tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83285815691002183052024-03-05T18:04:23.265-08:00The G-nut Spot(It's not what you think.)
This is the blog of Alex Tung. At the age of 28, I was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma in my prostate. I am still fighting the disease. Please leave comments and feel free to share this blog with others if you think it will be helpful to them.
Sadly, on March 24, 2010 Alex Tung passed away. Since then his blog has been updated by his friends and family who continue to keep his story alive.The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-22319745674796037822012-03-22T08:13:00.023-07:002012-03-24T00:58:43.241-07:00Two years later....It’s been two years since Alex’s passing and I still can’t hear “Somewhere over the rainbow” without thinking of Alex. It takes me back to the beautiful sunny day in Half Moon Bay where we gathered to celebrate his life, and grieve, together. I still miss my buddy... and though I'm still sad about the loss, whenever I think about him I always see him smiling back at me.<br /><br />To catch you up…<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE2C4WA6be9O2xspIdMCB3Oj2GmlnfKp0cC47R1atK_5PhpcaZgvh9gkPjF31EvLm9L_TmsSQQR5g80B9vsdedE3esmn8HqemiyEMGd1xwl-mGjfNNEEzIHkJPniCsSQziHQ3Zobfhw4/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 184px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE2C4WA6be9O2xspIdMCB3Oj2GmlnfKp0cC47R1atK_5PhpcaZgvh9gkPjF31EvLm9L_TmsSQQR5g80B9vsdedE3esmn8HqemiyEMGd1xwl-mGjfNNEEzIHkJPniCsSQziHQ3Zobfhw4/s200/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722872461073082642" border="0" /></a><br />It was the day after the previous post (URNbelievable) that we received the call that his remains were ready to be picked up. We still had not decided on an urn. A group of us headed over to the funeral home and picked up his remains which were contained in the heart-heaviest 9lb box I ever carried. Until we decided on the urn he was kept in a nice box next to the photobook that Serena had made for him as well as the bio blurb that is now on display in the lab room that was dedicated to him.<br /><br />All that we could decide on is that we really liked one of the artists. In the end, Maureen from funeria.com connected us with the artist Laua Bruzzese and we commissioned a piece to be made. The piece captures the memorial location perfectly. From the weathered remains of the tree that long ago lost its life but retained its character, to a wind-blown tree that's still hanging on... and the ocean bluff in between. The blue sky with fluffy clouds gave the piece an uplifting feeling.<br /><br /><table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr><td align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqUHgFoPdytiOIcHpqawCG0PFBnDvLmm4LxPDeJLpJRRV-nWyhbhV5Z0kvu-Wz453o84Uqeg5DKkkYtwZhFgP_fPpiNXFM15d9XO2mFokB5OGMSIdJa8YUQKfQu31lIBQopg69ARdk1s/s1600/Urn1.jpg"><img style="margin:0 5px 5px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqUHgFoPdytiOIcHpqawCG0PFBnDvLmm4LxPDeJLpJRRV-nWyhbhV5Z0kvu-Wz453o84Uqeg5DKkkYtwZhFgP_fPpiNXFM15d9XO2mFokB5OGMSIdJa8YUQKfQu31lIBQopg69ARdk1s/s200/Urn1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722877452621022242" border="0" /></a></td><td align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBGOAmIPn3bF3UoRgs_M0V4bzRiSmdtIluiZJYbEhEI15HvUBGyVBQhTICUmlA3TcRK0ABo2fzDNfQFlz2ar-YDmcnw6kEbi-zP9Q0wDth0vPeUckTJl9C2O8ZEwgV_8G10gTpsw29Yc/s1600/Urn3-between.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBGOAmIPn3bF3UoRgs_M0V4bzRiSmdtIluiZJYbEhEI15HvUBGyVBQhTICUmlA3TcRK0ABo2fzDNfQFlz2ar-YDmcnw6kEbi-zP9Q0wDth0vPeUckTJl9C2O8ZEwgV_8G10gTpsw29Yc/s200/Urn3-between.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722877608945944866" border="0" /></a></td><td align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVwRpBC4RY_xVDdmAcuM-ZVAo3HA-kmfxxx_jZxOVqiJ29gPm-rSddUMqlM6Ds2g4U2Uoz8Um2_czJMtvr_4255OmB_EQ7z2C2bc2Xff9hR6g3XxSZMkDoJ5sLua1deoDzaEOJxpVbHM/s1600/Urn2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 155px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVwRpBC4RY_xVDdmAcuM-ZVAo3HA-kmfxxx_jZxOVqiJ29gPm-rSddUMqlM6Ds2g4U2Uoz8Um2_czJMtvr_4255OmB_EQ7z2C2bc2Xff9hR6g3XxSZMkDoJ5sLua1deoDzaEOJxpVbHM/s200/Urn2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722879479088135026" border="0" /></a></td> </tr></tbody></table><br />To celebrate the one year anniversary itself we made a pilgrimage back out to the memorial site and again reflected on how amazingly fortunate we were to have such beautiful weather for his service.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsqd9v0Y4tIPhM7obvzY_9oLV2nYJ3gSLl1O3jeZnCMil7EArzfc4AZu6NivPABj7JbWxF-hLoDEJIxAyQz9hycys1CJPgBGZ7JwuiC7KNlFoVVR4UpxGGmepqkE6h4_Z7ucUfxOPkBQ/s1600/walkingout.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsqd9v0Y4tIPhM7obvzY_9oLV2nYJ3gSLl1O3jeZnCMil7EArzfc4AZu6NivPABj7JbWxF-hLoDEJIxAyQz9hycys1CJPgBGZ7JwuiC7KNlFoVVR4UpxGGmepqkE6h4_Z7ucUfxOPkBQ/s320/walkingout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722880451665711506" border="0" /></a><br />Each of us took time to remember... to reflect... to mourn... in small groups or alone.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaeosWlR2PmHqhiU-vi7e93oLrouq2OuFvJiI8gGPEHjWz0uJL-MSd-b5jGapXOrH-oFGGFXVFGv1wIbkE5EN6buwNXO-XFQbcV2HrufFbeKYHQBN41B9hg13TiXnuAaElkgePuGEyfM/s1600/looking.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaeosWlR2PmHqhiU-vi7e93oLrouq2OuFvJiI8gGPEHjWz0uJL-MSd-b5jGapXOrH-oFGGFXVFGv1wIbkE5EN6buwNXO-XFQbcV2HrufFbeKYHQBN41B9hg13TiXnuAaElkgePuGEyfM/s320/looking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722880948525507922" border="0" /></a><br />We each took some paper and did what we felt was appropriate with it - some wrote notes, others made origami cranes, and Janet made a picture of an octopus. We then planted some flowers and gathered up for a group photo.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOS1VEIdGY05l2mpAxv-5a_9tpJZ_RPEWZoD6A-XrF2diWy2H4hfZmnodEXBAEbFlvCw2HKiMULjwznpR9aRlvgELozpY4Q8ExfY5YiB5NNiIkNsS2CP0QSjsnS6wQcnYRRLqI4WCArE/s1600/flowers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOS1VEIdGY05l2mpAxv-5a_9tpJZ_RPEWZoD6A-XrF2diWy2H4hfZmnodEXBAEbFlvCw2HKiMULjwznpR9aRlvgELozpY4Q8ExfY5YiB5NNiIkNsS2CP0QSjsnS6wQcnYRRLqI4WCArE/s320/flowers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722891145197131298" border="0" /></a><br />The day did slowly get better and some folks went down to the beach to have a little fun.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK1dTP4YjBOjJwcG3ROuWjcHMOHF3-56wUjXeBxqz82nIO-2rDhzeDGovc8HBcO1yuq1d1ytpS80HN8RQQ-FI5iy8lUF5aU30P-X8mEtLSaBIRvBGxMiYCB45bU9BDvxJ3AWe8pwjG_2A/s1600/hi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK1dTP4YjBOjJwcG3ROuWjcHMOHF3-56wUjXeBxqz82nIO-2rDhzeDGovc8HBcO1yuq1d1ytpS80HN8RQQ-FI5iy8lUF5aU30P-X8mEtLSaBIRvBGxMiYCB45bU9BDvxJ3AWe8pwjG_2A/s320/hi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722891447811212866" border="0" /></a>As with all of our adventures, the day started and ended with food.<br /><br /><table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofvyQcLWz-c9ISaLseNaafwRccz0jXtYaQiBeBykjEqh2e24Cc22YFs462UWtXBs6pp01oKnXf8wbPywdKrdZ-EVWf36fLtDJufdiymoVpMCW98i4oc-Y97dYyanRn3rIjB5O5ZTAd3g/s1600/dimsum.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofvyQcLWz-c9ISaLseNaafwRccz0jXtYaQiBeBykjEqh2e24Cc22YFs462UWtXBs6pp01oKnXf8wbPywdKrdZ-EVWf36fLtDJufdiymoVpMCW98i4oc-Y97dYyanRn3rIjB5O5ZTAd3g/s200/dimsum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722892506398698994" border="0" /></a></td> <td align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLBCm_6bYqWMHzFFDvCi-CklpHdoxUxuch8SB0xqlKcTOmRKKZyksiLhrhgEs9y8BDvW_q9eK2eBQhCYlZ-TPnT5LDBl6eYXIgVTSxJJ_llOSqQgE3FeKjso_x6UDWM9jbu6JaVamOb4/s1600/dinner.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLBCm_6bYqWMHzFFDvCi-CklpHdoxUxuch8SB0xqlKcTOmRKKZyksiLhrhgEs9y8BDvW_q9eK2eBQhCYlZ-TPnT5LDBl6eYXIgVTSxJJ_llOSqQgE3FeKjso_x6UDWM9jbu6JaVamOb4/s200/dinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722892600635155250" border="0" /></a></td> </tr></tbody></table><br /><br />In the end... the day provided each of us what we needed. It allowed us time to reflect... time to be with others who still grieved... and time to continue to heal.<br /><br />But where do we go from here?<br />Today it has now been two years and again we will meet up and catch up as we eat. We will have quiet times and plenty of laughter for sure. In the end there is no solution, no defined road to acceptance, no sign-posts saying that now it's time to stop grieving. The pathway to healing... towards acceptance... is a long and very personal one.<br /><br />For me, nothing can capture Alex and his spirit better than his own writings. This blog of his expresses moments of joy, pain, confusion and determination. For me, as long as this exists I can go back and I can listen to his stories again and again. It is a simple and elegant imprint that he left on the fabric of time which will last long after any of us are around. It is through his writings that I've cried, I've laughed, and I've remembered just how wonderful of a person Alex was... and how much of him that I continue to carry around in me each day.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgik3z8YcAio5OX0c6wyAhbU_UC2wW1dhtDU394YEtlqu-HJvh05hYUn2SHCikGfIiao0N2JiSog88FBta4SBbPADYsmX0DK6a6iE-hIMo9zJ1DfbA8cmDBAEM4BdIbN2aVlSZ6KiPquNc/s1600/atJulias.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgik3z8YcAio5OX0c6wyAhbU_UC2wW1dhtDU394YEtlqu-HJvh05hYUn2SHCikGfIiao0N2JiSog88FBta4SBbPADYsmX0DK6a6iE-hIMo9zJ1DfbA8cmDBAEM4BdIbN2aVlSZ6KiPquNc/s400/atJulias.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722893141241803778" border="0" /></a><br /><br />----------------------------------------<br />Written by: Blase B. Iuliano<br />Edited by: Janet ChengThe G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-65976776494678308772011-03-16T20:53:00.001-07:002012-03-21T20:26:13.858-07:00URNbelievable....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQ6kVymJR1mH0RpzNnvphi4mjIe8rM-cV5z8OBF4eLthOXngcXd8nSWKATeaGrigXV0WSMQnkh5F5DQB6ytKi1fENg1adG6dU2pyq433q47h-tgX3TsE-lskHt7nXFbgBODQgSQ-CiuU/s1600/YankeeUrn-2.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQ6kVymJR1mH0RpzNnvphi4mjIe8rM-cV5z8OBF4eLthOXngcXd8nSWKATeaGrigXV0WSMQnkh5F5DQB6ytKi1fENg1adG6dU2pyq433q47h-tgX3TsE-lskHt7nXFbgBODQgSQ-CiuU/s200/YankeeUrn-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584892577903910050" border="0" /></a><span><span>It's truly unbelievable how many different types of urns there are. Stone, wood, ceramic, glass, metal, mixed, tall, short, round, square, solid and secure to completely biodegradable, elegant to funny, classic to bizarre. To my friends living… you may want to start looking now!</span><span><br /><br />It’s been almost a year now since Alex’s passing. I’m expecting a call any day now to let me know that his remains</span></span><span><span> are ready to be picked up. At that time his sister, Julia, and I will go and collect Alex’s cremated remains. For the last year his body was used for scientific purposes – in hopes of furthering science and improving the lives of others.</span> <span>But now… a year later… what container is there that could capture the essence, the joy, the drive, the heart of Alex?<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ELK-rqnpclTDRc1ISqBgtngWGFy1E61DQum17WNcqNFVT2ivbuItJJ4m-_n_bE2J2Nv03ggydGgQxekY2EprfTjW-xa29VZf_FG4zXc3SzV4WZbi8CCCcAbhJ0Fs5RTvApPXY0Hthbo/s1600/Globe.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ELK-rqnpclTDRc1ISqBgtngWGFy1E61DQum17WNcqNFVT2ivbuItJJ4m-_n_bE2J2Nv03ggydGgQxekY2EprfTjW-xa29VZf_FG4zXc3SzV4WZbi8CCCcAbhJ0Fs5RTvApPXY0Hthbo/s200/Globe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584892581933220546" border="0" /></a><span><span>My only other loved one who was cremated was my grandfather, but picking an urn for him was easy. Having been late to his own wedding because he was in the car listening to the Yankee’s game, his remains were put into a new York Yankees themed urn – complete with baseball. But he had lived a full life and that was a story that was retold every anniversary, baseball game and frankly whenever we needed to put him in his place. Alex’s life though was … incomplete.</span><span><br /><br /></span></span><span><span>We each have a memory of a defining moment with Alex. For me – him being in my rock climbing class and more so when I got him back</span></span><span><span> on the wall for the first time after a round of treatments… for Janet it was probably a much earlier memory of first meeting him in high school… for Serena probably their first kiss... and for his mom and sister – so many possible key moments to choose from to capture him in forever.<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGQm2W6wsMkK5LuCRf2ghgWc24WP2YavHlMJhjqwt1O1lYhXxjtzKy5nJzSCYU47j6fufVciKOjO_Igq1qXqaGp_y5jHmx04q__iVQtw_f9B2FHrO_GY8v7aFFSanx1ZBq3P4o8sKO7Y/s1600/Porcelain.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGQm2W6wsMkK5LuCRf2ghgWc24WP2YavHlMJhjqwt1O1lYhXxjtzKy5nJzSCYU47j6fufVciKOjO_Igq1qXqaGp_y5jHmx04q__iVQtw_f9B2FHrO_GY8v7aFFSanx1ZBq3P4o8sKO7Y/s200/Porcelain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584892580796382066" border="0" /></a><span><span>A tear drop? An orb? A fire hydrant? A box? A bag? A memory? An emotion? </span> <span>What form do you put on the remainder of a person when all that is left is ash?</span><span><br /><br /></span></span><span><span>Frankly… I say none. Alex isn’t in the ashes; Alex is in my heart and memories. Even if I were to take the fragments of DNA available and reconstruct a person from it, that person wouldn’t be Alex. Though he may look like Alex, his memories and experience would be completely different. Maybe he’d become a musician instead… or an artist… or maybe an electrical engineer at Stanford, but even then he still wouldn’t be Alex. The Alex I knew lives on in my heart and mind – not in ashes. As such… since he’s still alive to me – I can talk with him whenever I need and go to his memorial spot to find some solace. </span> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ISeWThu-BwAgy4VaoUTfNgyJ1RHNNI5xkMGXfYWKt-w5YwgyTlZOIjlegURNIIHLJwfqvASRp4jf1ghBDE3IN3u0ScGr64iQlyMnyGJjfvzsc0kk0Gfw6DFYdv0RnGP2-nfSazzCzqU/s1600/wood.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ISeWThu-BwAgy4VaoUTfNgyJ1RHNNI5xkMGXfYWKt-w5YwgyTlZOIjlegURNIIHLJwfqvASRp4jf1ghBDE3IN3u0ScGr64iQlyMnyGJjfvzsc0kk0Gfw6DFYdv0RnGP2-nfSazzCzqU/s200/wood.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584896289870652162" border="0" /></a><span><span>Granted… that still doesn’t help with deciding what urn to pick out for him. It does, though, help me to focus on the important facts – that Alex’s spirit could never be contained by an earthly vessel and that it lives on. We have his ashes, we hold on to memories and we move forward knowing he’s looking out for us. Someday we’ll meet up again. Until then – we live.<br /><br /><br /><br />----------------------------------------<br />Written by: Blase B. Iuliano<br />Edited by: Janet Cheng<br /></span></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-40473035741243180392010-12-24T04:42:00.001-08:002012-03-21T20:26:13.858-07:00Happy Birthday Alex<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">If things were right with the world...Alex would have turned 32 today.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />He would have celebrated with his mother, sister and Dennis. They would have enjoyed a dinner of duck, he would have opened a gift or two and then they would have watched a movie before heading to bed on Christmas Eve.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />If things were right with the world... Over the summer we would have gone climbing and hopefully brought Serena, Janet and maybe even Alan along as well. Alex would have scrambled up something and I would have yelled at him to do it faster, more graceful or something ("Use your legs!) no matter how well he did it. At least I'd yell with a smile and we'd still go out to eat afterwards.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />If things were right with the world Janet, Serena, Alan and crew would have gotten him out skiing. The snow is amazing this year. He would have loved it.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Sadly I'm not the judge of what is right and what isn't. Unfortunately cancer... abnormal cellular growth... does happen. Though so small it can spread and grow and ruin a beautiful life.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />All that we can do is hold on to the love that he had for each of us. Remember his words of comfort, his strength of character and his sidelong looks at us when we did something that he didn't quite agree with but tolerated. He's no longer here, but we are here for each other. Though distance may separate us, and some of us will never meet, we share a common bond in having a great friend named Alex Tung. Someone ... who in his quiet way did what he could to make things right in the world.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Keep up the good works for all your neighbors, all over the world, this holiday season and throughout the new year if for no other reason than that Alex would have wanted you to.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Happy Birthday Alex, and Happy Holidays to all.<br /><br />----------------------------------------<br />Written by: Blase B. Iuliano<br />Edited by: Janet Cheng<br /></span></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-75335990504136921072010-05-29T23:22:00.001-07:002012-03-21T20:26:13.858-07:00Alex Tung Lab Room Dedication Ceremony<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Recently there was a dedication ceremony for the Alex Tung Laboratory for Assistive Technology and Experimental Mechanics (Building 550 Room 134) at Stanford. It was a very nice ceremony with a good attendance of friends - whether faculty, fellow students or other.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><br /><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjchsrnLchaR6im2SW-O_NZhhvOybyjKEceAm-iv7iXaS3cugobHyp8IAPWQUEN9-74LZouZkMf9bMc53D-DgvWwF5lI9678qJF7hbo2AggvKSBkgzRVMKL9Yb31HWrrcnmJGFvT4OYNzg/s1600/2010_05_Alex_Tung_Lab_Room_Dedication_02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjchsrnLchaR6im2SW-O_NZhhvOybyjKEceAm-iv7iXaS3cugobHyp8IAPWQUEN9-74LZouZkMf9bMc53D-DgvWwF5lI9678qJF7hbo2AggvKSBkgzRVMKL9Yb31HWrrcnmJGFvT4OYNzg/s320/2010_05_Alex_Tung_Lab_Room_Dedication_02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477353935498715170" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Below are video clips of the speeches.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> Thank you to everyone who helped make this happen and a special thank you to Micah for organizing the event.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Opening speech by <span style="font-weight: bold;">Brad Osgood</span>, Professor of Electrical Engineering & Senior Associate Dean for Student</span><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IbDciG2L1d4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IbDciG2L1d4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Speech by <span style="font-weight: bold;">Bob Dutton</span>, Professor, Electrical Engineering at Stanford.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/67zf6BbUQ_8&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/67zf6BbUQ_8&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">David Jaffe</span> - Associate Director, Assistive Technology Laboratory at Stanford (ATLAS)</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/019cpHHn_Zc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/019cpHHn_Zc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />Julian Gorodsky</span> - d.shrink, Hasso Plattner Institute of Design</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XWcFDWF5gzA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XWcFDWF5gzA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />Sheri Sheppard </span>- Professor, Mechanical Engineering</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UTTmStTkBw4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UTTmStTkBw4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />Ed Carrye</span> - Consulting Professor, Mechanical Engineering</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2PFLm3W_HXM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2PFLm3W_HXM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />Carlotte Jacobs</span>, MD - Alex's physician.</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I1uLSuhzTIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I1uLSuhzTIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />Greg Brown</span>, Director of Education and Membership at Resource Area For Teaching (RAFT)</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D-jmD93jDeY&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D-jmD93jDeY&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />Leonard Ortolano</span> - UPS Foundation Professor of Civil Engineering in Urban and Regional Planning, Former Faculty Director of the Haas Center for Public Service.</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qgXXA0Sw8A4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qgXXA0Sw8A4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br />Closing remarks by Brad Osgood</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qJApqffRPFY&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qJApqffRPFY&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br />A quick look at the room which will become the lab. Right now it's being used more for storage.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><object style="font-family: arial;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EBlDdLIKpcU&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EBlDdLIKpcU&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div></div><br />----------------------------------------<br />Written by: Blase B. Iuliano<br />Edited by: Janet ChengThe G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-24907513007241726112010-04-08T17:22:00.001-07:002012-03-21T20:26:13.859-07:00Good Grief, Grieving SUCKS!!<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It's been 2 months now since Alex's passing. We've cleaned out his room, packed away clothes and remembrances his mom wants to keep, friends have also taken various items -some practical (e.g. clothes, sleeping bag, etc) and some not so practical (a bendy smile face guy). Just whatever we felt we could honor, or remember, Alex by holding on to.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I've compiled all of his external hard drives (3), laptop and desktops (2) ... boiling it down to less than 1TB of data... mostly pictures and music. Along the way I've read some very touching stories he wrote, a whole lotta school stuff and the various random assortment of just random bits and bytes.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Slowly I'm getting back to doing the things I enjoy (I actually wrote most this post from Yosemite). So today I'm going to write about my grieving experience over the loss of my bud, Alex.