I Lampoon Our "European" Vacation

One of the things that frustrates me about these past 13 months is that the family didn't get a fun, summer getaway because I was undergoing treatment.  I realize that I can't do anything about that and that getting treatment trumps other considerations, but it was still annoying.  We did, however, manage to squeeze in a five-day trip before school started.  Anyway, I won't write an entry for each day, just a synopsis of our trip to Virginia and "Europe." No, not the Europe in Europe, nor the Europe in Orlando, FL.  We went to Busch Gardens Europe in Williamsburg, VA, where roller coasters and other rides are set amidst European scenes, like fake castles and fake marketplaces.

The first thing that made it feel like going to Europe was the long trip down I-95 in rush-hour Friday traffic.  A movie and free alcohol would have made the experience more authentic, but at least we avoided the security line at Dulles.  We were joined, for part of our stay, by brother-of-270 and his family.  Their flight from Florida was shorter than our drive.

The five flags of Europe

So, unencumbered by passports or Schengen visas, we headed to Europe.  To quote Donald Rumsfeld, this is Old Europe.  The only representatives were the United Kingdom, Ireland, Germany, France, and Italy; no Baltic states, former SSRs or former Yugoslav Republics.  Fortunately for los amigos madrileños, Spain was not represented.  I write "fortunately," because that's four amigos and 45 million others who won't be pissed off at Anheuser Busch for trivializing their country. Here's a brief look at selected "countries" and other notable items.

• United Kingdom (Lite):  This UK was missing Wales and Northern Ireland, but who, other than me, is counting.  Hooligan Chase would be a good, soccer-themed, thrill ride here.  We didn't do much in the UK, except get on a ride that takes you away to France.
• France:  The big thrill ride here, The Griffon,  was out of order when I tried to get on.  It really was out of service, not a usual French strike.  By the time I returned, it was in service but the wait was 45 minutes.  So I skipped it.  Our main attraction here was the all-you-can-eat buffet that featured traditional French dishes such as southern-fried chicken, hot dogs, and macaroni and cheese.  None of that coq au vin or escargot.  France was adjacent to another area of the park, titled "New France."  If you're wondering what "New France" is, it's Canada, complete with a trading post for north woods tschotkes.  France my derriere!
• Italy:.  Unlike the real Italy, no-one in BG's version smoked or rode scooters.  Now that would be a good ride, Bumper Vespas.  We did ride Escape from Pompeii, a water ride in which your boat floats past collapsing columns and statues, propane volcanoes, and finally, down a flume where you are splashed.  I told my kids that it's just like Indiana Jones, the world's worst archeologist.  Every time he enters an ancient temple, it crumbles to dust.  Anyway, Italy was the site of the only roller coaster that I went on (alone), Apollo's Chariot.  This was one of the few rides that made some sense.  If you remember your Roman mythology (which they plagiarized from the Greeks), you know the story of Apollo's son who took his dad's chariot without permission and went careening across the skies.  The roller coaster was sort of like that, in 45 seconds and with more screaming.
  
• Germany:  Here we took a ride through Dark Kastle, a house occupied by 3-D werewolves, which scared the kids.  Then we ate at Festhaus, where dancers danced to traditional German polka and oom-pah Musik.  What authentic German fare did we eat?  Pizza.
• Consistent (?!) with the European theme was a Jack Hanna exhibit with North American grey wolves and North American bald eagles.  This must be the NATO part of Europe.
• Gastarbeiters.  Translated as guest workers, this is the German term for foreign labor.  Except that they stayed in Germany, fought for citizenship, and their children now play for the German national soccer team.  BG (and the rest of Williamsburg) is filled with young people, mainly from Eastern Europe, with summer work permits.  This makes some sense.  If you're going to risk your life on a roller coaster, it's good to know that the people at the controls are good in physics and engineering.
  
• Shopping:  Who are these people who travel to a fake Europe and then spend thousands of dollars for a German cuckoo clock?  If they have that kind of cash, why not travel to the real Germany?  Seriously, "Germany" contains a cuckoo clock store.  Sadly, there is no German beer store, because this is BUSCH Gardens.

