Hans Rueffert

an Italian Thanksgiving...

2011-11-29T11:00:00.001-05:00

I just had to look up the password to my own blog...that's how long it's been since I've made an update! Wow! I had great intentions of keeping some travel notes up on the blog while I was away for a week in Italy, but a poor wi-fi connection and the kitchen duties of a Food & Wine Festival participant somehow prevented that from happening. I know I have some great pictures to share, but for now, here's one of myself and my cousin/chef Tobias (Tobi) in the kitchen at the Valbruna Inn:

Among other things, we were cooking a Thanksgiving themed dinner for a group of Austrians and Italians. The menu included spiced Brussels sprouts, hazelnut-stuffed turkey rouladen, shiitake gravy, mashed sweet potatoes,succotash, cranberry orange relish, ginger-cream pecan pie, and Grandma Grace's cranberry-orange cake. It looked a little like this:

This was all a part of the Ein Prosit festival that takes place each year in and around Tarvisio, but our home base was the small slice of heaven known as Valbruna. For those of you who missed the culinary themed tour to Valbruna last year, we're doing it again May 15-22, 2012 and we'd love to have you join us. I'll post more specifics here soon, but if you're at all interested in joining us, please email Marco soon to make sure you get a slot. We limit the number of guests to a dozen and we already have several signed up. The trip includes daily excursions in Italy, Austria & Slovenia...truly and amazing part of the world.

Italy was terrific, but exhausting. I jumped straight from the Alps to an insanely busy Thanksgiving at the Woodbridge Inn. Speaking of the Inn, we're still trying to find the next owner of the Woodbridge, and would love to do so before the end of the year. If you've ever dreamed of owning a beautiful, historic hotel/restaurant in the North Georgia mountains, the Woodbridge Inn is your place! Or even if you just know of someone, please pass this listing along. It's a tough pill to swallow, but my roller-coaster health just won't allow us to keep the Woodbridge and we're anxious to help usher in some new owners and introduce them to the community.

So much to do, but before I sign off, I wanted to share an amazing Christmas gift idea that I think you'll love. I'm not talking about my cookbook or spices, (although they DO make excellent holiday gifts!), but rather a unique German Food Club which delivers various German food stuffs throughout the terms of your subscription (which can be as short as 3 months or as long as a year). No matter where you live in the country, you'll get shipments full of amazing German food items like authentic Stollen (the pick for December...can't wait!), pickles and breads. If you can't find the perfect gift for your finicky foodie, I think I just found it for you!

This cold weather is not kind on my surgically compromised body. The cold ignites the nerve damage caused by my multiple thoracotomies, so I plan on wearing up to 4 layers of clothes every day until the daffodils once again show their little yellow faces. I love a good snow, but I'm already itching for Spring.

More soon. Enjoy your family...enjoy your health. Gesundheit!

Hans

Sing your life...

2011-10-19T22:10:00.000-04:00

Sing your life…

(This is the blog I wrote for CNN's Human Factor)

The six years following my initial cancer diagnosis have been a complete, blender-spinning blur. At times, my most recent surgery from back in March feels like a decade ago, yet my first journey under the knife way back in 2005 seems somehow more recent. Keeping a blog was my wife Amy's idea. In truth, I wasn't even 100% sure I truly knew what a BLOG was! I thought the term was VLOG…which I suppose is just as arbitrary as BLOG. At any rate, the first few entries were a cautious, nervous, frightened collection of thoughts describing our baptism into the complicated world of cancer. Sometimes funny, sometimes graphic, always unsure what waiting around the next corner, we shared our story with the world as it happened, blow by blow. When the details of my many health challenges seem vague, I sometimes read through my own blog entries and wade back through the thick and tangled memories of that journey.

Eleven surgeries, countless checkups, and several hundred blog entries later, the story continues. I'm always surprised by the diversity and sheer number of readers that the blog attracts. Some pop in to quench their curiosity, some hoping for a light laugh, but others arrive while looking for some serious slivers of hope. If you do a search for GASTRIC CANCER on your favorite search tool, you're likely to come away from your computer feeling overwhelmed and even hopeless. But should you somehow land here after having just been diagnosed with GC, you might just feel the tiniest better about your predicament. "If he can beat stomach cancer, why can't I?" Every time we landed on a survivor's story, we came away with a freshly forged new link in our chain mail…a thicker coat of armor for the battles ahead. Success stories are crucial...steep yourself in them, and then BECOME a success story. Even more importantly, share your success story with the world...sing your life! No matter what you’ve overcome in your life, no matter how insignificant it may seem to you, every success story can be as contagious as a wide-mouth yawn.

It may not seem all that important right now, and even more to the point, you may not FEEL like writing your story right now, but to someone somewhere, it's just what they need to hear. Your story may be the tale that fuels the fire of hope that is so crucial for someone facing a cancer diagnosis. We’re all on this ride together, so don’t try and go it alone. I can’t make you do it, but I’d be proud if you signed up to mentor or council others through support groups like the Anderson Network or Immerman’s Angels. I also work with the Gastric Cancer Fund to do what I can to help others dealing with this disease. Chances are there are local support groups in your area that could use your voice...your story. It’s a powerful thing...