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Everyone is unique. Everyone grieves differently and differently for each relationship lost. How I grieved when my Italian grandma died from the cancer that was noticed years earlier and never treated until it was too late was very different from how I "grieved" over my Czech grandfather who finally passed away in October after being on death's door for some 6+ years. Neither of those deaths had the sudden impact, nor the same grief I felt at the loss of Mark, an extended family member and friend in 9-11 who I was suppose to visit that summer, but pushed out the trip to the upcoming Christmas break due to work.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Yes, there are general phases that folks can go through. You can DABDA me all you want - but remember those are just general, and fluid, phases. Grieving isn't some step-by-step process, it's a day-by-day, moment-by-moment one. Folks don't go through it like Lowell on Wing's:</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7kxKQkfY0M (time frame: 5:07-5:55)... but it sure would make thing easier.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />This is just how I'm grieving... how I'm feeling... what I'm experiencing... over the loss of my buddy, Alex.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Losing someone sucks. As an extroverted-introvert I'd love to have 1:1 time with everyone. Fortunately over the last few years I had a lot of 1:1 time with Alex.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" ><br /><br />"But he's just a friend?!"</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Yeah - I've heard that from folks by their words and actions. "Just cheer up!" has been another common one. Those comments are seen in the opposite extreme from folks who just look confused/hurt around me and do the stutter speech and quickly retreat.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />And, of course, my grief just isn't for my loss of Alex, but also those I know who cared about him greatly. Time and time again I use to watch as his mom did the same thing I saw my mom use to do when my sister was going through chemo. She'd come into the room with a tray of food and a smile on her face and try to make some joke or smart aleck comments which just usually was responded to with eye-rolling and a groan. She'd sit and encourage her beloved child to eat "Come on, just take one more bite" and when finally finished she'd pick up the tray which still contained most of the food it entered the room with, walk out of the room and in to the kitchen and by the time she put the tray down on the counter the tears streaked her face.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I saw this time and time again, until the tears ran dry and just a sullen look remained. The only grace I could offer was a hug - a hug to let her know that though I'd never know her pain, I do recognize that she is in pain and loved.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" ><br /><br />It's a Toothbrush!</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />While going through the boxes of items which were his, I found a toothbrush with his climbing and camping gear. Climbers use them to brush off holds, this one could have been used for the same purpose.</span></span><br /><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br />I-see-him-staggering-in-to-climbing-class-at-7:30am-and-walking-out-tired-and-sweaty-Giving-a-belay-at-Phantom-Spires-with-a-big-smile-on-his-face-Laughing-Sitting-on-the-couch-reading-Helping-me-with-a-research-paper-Laying-in-the-hospital-bed-With-hair-Without-hair-Chemo-drip-drip-dripping-Grimacing-as-pain-shoot-through-his-side-Looking-at-me-with-wide-concerned-eye-Hugging-a-frail-body-Laying-on-the-couch-with-oxygen-tubes-in-his-nose-Laying-in-bed-fitfully-moving-on-his-last-night-WHY-DIDN’T-I-STAY?-He-only-had-hours-to-live-Didn’t-I-have-time-to-stay-just-a-little-longer?-I-knew-he-was-slipping-away-but-why-did-I-go?-SHIT!-The-gurney-clangs-and-the-chime-sound-as-they-take-his-body-away-Flurry-of-service-preparations-Mourning-put-on-hold-Constant-activity-Staying-Busy---Pause---The-beach-The-picture-of-him-The-service.-He’s-gone-He’s-in-my-heart-He’s-gone-he’s-gone.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I drop it.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I stare at it.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I slowly reach down and pick it up again. I examine the worn and splayed toothbrush that belonged to a friend of mine... and I toss it out. It's only a toothbrush.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />There are still moments when it really gets to me that he's gone. And even though I may "accept" it, it doesn't make it suck any less. I miss my bud.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It is good to know I'm not alone. As Janet put it after editing this post:<br />"2 months later...life has almost returned to normal, which, not too long ago, seemed unimaginable. of course, it's a new version of normal, and i'm certainly still very fragile emotionally, but at least i don't feel like my world is about to fall apart all the time. it still hits me every once in a while, and i'm momentarily stunned by the reality of it, but it doesn't entirely overwhelm me like it used to. guh, but i do miss him. a heart-wrenching, insides-twisting-up feeling of loss. i wonder if that'll ever go away."</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Yeah... grieving sucks.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Doesn't just suck for the bereaved either...</span><br />Not knowing what to do though also sucks. I had a lot of friends say they didn't know what to do or say. In response, I put together the below things that will hopefully help. Again though - this is just from my perspective of this loss.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">"I'm sorry"</span></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Just saying "I'm sorry" means and helps so much. Don't try to search for "the right thing to say" just keep it simple and say "I'm sorry"</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Understand the relationship</span></span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Ask "How did you know ____</span><so-and-so style="font-family: arial;">", "When did you last see him/her", "What did s/he mean to you" That way you'll get an understanding of the level of a relationship the person had and the level of loss now felt.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Be there, not just "available".</span><br />A person grieving doesn't (usually) want to depress others - so s/he will withdraw. So don't say "Call me if you need anything" but "what can I do to help?" Don't say "Call me if you want to grab a bite" but "Let's go get something to eat/drink." In the immediate aftermath of the events the bereaved doesn't think clearly and proper eating, sleeping and exercise habits are gone. In the immediate future - food is generally the most important, so work on that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Laughter, isn't always, the best medicine<br /></span>Don't try to cheer your friend up, just hang out and be with him/her. Be supportive, understanding, and above all - patient. Phrases like "Just cheer up!", "I hope you're feeling better!" and "C'mon- smile!" just hurt. They trivialize the situation. Yes - all meant with best intentions I'm sure - but it's like having an arm ripped off and someone saying "Here's a little band aid for you!" and expecting it to be all better.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nudge</span><br />Don't force/drag your friend out, but just nudge 'em along. "Hey - lets go grab some coffee" and later "How about dinner with some other folks". It's much easier to hang out with people who are like-minded... who have suffered the similar loss... but it's also necessary to get back to living and hanging with others who may not have felt the loss.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Love on & Allow time </span>(aka Be Patient)<br />In all you do, in all you say - just love on your friend as much as possible. Even if you're confused - just be there; if you don't know what to say - just hug; if you don't know what to do - just sit down and hang out. Life does go on, but for the bereaved it just slows down to a crawl. So try to match the pace for a little while and just take it slow.<br /><br />These are the things I found most helpful - so hopefully they'll help you. Please feel free to add on your suggestions as well.<br /><br /></so-and-so></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-75418242438539579372010-04-07T16:44:00.002-07:002012-03-22T08:07:19.300-07:00Alex Tung's Memorial Service<div style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Updated 5/23/2010 with David's speech.<br />--------------------<br />As I said before, the day was beautiful. The sun was shining through lightly cloudy skies, the usual strong coastal wind was a comfortable breeze, and the roaring ocean was only a murmur.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex loved being outside in nature and we were able to find a great location in Half Moon Bay. The first day we saw it, the weather was stormy and gray, but the next time it was bright sunshine and hot. We just had to hope that the weather would be okay on Sunday.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQLun5gnlTCNxDy8uKBZxPKjdhi_foCwXrlk2TiuzvB8-dDr6mDJjfSccR2jNCKYR8UKTbfXJWmiqSiTsFVmtQEnkl39lsK-V77h-PS6VUaz3ohRm7k6S0M9tLpwwo_RP8aGxLUNd9ng/s1600/02.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457648933023558674" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQLun5gnlTCNxDy8uKBZxPKjdhi_foCwXrlk2TiuzvB8-dDr6mDJjfSccR2jNCKYR8UKTbfXJWmiqSiTsFVmtQEnkl39lsK-V77h-PS6VUaz3ohRm7k6S0M9tLpwwo_RP8aGxLUNd9ng/s400/02.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >A view of the bluff where the service was held, taken from an adjacent bluff.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLOHcKyMkiZDbZ267QclgIJvb70uwkoqCwpQicKcOFoVqC6Er7OAPPmjVY4cPOp89eoapm5k2F3hF1PB7kTDDKUXY9UyJknCXuwGQBmVVVWrj0kT4pGD1b4D_qbTI0yCnsM817d3oDUM/s1600/01.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457648202537594274" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 268px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLOHcKyMkiZDbZ267QclgIJvb70uwkoqCwpQicKcOFoVqC6Er7OAPPmjVY4cPOp89eoapm5k2F3hF1PB7kTDDKUXY9UyJknCXuwGQBmVVVWrj0kT4pGD1b4D_qbTI0yCnsM817d3oDUM/s400/01.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >People had already started gathering on the ocean bluff point by 10:30am last Sunday. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">A picture of Alex was set up so that the people would look at him and the speaker with the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1FoD1JCCFTTb2xaMw-Pxsfe4GpJORsEIL-KoMrioJMMUTC8v-_M5ZNw1td9v67BdZgz7OOb5mQliojPBKo-be5XgYO4YMbfvFv0H55HzzCC6J7FXOq3JJDgnifRiuoywerEhfjPtGjQ/s1600/3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457652782386666466" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1FoD1JCCFTTb2xaMw-Pxsfe4GpJORsEIL-KoMrioJMMUTC8v-_M5ZNw1td9v67BdZgz7OOb5mQliojPBKo-be5XgYO4YMbfvFv0H55HzzCC6J7FXOq3JJDgnifRiuoywerEhfjPtGjQ/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >People continued to gather, laid down their blankets, and consoled each other as best they could.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XzSEcE3wnUYG2BAnTVzm9KNt1hXkthak5qV4E7PkKLN0UpQwFuWArOtCJr0V8rXg73aAW7-ed-yusAPKAHQq5DLzQYOwBlgtTXEgdTabsN2cGxhxRpWE-YoCrMz7sQkFyt1QdCMLIfA/s1600/4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653115879717554" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XzSEcE3wnUYG2BAnTVzm9KNt1hXkthak5qV4E7PkKLN0UpQwFuWArOtCJr0V8rXg73aAW7-ed-yusAPKAHQq5DLzQYOwBlgtTXEgdTabsN2cGxhxRpWE-YoCrMz7sQkFyt1QdCMLIfA/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Friends continued to stream in and sign the guest book and tried to provide words of comfort to Alex’s grieving mother and sister.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0_54jNteO7KaAphHhApug-xsZrC8fl4SB8u1EVjeQTw4ty8-Dc9NBslEMMYNfR8KQicS8G5k1Z-ZTfk0yheC_HTFjSAObNydn8m0wKHmuMTX25vxZRG0gJo0IummC6DkqlehTGS5bLg/s1600/5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653124076581458" style="width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0_54jNteO7KaAphHhApug-xsZrC8fl4SB8u1EVjeQTw4ty8-Dc9NBslEMMYNfR8KQicS8G5k1Z-ZTfk0yheC_HTFjSAObNydn8m0wKHmuMTX25vxZRG0gJo0IummC6DkqlehTGS5bLg/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Shortly after 11:00 over 200 friends and family members, some of them from far away - East coast, Europe, Hawaii, Taiwan, New Mexico, etc. were asked to take their seats for the service to begin. We knew that many more people were unable to be with us in person, but attended in spirit.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZphSiaf2omgFESe2G6C3rmv5DSnnX84cajoLn56zygvFCBbx2-_4Xgwq8qB6kOSxYMR4PTlIXJPntq8CvZUoW0-psLaA9-XWKgW_lEv7jXe4RB6vRhG9g1-Yh1cvyxYVxjGkfzSRmO0/s1600/6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653130147835986" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 200px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZphSiaf2omgFESe2G6C3rmv5DSnnX84cajoLn56zygvFCBbx2-_4Xgwq8qB6kOSxYMR4PTlIXJPntq8CvZUoW0-psLaA9-XWKgW_lEv7jXe4RB6vRhG9g1-Yh1cvyxYVxjGkfzSRmO0/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Before continuing on, please start the music playlist below. The songs are the three selections sung and played by friends of Alex during the service</span>.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/p/7FC803B31F860858&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/p/7FC803B31F860858&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><div style="text-align: left;">Angel was the first to speak and officiated the memorial service. After him, family and friends who covered Alex’s entire life came up to speak. The text of their speech is included below, but I have left out all of the breaks for tears and trembling voices. Each speaker spoke from their heart, and told of his or her love for Alex. He touched so many lives and is deeply missed.</div></div><p></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWoJ-y_0ppIrTniNbOzJzDJV85Gz2oIoayN_VQ583-vDn_841-E1NXmrBuf7mQ5vTpD7jATmEsAkLDtjIq9Uz53_GRM2iA2vFgezHRPkcZBXhfubLrpaUPp8VAZ6V7evjHkj22h3PcHM/s1600/08.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653144186170434" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWoJ-y_0ppIrTniNbOzJzDJV85Gz2oIoayN_VQ583-vDn_841-E1NXmrBuf7mQ5vTpD7jATmEsAkLDtjIq9Uz53_GRM2iA2vFgezHRPkcZBXhfubLrpaUPp8VAZ6V7evjHkj22h3PcHM/s400/08.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >The following is the speech by Angel, Alex’s undergraduate advisor.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iSKNLv1R1zfRH0JAt7RspPH_qrZnB1hKrzi03di-YT_PiK2DtAHTUoOMwMlwFY9oJ71dZfUyfSkebuEGh9ehvarnlkxhhCbTrgu8hnGdcrVKL868mVCno5LtDjUkZfZOnroLmhyphenhyphenDiRQ/s1600/07.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653142432563410" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iSKNLv1R1zfRH0JAt7RspPH_qrZnB1hKrzi03di-YT_PiK2DtAHTUoOMwMlwFY9oJ71dZfUyfSkebuEGh9ehvarnlkxhhCbTrgu8hnGdcrVKL868mVCno5LtDjUkZfZOnroLmhyphenhyphenDiRQ/s400/07.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“Dear Family and friends of Alex:</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Today is a truly unique day in our lives. All of our paths cross together at this place and time. The spirit, the memory, and the life of Alex brings us all together, his body having already followed his will that it be donated for research to benefit others. We come here with sadness in our hearts, we come with a higher appreciation of life itself, we come with the joy of times past, and with the regrets of opportunities missed. Some of us, who were older than him and who ignored the futility of making life plans may even come here with a little bit of anger; anger at life itself because with Alex, life did not respect the natural order of things. The order that dictates that a mother leaves before her son does, that a professor departs before his student, and that friends and lovers shall march away together.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I first met Alex on September 18, 1996….at 4pm….I was appointed as his faculty freshman advisor at Stanford. In a million years, no one would have picked us to become friends. He was a 17-year old kid with shoulder-length hair; dyed blond for good measure. Intellectual, but pretending to be cool, rejecting pomp and circumstance, and deeply wanting to change the world. I, on the other hand, was twice his age and the type of person who thinks that a shirt and tie are casual clothing. But friends we did become, and thus we were, since that initial meeting until we said goodbye, for four thousand nine hundred and thirty five days. And what I received from Alex in all those days was nothing but affection, smiles, understanding, an open heart and mind, and a love and friendship that grew at least a little bit every single day. I cherish all those times, and for most of those days, I went to bed giving thanks for the great gift that I had been given in Alex.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Each of us wonders what we have achieved in life. For one, we want to love and be loved in return. For two, we want to learn to be virtuous and live life in peace. If those are the measures, then Alex overachieved all his life. Even though I meet many of you here today for the first time, I know nevertheless most of you already through Alex. He would tell me how much he loved his high school friends, how he cherished his family, how he felt a lifetime bond with his freshman dorm mates, and how deeply in love he was with his girlfriend. Wherever he went and whoever he met he gave love and found love. And then, as a professor, I learned much from this student about the virtues of man. I saw humility, I saw kindness, I saw charity, and I saw fortitude in his words and his deeds. He travelled far seeking a measure of justice for the poor, and he worked near to promote the human side of doing business: A young life indeed, but with a century’s worth of heavenly gold.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And thus, we will now seek to keep the light of Alex glowing in our lives and in the lives of others. We can do so in our everyday actions by learning from his virtues and by remembering his love. His life is in each and every one of you; it has not departed and sad will be the day if you ever let it leave.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >I brought my young son with me today. He is too young to understand this moment. But I wanted above all that his life path would also cross with all of ours in this place and time. Whereas for us this intersection is a destination, for him it can instead be a departure. The day will come for him when he will have to choose between right and wrong, between love and hate, and between virtue and sin. When that time comes, he will not have to search in books for answers, he will not have to stare at a poster or fall for a false prophet. Instead, I’ll be able to come to him and say: “Son, search no more for a virtuous man, you have already met such a man, let me tell you all about Alex”.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you all</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">God Bless you Alex”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Next to speak was Alex’s cousin, Monica</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyoD9Js7q1mvMkrIPMu29CwuwH37qG9UDfVqfSA7mS9SPPP8symhe7RzaY86kjXIP4WBj2AxkJeuGZDqo_jYe1Tfkwy-B8HVQCj7nwmXuk5gHmywsrPJ6hi4ypGdBwRBqClDFAAx9Xlj0/s1600/09.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653271726831298" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyoD9Js7q1mvMkrIPMu29CwuwH37qG9UDfVqfSA7mS9SPPP8symhe7RzaY86kjXIP4WBj2AxkJeuGZDqo_jYe1Tfkwy-B8HVQCj7nwmXuk5gHmywsrPJ6hi4ypGdBwRBqClDFAAx9Xlj0/s400/09.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“I am so grateful to see and have seen all the support and friendships that Alex had throughout his life and present today. My name is Monica and I’m Alex’s cousin. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Even though we’ve lived far from each other most of our lives, I have many fond memories of my cousin Alex. My childhood memories of him include hot afternoons at the swimming pool, and running around with our lanterns in during moon festivals. But it was not until recent years, into our adulthood, where I’ve gotten to know Alex as the supportive, generous, and playful person that he was. </span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Alex has been a supporter and a true family member to me. It meant a great deal to me when he showed up at all of my recent big life events, getting married, having children, bringing us his cheerfulness and sharing our joys. I had a canopy that was collapsing at my wedding ceremony, he was the first to rush to save it. He and Serena were also the ones to take me on my first outdoor stroll after my first baby. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">In always a gentle manner, Alex told you the truth on his mind, and supported you in the best and appropriate way that he knew how. He also had a sarcastic edge to him. I am not to admit “losing” any heated discussions, but I did take a few well-thought-out jabs from him. </span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Our family is so proud of Alex, both of his professional and personal achievements, and even more so of the incredible man that he was. All of us here knew that he was brilliant at what he did and generous with his time with Cosmos Education, his friends and families. I am heartbroken that he’s left us, but cherish the memories that I have of him. I love you Alex.”</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Janet, a friend of Alex’s since high school, spoke next.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBKFMumpCmJfBuR0gVDltol9aDDlYfEknSeaLJyW1RV-C1MS0RVKL9ZMF267uxONl7aJRUtpBLRVnD8f19K7Zo_Lcs6YhSTyEpFcOk1RGR6e-yRaWonUQkVl6roWnHKsv9fygPfQTzrc/s1600/10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653280734166098" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBKFMumpCmJfBuR0gVDltol9aDDlYfEknSeaLJyW1RV-C1MS0RVKL9ZMF267uxONl7aJRUtpBLRVnD8f19K7Zo_Lcs6YhSTyEpFcOk1RGR6e-yRaWonUQkVl6roWnHKsv9fygPfQTzrc/s400/10.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“I first met Alex in the ninth grade back at Conestoga High School in Berwyn, Pennsylvania. I remember walking into science class on the first day of school, where he flashed me a smile, and I instantly developed a huge crush on him. While that never quite panned out, it was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Throughout the years of high school, our circle grew to include a small squadron of friends. One of the things that made us unique was our inability to make decisions. We could never decide where to go or what to do, but in the end, we realized that it really didn’t matter. All we wanted was to simply be together.