Donald or Douglas takes passengers around the Island of Sodor

Dum Dum.  You give me gum gum

Once you leave Busch Gardens and are back in American Williamsburg, you may visit President's Park.  A collection of giant busts of the 42 American Presidents, prior to Barack Obama, in one small park.  Obama is currently represented by a life-sized bust in the visitor center.  I don't know if this is because the sculptors are working on the giant Obama bust or if this is Virginia being Virginia.  Anyway, this place is America's Easter Island.  Presidential first name trivia:

• 6 named James (Madison, Monroe, Polk, Buchanan, Garfield, Carter).
• 5 named John (Adams, Q Adams, Tyler, Coolidge, Kennedy)
• 4 named William (H Harrison, McKinley, Taft, Clinton)
• 3 named George (Washington, HW Bush, W Bush)
• 2 named Andrew (Jackson, Johnson), Franklin (Pierce, Roosevelt), and Thomas (Jefferson, W Wilson)

Williamsburg Arsenal FC

Colonial Williamsburg:  OK, pretty much all of you know about this 18th century colonial village, one of several cradles of the American Revolution - at least the only one that charges you $36 to get in.  Williamsburg craftsmen use techniques of the period to make bricks, silver items, wool yarn, and ummm... funny hats.  Williamsburg actors portray revolutionary war-era events such as a protest of the new taxes in the Stamp Act, which is ironic because the food and beverage tax in Williamsburg is 10 FREAKIN' PERCENT!  With all that history around them, what did the boys enjoy most?  Guns from the gift shop.  My little Americans.

Water Country USA:  The last day of the trip turned out to be the most exciting.  The boys, who eschewed anything that looked like or was next to a roller coaster in BG, eagerly went down water slides.

After that, it was back on I-95 for the quick return trip home with the mandatory stop at Cracker Barrel.  Country fried steak, can't get that in any Europe.

FOLFOX Round 10: Absolutely nothing to report.

Just the usual fatigue, numbness, lack of taste, and loss of appetite.

And now for something completely different.

Have you noticed that "Next Blog" link on the top of the page.  According to Blogspot,

The new and improved Next Blog link will now take you to a blog with similar content, in a language that you understand.

OK.  So I start on this blog and click Next Blog.  Of twenty attempts, here's what I get:

GREEN MAGAZINE: green lifestyle news.  If you want to "Go Green," turn off your freakin' computer.
Wednesday whining. To confuse you, none of the recent posts were done on a Wednesday.
Le Carnet d'Eledraël I don't know what the hell this is.
Mattye Lee's Raw Progression A "raw vegan" finds spiritual enlightenment in her journey through uncooked herbivorism.
Blogger: Blog not found and Blogger: Permission denied. Apparently there is a Bermuda Triangle for blogs.. 
Kathy - mom of many: A Christian mom of 10 children.  She makes sure to point out that she is neither Catholic nor Mormon.  I wonder if Kathy's last name is Koresh.
Radical. Rational. Juiceing [sic] and Feasting. Experiment.  Another health nut who "regularly detoxes."  If you call her, don't expect her to answer. She's in the bathroom.
Blog 324.  This is like Blog365 with 41 vacation days.

I also hit two family blogs , a few "what's on my mind at the moment" blogs (most of these folks should stick to twitter), two cancer blogs, and some weight-loss blogs.

Notice anything wrong here? Correct.  The "similar content" claim is, to quote Click (or is it Clack?) boh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-gus Only two cancer blogs, no soccer blogs, and no traffic reports.  As far as "a language you understand, I don't understand anything about Eldrael's car net. What's that about? Does the paint flake of into his food?

So either Blogspot is lying about this feature or I'm really a whining, tree-hugging Christian vegan with a très français vacation schedule.

I shouldn't complain, but...

