My Story

I just watched a really interesting video that Abe Drayton posted on his blog, a lecture by Tim Wise that was mostly about white supremacy.  Two of his points jumped out at me:

– We have a systemic problem.  It’s not that ordinary folks like you and me are bad people (although there’s some of that), but that the system itself has been designed in a way to allow the majority of folks to avoid even noticing all the inequities in society because they’ve had the advantage of never having it affect their own lives in any serious way (and as a cis, het, white, male boomer, I’m one of ’em).

– Later in the talk, maybe during the Q&A, he reminded us that debunking goofy ideas with facts isn’t particularly effective because the people with the strange ideas just double down.  He suggested that what’s more effective is something that connects with individuals, basically storytelling.

So let me begin with a story from when I was about seven years old; and now that I’m seventy-seven (or will be tomorrow), I still remember it.

We were living in Delray Beach, Florida which, in the early 1950s, was still racially segregated.  I remember us driving home one night after visiting some of my parents’ friends; and at one point, we passed a pedestrian about whom my dad remarked, “He’s going to be in trouble.”  I asked why, and it wasn’t because the guy was obviously inebriated, but because he was Black; and there was a law back then that Black folks had to be in “colored town” after dark.  Even at age seven, I recognized the asymmetry (to put it mildly), although I wouldn’t have had the vocabulary back then to express that.

Tying that in to the first point I mentioned, I guess I’ve long been aware of the evils of racism because I learned something about it at an early age (even though I was in no danger myself); but I didn’t become aware of other systemic inequities until much later.  Just two examples:  I didn’t recognize the unfairness of sexism, and didn’t become a feminist, until I was in my thirties; and I had no clue about LGBTQIA+ issues until about a decade ago; in both cases because I simply had no need to notice.

There are some signs these days that maybe we’re starting to notice, and that gives me a little hope.  At least I hope I never stop learning.

Possible Movement on the Cancer Front

I got a second PET scan* on the 19th; and the results were basically the same as the one I’d had four months ago:  the cancerous lump hadn’t gotten any bigger, and there’s still no evidence of any spread to my lymph nodes.  It’s possible that I might have to get another biopsy of the lymph nodes just to make sure; but the last I heard, the biopsy guy didn’t think it would be necessary.  We’ll see how that goes.

Assuming that I don’t have to worry about the lymph nodes, which the oncologist I saw today said he thought was highly likely, I’ve decided on radiation and chemotherapy.

I’m told that the radiation will be something like a dental x-ray, except that it’ll take about fifteen minutes during which time I’ll be immobilized inside something that they’ll mold around my body.  IIRC, there will be three treatments on separate days, and I’ll be able to drive myself home after each one.

The chemo will be more complicated:  three treatments on consecutive days repeated three more times at 21-day intervals.  This would bump into my trip to Hawaiʻi in November by a day or two; but the oncologist said that he could work around that.  He also said that, although some folks do get nausious from the drugs that he’ll use for the chemo, very few do; and I should be able to drive myself home after those as well.  That’s important because the flip side of there being no one who depends on me for anything is that there’s nobody whom I can reasonably ask to drive me to and from the hospital and then take care of me after I get home.  (This will be an issue if I need another biopsy since that requires general anesthesia; and so I’d need to be admitted to the hospital overnight for observation.  I wouldn’t mind that except for the boredom, but it seems wasteful to me…like I was hoarding a hospital bed for what would likely be no good reason.)

If there are no lymph node issues, and if the radiation and chemo work as expected, both the radiologist and the oncologist assure me that I should retain sufficient independence and cognitive abilities to continue serving on the ISO C++ committee through next year at least.  That’s good news because next summer’s meeting in Stockholm has fallen through, and I’ve made an offer to host the committee next June or July.

I feel a whole lot better now that I have a plan.

*This was basically like a CAT scan except that they shot me up with radioactive sugar; and the cancer cells said, “OOO, FOOD!”  Unlike a CAT scan, I had to observe a low-carb diet the day before and not eat or drink anything except water after midnight the day of the test; and it took about 45 minutes of my just lying around to get the sugar distributed around my body.

New Subject

Katydid commented on my ethics post:

OT: Amtrak in upstate NY halted as tracks were washed out by “once-in-a-thousand-years” flood.

Yes, I’ve been reading about that on an e-mail list, AllAboardRailDiscussion@groups.io.  That’s Metro North’s Hudson Line to Croton-Harmon and Poughkeepsie, so it’s a big problem for commuters; but it also shut down Amtrak’s Empire Service and the Lake Shore Limited which use that track.