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And we truly always were together. Every free moment we had, we’d be swimming at Alex’s, or shooting pool at Tom’s, or playing video games at Andrew’s. We were this group of – not just friends, but best friends – that insisted on doing everything together, even when it was actually just doing nothing. </span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >I always felt that Alex was the moral backbone of the group, which extended and matured well past high school. He grew to become a man of such integrity and compassion, and was the most honest and genuine guy that I’d ever known. I could always count on him to tell me what he truly thought, and nothing ever got past his watchful eye. I’ll miss having that voice of reason keeping me in check.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex loved meeting new people, trying new things, and exploring new places. It was invigorating for him, and through these new experiences, he became much more than an engineer - he was a musician, a photographer, a poet, a humanitarian, an outdoorsman, and so much more. He was never afraid to launch himself full force into something he was passionate about. As a result, he was able to touch the lives of so many people, many of whom I see here today.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Alex always expected the best out of all of us, and so we always strived to do our best and to achieve our full potential. I’m a better person because he was in my life, and I’ll continue to live it as he would have wanted me to. Alex, we love you and we miss you.”</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >After Janet, there was a musical interlude as two of Alex’s friends – Jeff and Tom – through tears and throat clenched pauses, played and sang heart-touching renditions of Israel Kamakawiwo'ole’s “Over the Rainbow”, REM’s “Night Swimming” (one of Alex’s favorite bands), and Rusted Root’s “Send Me on My Way” (the informal theme song among his group of high school friends).</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauLP8x1-n8nODgM0euA8UfBfJu8JCfRpVpclE9SNk73KSiFibq6m4pMJQ_c8cDc4VXrDJkFT71kf-o_VpX56zJPHLcCAieJCHW8pyACUrUzLJTGF2tBEfT5Cqf4Bwl9emZaze3JdSxoM/s1600/11.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653287832762562" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauLP8x1-n8nODgM0euA8UfBfJu8JCfRpVpclE9SNk73KSiFibq6m4pMJQ_c8cDc4VXrDJkFT71kf-o_VpX56zJPHLcCAieJCHW8pyACUrUzLJTGF2tBEfT5Cqf4Bwl9emZaze3JdSxoM/s400/11.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >** ** **</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Then Mike, Alex’s friend since freshman year of college, spoke.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRP2jc5nE3V711AOwWAPVe9_NEWaLLbLCRh2zqsfgkKX3pwZ1GIT5SJAYTenJbFA2QYINPcStKAUw-TAA-h3ug8Ihs4XmJxEhQxclvUpK2YbWeF2elrVxMXcQcZNqvkFnjUxNVeYUUeZY/s1600/12.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653289672910930" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRP2jc5nE3V711AOwWAPVe9_NEWaLLbLCRh2zqsfgkKX3pwZ1GIT5SJAYTenJbFA2QYINPcStKAUw-TAA-h3ug8Ihs4XmJxEhQxclvUpK2YbWeF2elrVxMXcQcZNqvkFnjUxNVeYUUeZY/s400/12.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“Alex and I met because we lived in the same dorm our freshman year in college. From the moment I saw him I knew there was something special about him. We were both in engineering, had the same freshman adviser, and had the same girly hair. Little did I know it would take most of our undergraduate years for people to figure out who was Alex and who was me. Alex was such an amazing and unique person that I can't believe that anyone would actually think I was him.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Early in that first year at Stanford, Holly Thomas decided she didn't really like her own room and started looking around for places to study and hang out. She tried using my room, among others, as a second home and didn't always find a hospitable environment. She ended up spending most of her time in Alex and Michael Vortmann's room, essentially living under Michael's bed. Alex never said a word, and welcomed Holly into the room, letting her come and go as she pleased. When he knew she was feeling down or having a bad day, Alex would surprise her with her favorite food - macaroni and cheese. Holly became so comfortable that she started answering their phone and chatting with Alex's friends, mostly Amina, who today is as much of a friend to us as Alex was.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Alex's concern for others was not isolated to this one person or time. He was always doing things to surprise other people that no one else would think of, and he brought us all so much joy. For instance, after Michael graduated from medical school, Alex sent him a box full of photos from our time in college together, and made him a poster with pictures of the most special moments. He put a quote on the poster by Zora Neale Hurston that read, "There are years that ask questions. And years that answer." When we were sophomores, Alex snuck into Xanadu dorm where Jessica, Holly, Neiha, and Kerry were living, really early one morning. When Jessica woke up, she found that the dorm had been decorated with a giant poster reading 'Happy Birthday Jess!" And after undergraduate graduation, on his European backpacking trip with Jannon, he was always coming up with ways for the two to make the most of every city.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex spoke about wanting to make the world better, but he backed up those ideas with his work. He was so great at combining his love for science and engineering with his love of public service. He helped people through education and outreach on both on a local and international scale. He championed and worked countless hours for organizations including Cosmos Education, Stanford Anthology for Youth, the Haas Center, the Office of Engineering and Public Service, and the Science Bus, among others.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Alex had an exceptionally open and welcome spirit. So many people I know have reflected about special conversations that they had with Alex, or how they enjoyed just being around him, or even just how they had a crush on him. That was the effect that Alex had on people. Alex not only surrounded himself with these wonderful people, but connected them to each other too. Throughout college, Alex told us so many great stories about his friends from Pennsylvania that when he got around to introducing his weird college friends to his weird high school friends, it was as if we had known each other for years. Because Alex surrounded himselfwith such great people, it's no surprise that those friends became our friends, and that they are now among the people we talk to and lean on every day. I am so thankful that Alex brought us together.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex's strength is amazing. Whenever we would visit, he managed a smile and perked up, even when he wasn't feeling great. More often than not, I felt like he was the one lending support to me instead of the other way around. He never stopped living and learning. This last summer, we took a trip to Lake Shasta to spend a weekend on a houseboat, and Alex did it all. Alex rushed from a doctor's appointment and traveled for hours to join us. He brought his camera, and spent the weekend capturing a beautiful weekend on the lake. He even found time to learn how to water ski. His smile during that trip was something I will remember forever.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >I love that Alex would stick up for the people who need to be defended. I love the memories of all of those summers packing 4 or more people into apartments and making the best of it. I love Alex's cynic and sarcastic wit, and the optimism that lay just beneath. I love that we could always talk, no matter how long it had been, and it would be like no time had passed at all. I love Alex, and I will never ever forget the time that we had together.”</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >David, Alex’s graduate school co-advisor, spoke next. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcIbPj1v2ELY8-nT3bXQnBNi-UiEFmMxrg5NpgVh-pVS9jB4-kH9l2B7qsFkaYnu5hQigS48jdxda0fyWCvKCSS39TFqptDhiCNgICWXPAwfzLMPD5yX0KKbbw6w11KYDmmaPKs2EqDQ/s1600/13.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653294987998802" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcIbPj1v2ELY8-nT3bXQnBNi-UiEFmMxrg5NpgVh-pVS9jB4-kH9l2B7qsFkaYnu5hQigS48jdxda0fyWCvKCSS39TFqptDhiCNgICWXPAwfzLMPD5yX0KKbbw6w11KYDmmaPKs2EqDQ/s400/13.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >It is odd that only in times like this that we truly understand and appreciate those around us. In seeing this gathering of friends and family I see the richness of Alex and his life that I did not truly understand until now.<br /><br />The facet of Alex that I know of Alex was as his PhD dissertation advisor. I first met Alex about 7 years ago shortly after he passed his PhD qualifying exam. He was looking for a project that fit his intellectual interests, but also fit his sense of things that were important. He came very highly recommended by Bob Dutton and Steve Connolly. As any good advisor would do I promptly set him off on directions that led him no where. Fortunately, he learned from this and ultimately formulated a cohesive body of work that lays a foundation for new medical tools to treat patients with less suffering and pain.<br /><br />Although, Alex proved to be a determined and outstanding scientist and engineer, his heart as many have already related was with service and education. I remember Alex taking the summer to go to Africa with Cosmos. When he returned, he had such enthusiasm from his experience that I was certain that he would never return to the hum drum life in the lab. As is typical of Alex, we went through and analyzed his interests and goals and he realized that the doctorate would give him the credentials he would need to achieve greater impact. He didn’t let his return to research, however interfere with his love of service and teaching. There were many evenings when I would come to the lab at night to find student projects from the Science Bus scattered throughout.<br /><br />It is sad that Alex life was cut short, but we can find solace in hearing of his deeds and seeing his friends around us. We can know that his life was a full one. In the end we should not judge the value of a life by its duration, but its richness. In this regard Alex’s life has been and will be very valued by all around him.<br /><br />** ** **</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dana, a friend from Cosmos Education was up next.</span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYAeMJ3Fahk-pLkUbMQ6P-UxwEvPvtHNY6ttENEHEsFa5y7Ahlrhk2QVu1CnP7q4ljlo1v1E9peg183cZvzuVQQcSeAT6bG7Y6mYna1VRj3XwKapZh9dRwpOAuraLKpSgdXZsz-xFSp90/s1600/14.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653455138404946" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYAeMJ3Fahk-pLkUbMQ6P-UxwEvPvtHNY6ttENEHEsFa5y7Ahlrhk2QVu1CnP7q4ljlo1v1E9peg183cZvzuVQQcSeAT6bG7Y6mYna1VRj3XwKapZh9dRwpOAuraLKpSgdXZsz-xFSp90/s400/14.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“My name is Dana. Alex and I worked together on Cosmos Education, an organization that many others have already mentioned today. Cosmos is a nonprofit that does work to improve science education in Africa. Alex was a true anchor for the organization and he will be missed tremendously.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">As I look out on all the wonderful friends and family that have gathered here today in memory of Alex, I can't help but think of all of the people who could not be here. This includes Cosmos colleagues in Kenya, in Zambia, in the UK, and countless secondary school students from across Africa. I know that they are also here in spirit.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >While I was reflecting on what to share with all of you today, I thought about the numerous ways in which Alex was special. But what stuck out for me above all else was how thoughtful and reflective Alex was. And how he was always thinking with both his head and his heart.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">On the intellectual side, Alex confronted the complexities of development and was always asking smart questions and learning as much as he could. He knew that good intentions alone were not enough and that if he truly wanted to make a difference (which he did) then he needed to understand the complexities. Alex put his knowledge to practice as he strove to increase Cosmos's impact.</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >On the human side, Alex didn't let the complexities of development keep him from acting. He was the first to respond in times of crisis. When the house of a Zambian colleague burnt down, Alex was the first to rally support. Five days or so after I met Alex for the first time, we were together on a Cosmos trip in Zambia and I found myself in the unfortunate situation of having an ATM card that had expired and knowing I still had two months left to go in Africa. Even though he barely knew me, Alex didn't hesitate to start withdrawing money from his own account for me and bankrolled the rest of my trip to Africa. (Yes, I did pay him back!)</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">There is a quote posted on one of the walls at the Hewlett Foundation where I work that is purportedly a favorite and William Hewlett which says "never stifle a generous impulse." I think Alex lived by this every day, and in his passing I hope we are all able to follow his example.”</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >** ** **</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Serena, Alex’s friend from graduate school, and recent girlfriend then spoke of Alex’s quirkiness.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJojhToajlwi4p3vu4iC5y_6YyUTBp0h9kFZiU2lpvnuC-9vlFafW_38Zow4PGtQsgi1_GDTBCbUA37kO4g_Tvm9FpMt82RBFJ7uDAkxpexSpth8N0O4z_BOxnXAE5OFuoZ1AO8wTyKU/s1600/15.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653458157901186" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJojhToajlwi4p3vu4iC5y_6YyUTBp0h9kFZiU2lpvnuC-9vlFafW_38Zow4PGtQsgi1_GDTBCbUA37kO4g_Tvm9FpMt82RBFJ7uDAkxpexSpth8N0O4z_BOxnXAE5OFuoZ1AO8wTyKU/s400/15.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“Seeing everyone who came today really shows how much Alex's generosity has touched everyone's life. I don’t think that any words could fully capture his spirit, but I wanted to share a couple of quirks that made Alex truly Alex.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><ol style="font-family:arial;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex hates chocolate, but will eat oreo cookies</span></li><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><li><span style="font-size:100%;">He loves cherry flavoring, including cherry coke and cherry flavored antibiotics.</span></li><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><li><span style="font-size:100%;">His sign is a smiley face with tongue sticking out to the right</span></li><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex gives a disapproving face to people who don't recycle or properly dispose of trash; he will carry trash for miles to throw it away properly</span></li><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex is a loveable nerd; I especially appreciate his 3dB wall </span></li><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><li><span style="font-size:100%;">He is very huggable since he has a very nice curve to his shoulder</span></li><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><li><span style="font-size:100%;">He is a packrat because he really cherishes everything, including all the cards and messages you all have sent him through the years.</span></li></ol><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">... of course there are many more attributes which make him so unique and memorable.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I would like to end with one of Alex's favorite quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson, which I think really exemplifies him:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived. This is to have succeeded.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Last on the schedule, having known Alex for the shortest amount of time, was me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3JCRJkJratEqYORjBA6y64EIlCO2_98rmXGxfYk-nzGMOaUw3fkGzdwXUnHv0VabXcaD3vsya-uHmZiNO-y6hK8y331iB3Xr2DfCidcFGC4wP27tZu41HiXAkfmhbgozx5dzqsEctkM/s1600/16.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653466880970274" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3JCRJkJratEqYORjBA6y64EIlCO2_98rmXGxfYk-nzGMOaUw3fkGzdwXUnHv0VabXcaD3vsya-uHmZiNO-y6hK8y331iB3Xr2DfCidcFGC4wP27tZu41HiXAkfmhbgozx5dzqsEctkM/s400/16.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“The first day I met Alex… I yelled at him.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I told him to “climb harder”, “watch your footwork”, “keep going”… he left the Rock Climbing Strength and Conditioning class that I was teaching at Stanford with a smile on his face and sweat on his brow. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I knew I did my job well when he came back the next week for more.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I just loved how he gave it his all – constantly giving his best effort and making such a great impact on the rest of his fellow classmates as well by shouting words of encouragement and pushing, whoever was his partner for the day, to his or her limits. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">After the quarter ended we continued to hang out – and I took him out on some group climbing trips – and at some point, somehow, we became good friends … and his climbing did improve too.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Now that I’ve been able to see a much more complete picture of who Alex was, and all the amazing things he did, it’s surprising that he had the time to climb at all.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex was involved with so many, and such diverse, groups. From helping middle school students find “their voice” through writing to science education and sustainable living in Africa.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He helped countless people all over the world.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Despite having such a short time, he managed a high impact. In reading the outpouring of responses and emails I’ve received since updating his blog it has absolutely amazed me the positive impact he had on so many lives. Each “Alex experience” that was shared showed his great and caring personality – each had a touching story to tell about how he impacted their lives for the better - pulling out the very best in those around him.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">People who got to know Alex were changed for the better.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And I, like you, have the pleasure, and honor, of including myself in that category.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Though he’s no longer here to climb with, laugh with, or make fun of me – he will always be with me in my heart and memories. He helped shape me to be the person I am today.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You never know when will be the last time you say goodbye to a friend – so cherish your friends and follow Alex’s example - and make a positive impact.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I love you buddy.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Afterwards Angel closed out that portion of the service and other individuals, who felt moved to speak, also came up and shared their stories.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">First was Alan,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1r2IAqwOn5Ikz9z9y07RAFI_GVUDNO95veN1zRVWsF6Z6msNFSvoIyrJHWq_5vus8H65piqTQXlc1bYa3eTBIJSRmVRfL789oU_ReULGXNcTc89pTI5e-5g-Tz5J1c6dB_KElYBHgLg/s1600/17.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653471385326082" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1r2IAqwOn5Ikz9z9y07RAFI_GVUDNO95veN1zRVWsF6Z6msNFSvoIyrJHWq_5vus8H65piqTQXlc1bYa3eTBIJSRmVRfL789oU_ReULGXNcTc89pTI5e-5g-Tz5J1c6dB_KElYBHgLg/s400/17.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >“Hi all, I'm a friend of Alex's post undergrad era. According to gmail, I've known him since at least 7/26/2004. In those 6 years, I'd say Alex was one of my closest friends who also understood me the best. In our discussions among friends, he'd be the only one who grasps where I was coming from and could explain it to others (although he wouldn't necessarily agree with me). Hopefully I'm channeling some of him today.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Looking through our chats and e-mails, I've clearly gotten more out of our friendship than he did. He's given me so much advice on getting my degree, and has provided a good butt kicking at times when I'm procrastinating. Showing me that one person can and should try to impact the world (cosmos, science bus, etc.). A former labmate e-mailed me last night, and she said.. onething she remembered about Alex was that he would bring us Jack In theBox at night when we were working late, even though Alex was not in this class.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">What did I bring to him? I got him to watch shows like Glee, America's Best Dance Crew, and So You Think You Can Dance. Quality American television. Believe it or not, he's even telephoned in votes for that show. As usual, we would disagree on who was the strongest dancer.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I do want to tell him he's wrong about one thing. He would occasionally say that he was jealous of the number of friends that I have. I hope he's here today seeing this. I should be the one jealous of him. The number of you, the intensity of everyone's love for him, and, as cliche as it sounds, the fact that we all are better people just for knowing him. I really hope he can see this. I love you Alex, I'll miss you.”</span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Allen also read </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="https://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AeftnAo5aqPBZGc1ZGNraHJfMGNyNHo1d2R3&hl=en" target="new">a message prepared by Winston Hsieh</a></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >, an award-winning historian and biographer, who is a cousin of Alex's mother. The message outlined the impressive family line that Alex was born in to. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">** ** **</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Several other friends then got up to speak..</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9R-LB5jmAiKXv8Ipk-LeQitSXyQYUwa5iuu4qkILYOunjtpmlYqcSCl_HDrpLxaDDsoO6nd54UPOLgvMPcM9S1nkNphjJI224PL0hOVUCDQLn0hQffht3eUJXEzuEjtnhNX9DZ2to-Vk/s1600/20.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653677682673170" style="width: 150px; cursor: pointer; height: 224px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9R-LB5jmAiKXv8Ipk-LeQitSXyQYUwa5iuu4qkILYOunjtpmlYqcSCl_HDrpLxaDDsoO6nd54UPOLgvMPcM9S1nkNphjJI224PL0hOVUCDQLn0hQffht3eUJXEzuEjtnhNX9DZ2to-Vk/s400/20.jpg" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXZsHBM8lQvt_tSo6T2mcI5SennqwA9O-EBO8kjpevZfMsazx0YbDHALIjwwPe3mCUyQl62Yu9oChlrxNHPkJXDyF_mMJuMQAmAFwcTpMN-mythMPPc9MA62gYnT1_OWbLss-NI_Fkw4s/s1600/19.