When I write "I shouldn't complain," it means that I'm going to complain, but I want you to think I'm a reasonable person who usually knows when to hold his tongue.  Anyway, the topics of my pique are in bold.

The side effects are increasingly annoying.  My sensitivity to cold objects now lasts the entirety of the two-week treatment cycle.  The effects modulate somewhat in the last seven days, but they do not subside completely.  Right now I'm typing this in a room that's probably at 70 degrees, but my fingers are tingling and I'm making more typos than usual.

Fatigue is also an issue.  It used to begin the day after my pump was disconnected., but it now starts earlier and lasts longer.  That's a bit of a problem when trying to run a Cub Scout den meeting, soccer practice, and the game.  Fortunately, those aren't all in one day and I can usually recruit other parents to help out.

My weight is beginning to drop - I lost a pound since my last weigh-in.  Even though I try to "eat as if it's a chore," the insensitive taste buds don't allow me to enjoy much.  I'll probably drop five to ten more pounds.  If you know me, you know that I can't afford to drop weight.

It would be nice if parents brought their kids to the soccer game on time.  I ask that they get there 15 minutes early to warm up and stretch, with the unreasonable hope that all 11 players will be there at game time.  At the last game, only six players were present for kickoff (the U8s play 6v6).  This completely screws up the line-up and substitutions that I plan. 

The referee lined the players up for an equipment check.  She did that last season too and is the only ref to do so.  One of the kids, despite everything I've told them and their parents, wore his shin guards over his socks.  At least I could blame the ref when I told tell dad that his son could not participate until he was properly in uniform.  This dad also yells "KICK IT!"  whenever the ball gets near his son.  I've asked the parents to refrain from coaching, because I don't want the kids to just boot the ball aimlessly, but that is also an unreasonable hope.

We lost the last match horribly. The mercy rule (add another player at -5 goal differential) was implemented in the middle of the first half.  Adding the player didn't help.  Part of the problem is that we took our team picture an hour before the game, and the boys ran around during the waiting time and may have tired themselves out.  So, rev up the "Fire Coach 270" bandwagon again.

I just put golvs on to tyoe.  Cqan you tell?>

Declining Numbers At An Even Rate

Bonus points for knowing the song reference without using the interweb.

Before I get to the numbers, let me get this off my chest (literally and figuratively). I HATE TAPE!  I mean the surgical/medical kind.  Apparently, though, nurses and phlebotomists get AIG-type bonuses tied to the number of rolls of tape they use per year.  At my last blood draw, the lab tech used three five-inch strips of tape on my forearm: one strip to hold the tiny wad of gauze in place and the other two to hold down the first.  In the hospital, the nurses taped down the i.v. line to withstand a category 5 hurricane. And when I'm on the chemo pump, the needle going into the port is secured to my chest with a rectangular 3M Tegaderm bandage (duct tape relabeled for medical use)  that is then held in place by, guess what, more freakin' tape.  It's no surprise that now, four weeks out of the hospital, I'm still finding sticky bits of tape adhesive on my skin.

Why am I complaining about this?  Because I have hair on my arms and chest (and you wonder why I need more percocet).  Now I'm not one of these metrosexual guys who shave their bodies, but when I start chemo again, I'll have to shave my chest to minimize the tape damage.

OK. Rant Over.

The aforementioned blood draw was at my most recent visit to the oncologist.  In addition to the usual blood counts, they tested my carcinoembryonic antigen (CEA) level.  CEA is a protein that is present in very low levels in healthy people (5 ng/ml or lower is considered normal).  In colorectal and other cancers, CEA levels are elevated.  So physicians use these numbers to gauge how well the treatment is working.  Here are my CEA scores since this thing started:

Pre-chemo/radiation (August 09) - 64
Post chemo-radiation (October 09) - 12.9
Pre-operative (December 09) - 2.5
Post-operative (February 10) - 1.2

So I've been back in the normal range since December.  This confirms the results from the CT and PET scans.  Did I mention how much tape the radiology techs used for the i.v. lines?