Halloween

Halloween is a wonderful time for those of us who are theatrical. Killian's best bud Kira came up to participate in the shaving cream rave that the Woodstock Chamber of Commerce actually sanctions. They shut down the streets and hundreds of teenagers run amok with cans of cheap shaving cream in hand to the backbeat of loud techno music (boo scary!) They all dress up in carefully thought-out costumes, which is ironic as they become unrecognizably slathered in shaving cream in two seconds. Killian was Chuck Norris; Cally, a "big, fat, chubby panda." Phil went as a Corporate Clown (he really wore his best suit too).

Prior to the Woodstock street rave, Phil and Cally performed in another Halloween tradition here: the Halloween Journey. Cara Cruikshank, local impresario of expressive, earthy, and slightly alien kids puts together this extraordinary show each year. Phil played Rip Van Winkle and Cally a Gnome. Killian and I did the journey together and I wept the entire time. It was so magical, holding his hand and walking the wetland woods. The first encounter was a lichen-covered woman who appeared to have grown into her chair. She directed us to a path, lit by a trail of tiny lights, jack-o-lanterns -- some with faces, some without -- and paper bag luminaries. The path of low light looked eternal, upward winding as it stepped up into the star-pierced sky from the grounded smell of moist earth and bonfire nearby. We happened on some small people (gnomes, sprites and such), a maple nymph, an excited fairy, old Rip Van Winkle himself (whose snoring, I can attest, was extremely realistic), Johnny Appleseed (who showed us the stars in apples), the esteemed John Burroughs (who was slightly perplexing to the under 4 years of age set), a lecturing but well-dressed owl, a woman who kept fireflies as a girl but reformed from sadness of loss, a wood piper, a singer with what sounded a little like a hurdy-gurdy....all minding the senses of our connectedness to nature. Killian asked why on earth I was crying. KT answered for me, "because it's just so damn beautiful out here." Killian said only women cry from joy. I think all this Chuck Norris stuff is getting to him.

We're spending a lot of time in the hospital. So much so, that we routinely get that nod of recognition you might give that nameless someone you pass on the way into our large anonymous office building each morning. That I-know-your-face-but-not-you-but-I'm-polite-as-I've-had-my-coffee nod. In fact, we get that nod in 2 hospitals now -- Columbia Presbyterian in NYC and Benedictine in Kingston, NY (our preferred emergency provider). A surgery for a tumor in Killian's mouth is being considered. Not for cure, but, "palliation." Killian feels good about starting a few alternative therapies through Raymond Chang in New York City. One, a Dendritic Cell vaccine, will require he take a trip to Duderstadt, Germany. Dr. Ralph Moss (a concisely articulate source on alternative therapies) recently visited this clinic and says it's a nice place. Nobody knows if this might kill some of Killian's cancer cells, but Killian has a really positive sense about this course of action (and therefore so do we). Raymond Chang is prescribing this vaccine in conjunction with a couple of off-label inhibitors, copper chelation, and a host of other supplements. Killian like the idea that Chang wants to throw a bunch of stuff at his cancer, but that it's a bunch of stuff that won't make him feel too awful. Killian does not want to go back to the National Institutes of Health for clinical trials. Killian does not want to do any more cytotoxic chemo. Killian wants to live it up and record lots of music.