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653672832626178" style="width: 150px; cursor: pointer; height: 225px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXZsHBM8lQvt_tSo6T2mcI5SennqwA9O-EBO8kjpevZfMsazx0YbDHALIjwwPe3mCUyQl62Yu9oChlrxNHPkJXDyF_mMJuMQAmAFwcTpMN-mythMPPc9MA62gYnT1_OWbLss-NI_Fkw4s/s400/19.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMC4h8b13toxU8gWm1SLYGP0KWffh14kHUGsk3b03JxSDUXc_vg6jEdSFn7R57VpZPFdGZZYaNEHcGK1GN63wkM1sVvOkeRWuhH8jP3TZH7FDtZxqIhH1t8qO0hf93EMp3Oz7hIQy5aVE/s1600/18.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653480323125026" style="width: 149px; cursor: pointer; height: 223px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMC4h8b13toxU8gWm1SLYGP0KWffh14kHUGsk3b03JxSDUXc_vg6jEdSFn7R57VpZPFdGZZYaNEHcGK1GN63wkM1sVvOkeRWuhH8jP3TZH7FDtZxqIhH1t8qO0hf93EMp3Oz7hIQy5aVE/s400/18.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Finally Alex's sister Julia and mom gave heartfelt thank you's</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhndornJnH-5IcHAyXDkkuSHbHal5GAnIGhrzEa1TX_433lxIiOGAUB_8fC8yVno8A-eJ66iEC2mObHOMxU99dvEH6-96iu3nR-G_S2Gtq1JdBp0PbO59gm4ff_Xx9qX4NWI6iLyz6ZSMA/s1600/22.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653689024465330" style="width: 260px; cursor: pointer; height: 389px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhndornJnH-5IcHAyXDkkuSHbHal5GAnIGhrzEa1TX_433lxIiOGAUB_8fC8yVno8A-eJ66iEC2mObHOMxU99dvEH6-96iu3nR-G_S2Gtq1JdBp0PbO59gm4ff_Xx9qX4NWI6iLyz6ZSMA/s400/22.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1nv6GK8biZsPcL09MAogaPE-jADKrWkm32FGQpLQbVKQXWa94VyG8-l10J3eu5RJ8kvaK-WigcCS3X1ityPGU3FHlmrH8jitJB7vYEnuuEH3D8cnlo-MlSXeKF864iPMRovsAcC5YeWQ/s1600/21.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653686315254514" style="width: 260px; cursor: pointer; height: 389px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1nv6GK8biZsPcL09MAogaPE-jADKrWkm32FGQpLQbVKQXWa94VyG8-l10J3eu5RJ8kvaK-WigcCS3X1ityPGU3FHlmrH8jitJB7vYEnuuEH3D8cnlo-MlSXeKF864iPMRovsAcC5YeWQ/s400/21.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">It was also mentioned again that Alex was awarded his PhD in EE and that approval has been given to name a laboratory room at Stanford in his memory. The lab houses the new Assistive Technology Laboratory at Stanford (ATLAS) in Building 550, Room 134. Angel then dismissed us, and we retired to my research advisor’s nearby house for some food and to view many of Alex’s photos and writings. We also watched a slideshow of his life, with incorporated comments of remembrances, that Serena so thoughtfully put together.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5moNgbCI8y7YisUeIcsUrGrRmU6Ohu516UPZTW9feVmIlCGbi9kWP65mSqQ1tOzTTUFqXALKhUb90LrQwi6ZDdtdfJjOPwDZIptULqMieMZe3nOlGsEvPuSgVocx08TKQwk9SIGjEwXo/s1600/23.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653699296083858" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5moNgbCI8y7YisUeIcsUrGrRmU6Ohu516UPZTW9feVmIlCGbi9kWP65mSqQ1tOzTTUFqXALKhUb90LrQwi6ZDdtdfJjOPwDZIptULqMieMZe3nOlGsEvPuSgVocx08TKQwk9SIGjEwXo/s400/23.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Alex’s high school and college friends also took the time to make poster collages, showing many highlights of Alex’s life. One such poster below:</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ozbiflBJ5cF9a3Wi5nV7of3GBPWNPU_INTio2zI3sgE_AP-ecMj_9nqec6c_CxxFQM1-SHD5RAFfLctjL5h2ahQrg1CMP4MelqnuU4bGW08Exm2hCZ4FqwNoCEFHnngJoqO6S-2fH6c/s1600/24.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653927818592002" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ozbiflBJ5cF9a3Wi5nV7of3GBPWNPU_INTio2zI3sgE_AP-ecMj_9nqec6c_CxxFQM1-SHD5RAFfLctjL5h2ahQrg1CMP4MelqnuU4bGW08Exm2hCZ4FqwNoCEFHnngJoqO6S-2fH6c/s400/24.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Some people sat alone with their memories of Alex and slowly went through the albums and notes.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMH2mdTHmLQ39vscS95NKd9uI6fzf-oUFgR3DoAFWSy7lV4fMt3r_md2cfvsYkPsCLGL6sfjzjntsSkEzJCQu8MjAKQOapKVKu66-VNzXLb6GSYgaB52saak3Dgfjvnxu4P54R8KuuB4/s1600/25.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653930879596498" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMH2mdTHmLQ39vscS95NKd9uI6fzf-oUFgR3DoAFWSy7lV4fMt3r_md2cfvsYkPsCLGL6sfjzjntsSkEzJCQu8MjAKQOapKVKu66-VNzXLb6GSYgaB52saak3Dgfjvnxu4P54R8KuuB4/s400/25.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Others gathered in small groups, reaching out to those around them for support as they looked into moments of an amazing life.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN90aKr1QJ7ZkVJcU1ioJMFc3Rs2KNWDfY3itsP5rAvUo8Nsys3y7Zl0sCIMLECbxWfBNyaqf2xuvrvIV2iWVf6YxJbA9nfkKiOl0TpDkz-MjDSK4TBuqAwhrjLt8m-2tOn0KZYLN9MrY/s1600/26.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653933463190066" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN90aKr1QJ7ZkVJcU1ioJMFc3Rs2KNWDfY3itsP5rAvUo8Nsys3y7Zl0sCIMLECbxWfBNyaqf2xuvrvIV2iWVf6YxJbA9nfkKiOl0TpDkz-MjDSK4TBuqAwhrjLt8m-2tOn0KZYLN9MrY/s400/26.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >And yes, us climbers did take one more climbing photo…</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSh0oSC9GgNBwgpnRdp5JV-8k192cr2bY070RJheLxEES9e8hzw_ysB4LSk_SEm5ZH1gDqNOBstR95LDRj0fB5cKqCajGi7WQO-sGs0ijnMhAQplhqKMSdXPTKFOLTgsDekTj5n_bZtEM/s1600/27.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653944934252578" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSh0oSC9GgNBwgpnRdp5JV-8k192cr2bY070RJheLxEES9e8hzw_ysB4LSk_SEm5ZH1gDqNOBstR95LDRj0fB5cKqCajGi7WQO-sGs0ijnMhAQplhqKMSdXPTKFOLTgsDekTj5n_bZtEM/s400/27.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The slideshow was definitely the impressive remembrance.</span> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Feel free to <a href="https://docs.google.com/fileview?id=0B6IGER2bZxfzYTQwOTUyNWItOTYwMy00NTI5LWFlMWMtOTI2OWJmNTliMjJh&hl=en" target="new">download the slide show pdf</a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">. Warning: it is a large file.<br /></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYL-93UAEACBJfbQqzcpqzVHd3TB1uCWBysHFzGNbkmvwiiGb5BJpovJ3rpyme9z967okpmcz6g1S1IDosdfr21bzWaHXOIYHONeQVVa8AFWxBfPTZDV4Cht7L636yFJRMc9-Zhvp57wM/s1600/28.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457653947450313650" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYL-93UAEACBJfbQqzcpqzVHd3TB1uCWBysHFzGNbkmvwiiGb5BJpovJ3rpyme9z967okpmcz6g1S1IDosdfr21bzWaHXOIYHONeQVVa8AFWxBfPTZDV4Cht7L636yFJRMc9-Zhvp57wM/s400/28.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >It truly was very impressive, and the writings, very touching. Thank you very much to all those who sent something in.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV-S0HZMC80HGqKhhJ3RyNg-t9OkRL2PO0P2qZKxlccuwjaQGtbMNezmzEB0jKj9-Ij5Df3vOC8aXhI8VeJf-IB9BKtaglpNJ-nr4IqT5fjbT5ntQN8N3sIaF5Fi4KlXovUtlOK6zXaE/s1600/29.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457654153740461826" style="width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV-S0HZMC80HGqKhhJ3RyNg-t9OkRL2PO0P2qZKxlccuwjaQGtbMNezmzEB0jKj9-Ij5Df3vOC8aXhI8VeJf-IB9BKtaglpNJ-nr4IqT5fjbT5ntQN8N3sIaF5Fi4KlXovUtlOK6zXaE/s400/29.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Folks slowly trickled out and went back to their homes as Alex’s mom and sister sat and relaxed. It was a great spot to take a much needed nap.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4soekXkESOeBuOd75sqNSI0PyvIFpOlsdnbpoOUTG3cfqvtDs891j77qqafkHTs35z9IqO1R2k5U4atOddlSy9dW0CaADDpHQzfthsq8jwOPlPY-ru2tB8t9X5lFGfro_QuAFc5rgtY8/s1600/30.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457654166189759650" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 300px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4soekXkESOeBuOd75sqNSI0PyvIFpOlsdnbpoOUTG3cfqvtDs891j77qqafkHTs35z9IqO1R2k5U4atOddlSy9dW0CaADDpHQzfthsq8jwOPlPY-ru2tB8t9X5lFGfro_QuAFc5rgtY8/s400/30.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >The next day we did gather together for a dinner… and though it was a full table, it felt empty without Alex... who just a few days earlier had insisted on eating dinner at the table and not in the hospital bed in his room.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRm9eqC7v1MyMcFEW9Ggb7jfMKv6jRescYm1FepgunlSIuM7pz0Zi3jHYdLwV7LRk24aMcFoiQvJb7QDmsen6g2DOTCUQ9B5msWwnc-zyMAn_tdfXUGI6GdvcCvNRintxEailAQUhtCzA/s1600/31.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457654176389364386" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 300px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRm9eqC7v1MyMcFEW9Ggb7jfMKv6jRescYm1FepgunlSIuM7pz0Zi3jHYdLwV7LRk24aMcFoiQvJb7QDmsen6g2DOTCUQ9B5msWwnc-zyMAn_tdfXUGI6GdvcCvNRintxEailAQUhtCzA/s400/31.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >We also continued the cleaning, and soon had his old room and office packed up</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWcAbhjprZYDZKjhQdRpX5rsgS-KWWPlqIwQfoRawED_tt9G2_CsTxBG9YY2yq_ic-MD2yH-jQw7DeFp0JlDZA8FHu4QU7SndpxZDwaqrVueR6lJSScJ4BE8h9VHLDbpTgi0oFfONNzk/s1600/32.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457654189565723154" style="width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 300px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWcAbhjprZYDZKjhQdRpX5rsgS-KWWPlqIwQfoRawED_tt9G2_CsTxBG9YY2yq_ic-MD2yH-jQw7DeFp0JlDZA8FHu4QU7SndpxZDwaqrVueR6lJSScJ4BE8h9VHLDbpTgi0oFfONNzk/s400/32.JPG" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >I am still going through his hard drives - compiling his photos and documents in one place, and am enjoying all the emotion that he put into what he wrote and his amazing photography skills. He truly was an artist.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And yah… now that the service is over, the cleaning done, and only a few more hard drives to go through… soon I’ll have nothing left to <i>do</i> for Alex… soon I’ll just be going through my days again, back to my normal routine.. staying busy with all the stuff I do… while still wearing my “Live<b>Strong</b>” wristband to honor Alex, and remembering how much I miss my bud.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-6978961630810041752010-04-04T19:51:00.001-07:002012-03-22T08:10:05.680-07:00One Week+ Later<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Hi, this is Julia, Alex’s sister. Those who know me know that I </span><b style="font-family: arial;">never</b><span style="font-family:arial;"> post anything – I call myself a Facebook lurker, someone who enjoys reading what others are doing, but never thinks that anything they’re doing or thinking is worthy of posting.</span><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So this is very unusual for me, to say the least.<o:p></o:p> But these past few weeks have been both heart-wrenching and heart-warming at the same time, and I feel a little obligated to share some thoughts with you (dear reader).<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alex wasn’t just my brother; he was someone I enjoyed as a friend, someone I would have chosen to spend time with even if he wasn’t related to me. And I’ve been stunned and amazed at the number of people he touched, and the outpouring of support my Mom and I have received. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I mean, Alex has almost 350 friends on Facebook. I’m not sure I even know that many people. That’s the heart-warming part, knowing that Alex had connected with so many.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The heart-wrenching part is, of course, missing him. I’m thankful that his passing was relatively fast, as it was so painful to watch him deteriorate. I am even more thankful that his last day was filled with so many visitors, and that he was able to enjoy the time with them all. It really was one of the best days of that last week. But it’s still hard to accept that he’s gone, that there will never be another goofy moment with him.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The memorial service was a week ago today, his passing a week and a half. Seems like such a short time, and yet also so long ago. My Mom & I went to put some flowers down at the bluff today – it was raining & the wind was driving pretty hard.</span><span style=";font-size:100%;" > </span><span style="font-size:100%;">We tucked the flowers into the cypress log by the grassy area. It was a reminder on how fortunate we were to have the stunning weather at the memorial. At this point, they've probably been scattered by the winds, but that's fine, as Mom had wanted to throw them into the ocean but we were thwarted by the weather.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Regarding the memorial, we have to thank so many people for pulling it all together. I know Mom & I would have been overwhelmed if you hadn’t taken over & just planned everything. I also know that I’ll be missing people who either did things in the background or I just plain forgot – forgive me. But I want to thank these people again, hopefully a little more eloquently than what I said at the memorial.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you, Blase, Alan, Janet, Serena, and Gloria for scouting out locations and doing all of the planning for the service.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you, Serena for pulling together the slide show, with loads of assistance from Alan, Blase, Amina, and everyone else who sorted through the boxes & gigabytes of photos. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you, Amina & Sarah, and I’m sure lots of the other high school folks for putting together the posterboards and helping to sort through Alex’s stuff.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you, Jeff & Tom for the music, both at the service & the great playlist at the house afterwards. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you, Mike Ying, Holly, Amina, and whoever else from the college crowd for getting the flowers & pulling together more photos.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you, Mary, for really just being there and happy to help with everything from hauling truckloads to the dump or Goodwill to cleaning.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thanks to all of the speakers at the memorial, both the planned & the impromptu. Angel, Monica, Janet, Jeff & Tom, Mike, David, Dana, Serena, Blase, Ryan, Kevin, Amanda, Amina (hopefully I didn’t miss anyone).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And I just have to thank Blase tremendously again. I thought he was strange at first for coming over <b>all the time</b> – I mean, didn’t he have a life? Why was he coming over everyday at lunch <b>and</b> in the evenings? But, as I said at the memorial, he saw what was coming before we did, and knew how hard it was going to be. And he really helped us through it – and continues to be a great source of strength & solace. Plus he’s a good blogger :-).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thanks everyone. I hope our paths continue to cross. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Julia</span></p> <!--EndFragment--><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><!--EndFragment-->The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-541501806930403012010-03-31T00:46:00.002-07:002012-03-22T08:10:54.787-07:00No more hugs...<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">When I woke up this morning I wanted nothing more in the world than to give Alex a hug. I remember watching Joe hug him before I did, where I gently held his fragile body.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJJz989WBBdjOT_eJ1i6x-LOhgxSS3qmwnjNTsBG4LCxSKfVO7QBOfhXZRUmX2iv2ykGLoYU769BwFWP4Jmau0eWkyMb6HM4jwFBIbSUgVAulPwuG1MzTxpU4kDXPJ5x65jliSIT-9WU/s1600/0.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJJz989WBBdjOT_eJ1i6x-LOhgxSS3qmwnjNTsBG4LCxSKfVO7QBOfhXZRUmX2iv2ykGLoYU769BwFWP4Jmau0eWkyMb6HM4jwFBIbSUgVAulPwuG1MzTxpU4kDXPJ5x65jliSIT-9WU/s320/0.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454701755825145474" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><br />I remember the earlier hugs he gave me in the hospital bed, and having to negotiate between IV and chemo lines.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0DKKbDrbqTc_nP72ie-V0xoKFcAlXZtgehD77ePVHl0kHBjqC5a8W3oIythLYaJ8Xd4HexMgSeCSuZFvGWuvfUPKDEkuc9T-LvG10d-3pv6_-9xpzAscUlsaAQ_niTPOpWi8rWnd-nY/s1600/1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0DKKbDrbqTc_nP72ie-V0xoKFcAlXZtgehD77ePVHl0kHBjqC5a8W3oIythLYaJ8Xd4HexMgSeCSuZFvGWuvfUPKDEkuc9T-LvG10d-3pv6_-9xpzAscUlsaAQ_niTPOpWi8rWnd-nY/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454701763717345762" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><br />I remember the numerous hugs I gave him when he came to my not-so-surprising surprise birthday party which was his first time out after his latest round of chemo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXMMl7YQHrcv2N0xtXF4Dhb7ur1HNaN8IUQxmkJv3LOyDh0RDMzC1geW4bD06DajzFZVH457zE9L_mwa5W8h_NZ0Eep71L-Hfl2_vlXmIo6EfY7gkkjOg4Z3CXJTx7GPfEf64XxyvkjU/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXMMl7YQHrcv2N0xtXF4Dhb7ur1HNaN8IUQxmkJv3LOyDh0RDMzC1geW4bD06DajzFZVH457zE9L_mwa5W8h_NZ0Eep71L-Hfl2_vlXmIo6EfY7gkkjOg4Z3CXJTx7GPfEf64XxyvkjU/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454701767523897794" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><br />I remember hugging him when he came out to take pictures at an outdoor climbing trip when he was too weak to climb.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZwioawfD3EbB6EbkqH2JoM9Nk4OoRTBk9lMOtD-xJmZoMOWN6JbCQKKC6JyeNK1Krjx6jaqxD-AKh-LL_zatQmyldEDS3dg5pYp1m8-55sTpfnsIaTU0L9Ty6sn85R55S7Zt7sKOJNM/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZwioawfD3EbB6EbkqH2JoM9Nk4OoRTBk9lMOtD-xJmZoMOWN6JbCQKKC6JyeNK1Krjx6jaqxD-AKh-LL_zatQmyldEDS3dg5pYp1m8-55sTpfnsIaTU0L9Ty6sn85R55S7Zt7sKOJNM/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454701780226621794" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><br />I remember hugging his tall, lean frame after a climbing trip and thinking how I could shape him into becoming a great climber. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUvvM8OfIkttOWxUAgXDeb6xlRyOwQbYxz33-Kzl34zuP-_uXAkQSJfHYglQPHc8OTAobHzvuSmgN6XvUfJB5kP32YgR3jrR-UhLUxbU9siI9-er2zAdRkiMoY4sbOEn1fycf7wb7yRI/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUvvM8OfIkttOWxUAgXDeb6xlRyOwQbYxz33-Kzl34zuP-_uXAkQSJfHYglQPHc8OTAobHzvuSmgN6XvUfJB5kP32YgR3jrR-UhLUxbU9siI9-er2zAdRkiMoY4sbOEn1fycf7wb7yRI/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454701785025774818" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><br />I remember all these hugs... and that makes the pain of not being able to hug him all the worse. Somehow I managed to get out of bed. I had told my boss I’d be back in today - so I should get up and go. The world didn't stop just because Alex passed. The sun still rose, people all over continued on their hustling and bustling ways and work still piled up. At least it was a rainy day… somehow that made me feel a little better... possibly just better reflected my mood.<br /><br />I trudged through my work day on auto-pilot. No lunch visits to Alex. No rush to wrap things up so I could head over to see him for dinner. Just work... and a friend’s party.<br /><br />Yah, a friend is celebrating her birthday today, but how can I celebrate when I just had a memorial for another friend? But life does move on and I need to enjoy the time I have with these friends … and can do so while still honoring Alex. After all - he was a climbing friend of this person too.<br /><br />Though I did enjoy the party, I was still too emotionally and physically drained to stay too long, so instead I went over to Janet’s place for a little quiet time. That seemed a little more appropriate for tonight.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Wrap Up</span><br /><br />My plan is to gather the rest of the speeches from Sunday (one more to go) and post details about the service. I’ll also post a link to Alex’s pictures, put up any letters/articles he has that should be shared, and then his blog will no longer be updated. It is his blog after all, and if I do continue a blog it should be on my own. Alex’s mom and possibly other individuals also want to post their experiences over the last few weeks to provide a complete picture of our time with Alex (and time without him).<br /><br />Offline I’ll be going through all the stuff of Alex’s that I’ve acquired and will purge my own closets… as well as my filing cabinet of old papers… as well as any chotchkies that are over a year old (or so)… I just want to do what I can to learn from Alex – or, rather, do what he didn’t do – and NOT save everything!<br /><br />At least that’s the plan.<br /><br />But for now I'll just take it one day at a time…<br /><br />And miss a hug that I’ll never have again.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-43504208946189699312010-03-29T23:41:00.002-07:002012-03-22T08:13:04.632-07:00Hope you liked it buddy...<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Please forgive me for the delay in writing – yesterday completely drained me physically and emotionally... today I'm just absolutely fatigued.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As Alex and I became friends, I fully expected to attend a ceremony for him when he was in his 30s - and I did.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I expected tears to be shed, stories to be told, and favorite songs to be played - and there were.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But the tears were tears of sorrow, not joy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The stories were of fond memories but no wishes for an even better future.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The music was a painful remembrance of favorite songs that will never be lip synced by Alex again.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8zmwrDlAdmwB1fQvvOvQ1ZMFCOfe_VZyf9PYeutLItK3dzouysyaDhOn72H29-GkqKaPANkzLBO-jGcD_NrY65c56eGgWr0wW7qp435dun0LC6bqHNIYAk-G1wt4mcQuyu0afbSKTEk/s1600/0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8zmwrDlAdmwB1fQvvOvQ1ZMFCOfe_VZyf9PYeutLItK3dzouysyaDhOn72H29-GkqKaPANkzLBO-jGcD_NrY65c56eGgWr0wW7qp435dun0LC6bqHNIYAk-G1wt4mcQuyu0afbSKTEk/s320/0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313712138851634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />The day though was beautiful. In an area known for cloudy and windy weather, it turned out to be an amazing day. There was a thin overcast that kept the sun at a comfortable brightness. The temperature was in the upper 60s and there was none of the usual high coastal wind. The day was perfect for a gathering of friends and family.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Honestly - the day was a blur. I remember a friend coming over to pick me up... of trying to read my speech through tear blurred eyes, trying to speak with a throat closed tight with sorrow. When we arrived in Half Moon Bay I shifted back into execution mode and began taking charge and setting up the house.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1doOwjSHtU8hWqcmE3u2twhqZ0_VoFq4a37T6RMgGzayJV2CO2dky4AkAUSqHO5pn-93V2Q8xmczftRzzQTfvPJdD1kc4KdbCt2cOuwknFVJOWMtJw6hgiwaVGhN5MQVJb20qtQgUmg/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1doOwjSHtU8hWqcmE3u2twhqZ0_VoFq4a37T6RMgGzayJV2CO2dky4AkAUSqHO5pn-93V2Q8xmczftRzzQTfvPJdD1kc4KdbCt2cOuwknFVJOWMtJw6hgiwaVGhN5MQVJb20qtQgUmg/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313719019360370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />At around 10am on Sunday people started gathering on the ocean bluff in Half Moon Bay under the lightly cloudy skies. After a little flurry of sound system tests and getting the family in to comfortable chairs, the ceremony began.