I’m not sure exactly where the flooding happened, but I’ve ridden on that line numerous times on the Lake Shore, and there are places where the track runs right along the eastern bank of the Hudson.

Update:  some photos

There’s also flooding on CSX’s River Line on the western bank.

Elementary Ethics

I watched the Podish-Sortacast today because I thought it would be interesting to hear other FtBloggers talk about how they became atheists.  The reason I bring that up is that, during the wrapup, PZ remarked that arguments for and against the supernatural really aren’t that interesting because they tend to be the same old arguments that have been made for centuries.  Far more important these days are various social issues like humanism, ethics and social justice, which I agree with; so I thought I’d jump in with my own admittedly abecedarian understanding of ethics.  Maybe commenters can help me get my thoughts more orderly.

Almost certainly because of the way that I was raised, there are a couple of points that I treat as if they were axiomatic:

  1.  People are more important than things.

  2.  It’s not all about me, and not all about my tribe.

Point 2 makes it easy for me to reject egoism and relativism as ethical principles; but between utilitarianism and a more Kantian approach, I confess to being very confused; and indeed I’m skeptical about both of them.  “The greatest good for the greatest number” doesn’t really have any meaning absent a calculus for it; and it has always seemed to me to be a pretty good general principle that the consequences of my behavior matter.

But point 1 means that I have an obligation to get through the day without being a jerk…without causing harm to others, and particularly without exhibiting the pridefullness and hatefullness that we see in the loudest of the far right; and so, as a practical matter, I need to pick one.  I tend to be more Kantian about big issues (things like hatred of folks not like me are just wrong); but I’m more utilitarian about smaller matters that are well understood.  (Should I get my flu shot?  Yeah, sure:  herd immunity.  That’s not the only reason, but it’s a sufficient reason.)

Have I gotten off on the right foot at least?  I hope so because, at age 76, I’m pretty set in my ways. 😎

More Cancer Thoughts

Introduction

I have a telephone appointment with a cancer surgeon on Tuesday, and I’ll probably be referred to an oncologist who can discuss various treatment options; and since I’m more comfortable with the written word than with the spoken word, principally because I can fix my mistakes before others know that I’ve made them 😎 , I want to write a short post to get my thoughts together in (I hope) some cogent way, and maybe to help the doctors be prepared with objections if they think I’m on the wrong track.

It’s possible that they’ll want me to communicate on-line using something called “MyChart”, but the messages that I can send are kind of like what I imagine tweets to be except for allowing more characters, so I’ve split this into four sections that will easily fit into four MyChart messages.  In any event, I’ll try to keep it short.

My goals

First of all, since I don’t believe in the supernatural, I’m not afraid of being dead:  it seems highly unlikely to me that there will be any me to be dead.

But I’m guessing that the process of dying won’t be any fun; so I think I’d like that to happen in some controlled way rather than, say, being surprised by a heart attack.  At present, I think I’d want to let the cancer take its normal course, eventually in some kind of hospice care where they keep me as comfortable as is legal in Missouri (most definitely a red state).

Also, since I’m a fairly extreme introvert, I don’t have anyone that I’d be selfishly leaving behind.

My questions

What I’m hoping for are guesses, for various treatment options, about how much time I have left 1) to be sufficiently independent that I can travel to meetings of an ISO standards committee that I serve on and 2) to retain sufficient cognitive abilities (e.g., not all hopped up on pain killers) that I can still use my computer.

– I’ve already made all the reservations for the trip to Hawaiʻi in November.

– I’ll probably just Zoom in to the Tokyo meeting in March in any event because I wouldn’t want to sit in an airplane long enough to get there.

– I’d like to make one or both of the Summer and Fall meetings in 2024 if I’m still around then.

Bottom line

I understand that surgery is the best option to let me die of something other than cancer; but like I said, that’s not my goal.

Can I make any reasonable guesses about how much longer I’d have a reasonable quality of life given other treatment options (including doing nothing at all)?  I’m not nearly as good at math as I’d like to be, but I understand some elementary statistics.  If I can get median, mean and standard deviation, I’d know what to do with that.  Alternatively, if I can get min and max along with probabilities that those numbers are close, I could deal with that as well.

With that information, I think I could make a rational decision about what I’d want to do and to make plans for it.

Update 2023-07-12:  as expected, the surgeon couldn’t really talk about anything except surgery; but he did refer me to a radiation guy with whom I have an appointment in a couple of days.

