Month: August 2022

Spring is such a wonderful time of year. The weather changes from the cold long winter to the warming of our local climate in the Philadelphia/Delaware Valley area. April showers and the greenery of the landscape brighten our days. A beautiful thing it is. Spring also meant that Joey would be returning home from his hockey home. This year Bradford, Ontario. He usually can’t wait for his journey back from the Canadian great white North. It’s crazy cold up there. For Nick, his seasons in sunny California haven’t changed a bit. “Paradise”, he says. The end of March or beginning of April for me means, for my treatment current protocol, that I will head to Hanahmen Hospital for my annual bloodwork. Only once a year for the past seven years. No Dr. Dave anymore though. This visit will be a little sad without his contagious chutzpah. Dr. Mike Styler had taken over for Dave and apparently was overwhelmed. The staff at I Brodsky and Associates knew that the end was near. The administration was cutting back on everything, including Doctors, Nurses and support staff. My appointment dragged on as I waited to be seen after the obligatory bloodwork. Dr. Mike apologized for the delay and we chatted while waiting for the preliminary results to come through.

One of the nurses popped her head into the exam room and handed the CBC report to Dr. Mike. I wasn’t too worried about the results. It had been eight years since my last relapse and that was artificially created by my decision to go off of my drug Gleevec. That was a trial initiated by Dr. Druker, the creator of Gleevec to see if I could sustain a permanent remission. I explained this scenario in a past blog. It didn’t work. Back on the drugs. Fast forward, Dr. Mike looked a little pale. He stared at the paperwork with no reply. I stared at him. I knew that this was not good. A been there, done that moment. My WBC, White cell blood count was 18,000. I was not sick. I hadn’t been sick. Why was my count rising? WTF!! DR. Styler was baffled. I was led back out to the lab to draw more blood, repeat the WBC. I would wait for the results only to be disappointed again. The PCR genetic test would take about ten days to complete and tell us more information and confirmation about the possible return of my CML. No doubt though. My Leukemia was back. Dr Mike told me to hang in there until the results were back from the PCR test. He would then contact me immediately.

The Rock was back. That damn rock! Hanging over my head. Ready to drop again. What’s next Leukemia? I fuc#@ng hate you! What do I say to my family? How do I tell them…Again! It’s baacckk! For now, I tell no one. No need to cause a ruckus. I’ll wait to get the final test result confirming my new relapse. Then, I’ll tell Lor. Just Lor. And we’ll be heartbroken…all over again.

Next Up: Course of Action

On a terribly sad note, yesterday, 8/22/22, another lovely soul passed due to the disastrous effects of cancer. Specifically, Pancreatic Cancer. Fran Baker fought valiantly as she withered away over a relatively short period of time. A pretty, petite and quiet person, Fran was married to a great customer and friend of ours, Paul Baker. Paul adored Fran. He lavished her with beautiful gifts of Antique and estate style jewelry. The older, the better. He would always call the store to see if we had received any new relics for him to look at for Fran. And always, we jousted over the price. It was always enjoyable. Paul was devastated by Frans diagnosis. He was with her side by side throughout every treatment, every, appointment, every moment, with every ounce of hope he had in him. Until the moment the cancer took her life, he stood by her, hoping for a miracle. The miracle was their story though. Meeting in their midlife, marrying, loving and enjoying each other every day. Never an argument, never a doubt. Theirs was a fairytale moment in time. Rest in peace Fran. It was a pleasure to know you.