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ERTGG99sgin2h4EDjijkuVwMDHyMrnTRzatoAyvreqiMLM0dxvX49EUkD0BXt9DL1usmqNwfCP60CdUlEWDATs_ettq8p6PopFbd4tIQYY7WAKRkziMUAQrJEO7u5XALsADUviYSWJs/s1600/1b.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ERTGG99sgin2h4EDjijkuVwMDHyMrnTRzatoAyvreqiMLM0dxvX49EUkD0BXt9DL1usmqNwfCP60CdUlEWDATs_ettq8p6PopFbd4tIQYY7WAKRkziMUAQrJEO7u5XALsADUviYSWJs/s320/1b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313725972027650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Alex's undergrad adviser, Angel, officiated the day's events. He started things off and explained the lack of a body. Even in his death, Alex continued to give, and gave his body to science in hopes that the knowledge gained by studying his body will help in preventing someone else from suffering as he had. After that the speakers came up and talked about how they knew Alex and what he taught them.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuVyrGlZHkZRiN74nqoEdWoPPfleem50cWQaEOzQNW3bPlLVsveFCS0b9Knrzw9DdzEpQccXfhN-VkRIuj3B9C3Ys29W48Gv_qLMa05dvVBVW_PLaqBcLZSSQb9ukoUhmhEUENPaCOZFs/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuVyrGlZHkZRiN74nqoEdWoPPfleem50cWQaEOzQNW3bPlLVsveFCS0b9Knrzw9DdzEpQccXfhN-VkRIuj3B9C3Ys29W48Gv_qLMa05dvVBVW_PLaqBcLZSSQb9ukoUhmhEUENPaCOZFs/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313884473562882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />The speakers:</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Monica - Being a cousin she could tell of his early years</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Janet - A friend since the 9th grade</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Jeff & Tom - High school friends who played and sang some of Alex's favorite songs</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mike - Alex's freshman college roommate, who he continued to be great friends with</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">David - Alex's graduate research adviser</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Dana - A friend of Alex's from Cosmos</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Serena - A friend since grad school, but more importantly, his recent girlfriend</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And then me.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I'll post more detailed information about the service, including the speeches, at a later time.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />As my turn approached, my stomach turned, my heart sank and the tears... which had taken a moments pause... began to flow again. I just couldn't believe that my buddy was gone. I JUST saw him... I was just talking with him. Last week this time we were just hanging out... but now he's gone. Anger and sorrow mixed with peace knowing he was no longer in pain as I walked up and took the mic.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Visibly shaking I stood up and tried to calm myself down enough to talk. I wanted them to know the Alex that I knew. I wanted them to be able to hear and understand my words, and try to find some hidden meaning amidst the sobbing that I felt coming. I took a breath. I looked up and I began to talk.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62LLvRzSAHGFuhQe4Eirk7qw2cIVtMBdKgzm31uprFp5JFN_9xBFRzCNQPy65Ifku9y3TqxwAUe-4SbU-vtkfFKTombKkvVrVlp2NTEj9Aujg2Q-q_IztkRRxdvXm_BrDaZsyxlODhoA/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62LLvRzSAHGFuhQe4Eirk7qw2cIVtMBdKgzm31uprFp5JFN_9xBFRzCNQPy65Ifku9y3TqxwAUe-4SbU-vtkfFKTombKkvVrVlp2NTEj9Aujg2Q-q_IztkRRxdvXm_BrDaZsyxlODhoA/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313889025512066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Despite having my speech written, and having had read it through multiple times now, I couldn't tell you what I said. I think it was close to what I had written... but for a time I was (thankfully) on autopilot and just spoke. The one time I did look down at my sheet, I started to tear up and had to pause before continuing. The next thing I can really recall was sitting back down, surrounded by fellow climbers and asking for a much needed group hug<span style="text-decoration: underline;">.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9p7_sRowTMY1R1tsSZlUFMno-z6CKXv0MmuBFkrbp8pHipOlFhBBAiNsygA4oa5OwYBePcncJqPLMUSUcnheEPtzwmsnLdogGKEYZIPE8g3WkiSXdgUERLSysBXYRyL9dPfxsj-Z2aLg/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9p7_sRowTMY1R1tsSZlUFMno-z6CKXv0MmuBFkrbp8pHipOlFhBBAiNsygA4oa5OwYBePcncJqPLMUSUcnheEPtzwmsnLdogGKEYZIPE8g3WkiSXdgUERLSysBXYRyL9dPfxsj-Z2aLg/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313896427647218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />The remainder of the ceremony was others getting up to share their "Alex experience", followed by a social gather at my advisor’s house surrounded by remembrances of Alex - from his photo albums to a slideshow Serena put together of his life and quotes that people have sent in.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeruXanakvEnlgrKJzz9l6_NY3WuOnwV8m83tveTlcdICtDG2FokXP_CiGguD69ieY315A9c-T1Q76LF2ECQ-6shiKvTqn2CB1k7qDEkkiTTAGc3uWZuTV_Grd8xHjfPy-NI74-n8JYA/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeruXanakvEnlgrKJzz9l6_NY3WuOnwV8m83tveTlcdICtDG2FokXP_CiGguD69ieY315A9c-T1Q76LF2ECQ-6shiKvTqn2CB1k7qDEkkiTTAGc3uWZuTV_Grd8xHjfPy-NI74-n8JYA/s320/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313901815188578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Several hours later the guests left, the remainder of the food was put away, and the house was cleaned. Alex's mom and sister sat in the house staring out at the ocean through large windows. It was as we started packing up Alex's memorabilia that his sister Julia could no longer hold back the tears - realizing the day was almost over, Alex's service was done, and she really did have to say goodbye to her little brother.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Alex's mom had slowly rocked herself into a peaceful sleep. There we let her stay for a couple hours before she aroused herself, realizing that this wasn't her house and that it was time to go. As she hugged me she quietly asked "Is he really gone?" The empty consolation that I gave to this mother that out lived her child, who instead of picking out a wedding dress had to pick out funeral attire, I held her tightly and said "No. He's a part of each and every one of us."</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGrwKWgh1cpqLd8Hism_iqsL-wWA9zhSxrZid14d6RzfpbkhFgSIyKdKxeWZ6ENS42zxuf6pc4ttMjcJPpIdSkVi1wTAz9VC0bt3S0VHSDfPKcJ9J_6pnY87j8m_r0hePFbOOZjdW-sY/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGrwKWgh1cpqLd8Hism_iqsL-wWA9zhSxrZid14d6RzfpbkhFgSIyKdKxeWZ6ENS42zxuf6pc4ttMjcJPpIdSkVi1wTAz9VC0bt3S0VHSDfPKcJ9J_6pnY87j8m_r0hePFbOOZjdW-sY/s400/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454313978485396242" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-55236105958470686162010-03-27T21:56:00.002-07:002012-03-22T08:12:47.845-07:00Day Three - The Calm Before the (Tear) Storm<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Today was a day of checking items off the list. We’ve done so much these last couple days – it’s odd to be able to take a breath and relax for a moment. There’s still the occasional moment of trying to hold back tears, but for the most part we just feel… exhausted. Numb about the event we are about to hold, and exhausted for all of the work we’ve been doing.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Whiteboard – check!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaqNcc5U6aPnNauq4Kum02Qf6IPi1RHEzVmuTueVGqey-w1aDUHw7lWOuOeyYvACt3ojvVaNcR7iyqTht_8UUnQQAk7y2tJFTLwll-JHeYK4yWjp5vJIQGRzDt6_dNgV8SfOQRKN1r-o/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaqNcc5U6aPnNauq4Kum02Qf6IPi1RHEzVmuTueVGqey-w1aDUHw7lWOuOeyYvACt3ojvVaNcR7iyqTht_8UUnQQAk7y2tJFTLwll-JHeYK4yWjp5vJIQGRzDt6_dNgV8SfOQRKN1r-o/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453545376660219266" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />More picture boards…</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAC_pvl3LMlxQlZ0Jpych7kIqsONA3DZI1HJiteHceUhHoiDgAdFsYXmgCVkiwDzkZEOc1stMsVPMJ8Sn9CJQtKJOdiWLLQfhvT43p8LrCYVZdpr2FztOIu-P9xlr4bOXcNrxovvihWp0/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAC_pvl3LMlxQlZ0Jpych7kIqsONA3DZI1HJiteHceUhHoiDgAdFsYXmgCVkiwDzkZEOc1stMsVPMJ8Sn9CJQtKJOdiWLLQfhvT43p8LrCYVZdpr2FztOIu-P9xlr4bOXcNrxovvihWp0/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453545641411486626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />He had an incredible amount of photos… full of smiles, good memories and interesting hair styles.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Now I need to try to finish up my speech for tomorrow. I know what I want to say… but I don’t know if I’ll be able to utter a single word. It’s still just so unreal.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />This just sucks. My heart is still broken; my emotional well is just empty… I’m tired of working, I’m tired of crying… but I don’t want it to end. A part of me feels that tomorrow will make it “real”. That it’s a ceremony to signify a finishing point….</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Alex will always be with me. He helped me to be a better person and I will always cherish the time we spent together, and regret not being able to make more.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />I can’t wait for tomorrow to be over… but I don’t want it to come.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Hope you like it Alex.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />-Blase</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-17241408178830867832010-03-27T12:17:00.003-07:002012-03-22T08:12:34.157-07:00Updated Memorial Service Information<span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >The service will be held <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&q=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.259599,75.234375&ie=UTF8&cd=1&geocode=FemFOwIdHaez-A&split=0&hq=&hnear=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&ll=37.449122,-122.443603&spn=0.004191,0.009184&t=h&z=17">on an ocean bluff</a> about ½ mile south (looking at the ocean – it’s to the left) of the parking lot. Please wear warm casual clothing and shoes suitable for dirt trails. Bring blankets or low chairs to sit on. Parking is limited, so please carpool. </span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style="">Directions from the Parking Lot to the Service<o:p></o:p></b><br /></span></p><ul style="font-family:arial;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Park in the parking lot at <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&q=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.259599,75.234375&ie=UTF8&cd=1&geocode=FemFOwIdHaez-A&split=0&hq=&hnear=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&ll=37.455783,-122.444322&spn=0.00419,0.009184&z=17&iwloc=A">100 Popular St, Half Moon Bay, CA</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Go to the paved path and, looking at the ocean, take a left and head towards a line of trees</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Continue as the path bends to the left (away from the ocean) and then to the right, and you will cross over a wooden bridge in the line of trees</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">The path is now a dirt path and is heading back to the ocean</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">At this point you should see a group of people gathering <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&q=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.259599,75.234375&ie=UTF8&cd=1&geocode=FemFOwIdHaez-A&split=0&hq=&hnear=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&ll=37.449122,-122.443603&spn=0.004191,0.009184&t=h&z=17">at the ocean bluff</a></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">There should be people and signs to direct you to the correct location.<br /></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style="">After the Service<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Please join us at <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=217+Central+Half+Moon+Bay,+California+94019&sll=37.461131,-122.441704&sspn=0.00838,0.018368&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=217+Central+Ave,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&ll=37.46108,-122.441704&sp">217 Central Ave</a> for light refreshments and to enjoy remembrances of Alex</span><span style="font-size:100%;">. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">There is limited street parking at the house, so please walk if possible (1/2 mile). Please remember to remove your shoes when you enter the house.<br /></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Suggested Charities</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">In lieu of flowers/gifts, please make a donation in honor of Alex to one of the charities below, or to any charity that reminds you of him. Also, please check if your company has a gift matching program.<br /></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Beat Sarcoma:</span></p><ul style="font-family:arial;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Goal: Targets unfunded high priority and high impact sarcoma-specific research</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://beatsarcoma.org/GiftforLifeWithoutSarcoma.html">http://beatsarcoma.org/GiftforLifeWithoutSarcoma.html</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Donating from the JustGive link reduces the overhead cost</span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Contact information for personal messages - alextung.memorial@gmail.com<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Tax ID: 26-0852086</span></li></ul><p style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Cosmos Education:</span></p> <ul type="DISC" style="font-family:arial;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;">Goal: Improving science education in developing countries</span> </li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.cosmoseducation.org/people/ceus/alextung_obituary.shtml" target="_blank">http://www.cosmoseducation.<wbr>org/people/ceus/alextung_<wbr>obituary.shtml</a></span></li></ul><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span></p>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-47285011887451955172010-03-26T22:15:00.002-07:002012-03-21T20:26:13.860-07:00Day Two - Too Busy to Mourn<font size="2"><font face="arial"></font><o:p style="font-family: arial;"></o:p></font><font size="2">It’s incredible how much stuff needs to be done in order to take time to say goodbye…</font> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Calling and checking out sites to pick a location.</font><font style=";" size="2"> </font><font size="2">This included “breaking in” to one (done), someone to officiate the service (done), figuring out how to set up a donation site (almost done), figuring out what we need for the service (basically done), and getting all the needed equipment (done), ordering food (oops), shredding receipts – some so old that the ink had long since given up the account information it held (still going), remembering that we need to eat too, cleaning (still going…), getting flowers, pulling together quotes (still going), and responding to emails – thank you so much for all the words of encouragement; I cannot express how much it has helped throughout this terrible time – selecting music (kinda done), getting friends to help (done), picking up friends at the airport (many more to go), etc, etc, etc…</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">There is just so much to do… which… in a way has been therapeutic.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">At least I feel like I’m helping him… even if he is already gone.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">We’ve been laughing plenty over stupid things as our exhaustion sets in… or after finding random / interesting things… and, of course, the tears continue to flow as we read emails from friends, find something that reminds us of a special time with him, or just because we miss him.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">The outpouring of love, amazing stories, comments of support and sadness has just been phenomenal.</font><font style=";" size="2"> </font><font size="2">Speaking on behalf of all of us planning the service, we thank you from the depths of our heart. It’s been amazing to see how much impact one person can have. From messages that were sent by college & grad school friends here at Stanford, to letters of love from Africa – Alex, in his all too short of a life, still had a global impact.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">So again, Thank you.<br />Thank you, thank you, thank you.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Now for some pics….</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">How we’ve been spending the last couple days….</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUNB060M99wm7RP4GHc0mYhMIsR7Lj_GE0DCpk13cheoMmTvu6FptVXBgF4NdXY3AJUeIyxFH30kaZ4gu7NJ7Cyk_liCUwYYgB1GNiKfGvyasOc1TZuFqbAmOHEsB_VfHKQ9u0_Mjf2c/s1600/1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUNB060M99wm7RP4GHc0mYhMIsR7Lj_GE0DCpk13cheoMmTvu6FptVXBgF4NdXY3AJUeIyxFH30kaZ4gu7NJ7Cyk_liCUwYYgB1GNiKfGvyasOc1TZuFqbAmOHEsB_VfHKQ9u0_Mjf2c/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453178512113984130" border="0"></a></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">No idea how they did it before computers.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Our whiteboard – trying to organize our thoughts.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNvzZwtLfs2ZqZQIB_sH7kXY_sKb1lgDjsV0RMBCAw4BIgzHIoieT78_WxxVCoazrkTumMyd4jm3gu9avUwUBA-XZ0iu9NVWJ5Do052YS8_EpQUvSY-1JTC_30kwDsS5noj5yuGXft0w/s1600/2.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNvzZwtLfs2ZqZQIB_sH7kXY_sKb1lgDjsV0RMBCAw4BIgzHIoieT78_WxxVCoazrkTumMyd4jm3gu9avUwUBA-XZ0iu9NVWJ5Do052YS8_EpQUvSY-1JTC_30kwDsS5noj5yuGXft0w/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453178520143182674" border="0"></a></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Checking out a place…</font><font style=";" size="2"> </font><font size="2">No fence can keep Janet out</font><font style=";" size="2"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_3" spid="_x0000_i1027" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:447.75pt;"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\biuliano\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image005.jpg" title="DSC_0048"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><br /></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhel6tcORZKpFinQPXBLJ15LWoFT1FtM6T4Iqk62luFlSGp6JQFPE5TNFHUPKFAm5cjTdLrpQfzKAg29BcXUlEMlTncPAM_DVJQp1b0clnn0x6xGcga4pcEzlC7phsH21-S7IO5N3mutOo/s1600/3.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhel6tcORZKpFinQPXBLJ15LWoFT1FtM6T4Iqk62luFlSGp6JQFPE5TNFHUPKFAm5cjTdLrpQfzKAg29BcXUlEMlTncPAM_DVJQp1b0clnn0x6xGcga4pcEzlC7phsH21-S7IO5N3mutOo/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453178526705068482" border="0"></a></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Receipts so old the ink had completely worn away!</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CQ8TA3KfuRKTJoVtg_ameQmzGeqWtP0Y99j5_1rnzRkfT7wu0Eu4i4DpncklWwx3_MltziYQKCfNrnfNr76QNz_Qj0RKFDhsJqiFv2n44_Eg2wrrXKQyAcLs1yL74p638UJhJJ2_oaQ/s1600/4.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CQ8TA3KfuRKTJoVtg_ameQmzGeqWtP0Y99j5_1rnzRkfT7wu0Eu4i4DpncklWwx3_MltziYQKCfNrnfNr76QNz_Qj0RKFDhsJqiFv2n44_Eg2wrrXKQyAcLs1yL74p638UJhJJ2_oaQ/s320/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453178537019351634" border="0"></a></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">**Notice the handlebars…</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Speaking of handlebars… they do work! </font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ajq2yD0GdKsfzrimfK0qKz4YSa5f_gnkvb16NxZOGNZucTe5NPhThyJ2_eEi0oX73s8ZPC6ZlAggk9n9lSzYJ3Irq5e86UOmkvD-8O3GQCZsDnL_6iAWpUv5107Ok_uXKS-1DBp5omc/s1600/5.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ajq2yD0GdKsfzrimfK0qKz4YSa5f_gnkvb16NxZOGNZucTe5NPhThyJ2_eEi0oX73s8ZPC6ZlAggk9n9lSzYJ3Irq5e86UOmkvD-8O3GQCZsDnL_6iAWpUv5107Ok_uXKS-1DBp5omc/s320/5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453178543380204690" border="0"></a></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Ok… a brief note on the handlebars…</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">On Wednesday I had a goatee and a major presentation.</font><font style=";" size="2"> </font><font size="2">My plan for the day was to go in to work, have lunch with Alex, go back to work and give the presentation, shave the goatee and show up on Alex’s door with handlebars. The reason: to make Alex smile.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Actually… for the last while… that has been my goal.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">When Alex was diagnosed, I took a page from my mom’s book of how to help those you love… when you really can’t… and made it my goal to make Alex smile each time I visited him.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Often I’d come in with a story of stupidity (which may or may not have really happened)… sometimes I’d come in various costumes or pics of events… and of late – modifying my looks.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">He didn’t care for the beard.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Really didn’t like the goatee. (“You missed a spot” he said.)</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">And I knew he wouldn’t like the handlebars… and not like them to a point of at least smiling. (I could see him just slowly shaking his head while saying “Geeeesh…”).</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">But then Wednesday came…</font><font style=";" size="2"> </font><font size="2">and I never gave the presentation, never shaved, never got to show Alex the handlebars. I still decided to shave it down, feeling that somehow he’s now looking down on me … slowly shaking his head while saying “Geeeesh…”</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Miss you buddy.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><again></again></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><o:p> </o:p></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">But don’t worry Buddy – I’ll shave it off for Sunday.