Since writing this post originally, I’ve made an offer to host a meeting of the C++ standards committee next summer (the plan for Stockholm has fallen through); so there’s now some urgency to decide on a course of treatment, possibly including doing nothing at all, that will give me a good likelihood of still being active enough for a year or so to do all the necessary administrivia.  We’ll see…

Human Resources

In a comment to one of PZ’s posts, jeanmeslier wrote:

Imagine being reduced to a resource …

Don’t get me started on the “Human Resources” paradigm of business management.

OK, you got me started.

<rant>
The Human Resources paradigm is fundamentally flawed because it denies the moral distinction between people and things.

Oh, it makes operational distinctions:  it recognizes that people are more complicated than “other things”; and it recognizes that people are more “costly” than “other things”; but it asserts positively that managers ought to treat their employees decently for the same set of reasons that, say, carpenters sharpen their saws.

It’s that “for the same set of reasons” bit that’s the error; and it’s an error that can’t be fixed.  You can’t wash it off and peel the skin; it’s rotten to the core.  All you can do is throw it away and hope that the next one isn’t so disgusting.
</rant>

OK, having gotten that off my chest, I’ll back off slightly and allow as how the Human Resources paradigm does have one bit of utility:  it presents an argument that the Mr. and Ms. WIIFMs* of the world can comprehend.

*WIIFM — pronounced WIFum — “What’s in it for me?” — actually taught as a Good Thing in pseudoscientific pop psychology classes at the American Management Association.

About the Lung Cancer

I had an appointment with a thoracic surgeon yesterday and now have a pretty good idea of what the surgery would be like if I were to opt for that.  I still don’t have any understanding of what radiation treatment would be like, nor a likely prognosis if I were to do nothing at all.  I might hear more about that tomorrow or Friday.

At present, I’m thinking that I’d want to just be put in some kind of hospice care where I’d be kept as comfortable as is legally possible in a red state until I faded away.  I’m not afraid of “being dead” since I don’t think that there will be any me to be dead.  It’s probably a pretty good guess that I won’t like the process of dying; but that’s going to happen in any event; and it might be easier if it happens in a controlled way rather than unexpectedly (like a heart attack or something).  Also, since there’s nobody who depends on me for anything, it’s not like I’d be selfishly leaving anyone behind.

We’ll see how it goes…

I Did a Stupid Thing

I expect to be taking a trip to Hawaiʻi in November [current itinerary]; and with a remarkable (and I hope uncharacteristic) lack of impulse control, I inquired about chartering a plane for the round trip.*

It turns out that I’d need at least a mid-sized jet in order to carry enough fuel to get from the west coast of the Americas half way across the Pacific; and I was given an estimate that, at the high end, is almost one third of my net worth.

The guy I spoke to said that he’d get back to me with a more detailed price, but I haven’t heard from him yet as I write this.  I hope that he figured out that I’m not in the group from which he gets his regular customers, and that he doesn’t have to waste any more time on the likes of me. 😎

*Since I might not be around much longer than that for medical reasons, and since there’s nobody else who depends on this extreme introvert for anything, I briefly thought that it would be OK to significantly spend down my savings on a whim.  On further reflection, I finally got it through my thick skull that a nice donation to a charity (which my current will provides) would actually do some good, and spewing all that carbon into the atmosphere for one fool’s convenience would actually do some bad.  I’ll stick with conventional first-class travel, which is flamboyant enough, and which would happen whether or not I were along for the ride.

ChatGPT Fun

On an Amtrak-related e-mail list that I frequent (AllAboardRailDiscussion@groups.io if you care), one of the regulars had a bit of fun with ChatGPT.  I found it amusing; and since ChatGPT has come up on FtB before, I thought I’d repost it here with the author’s permission.

Alan Klein:

Explain how to change a piston in the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine, using the language of the Old Testament

ChatGPT:

In the days of old, when the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine was in need of repair, behold, the changing of a piston required a process as intricate as the weaving of fine linen.  Let me recount to you the steps, as if told in the language of the Old Testament.

1.  Verily, gather the necessary tools and prepare the sacred space.  Anoint your hands with oil, and set the engine in a state of rest upon a foundation of solid ground.

2.  Unfasten the bolts that bind the cylinder head and separate it from the engine block.  Lo, the power of your arm shall overcome the grip of the fasteners, as Samson overcame the Philistines.

3.  Once the cylinder head is removed, thou shalt find the piston nestled within the chamber, encased in rings of steel.  Take heed, for the rings must be removed, as a warrior discards his armor before battle.