The new year came and went as 2018 would hopefully usher in a better year than last. I was struggling mightily with the consequences of my brain hemorrhage. This was no joke. Doctor Gooch was right. I needed a good three months of work and stress free existence. We all know that that didn’t happen and I’m paying for it now. No time to complain though, life goes on. A great celebration was coming up. Sixteen years prior, I was setting goals. Way back in my blog, I wrote that I would be blessed to be able to see Nick graduate from kindergarten. That was a major milestone in my battle with CML that I would reach after so much fight and resilience. It was an incredibly emotional time for me and accomplished right before my first major relapse. Now, I was going to see my boy graduate from college. Who would have thought! Lori and I were so proud. After five years of hard work and perseverance, Nick would be graduating from Temple University Fox School of Business with degrees in Real Estate and Risk Management. The ceremony was fabulous! Held at the Liacouras Center on Temple’s main campus, we had a whole contingency of family attend. Afterwards, we had a great luncheon in town, a glorious day. The happiness we felt for Nick went hand in hand with the sadness we had in our hearts because he would be leaving in a few days for his new career in Los Angeles. So far away, we already had plans to visit in the summer. Lor cried at the airport when we dropped him off for his flight. My tears waited until he went into the terminal. Nick was a smart, handsome, confident and determined young man. “He’ll be fine”, I said to Lori in the car. “He’ll be fine”.

We cruised through Valentines Day at the store a week later and prepared for the winter blues. Usually, after that holiday, we waited for the tax refund money to start flowing. Engagement ring sales would shoot up as that extra influx of funds helped our customers out who were looking to pop the question. We were happy to oblige. I needed a gift too. The end of February was my wedding anniversary. Married on the 29th of February, leap day, I always joked that since the date was not on the calendar but every fourth year, I had two or three days to come up with a gift. The 28th of February, the 29th of February or the 1st of March! All kidding aside, this year was 26 years. An important number in our family. Lori’s birthday was on the 26th, Nick’s was too. Joey wore the number 26 as his jersey number from when he started playing Junior hockey as a tribute to his Mom and Nick. Kicked me to the curb eh!

Our story began when my brother Glenn had a vacation he had planned, stymied by a work obligation thrown at him at the last minute. A week in Puerto Rico was mine if I wanted it and could quickly arrange transportation. Hell yeah! I asked my friend Eric Cutler if he wanted to go and off we went. A week at the El San Juan hotel. A nice but hot week in July of 1990. We arrived on a Friday morning, relaxed for the afternoon and headed out to dinner at the hotel restaurant and Casino. During dinner, we noticed a trio of pretty young ladies having dinner in the restaurant at the same time. We made our way over to their table and started up a conversation after we had finished our meal. Lori Ann, Valarie and RoseAnn were their names and they were definitely not from Philadelphia. Their distinct New York accents were both loud and prominent in our conversation as we tried to talk over the surrounding noise and local band playing in the venue. I was mostly speaking with Lori and having a nice time connecting with her. The night flew by and the girls excused themselves, going back to their hotel a few blocks away around 1 AM. Eric had left about an hour earlier. I was wide awake and feeling great. I wandered over to the casino and tried my luck at the Roulette table. Having never played before, I started out watching other players and their strategies. At 4 am, the casino closed down and I cashed out with $2800 dollars in chips pouring out of my pants pockets. Holy Sh@*%^t! What a night!

The next day, Eric and I spent time on the beach and decided to head over to the Sands Hotel and Casino for dinner. The girls had mentioned that they were staying there until Sunday and we figured that maybe we would run into them again. That we did and they said that they had made reservations at our hotel and would be heading that way soon. With time to kill, I convinced Eric to join me in the casino before going back to the El San Juan. I was on a roll. Two hours later and $500 dollars up, I figured that we better go back and try to meet up with the New Yorkers. Our cab pulled up in front of the hotel literally as they were walking out. One more minute later and we would have missed them. Talk about fate. RoseAnn and Valarie excused themselves whlie Lori agreed to join me and hang out in the club for a little while longer. A little while longer lasted until 2 AM. The conversation was just amazing and the connection even better. I walked her out of the hotel and we strolled along the beach towards the Sands while the light of the moon and stars lit our way. We stopped and sat on a large boulder that presented an opportunity for me to write my cell phone number down for her and then get her info as well. All of a sudden, a loud burst of thunder and big bolt of lightning ruined the moment. We walked quickly along the fence that separated the beach from the hotel parking lots, trying to beat the impending onslaught of a tropical thunderstorm. We reached the gate for the Sands only to find it locked. The public access was about another block away. We ran to the open gate as the skies opened up. I pulled this beautiful young lady under a huge Palm tree to escape the monsoon descending upon us and made my move. Lip to lip, it was about as romantic as you could get! A Harlequin novel written in real time. As the rain started to subside, another mad dash to the hotel entrance, an elevator ride to her floor and another kiss at her door. I waited a sec as she closed the door and listened as the conversation got loud on the other side. Undoubtedly, an excited exchange. I hoped it was promising.