</font></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><font face="arial">----------------------------------------</font><br face="arial"><font face="arial">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</font><br face="arial"><font face="arial">Edited by: Janet Cheng</font></font><br /></p>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-42946836811681157642010-03-25T13:17:00.002-07:002012-03-21T20:26:13.860-07:00Memorial Information for Alex Tung<font style=";" face="arial" size="2">A low-key memorial service will be held for Alex Tung in </font><font style="font-weight: bold;" face="arial" size="2">Half Moon Bay</font><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"> on </font><font style="font-weight: bold;" face="arial" size="2">Sunday March 28th at 11 am</font><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">.<br /><br />All are welcome to attend the event.<br /></font><font style="font-weight: bold;" face="arial" size="2"><br />Parking</font><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"><br /></font><ul><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">Please park in the lot at <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+CA&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=32.335236,79.013672&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=100+Poplar+St,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&ll=37.457018,-122.4412&spn=0.003952,0.009645&z=17&iwloc=A">100 Poplar St, Half Moon Bay</a>. There is also street parking.</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"><font size="2"><font face="arial">Parking is l</font></font>imited so please carpool</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">After parking look for signs indicating where to go</font></li></ul><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"><font style="font-weight: bold;">Attire</font><br /></font><ul><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">Casual attire. Dress how Alex knew you: jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers, and climbing shoes encouraged.</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">Location is chilly and may require a slight hike</font></li></ul><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"><font style="font-weight: bold;">Service Information</font><br /></font><ul><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">There will be time for individuals to say something if desired</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">Bring blankets or low chairs if you'd like</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">After the service, meet at <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=217+Central+St,+Half+Moon+Bay&sll=37.457018,-122.4412&sspn=0.003952,0.009645&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=217+Central+Ave,+Half+Moon+Bay,+San+Mateo,+California+94019&z=16">217 Central St, Half Moon Bay</a> for light food and drink</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">The house is a 15 minute walk away</font></li><li><font style=";" face="arial" size="2">No shoes/sneakers in the house please</font></li></ul><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"><font style="font-weight: bold;">Donations</font><br /></font><font size="2"><font face="arial">In lieu of flowers we will be asking for donations to a charity(ies) to be determined soon (we are looking for one focused on rhabdomyosarcoma research), Cosmos Education or you may donate to a charity of your choice in memory of Alex. </font></font><br /><font style="" face="arial" size="2"><br /></font><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span><font style=";" face="arial" size="2"><br /><br /></font>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-65077811551282658992010-03-25T11:51:00.005-07:002012-03-21T20:26:13.860-07:00Day One<font size="2"><font face="arial">Last night, while trying to provide words of support and comfort, a friend told me “Tomorrow will be a new day.”</font></font> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">My response: “Yes. Tomorrow will be the first day without Alex”.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><b>To catch you up…<u4:p></u4:p></b></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">After the nurse came to put in the morphine pump, Alex remained awake and fitful. He was strong enough to make enough of a fuss about having a condom catheter put on that they just went with the diapers. With pump button in hand we tried to let him rest.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">For the next few hours Julia stayed with him as he continued to move around in bed. Occasionally closing his eyes and looking like he was about to drift off into a peaceful sleep, he’d then open his eyes wide and start reaching and pulling for the side bed rails. This was interspersed with weak fits of coughing. </font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">2am…</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Now he’s trying to get himself out of bed.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Julia is able to stop him and get him to bed, now with the condom catheter on, but we need to keep him in bed. Doing a little ad-hoc engineering we put a large couch cushion next to the bed and wedge it in with a heavy nightstand.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">He continued to be fitful.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">A call to the nurse on call proved unhelpful.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Finally at 3am, with a major presentation looming on me… I had to go and get some sleep. I wished my buddy a good night sleep. Kissing him gently on the forehead. Not realizing it would be the last time I’d see him alive, but being so thankful for having such a great day.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><b>Day Zero</b></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Yesterday morning, while I was sitting in a meeting with the Web IT Director, Julia called. Hoping against hope that it was just about the packing we planned on doing that day, or a lunch request order, I answered and asked what was up.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">She informed me that Alex had just passed.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">The Web IT Director, also a friend, was just asking about Alex and how he was doing. After hearing Julia’s words I was able to get out an “It’s over” and did what I could to hold the tears at bay as I went down to my office. Those were the last words I was able to say for the next ½ hr. In my office my officemate wanted to know what was going on with the status of things. Opening my email account I wrote a simple letter to her and other key coworkers who were followers of Alex’s blog, and knew we were good friends, that Alex’s suffering was finally over.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">With tears streaming down my face, and my co-worker’s comments of “Dear God, I am so sorry” as she put her hands on my shoulders I packed up my belongings to head out.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Now… looking back on it… driving while crying and so emotionally upset is an extremely stupid thing to do. To make it worse, I received a text from my brother, an attorney who helped out with answering some questions about the will the day before, and I actually wrote him back that it was over.… while driving… while crying… Thank God I didn’t get into an accident.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Score one for stupidity.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">At the house, Alex’s door was closed while the nurse was in there preparing his body. I cannot express in words the palpable sorrow that filled the house.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Not enough tears could ever be shed.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Not enough sobs could ever be heard.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Not enough hugs could ever be given to relieve the pain felt at such a loss.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">The rest of the day was a blur of notifying people, and forgetting to notify so many others, people visiting – thank you Alan for bringing food.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">He did look so peaceful...</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">He had this little smirk on his face as if he knew a joke… Like a massive stash of years and years of outdated receipts waiting for us, or more empty film canisters… hidden like Easter eggs throughout his place.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Alex’s mom did though want a “family photo” . Which.. umm.. was a little interesting and added a little levity to a horrible, horrible situation.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Guess you could just say that Alex blinked…</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">The two things I remember most are the wails of his mother and the sights and sounds of his body being wheeled out.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">“He’s still warm. He’s still warm….” She wailed.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Clinging to his body she didn’t want her son, her baby boy, to go.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">When the last person paid their respects, and they took his body, the clanging of the gurney as it was rolled out was mixed in with the deep resounding sounds of the large wind chimes that hung nearby.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">For the rest of the day we organized the medical equipment, collected more and more bottles of pills and medical supplies, trying to find a place to properly dispose of everything and a place for his memorial.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Serena, Janet, Gloria, Alan and I went out to check out a few spots to have his memorial. After a few calls, an attempt to burn out the clutch and several site visits – we finally found a place thanks to my research advisor. Long and emotional day… and feeling weak and weary from tears and heartache, we gathered together and went out to eat and then went to our respective homes to try and get some sleep.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2"><b>Day 1<o:p></o:p></b></font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">We are now back at Alex's old place making final arrangements for his memorial service.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">Please stay posted as we finalize the information.</font></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><font size="2">At a high level it will be held this Sunday, at 11am in Half Moon Bay, CA.</font></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span></p>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-24896217867737922052010-03-24T01:08:00.004-07:002012-03-21T20:24:46.150-07:00Transitions...<div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hey Alex-fans!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So my name is Blase and I’ll be updating Alex’s blog on his behalf with the help of others. Please bear with me as this is my first time blogging.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I’m a friend of Alex’s and have truly enjoyed our growing friendship over the years. He’s an amazing fellow – friendly, caring, smart… could work on his climbing footwork… but otherwise an all-around great guy. I met Alex when I taught the Strength & Conditioning rock climbing classes at Stanford University and we continued to be friends afterwards. Working for Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital (and having an understanding boss) has afforded me the ability to be near him throughout all of his treatments. My previous experiences of having a grandmother who passed due to cancer and a sister who just won her 4</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> battle with it, has helped me to have an understanding of what to expect next… not that it made it any easier.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So… now for the hard part.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Monday March 15</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the doctors decided it was best to stop the chemo and Alex was given weeks to live.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He’s done a valiant job fighting off the cancer over the last – almost 3 years now (6/2007) – and has come through some rough surgeries and hard times. But now it’s time to just make him comfortable and prepare for his departure from this world.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">At a high level…</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Since then I’ve seen him slip away – watched as he went from being able to move and feed himself on his own to requiring help with everything he does. Mentally he’s gone from making wisecracks to having a hard time processing simple questions. Some of this is may be the drugs, some his condition.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">… I’m losing my buddy… and it really sucks.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Despite this – over the past week we have had some excellent visits and we’ve made excellent progress on preparing for end.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The week in review…</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Alex Tung, PhD.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Serena has been doing an amazing job working on pulling together his thesis. His committee has agreed to review it and will be awarding him a PhD shortly! Thanks also to Serene and Ray for running around and getting signatures. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sunday</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, Serena made delicious tonkatsu:</span></span></p></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilE92CfaHmJI9hyphenhyphen8R3NUEo0GNBkVNAJVQDQNKA7kejU_Jgs7iYxpHRQOhEZs475cNwuVWZqndNMlUlc3IbhZr7DxgFTBwmiULDb6fs7gwj7T7F3FqeoU8WC1cNyrog1MD6NtWXb6UgDO0/s1600/1_tonkatsu.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilE92CfaHmJI9hyphenhyphen8R3NUEo0GNBkVNAJVQDQNKA7kejU_Jgs7iYxpHRQOhEZs475cNwuVWZqndNMlUlc3IbhZr7DxgFTBwmiULDb6fs7gwj7T7F3FqeoU8WC1cNyrog1MD6NtWXb6UgDO0/s320/1_tonkatsu.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452114736803595378" border="0" /></span></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilE92CfaHmJI9hyphenhyphen8R3NUEo0GNBkVNAJVQDQNKA7kejU_Jgs7iYxpHRQOhEZs475cNwuVWZqndNMlUlc3IbhZr7DxgFTBwmiULDb6fs7gwj7T7F3FqeoU8WC1cNyrog1MD6NtWXb6UgDO0/s1600/1_tonkatsu.JPG"></a> </span></span><!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Alan then labored away in the kitchen to bake us some yummy sugar cookies. We did a comparison of square versus round cookie dough, which does actually yield slightly different results.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5DDyXptQuMe2OZHFXm7T_1aFx3ZA67DKjWtIge23g26iQ1Qyen5BWAgJ1tdiviDjL0f1dW6cdtJF2nwzULf9U_CFgQbyXpYLZo2GVVzMiuAv9QN2hZMCFFAek4uOyDd3w5bV7k-twHU/s1600/2_cookies.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5DDyXptQuMe2OZHFXm7T_1aFx3ZA67DKjWtIge23g26iQ1Qyen5BWAgJ1tdiviDjL0f1dW6cdtJF2nwzULf9U_CFgQbyXpYLZo2GVVzMiuAv9QN2hZMCFFAek4uOyDd3w5bV7k-twHU/s320/2_cookies.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452114746908561922" border="0" /></span></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Tuesday</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, Mary and Brooke came over for lunch and brought a feast of home cooked food.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div> <!--EndFragment--> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNRArUSXwaM971CGBWjujpnAS40umBwDvIW8l-ZlETGh2GONMmMuwQ9t6QCVdYZdh303ryJIFUeT4_l0dz8B0KGH7Dyw8eaDmlavMAyAqBODYKWOK-wUXhVvKSzISCOWHhGEXgml4irY/s1600/3_lunchFeast.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNRArUSXwaM971CGBWjujpnAS40umBwDvIW8l-ZlETGh2GONMmMuwQ9t6QCVdYZdh303ryJIFUeT4_l0dz8B0KGH7Dyw8eaDmlavMAyAqBODYKWOK-wUXhVvKSzISCOWHhGEXgml4irY/s320/3_lunchFeast.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452114756203672930" border="0" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jFJk9ILw680FSQCLqk-kTUb-U7fCHyTOmuYI-oDi-BdEI7NIlYApmtN_kbHnYyVMg39oCscthk6hyv53HgZMgww_TjSJkgXyZo2m8PexLPzR15LowHo_oy3fjvk2g1TjgvT24G4iiSs/s1600/4_lunchThai.JPG"></a></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">For lunch on </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thursday</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, Mary, Linus, and I came by with Thai food.</span></span></span><!--EndFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jFJk9ILw680FSQCLqk-kTUb-U7fCHyTOmuYI-oDi-BdEI7NIlYApmtN_kbHnYyVMg39oCscthk6hyv53HgZMgww_TjSJkgXyZo2m8PexLPzR15LowHo_oy3fjvk2g1TjgvT24G4iiSs/s1600/4_lunchThai.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jFJk9ILw680FSQCLqk-kTUb-U7fCHyTOmuYI-oDi-BdEI7NIlYApmtN_kbHnYyVMg39oCscthk6hyv53HgZMgww_TjSJkgXyZo2m8PexLPzR15LowHo_oy3fjvk2g1TjgvT24G4iiSs/s320/4_lunchThai.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452114761840904626" border="0" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTG2eYQV_0WPr4fdf9ZVLzFYkgYLTmOSy5JbCJSPvVdJ-miM0LuZOMHSqgy4FrQID2D5EDsp3TORamUGLajRtWl7ImR7GGHn_AMrTowoQXJnsjDfdiB6WL4YwtWUe1WtMsyqeqW5fQxy0/s1600/5_combined.jpg"></a></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Channeling our inner Clint Eastwood.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTG2eYQV_0WPr4fdf9ZVLzFYkgYLTmOSy5JbCJSPvVdJ-miM0LuZOMHSqgy4FrQID2D5EDsp3TORamUGLajRtWl7ImR7GGHn_AMrTowoQXJnsjDfdiB6WL4YwtWUe1WtMsyqeqW5fQxy0/s1600/5_combined.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTG2eYQV_0WPr4fdf9ZVLzFYkgYLTmOSy5JbCJSPvVdJ-miM0LuZOMHSqgy4FrQID2D5EDsp3TORamUGLajRtWl7ImR7GGHn_AMrTowoQXJnsjDfdiB6WL4YwtWUe1WtMsyqeqW5fQxy0/s320/5_combined.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452114776557332146" border="0" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span><!--StartFragment--><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Friday was L&L Hawaiian BBQ with John and Serena</span></span></span><!--EndFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4wen6_HDR9VFBfYhtPVCcaPUw4EL_K4uYC648xBlyeKgvCFCx734hS6JkR3cvPTMfyLV_FfuEsiLLFVwsQ3R8vdl6aldY1XB-lVGZQTF9vLcBXu1bRMwoLQSNq1KT_0wmne_D3zT-WXs/s1600/6_lunchJon.JPG"></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4wen6_HDR9VFBfYhtPVCcaPUw4EL_K4uYC648xBlyeKgvCFCx734hS6JkR3cvPTMfyLV_FfuEsiLLFVwsQ3R8vdl6aldY1XB-lVGZQTF9vLcBXu1bRMwoLQSNq1KT_0wmne_D3zT-WXs/s1600/6_lunchJon.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4wen6_HDR9VFBfYhtPVCcaPUw4EL_K4uYC648xBlyeKgvCFCx734hS6JkR3cvPTMfyLV_FfuEsiLLFVwsQ3R8vdl6aldY1XB-lVGZQTF9vLcBXu1bRMwoLQSNq1KT_0wmne_D3zT-WXs/s320/6_lunchJon.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452115920095848978" border="0" /></a></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Saturday we were able to get out and go for a walk at Crystal Springs Reservoir with Serena and Yves.</span></span></p></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPtY0awE7qInKzEnQAtn94P9-EoERvKt3zF4MdSa-_NgNIDe-tzOkbv0DhLnhNBy0LxrmEc3nyd4eAGXTj8jp5TY8YBpy5sR0o9fh-byOJNUAXiNQisa8zGjJOTU_3llZcIdA5qcRfe6U/s1600/7_reservoir.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPtY0awE7qInKzEnQAtn94P9-EoERvKt3zF4MdSa-_NgNIDe-tzOkbv0DhLnhNBy0LxrmEc3nyd4eAGXTj8jp5TY8YBpy5sR0o9fh-byOJNUAXiNQisa8zGjJOTU_3llZcIdA5qcRfe6U/s320/7_reservoir.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452115911136593426" border="0" /></a></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">After all this exercise, Alex was pretty much out of it by </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sunday</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. Janet, Serena and I did get out for a brief walk him in his wheelchair and portable oxygen tank, but that was it.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Since Alex mostly slept the day away, Julia and I worked on going through his office stuff. We quickly learned what a packrat he was. Receipts from 2002? Empty packages? Several outdated versions of software? Toilet paper!??!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We categorized the materials as: junk, items needed to complete his thesis, “hold for 3 months and if we don’t open – trash”, and keep (photo albums, important mementos, etc).</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">At first it was slow going, but eventually we picked up the pace.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We hated throwing anything out (other than the receipts and empty boxes), but realized that we couldn’t keep it all. We can still keep Alex, but we don’t need to keep all of his stuff.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But yah – it was tough.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was like saying goodbye to him one item at a time.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Monday was worse… but mostly because of all the dust.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">His desk…</span></span></p></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkx9BGzKDiWmANLhYe3CEFjrFgwBBaiZLm-PqTA8CrKlZD4Gi21tq4ggXjGK5jDe7JIusnyrFWooKwtBeVDSKxgs7xG59vazPW_BxqcY3LwcxF49Ajmvt5GlCbiswZn-RanpLbD6GNE8/s1600/8_office.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkx9BGzKDiWmANLhYe3CEFjrFgwBBaiZLm-PqTA8CrKlZD4Gi21tq4ggXjGK5jDe7JIusnyrFWooKwtBeVDSKxgs7xG59vazPW_BxqcY3LwcxF49Ajmvt5GlCbiswZn-RanpLbD6GNE8/s320/8_office.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452115901945545826" border="0" /></span></span></a></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Even after having done a bunch of cleanup…</span></span></p></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9cN0DkVCADm57JwmtA2ZmMKIv8v1_mfo6ja5h3v3cw5ULtE81hhOAenM91F09PfiFOQG1B4iOME1NiDRWBkbMF9gH_Rdbz48j9f512suLl1_7p9flDUpPC7jxe5Fk_7vHf7WAZifZPI/s1600/9_charlieRoom.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9cN0DkVCADm57JwmtA2ZmMKIv8v1_mfo6ja5h3v3cw5ULtE81hhOAenM91F09PfiFOQG1B4iOME1NiDRWBkbMF9gH_Rdbz48j9f512suLl1_7p9flDUpPC7jxe5Fk_7vHf7WAZifZPI/s320/9_charlieRoom.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452115894189515346" border="0" /></span></span></a></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Alex’s former residence – where he still had just way too much crap – hasn’t properly been cleaned since the house was first built! There were cobwebs on the ceiling, a thick layer of dust on his stuff, and even a vine growing into the bathroom. It was an allergy hell… and emotionally much worse than going through his office stuff.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Janet, Julia and I had to take a hard look at things. Just so many pieces of </span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; color:black;" lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">chotchkies, which we were sure meant a lot to him, but their meaning was often times lost on us. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; color:black;" lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Besides the same boxes we used for the office stuff, we also added a box for Serena to review and a “donate in 3 months” box.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; color:black;" lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">God there’s just so much stuff…</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Besides going through all of his hardcopies of stuff, we also began going through his computers (3) and external hard drives (3 that we know of so far). The plan is to convert the computer hard drives into external drives for now and go through them later on. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Honestly… out of all of the things we went through I’d love to hold on to a drive… as each of them are filled with photos and vids he’s taken over the years. It’s just a great way of seeing the world through his eyes.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Now – on to today… </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Where yesterday he was completely out of it, today (Monday) at lunch he was clear and alert enough to make a few smart-alecky comments. I loved it.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Physically though he’s just skin and bones.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I fed him by hand and helped him with all of his transfers.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It really sucked to see how much he degraded… and has been hard to see.. . but yah – mentally he was there… at least at lunch.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In the evening I was back again, and again hand feeding him and having him drink some water from a sponge… but this time, at one time he looked me in the eyes and asked me what my name was.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That hurt.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It’s been a long day of visitors, including his care team, so maybe he was just exhausted.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But yah – having seeing a grandmother fade away due to cancer, and a grandfather due to failure of practically everything – I did expect this to happen… but it doesn’t make it any easier.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I just smiled, told him my name, that I was a friend and kept on feeding him. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I’ll just keep on loving on him.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Timing…</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So.. his care team did meet and determined he was mentally capable of signing his forms, etc and estimated that he has 2 days to 2 weeks left.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Alex didn’t want to know the timing. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Maybe he’s still hoping he’ll get better, but in a brief lucid moment he had last week he told his sister how surprised he was at his decline.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So it’s time to get things ready…</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Preparing…</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Alex wanted his body donated to science so I went to Stanford Med School and made the necessary arrangements for something that’ll happen all too soon.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We also were able to get him to sign his form (will, insurance, etc) … though his once very stylish signature now more resembled scribbles – I did see him sign it and Janet and I stand by as witnesses.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I also went to the Palo Alto Wastewater Treatment center in order to properly dispose of the expired medicines.</span></span></span><!--EndFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9cN0DkVCADm57JwmtA2ZmMKIv8v1_mfo6ja5h3v3cw5ULtE81hhOAenM91F09PfiFOQG1B4iOME1NiDRWBkbMF9gH_Rdbz48j9f512suLl1_7p9flDUpPC7jxe5Fk_7vHf7WAZifZPI/s1600/9_charlieRoom.JPG"></a><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1gagta83fXGrzg4H5VFqiVLns4NfnarQVxYrv_9brQxqxH7u5S_GVXjXj68Z24U7OWaHiZMHzAIHvlZWo7HEgKfSp0-Jqd6PMMZg2M3SuRQGhtzVsW3-mnV9yg4mDbo6TZ7956kEQTw/s1600/10_meds.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1gagta83fXGrzg4H5VFqiVLns4NfnarQVxYrv_9brQxqxH7u5S_GVXjXj68Z24U7OWaHiZMHzAIHvlZWo7HEgKfSp0-Jqd6PMMZg2M3SuRQGhtzVsW3-mnV9yg4mDbo6TZ7956kEQTw/s320/10_meds.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452115883248381218" border="0" /></span></span></a></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ending the day strong…</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Joe and Christina stopped by for a visit, and Alex insisted on getting out of his room (“I’ve been trapped in my room all day”) and eating at the dinner table.</span></span></span><!--EndFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1gagta83fXGrzg4H5VFqiVLns4NfnarQVxYrv_9brQxqxH7u5S_GVXjXj68Z24U7OWaHiZMHzAIHvlZWo7HEgKfSp0-Jqd6PMMZg2M3SuRQGhtzVsW3-mnV9yg4mDbo6TZ7956kEQTw/s1600/10_meds.JPG"></a><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml_UwgiFXRqMJeR8RicSRn9K8WZShHalLsXgqlZZNqiY1dZKluubMD1EfJtiCy3uvOtXQd3K7boE2-oRgGvb3WeQYBscb-aK029On2ztR1b7_rSLWCFzmAaGMhwEQSppbGaNSg877rQM/s1600/11_dinnerJoeChristina.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml_UwgiFXRqMJeR8RicSRn9K8WZShHalLsXgqlZZNqiY1dZKluubMD1EfJtiCy3uvOtXQd3K7boE2-oRgGvb3WeQYBscb-aK029On2ztR1b7_rSLWCFzmAaGMhwEQSppbGaNSg877rQM/s320/11_dinnerJoeChristina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452116561716143906" border="0" /></span></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was great to see him up and about. Christina did a great job helping out and assisting him with eating.</span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The nurse did come back again late in the evening to attach the morphine pump to his port. Hopefully that’ll help with the pain and ease with the final transition.</span></span></p> <span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It sucks to lose such a good guy, and to lose him so fast.</span></span></span><!--EndFragment--> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px;font-size:small;" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;font-size:small;" >More updates tomorrow, but for now, time for sleep...<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">----------------------------------------</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Written by: Blase B. Iuliano</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Edited by: Janet Cheng</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px;font-size:small;" ><br /></span></span></div></div>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-86769282877327629582010-03-07T22:20:00.000-08:002010-03-07T22:25:14.979-08:00Bombshells<span style="font-weight: bold;">(Written last week on Monday) </span> (2/24/10)<br /><br />Well sh*t. I saw my oncologist two days ago and she had bad news about the CT scan from Thursday. Basically there are new lesions (4-5) in the supposedly healthy portion of my liver (i.e. the part they didn't cut out). This section showed nothing last time we checked right before the surgery. So. . . I'm back in the hospital for more chemotherapy. This time it's high-dose ifosfamide, a drug I've had before but apparently works differently in high doses. It will be 7 days here, two weeks off, 7 days here, two weeks off, and then a CT scan to check.<br /><br />How do I feel? FREAKED OUT. This is obviously not the news I wanted. Doc says if we were to sit and do nothing, it'd be 3-4 MONTHS. As usual, I have to take it day by day, but it's starting to feel like my options are running out.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />A week later, a little bit calmer. . . and at home</span><br />(3/6/10)<br />They rushed to admit me to the hospital that day on the 24th but I didn't get that first dose until 2:30am anyway despite being checked in around 4pm. I guess it wasn't really a rush, just kind of urgent to get something going.<br /><br />Still pretty frazzled right now. At the very least I'm at home and not having to be in the hospital. We weren't able to complete the ifos regimen becuase I was having all sorts of crazy side effects - hallucinations, extreme fatigue, twitchiness in my legs and fingers/arms, general loss of motor control in my fingers, and of course the usual nausea sans (thankfully) vomitting. Oh yeah, and I started having pretty high pulse rate but surprisingly normal blood pressure. Plus, the stuff they started giving me to reduce the side effects also started turning my pee and skin a little blue. That's always fun, eh? I think it's finally run through its' course, since my pee is returning to its normal hue.<br /><br />I'm still feeling pretty wrecked, but we'll see what my doctor says about starting up again. We submitted paperwork last week to get another drug approved for compassionate care use (i.e. insurance company won't accept usage but company can)The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-74919129713663251322010-02-21T21:33:00.000-08:002010-02-21T21:33:52.665-08:00At home, a little lighter(2/19/10)<br /><br />Well, I'm back home with a huge gash across my abdomen, but it seems to be healing up and feeling better day by day. I ended up spending about a week in the hospital (2/4-2/11), but most of the stay was uneventful. Unfortunately, I'm still having some mild fevers, but they're not quite as bad as they have been in the past. Nobody seems to know where they're coming from - could be infection, but that's unlikely, since they cultured my blood like crazy in the hospital; could be just post-operative fever, in which case hopefully it'll go away soon; or it could be due to the remaining tumor.<br /><br />The surgery itself went well, although they managed to nick my bile duct or something by accident, so repairing that ended up taking a little longer than expected. Apparently the surgery was trickier than expected. Since the liver tumor's main blood supply had been cut off by the previous embolization, it started seeking other ways of getting blood and latched onto a few places in the inner abdominal wall. It's pretty amazing what these tumors can do to survive. They're insidious. It's baffling why such a thing should exist.<br /><br />The total time in the operating room ended up being around 8 hours. Of course I had no idea about any of that, since I was completely knocked out. Since the surgery ended late, they decided to just keep me on the breathing machine overnight, rather than wake me up that evening. The following morning I woke up with a breathing tube down my throat, a bile drainage tube down my nose, a small drainage tube in my side, and a Foley catheter up my, well, you know. All that and about four to five IV lines in my arms and neck (but definitely no bag of chips).<br /><br />I remember waking up in the ICU to the doctors talking to me, and I was trying to answer but couldn't because of the breathing tube. Definitely a weird feeling to wake up and not be able to talk. I was trying to nod or shake my head, but then I also had some questions, so I signaled for a pen. They gave me something to write on but of course I was so dazed and confused I wasn't really able to write legibly. I think I was trying to ask if taking out the breathing tube would hurt, but I don't think that really came across. In any case, they took it out soon after, and though it didn't hurt, it did feel awfully strange.<br /><br />As it turns out, it feels awfully strange to have any man-made tube pulled out of any natural body tube/orifice. Later that first day, they flossed my sinuses by pulling the bile tube out of my nose (it was running down the back of my throat to my stomach to drain the excess bile). The next day when I got out of the ICU back to a normal post-surgery floor, they took the Foley catheter out, which always provides a nice little burn. The key for any of these is of course to just do it quickly. It's really not that bad - it feels more weird than anything else. When they finally took my drainage tube out about five days into my stay, the 3rd year med student didn't do it very quickly, and that was just a little more excruciating than it should have been. I don't know, I can't really tell if it's actually painful, or just kind of a burning feel, but it's definitely uncomfortable, and you want those things out as quickly as they can be taken out for sure.<br /><br />Besides keeping my pain under control, the main goal in the hospital was to get rid of these stupid fevers. Of course nothing cultured grew anything, so they just gave me a zillion antibiotics, based on what they found from the fluid that my IR doc pulled out of that liver mass a while back. Eventually I think they just gave up. I'm still on antibiotics now, and though the fevers persist, they're not quite as bad as they used to be. I can walk further than I could before without pain, and almost stand up straight, though it still hurts to stretch the stitches too much. I think as I start to be more active my body might fight off these fevers as well (crossing fingers anyway). We'll see. . .<br /><br />So I do have a couple pics from when I was in the hospital. One is of me with all my tubes and IVs, and the other is a photo of my wound. I thought they maybe a bit gruesome, so if you want to see them, <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/tungsten/LiverSurgeryPics2510?authkey=Gv1sRgCMiN39Pmwbid1QE#">click here</a>. Otherwise, you might enjoy this <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/tungsten/July142009VisitWithMonicaAndKids?authkey=Gv1sRgCLK7sI3G1f72xQE#5358354258602952018">silly picture</a> of my niece, Scarlett (actually my second cousin, once removed). Til next time. . .<br /><br /><br />** One last note - a lot of people have been asking me about this liver regeneration thing. It is true that it does regenerate, but it seems there's not a lot of agreement about how long it takes. <a href="http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_does_the_Liver_regenerate">This site</a>, not necessarily scientifically accurate, claims that it will get back to its original pre-surgery mass within a week after a two-thirds removal.<br /><br />I thought this was pretty hard to believe, but <a href="http://www.medicinenet.com/liver_resection/article.htm">MedicineNet</a> says the same thing, one to two weeks. What my surgeons left behind should be healthy liver, so I guess maybe it will grow back pretty quickly. I just got a CT scan yesterday (two weeks post-surgery), so maybe we'll see from that report what things look like.The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-7429526656512802692010-01-27T00:57:00.000-08:002010-01-27T00:58:08.235-08:00New year, new fun(1/25/10)<br /><br />Well, folks, it's 2010, and I have just one question: where's my hovercar? Or really, I'd settle for a hover-skateboard, "Back to the Future" style (Though to be fair, Part II was set in 2015, so I guess science has 5 years to get on that).<br /><br />Anyway. . .<br /><br />I'm still chugging along here, but there are ups and downs as usual. My pelvic lesion has not been bothering me as much, so I've been able to walk around a bit more without using my swanky camouflage cane. The latest CT shows the tumor to be holding steady size-wise, so that's a good sign that the Cyberknife did its job.<br /><br />My liver drainage tube stopped outputting fluid for a while, but then I started having leakage around the entry site instead. It was pretty annoying and gross, as I would have to change the bandages there 3-4 times a day. I started to get pretty good at figuring out which gauze pads worked the best for soaking up the most fluid, though. Finally, last week the IR doc went in and messed around with the tube a bit, injected some blood thinner, and replaced the drain with a bigger tube. He managed to pull out quite a bit of fluid then, and now the tube is outputting a lot more. I was again not fully asleep for the procedure, although I remember less of this one than the previous ones. I do remember that he would call to me every now and then, waking me from a drug-induced stupor, and say, "Hey Alex, want to see what we're pulling out of you?" and he would show me some bits of tissue, explaining that it was probably dead tumor. "Er, that's great. . . " I'd mumble and go back to la-la land.<br /><br />The next day, at the behest of my oncologist, I met with a surgeon about removing the tumor from my liver. Apparently everyone on my medical team has been wanting this guy to do this for a while now, but he's been reluctant because it wouldn't be curative. That is, he could remove the right lobe of the liver, getting all of the active tumor and dead tumor and whatever else is in there out, but I'd still have the lung nodules and pelvic tumor to deal with. Somehow, though, my oncologist has managed to convince him that surgery is the best next step, especially given that the liver is what's causing the bulk of my problems right now (fevers, abdominal pain, drainage tube), which in turn are requiring me to be on a whole host of drugs that make me tired, constipated, etc. In addition, the embolization has cut off the blood supply to the liver, so it's pretty tough for any kind of systemic chemo drug to get there. That's likely why the liver tumor hasn't responded to the sorafenib, while the lung nodules have.<br /><br />So, Feb. 4 is the surgery date - I get to lose yet another piece of my innards, and hang out in the hospital for about a week or so. It'll be a big surgery, but Dr. N (my surgeon) thinks I'll be able to handle it well. They're going to take the whole right lobe out, so I'll have a pretty massive scar across my abdomen (chicks dig the Frankenstein look, right?). Amazingly, the liver should fully regenerate itself within six weeks or so. He says I should be back to 85% in about a month (though 85% of what I'm not exactly sure :P).**<br /><br />As for those pesky lung nodules, they seem to be holding pretty steady right now, but a couple of new small specks have shown up on my most recent chest CT. We're going to keep going with the sorafenib for now, but my doc has another drug lined up that she thinks shows a lot of promise. I guess we'll have to try that one after the surgery and a bit of healing time.<br /><br /><br />** By the way, I think my surgeon has a funny voice, kind of similar to the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JlVqfC8-UI">abominable snowman</a> from Looney Tunes cartoons. It's even better that he has a pretty good sense of humor, too.The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-5249068780537444372009-12-23T18:29:00.000-08:002009-12-23T19:29:32.853-08:00Wahooo!!!<span style="font-weight: bold;">Finally, some good news!</span><br /> (12/23/09)<br /><br />I had a follow-up appointment with my oncologist today, and the chest x-ray showed that my lung nodules have gotten smaller! Woohoo! Finally it seems something is working! We'll get a more thorough CT scan in another four weeks, but for now I'm feeling pretty good about things. My oncologist called me pretty much right after I got home to give me the good news. It's a great early birthday present.<br /><br />As for the other two fronts, I've been able to walk more than before without pain, so I'm hoping that means the pelvic tumor is responding to the radiation. It still gets achy and sore after a few minutes of walking, but it's not nearly as painful as it was before.<br /><br />The liver mass is a bit more of a mystery right now. The catheter is still in place, but it's not draining very much fluid anymore. My oncologist doesn't want to have the interventional radiologists mess with the catheter (i.e. try and reposition it) because the systemic drug I'm taking (Nexavar or sorafenib) can cause bleeding. If we did decide to reposition the catheter I'd have to stop the sorafenib for six days, and I don't want to jinx the streak I'm on right now. So liver-wise, we're holding steady for now. As long as <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span> is draining out I guess it's still a good sign. Though it would be nice to get rid of this tube and bag that I have to carry around everywhere.<br /><br />As for the sorafenib itself, the side effects haven't been too bad, although it's been a bit tough to balance the constipating effects of the pain meds with the whatever-the-opposite-of-constipating-is effects of the sorafenib. A small price to pay for beating down the cancer (woohoo!), I suppose.<br /><br />Okay, that's it for now. I hope everyone out there has a great Christmas/holiday, and here's to a happy, healthy new year!The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-17093162446854248382009-12-10T19:51:00.000-08:002009-12-10T19:52:29.413-08:00War with many fronts(12/10/09)<br /><br />There's no good way to express it. Life in the past few months has been rather shitty. The cancer beast is attacking on many fronts, and I am freaking exhausted. I really don't know how it's come to this, as mid-July found me with a clear PET-CT except for two shrinking lung nodules that had been treated with focused radiation. Then a little lung inflammation instigated a VATS procedure to biopsy my lung, thus pausing chemotherapy. After finally coming home from the hospital from the VATS, pain in my right side revealed a huge liver mass, and further scans showed new lung nodules (left lung) and a lesion on my left pelvic bone. Here's the current battle plan:<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Front 1: Liver<br />Weapon: Radiation spheres and drainage<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>I still have a drain in my liver, but two weeks ago the IR docs shifted its placement and put in a slightly larger catheter to try and drain out more of the fluid. On Monday I found out the mass is finally getting smaller (it's shrunk about 15% in two weeks), but it's hard to say what will ultimately work the best to drain out the rest of the dead tissue in there. We have the option of putting in some anti-clotting agent and yet a bigger drain (the one that's in there is 5mm), but we're not sure if we're going to to that yet. The good news is that it looks like 95% of this tumor is dead from the radio-embolization. Hopefully the rest will go away with chemotherapy.<br /><br />In the meantime, I continue to have fevers, although they're a little better than before. An alternating regimen of Tylenol and ibuprofen seems to keep them at bay, but I still get an occasional temperature spike and sweatiness that makes me feel craptastic and pretty much destroys my appetite.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Front 2: Pelvis<br />Weapon: Cyberknife </span><br /><br />While I was in the hospital a while back I had some pain due to the pelvic lesion but it seemed to come and go. Now it's mostly back, but some days I can walk fairly normally (just not for long distances). Basically the pain is in my left groin and it hurts when I put weight on my left leg. The lesion is partially in the bone and partially in the tissue around it, but luckily, it's not too big to be a target for focused radiation. This is where Cyberknife comes in.<br /><br />Cyberknife is basically a form of very focused radiation that can zap small tumors. I had focused IMRT radiation previously on my lung nodules, but this is slightly different. The Cyberknife uses images in real-time to guide its beam so that it can make adjustments during treatment and therefore be more accurate (supposedly within 0.6 mm). I had my last (5th) treatment on Wednesday, which was relatively painless. You basically just lie on a table for 40 minutes or so while a robotic arm rotates around you and zaps you with radiation. They have a little stereo with iPod dock so you can play your own music during the treatment. On Wed my iPod kept getting stuck on repeat, though, so I was listening to "Bleecker Street" over and over again for the first part of my session. Could have been worse, I suppose.