4.  Carefully, with the precision of a master craftsman, remove the wrist pin that connects the piston to the connecting rod.  As Moses parted the Red Sea, thou shalt separate the piston from its mighty connection.

5.  Now, with the old piston removed, place the new piston upon the altar of the engine block.  Align the rings upon the piston, ensuring they are in their proper order and seated with care.

6.  Inscribe the wrist pin into its ordained position, uniting the piston with the connecting rod.  Let not the pin falter, for it is the bond that shall withstand the fires of combustion.

7.  Once the piston is in place, return the cylinder head to its rightful position.  Tighten the bolts with the strength of Samson, ensuring a firm and secure union between head and block.

8.  Finally, breathe life into the engine once more.  Ignite the fire within, and may the pistons move with the grace of David‘s harp, producing the melodious symphony of power and efficiency.

Thus, with the guidance of ancient wisdom and a touch of modern knowledge, thou shalt have changed a piston in the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine.  May your endeavors be fruitful, and may the spirit of the Old Testament guide your mechanical pursuits.

Varna Trip Report, days twelve and thirteen

[day −1]
[day 0]
[day 1]
[day 2]
[day 3]
[day 4]
[day 5]
[days 6 & 7]
[days 8 & 9]
[day 10]
[day 11]

2023-06-19 05:30−4:

There wouldn’t be enough time for breakfast in the hotel restaurant before I would want to check out, but there was a kind of coffee shop that opened at 05:30 where I got a Danish pastry to hold me over for a while.

06:00:

I checked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to South Station.

I had originally booked the accessible bedroom in the Lake Shore Limited’s Boston section; but because of track work, my reservation had been changed to a bus from Boston to Albany-Rensselaer where I would board 449.  Since I would rather ride a train than a bus, I changed my reservation several weeks ago to Northeast Corridor train 171 to New York and then the Ethan Allan Express train 291 to Rensselaer.

<aside>
The station is actually in Rensselaer, NY, just across the river from Albany.
</aside>

I arrived at South Station fairly early intending to head to the Metropolitan Lounge to let somebody know that I wouldn’t be on the bus to Rensselaer.  I was worried that my reservation from Rensselaer would be cancelled when I was a no-show for the bus.

The lounge hadn’t opened yet because nobody had showed up, so I went to the ticket counter to explain my concern, but the guy I talked to had no clue what I was talking about.  The Met. Lounge opened up a few minutes after that, so I went up there and the lounge attendant assured me that everything was OK with my reservation and that I wouldn’t be expected on the bus.  Since I had a same-day sleeper ticket on 449 out of Rensselaer, I was allowed to wait in the Met. Lounge, have a cup of coffee, and get caught up on the Internet.  I was hoping for another sweet roll or something, but Boston’s Met. Lounge doesn’t put out breakfast-style munchies, just chips and such.  That’s not up to the standards that I remember from earlier trips.

08:00:

About fifteen minutes before 171’s scheduled departure, I headed down to the train.  The biz.-class car was the first one I came to, so that would be the last car on the train.  The quiet car was right in front of that, then a bunch of coaches, and the café car all the way in front.  I wasn’t about to walk the whole train just to get to the café, so no breakfast for me except for the Danish I’d had back at the hotel.

08:15:

We departed right on time.  I had a seat on the fireman’s side, so I got to look at all the boats along the shore (when Amtrak’s Shore Line is actually running along the shore, mostly just in eastern Connecticut).

12:25:

The trip to New York City was uneventful, and we arrived a couple of minutes early.

I had the redcap take me to the baggage checking place where I checked one bag on train 49 all the way to St. Louis.  The baggage guy didn’t want to do that because Amtrak’s reservation system doesn’t recognize 49 as a connection to 449 even though it’s the same damn train departing Rensselaer.  The redcap was helpful to me in convincing the baggage guy that it would be OK.

Once I was rid of my larger bag, I had only my walker and the smaller bag that I’d have with me on the next train, and so I thanked and tipped the redcap.

I went to the Met. Lounge hoping that the attendant would be able to give me a coach seat on 49 which would give me more time in New York to compose this post, but she was a newbie and couldn’t be convinced that 49 and 449 were the same train, so I’m still on 291 from New York to Rensselaer.

The Met. Lounge in New York is fancier than the one in Boston, but none of the food looked appetizing.  I guess I’ll have a late lunch from the café on 291.

ca. 14:00:

Train 291 started boarding and I didn’t need redcap assistance to get me to the train, but I asked at the redcap counter for directions to the elevator down to the track 5 platform.  I’m glad I did because I never would have found it without knowing where to go from the start.  I boarded 291 with only about five minutes to spare.