28 years later, was it our 26th anniversary….?? There was no 29th of February on the calendar this year. Doesn’t matter, every year is leap year…For us.

Next Up: That Damn Rock

As we spend time preparing for our Thanksgiving festivities,the turkey, the sides, the massive assortment of pies and desserts that land on our tables across America… Our families rejoice in this feast and celebrate together the great things that keep us unified. To me, it is a one day holiday respite before the onslaught of the Holiday shopping season. From Black Friday to Christmas Eve, the holiday shopping season encompasses both holidays of Christmas and Hanukkah and the mad spree that fits in to those twenty seven or so days between Thanksgiving day and Christmas day. To the jewelry industry, it’s usually a make it or break it month. As I have written about before, December is the most important month of the business year.

The season ramps up at a fast and furious pace. The closer we get to December 24th, the business done and customer count becomes exponentially greater every day. It’s grueling, tiring and satisfying all at once. I usually love playing Santa Claus. Not this year. My exit meeting with Dr. Gooch at Jefferson was untenable. How was I supposed to take three months off of work? I know….my brain was severely traumatized. I know…the blood was still putting pressure in my skull. I know…the vibrations still occurring in my brain were no good. I know…the pain was unrelenting and distracting as well as the painkillers needed to help me. I know…that I had no other choice. Weather the storm. Work twenty seven days in a row. Suck it all up for the sake of your customers and your bottom line. There was no other way out. I had to do it. I am the business.

My first day back, Black Friday, was terrible.Lori had to drive me to work. I wasn’t allowed to get behind the wheel for a few weeks. Part of my recovery. Waiting on customers was brutal. My head was pounding, I couldn’t focus well and I was constantly speaking off key. Making stupid mistakes calculating pricing and discounts was a normal occurrence. My memory was minimal at best. Regular customers names eluded me. Luckily, everyone that came into the store really understood the situation and gave me a break. Nadine and Sheree just did their best to keep me propped up and representing. It was so hard. When the store was empty, I would crawl up in my office chair and close my eyes. I would remain like that as long as possible to rest my brain and get ready for the next wave. Needless to say, this was “The Christmas From Hell”.

As each day passed, I became weaker and weaker. I could barely keep my eyes open. The holiday grind would wear down the best of us. It was killing me. One day during the last week of the season, a young man, a regular customer, stopped in to let his wife pick out her Xmas gift. She was looking for a pair of diamond hoop earrings. I spoke to him while Nadine helped his wife choose her gift. He seemed down. Not his usual self. He explained to me that his father had just passed away. Two weeks before Christmas. How sad is that? He had a young son who wouldn’t get to know his grandfather. Just awful. “What happened”, I asked. His dad was only 62 years old. ” He collapsed at home with massive pain in his head. The ambulance came and took him to Nazareth hospital where he was diagnosed with a Subarrachnoid Hemorrhage. He was loaded into a helicopter and was on his way to Jefferson Neurological Hospital when he coded and passed in the air.” I listened intently to his story recounting the exact same reality that I had experienced only one month prior. For whatever reason, I was spared another mans fate and still alive and here to listen to this young man’s story. I was numb, lucky, blessed, all of the above. I didn’t recount my story to him. Survivors guilt overcame me once again.

As the season wore down and came to an end, I was a veritable vegetable. Completely worn out and down for the count. I would need weeks of down time after this ridiculous feat of stupidity. Nevertheless, I survived both the Brain injury and the Holiday season. It was time to heal now. Hopefully the damage to my brain didn’t get any worse. It may just take more time to get normal again. How long? Who knows. Could be years. My appointment at the Neurologist was around the corner. We shall see.

Next Up: 26 Years