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Front 3: Lung nodules<br />Weapon: Chemotherapy<br /><br /></span>It's a little odd to me that the one problem that's not causing me any physical pain right now may yet be the toughest to tackle. The three nodules in my lungs have not responded to the latest chemotherapy (taxotere and gemcitabine, for those of you keeping track), and so we're moving on to another type of drug, Nexovar (sorafenib), which is anti-angiogenic. Basically this means that instead of trying to kill the cancer cells directly, the drug tries to keep the tumor from growing new blood vessels so that it cannot get any larger. It's had some success in kidney and liver cancers, but using it against sarcoma is pretty experimental. The good news is that it's pill-based, so I can just add it to the list of drugs I'm taking every day rather than have constant trips to the hospital for infusions. The side effects aren't too bad, except that some people get "hand/foot syndrome", where they start to get really dry and flakey on their palms and bottoms of their feet. This can lead to blistering and (I assume) pain, but apparently being diligent with moisturizer can help keep this at bay. Hopefully I just won't have that problem.<br /><br />The drug is systemic, so hopefully it'll have some effect on the bone and liver tumors as well.The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-435103157716348002009-11-10T14:39:00.000-08:002009-11-19T22:24:43.381-08:00Out of the Hospital<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">[Aside: </span></span><span>This blog is way out of date - I'm out of the hospital right now and continuing with treatment, though the drain drama has not quite completed. . . This post was written last week.<span style="font-weight: bold;">]</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></span><br /><br />So the docs came in finally on Friday (11/6/09) and said, "well, we really haven't done anything for you in the past four days, so we're thinking we should send you home with the drain and give it some more time." Well that's comforting. I suppose they were right, but it was a little surprising to get such an anticlimactic end to a two-week hospital stay. Essentially, as I said in the previous post, I had been lying around and waiting for the liver drain output to come down. In the meantime, they would replace my potassium or magnesium as I needed it, but for the most part I guess I didn't really need to be in the hospital anymore.<br /><br />So, I've been hanging out at home again (my sister's) and trying to deal with these continuing fevers. They do seem to be getting better, but at this point it's been 4-5 weeks. I'm pretty ready for them to go away. . .<br /><br />In the meantime, I talked to my oncologist yesterday (11/9/09), and since we're pretty sure the fevers are not being caused by infection, we're going to continue with chemotherapy, with the original regimen of taxotere and gemcitabine (we couldn't use this at first because of possible bad interactions with radiation). Apparently there are actually numbers for these drugs - 40% chance of response in soft-tissue sarcomas. Still not great odds, but better than nothing. Rhabdo is notorious for not responding to chemo, especially the second time around. We do have a number of possible choices, though, so hopefully one of them will work.The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-55092485075060200652009-11-04T11:31:00.000-08:002009-11-10T14:39:31.471-08:00OMG So much hospital time. . .<span style="font-weight: bold;">(Written 11/4/09)<br /><br /></span>Well, I guess I just can't stay out of this place. After two weeks of fevers that weren't going away and weren't getting any better, I'm back in the hospital again. I waited out the weekend and called the clinic on Monday because I spiked up to 102.5 F again on Sunday night despite my mom's best efforts to cool my body with cold packs and wet washcloths. The interventional radiology (IR) folks also called me on Monday and said the CT scan showed a pocket of fluid in the liver that could be an abscess, so they wanted me to come in and have a tube put in the liver to drain out the fluid. Meanwhile, the oncology team wanted me to come in and be admitted to get IV antibiotics, and so began my latest stay at Hotel Stanford.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shaky Shaky </span><br /><br />So Monday night they started dosing me with Zosyn and Vancomycin, and on Tuesday the IR folks went ahead with the drain placement. Again I was awake for the procedure with some happy juice to make me woozy (Fentanyl and Versed). I think they gave me a little more than usual, though, because I don't remember much of what happened. What I do remember is that part way through I started shaking like crazy, and apparently my heart rate shot up to 180 bpm (normal is 60-80ish). Apparently this is pretty common when they put in drainage tubes, because some of whatever's in the pocket you're trying to drain can get out into the bloodstream and cause the body to react badly. I guess the IR doc was concerned about this episode leading to sepsis - I still don't really know what this is, but it seems super bad - so I got to spend the night in the ICU again. This time around wasn't so bad, since my pain wasn't as bad as before, and I actually ended up chatting with the night nurse a bit (If you'll recall, the ICU here has two connected rooms with two beds each, and one nurse per two patients, so there's a lot of attention. But there's a bit of downtime as well, since in this case the other patient couldn't really talk.).<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Waity Waity</span><br /><br />After the one night they moved me back to E Ground, where I continue to wait for things to get better. The drain has been giving more output than the docs originally expected, so they keep waiting for the output to come down. The first couple of days it was outputting almost a liter a day, now it's down to a couple hundred mL, but they'd like to see it down to <20 mL or so. It's mostly frustrating because no one can seem to make a decision about what to do. The IR folks say they could possibly do another procedure, but it's unclear that that would help anything. The surgeons don't want to operate, and the oncologists aren't sure what to do since there's no infection.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-37653002586699783482009-10-25T14:35:00.000-07:002009-10-25T14:36:30.166-07:00Radioactive Man's weekend, etc.(10/25/09)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Workin' for the Weekend (10/10/09)</span><br />I left off after the radio-embolization on Thursday, when I was in extreme pain until the docs and nurses finally figured out a good narcotic regimen to make me nice and drugged (oxycontin + dilaudid = happy). Well there's not a whole lot to tell about the weekend after that. After the embolization, I started having the same fun "post embolization syndrome" symptoms as before: fevers, night sweats, pain, etc. There was a bit of a discussion among the doctors about what to give me to treat the fevers. the two main choices are tylenol and ibuprofen. The problem is that tylenol can have liver toxicity at high doses (not actually that much of a problem for me since my liver function tests had been fairly normal despite all the crap that's been going on in there), and ibuprofen can tend to thin the blood and potentially cause bleeding (not something you want so much after you've just had a procedure to stop internal bleeding). In any case, there was a lot of back and forth on this, and it seems like we've settled that Tylenol is the best bet for now, since my liver function has been fairly stable.<br /><br />Also, I had to keep to the "3 feet for 3 days" rule, which meant because I had radioactive particles in me, I had to stay at least 3 feet away from small children and pregnant women for at least 3 days. Not a tough rule to follow, but I did keep hugs to a 2-minute maximum. . .<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chemo Bemo<br /></span>I finally went home that Sunday, but the fun fevers were not over. More about that in a bit. The real question was what to do next. I had an appointment with Dr. G on Wednesday and she suggested starting another round of chemo as soon as possible. We were originally going to try taxotere and gemcitabine, but since one of them has some toxic interaction with radiation, she suggested taxol (similar to taxotere). The nice thing is that it's just a one day (3-hour) infusion and doesn't have a whole lot of crazy side effects. They just have to give it to you slowly at first to make sure you don't have any allergic reactions. The plan would be to get two doses (every three weeks) and then scan to see how things look. Taxol has a 25% chance of shrinking the tumors. Not great odds, but not terrible either. At some point my luck needs to flip, right?<br /><br />So in any case, I went to get my first Taxol infusion two days later on Friday, about a week after having the right side of my liver essentially killed off for the second time. Sometimes I wonder how I'm still alive at all with all the "treatment" they're giving me, but I'm still kickin'. I had to go in on Saturday to get a dose of Neulasta, which is basically a longer-lasting version of neupogen, to help my white cell counts recover. Luckily, I didn't have too much reaction from the chemo, as far as I could tell. Compared to the pain and fevers and other uncomfortableness, the chemo was actually relatively easy to take. The only major symptoms were that the neulasta shot made my body really achy for a couple of days, and the Taxol is causing neuropathy in my fingers and feet. This basically means I have a constant tingling/numbness sensation in my fingers, toes, and the pads of my feet. It makes typing and walking kind of interesting but it's not unbearable. Hopefully it'll go away after a while.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Riding the fever roller coaster</span><br />Last time it took the fevers about 10 days to go away. This time, well, they still haven't gone away, and it's been about 16 days. Granted, I had a round of chemo shoved in there and this was a radio-embolization as opposed to a temporary gel-foam embolization, and so one might expect a longer recovery. Still, it is not fun to feel like crap for this long. Right now I'm taking Tylenol around the clock to try and keep the fevers down, but they still come regardless. Actually, the IR and oncology docs both are suspicious for infection at this point, so I had blood cultures drawn on Wednesday, and again on Friday. So far the results have been negative. I had a CT scan on Friday to see if maybe there was an abscess (a pocket of infectious fluid) growing in the liver, but they weren't able to tell much from the scan. I did get a dose of IV antibiotics (Zosyn, for those of you keeping track) and I've been on Augmentin since Monday. None of this seems to be doing too much good, although I have been "feeling" slightly better despite the fevers. That is, even though my temp is up, somehow I don't feel quite as crappy as before. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I'll take all the positive feelings I can get, even if they are a bit delusional :P.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-57047216903051402362009-10-08T12:54:00.000-07:002009-10-12T18:23:53.332-07:00Watch Out, Radioactive Man!!(10/12/09)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My work week:<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Monday (10/05/09)<br /></span><br />CT angiogram didn't show anything conclusive in terms of finding the source of the bleed. Nuts. But I was definitely bleeding because my hemoglobin counts kept slowly dropping. I was also having episodes where I would stand for a while and start to feel nauseated and drained, but once I sat down I'd be fine. I imagine this was partly because of dehydration (I wasn't allowed to eat or drink before the angiogram) and partly because of having low blood counts. Since then I've been on constant hydration, which definitely helps. After the angiogram, they still wouldn't let me eat or drink, since they wanted to see the results and potentially do another procedure. It got later and later, and I was pretty sure they weren't going to do anything that night, but still I was ordered NPO (non per ostium = nothing by mouth).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Tuesday</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> (10/06/09)</span><br /><br />I didn't have to do much, though I did get a blood transfusion to boost up my counts. In addition, they scheduled me for a radio-embolization procedure, which is similar to the previous liver embolization procedure I had, but it uses radioactive particles to try to embolize and kill the tumor. Previously they used gel-foam, a clotting agent to cut off the blood supply to the right hepatic artery, which feeds most of the right lobe of the liver. The gel-foam dissolves after 3-4 weeks, however, so it's possible that after it dissolved it just started bleeding again. Hence, my return to the hospital.<br /><br />The radio-embolization procedure is done in two parts on two days. First, they go in with a catheter through the femoral artery in the groin and clot off any arteries that go from the right hepatic artery in the liver to other organs, like the stomach or intestine, so that no particles are delivered there (they can cause nasty ulcers and other badness). Then they inject a radioactive tracer and send you to nuclear imaging to make sure they contained the right areas. The next day, they go in and actually deliver the radioactive particles.<br /><br />Once we figured out that the first part wasn't going to happen today, I was finally allowed to eat. Hallelujah.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wednesday (10/07/09)</span><br /><br />We basically waited all morning for the first part of the procedure to start. Somehow I had forgotten to ask the most basic question of the IR docs: how long would every thing take? So I asked the oncology attending: he said the procedure itself would be about an hour, but prep time and imaging might take longer. The nurse said probably 3 hours for the first interventional part and about 2 hours for the imaging, maybe 6 hours total. They took me out around 11:30am and straight into the IR suite. I'm not sure how much prep there was but I was definitely in there until at least 5pm. I was awake the whole time, though under some sleepiness medication. I could see the screen a little bit as they injected contrast into my liver and lit up all the arteries there. They took a few images first and then started blocking off arteries that feed from the liver to other organs. I'm not sure how many stray arteries they blocked off, but I guess it was quite a few. At the end, they injected the radioactive tracer and sent me to nuclear medicine for some scans. The scans took about an hour, and I didn't get back to my hospital room until 6:30 or 7pm. Turns out the nurse was much closer than the attending, but maybe he was playing the "Price is Right" move of betting $1 so as not to go over.<br /><br />So there was a bit of confusion when I got back. I called my oncologist to let her know I was back in the room and to see if she was still able to come by as she said she would. She called me back and said she had spoken with my previous oncologist (Dr. J, the one who went on sabbatical) and she (Dr. J) suggested doing a right lobe liver resection to just get rid of the mass all together, so that it wouldn't keep bleeding and cause problems while I was getting chemotherapy later. Well then did we still need to do the liver embolization? Or at least, did we need to do it with radioactive particles (the IR docs said that it wouldn't be safe for the surgeon to operate for a least two weeks after the embolization)? Unfortunately we wouldn't get a chance to talk to the surgeon (Let's call him Surg N), since he'd be in surgery (imagine that) all the next day. So, what to do, what to do. . . We talked to the oncology resident who had been following me (Resident V), and he said this was the first he had heard about doing the surgery, so he would go and try and coordinate with everyone to figure out what was going on.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Thursday (10/08/09)</span><br /><br />So in the morning Resident V came by and said the embolization procedure was scheduled for 1:30pm. He said he talked to Dr. G (my onc doc), who had spoken with the IR docs, and everyone seemed to agree it made the most sense to continue with the embolization. The other sticking factor was that the radioactive particles that they were going to use would expire the following day, meaning they had to be used that day. Also, apparently it takes a week to get the particles, so if we were to wait a day, talk to Surg N, only to have him say he couldn't do anything about the bleeding, we'd have to wait another week to get the procedure done.<br /><br />Sometime in the morning a medical student showed up to chat with me. At first I was a little annoyed, because one of the teaching coordinators had come by the previous day and asked if she could have one of the med students come in to practice taking patient histories. I normally would say yes, but this time I was just not in the mood, so I said if they couldn't find someone else then I would do it. Anyway, my initial response of annoyance dissolved immediately when I realized she was a) a 4th year (why would they be sending 4th years to take patient histories?) and b) was there to get my history for Surg N. She said he had specifically asked her to come see me for this purpose. My mom and I told her a few of our concerns, that the embolization might delay the time to do surgery, which in turn would delay the time within which I could get chemo, etc. She reassured us that Surg N had a way of seeming to know what was going on everywhere in the hospital. Specifically, since he obviously knew about my case, he probably knew what steps were being taken, and since he hadn't taken any steps to change the course of action, he probably agreed with the current course. Well, that was at least somewhat reassuring. Later she came back after speaking with Surg N in the OR (operating room) to let us know that yes, he definitely agreed to proceed with the embolization. Furthermore, he had said that he wouldn't do surgery to stop the bleeding anyway, so this seemed like the right course.<br /><br />Meanwhile, the IR docs were working on an emergency procedure that ran late, so I was waiting around as usual and didn't actually leave the room until about 3pm or so (I had been NPO again since midnight). Apparently right after I left, Surg N showed up to talk with me. Doh. Anyway, they carted me down to the same suite and did the same prep: I shifted from my bed to the operating table, they covered me with a sterile sheet, and gave me some happy cocktail to make me slightly sleepy. The IR doc came in and they did things in much the same way, taking some images to start with. Then they delivered the radioactive particles. The doctor showed me the device they used. The particles are kept in this rectangular plexiglass container with two small tubes coming out. One tube gets attached to the catheter that was in my femoral artery, and the other is attached to a syringe with saline in it. Inside the container the tubes lead down into a small vial that contains the particles, so somehow as saline is forced from one side it pushes the particles out the other side and into my liver.<br /><br />Up until this point, the procedure had been pretty painless. After the radioactive particles were injected, though, they still had to stop the bleeding, and that's when they delivered the embolization particles. Now, that was painful. All of a sudden the blood supply to the whole right lobe of my liver was cut off - turns out the body doesn't like that so much. So in the last couple minutes of the procedure I was literally writhing in pain. They gave me some pain meds and then sent me to the recovery room to get my pain under control. The kicker there is that the doctor didn't put in enough orders for meds, so the recovery room nurse just had to keep calling and paging the doctor to write for more medication to get the pain under control. Finally, she got enough to get me back to my room (which was private, now that I was radioactive). They ended up having to switch up some of the orders in my room, too, because the original orders were definitely not enough. That first night was pretty rough as far as pain goes, but finally I got a push of IV dilaudid, and things felt all right in the world.<br /><br /><br />----- OK peeps, I've been trying to write this on and off over the past few days, and I need a break. I feel I need to post this, so I'll have to finish the hospital stay update at a later time. Right now I'm at home (got here Sunday) and am doing okay except for continuing to have fevers and annoying sweats. I have an appointment with Dr. G on Wednesday to figure out next steps. Cancer sucks.The G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328581569100218305.post-71558815924328041832009-10-05T23:45:00.000-07:002009-10-06T00:00:33.326-07:00The good and the bad(10/05/09)<br /><br />Just a quick update tonight. I did finally get the PET-CT today (the floor attending apparently pulled some strings to make that happen - they were going to make me wait til Wed), and the unofficial read is that the liver mass is mostly blood! Yay! Part of the bad news is that the edge of the liver did look brighter on the scan, so it could be tumor. It's also possible that it's just inflammation, but I'm not holding my breath on that. The other part of the bad news is that the official read on the CT scan from Saturday says that there may be a lesion on a bone in my pelvis, something that's new since the last scan. Apparently it looks like it's breaking down the bone there. Nobody's really said much about that, but hopefully the official PET-CT report will have more information.<br /><br />As for next steps, I got a CT angiogram done earlier this evening to try and track down the source of the bleeding in my liver. Apparently my blood counts have been slowly dropping, and so they think there's a slow bleed somewhere there. Unfortunately my doctor friend says angiograms have a tough time localizing the source if the bleed is slow, so it's possible they still won't know whence* it's bleeding. Right now I'm just really thirsty because they haven't let me eat or drink since 4:30pm. It's now almost midnight. They want to see the results of the scan before letting me eat or drink, in the event that something (probably another embolization) needs to be done tonight. Urgh. At least I got them to give me some saline so I'm not completely dehydrated. I am tired though, so dis post ends here.**<br /><br /><br /><br />* "from where" - couldn't resist the chance to use an archaic subordinating conjunction. Yes, I'm a little bit of a grammar freak.<br /><br />** well, except for these footnotes :PThe G-nut Spothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08010452589546778012noreply@blogger.com1