291 has a café car like the ones I’m used to on the Chicago-St. Louis-Kansas City corridor trains:  a café counter in the middle, tables at the end of the car nearest the coaches, and very comfortable 2-1 biz.-class seating on the other side.  All the 1-up seats were taken by the time I boarded, but I wound up with two seats to myself for the whole trip to Rensselaer.

14:20:

We departed New York on-time.  The café didn’t open until 15:20, so there was no time for anything real to eat.  I just had a coke and a bag of pretzels.

16:45:

After another uneventful ride, we arrived in Albany-Rensselaer about four minutes early.  I made a beeline to the ticket counter where I was assured that I still had my accessible bedroom on 449 even though I wasn’t on the bus from Boston.

There’s a little coffee shop in the Rensselaer station where I had some mac and cheese and a hotdog…not much of a meal, but it was the best that they could do for me.

I’ll have about a two-hour wait for 449.

ca. 18:30:

Boarding 449 started.

It turned out that the 449 equipment had deadheaded from Sunnyside Yard in Queens today, so I probably could even have gotten in my room in New York; but there was no way I could have explained that to any of the ticket agents there.  (I find it a bit disconcerting that J. Random Passenger knows more about Amtrak operations than Amtrak employees do.  Oh, well…)

The 449 sleeper is all the way in the front of the train, so I had a bit of a hike.  As expected, I’m in a Viewliner I accessible bedroom; so I still have no idea what the Viewliner II arrangement is.

I elected not to have dinner from the “flexible dining menu”.  The café car is the next car back, but I didn’t really want anything from that either.

We were basically on-time all the way to Syracuse where I went to bed a little bit hungry, which is probably good for me once in a while.

2023-06-20, ca. 05:00:

I woke up for the stop in Cleveland where we were running about one hour late.

The TA hadn’t made any coffee and didn’t have any extra bottles of water out:  we were supposed to go to the café which was the next car back, so that was OK.  I also got a rather large blueberry muffin for breakfast which was just as good as anything that the TA would have brought me from the “dining car”.

<aside>
Dolly:  “The Americans have something they call muffins, but they’re just tea cakes with raisins!”
Miss Marple:  “The Americans certainly have a lot to answer for.”
— Agatha Christie, The Body in the Library
</aside>

10:42−5:

We stayed about one hour late for the rest of the trip; and thanks to schedule padding, we arrived in Chicago about half an hour late.  I had thought that they might have shortened the dwell time in Toledo, but that didn’t happen.  In any event, I had plenty of time to make the connection to the last train of my trip.

ca. 11:30:

I opted for a slice of pizza from Sbarro’s for lunch.

13:30:

The Texas Eagle started boarding, and we departed right on time.  We didn’t get delayed on the Canadian National tracks between Chicago and Joliet this time, and stayed basically on-time all the way to St. Louis.

For some reason, the café car didn’t open until 15:00, already twenty minutes passed Joliet.

I had popped for a roomette in the sleeper on train 21, so I’d be comfortable on my last leg of the trip, and I’d at least get one of the reheated meals in the “diner” for supper.  When the LSA showed up making dinner reservations, he apparently was a newbie as well, and my TA, who I guess was also qualified as an SA, had to help him with filling out the food ticket.  I opted for the baked ziti and meatballs.

<aside>
TA – train attendant, the crew who assist passengers in the sleepers and coaches.
SA – service attendant, the food service crew.
LSA – lead service attendant.
</aside>

After a while, the LSA showed up again to say that my dinner selection wouldn’t be available.  Since we had just started the trip, it’s not like they ran out; and I have no idea what their excuse was.  I decided on the short ribs and mashed potatoes which turned out to be not too bad.

18:54:

Nothing much out of the ordinary happened on this leg either; and thanks to schedule padding, after a brief stop to align a switch which hadn’t been set correctly to get us on the right track, we arrived in St. Louis about twenty minutes early.

It took about half an hour for the checked baggage to make it to the baggage claim area in the station, but I finally got my bag (the baggage guy in New York had done the right thing after all) and drove home on city streets rather than blast down I-55.

About all I could do when I got home was some minimal unpacking.  I listened to the Cardinals’ game on the radio (they lost again) and crawled into bed, which is why writing this report and posting it had to wait until the next morning.

I still owe the blog a report about how the meetings went in Varna.  2023-07-12:  I got sidetracked by the cancer business and don’t really remember much about the meeting.  I’ll try to do better after the next trip in November.