Be well my friends...gesundheit!

Hans

PS - We're selling $25 raffle tickets to raise funds for the Gastric Cancer Fund. The prize?? a 7-Day Cruise for Two with an Oceanview Sateroom on Norwegian Cruise Line. The Drawing will be held on December 3rd, and the tickets must be purchased by November 18th. And if you're in the mood, you can get FIVE raffle tickets for only $100. If you're interested in buying a chance at an amazing cruise, visit www.gastriccancer.org for the details.

On CNN...

2011-10-11T22:03:00.003-04:00

So CNN has been sneaking around me for the last few weeks...really fun! I've always been a fan of Dr. Sanjay Gupta, so I must say I was truly excited when his team approached me to do a piece on the "Chef with No Stomach". So here it is:

And here is the blog piece that goes with it:

http://thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2011/10/11/human-factor-survivors-your-stories-fuel-hope/

I hope you enjoy...gesundheit!

Hans

For crying out loud...

2011-09-19T21:45:00.000-04:00

As I lay in the hospital, July 2005, an elderly woman's scream echoed down the hall and into my room. It was a sound that would repeat itself all through the night, sometimes stronger, sometimes faint. My room was just a few doors down from my sister's deathbed and just a few days away from my own cancer diagnosis. I was sick, but I knew nothing of real pain...not yet. As the hours passed and the woman's screams and moans continued, I grew increasingly annoyed by her caterwauling. Can they not shut her up? Is there no medication they can give her to ease her pain...real or imagined? Is there no distraction that might give the rest of us patients a reprieve from that incessant noise? It seemed so unnecessary, over the top, selfish, dramatic, and even exaggerated. My nurse told us that she had been like that for several days. "You'll get used to it," she said, but I never did.

One month later and my partial gastrectomy/esophajectomy was performed at MD Anderson in Houston, TX. Severe complications from that surgery produced a leak between stomach and esophagus. A barium study put me in a tailspin...a deep level of pain so severe that I remember literally screaming out for help. I was experiencing the ravaging, fiery pain associated with the beginnings of sepsis...potentially fatal. The medications they pushed through my veins did nothing but deteriorate my already unstable mental focus. I remember strange snapshots of that night; Amy was in tears while nurse Patti tried to comfort her. An emergency CT was ordered, but the only open machine was the one usually reserved for their pediatric patients. A cardboard cutout Scooby Doo hung from a wire above the scanner table, my eyes swimming back and forth in my head as I tried to make sense of it all. And all the while I heard screaming and moans...horrible sounds that reminded me of that obnoxiously loud lady back in the hospital in Jasper. This time, however, the screamer was me. Violently nauseous, scared, writhing in pain, and desperate for any kind of relief, my mind kept returning to that poor woman and my complete lack of empathy for her suffering. I never leaned the identity of that moaning patient from July 2005, but if our paths ever cross I owe her an apology and a strong, but gentle hug.

Of course I lived through the traumatic events of that evening and, with the support of my wife and family, went on to endure many more surgeries and painful emergencies. I still suffer from chronic pain and searing nerve damage, but I'm proud to now have a deep sense of compassion and empathy for those dealing with such issues. My friend and mentor Dee (technically my wife's ex-step-grandmother) is a chronic pain patient and has suggested that we co-author a book on the subject of pain with suggestions and advice for those living life uncomfortably. I wish I could say I don't know what chronic pain is like, but sadly I, and many people very close to me, know it all too well.

I'm home from an important trip to Houston where I received some good results on my 6-year cancer-free checkup. No evidence of disease (NED) now for 6 solid years! Now we focus on getting my weight up and my pain level down. A big thank you goes out to my wife, my family, and all of my friends who have helped me through this epic struggle. I had the opportunity to speak at the annual Survivorship Conference at MDA this past weekend and it was truly fantastic. I told the exuberant audience that it felt more like a family reunion than a conference, only I'd not yet met most of that "family". If you have the opportunity to join us next year, please do. I'm not sure of the exact dates yet, but I'll be sure to post them here when the 2012 conference is scheduled. Much to do. Stay strong my friends...stay true.

Gesundheit!

Hans

Next Food Network Star book

2011-08-14T08:35:00.003-04:00

I just wanted to pass this along, though I must admit it's a bit of a blind recommendation. I received a phone call about a year ago from someone at Food Network asking if I'd like to be a part of a Next Food Network Star book that they were compiling. I said "yes", being the agreeable type that I am, and then answered a few questions via email about my experiences with the NFNS show. My time on the series has probably been reduced to a tiny box in the corner of some random page, but we'll see how it turns out when the book is released this Tuesday the 16th. I've included an Amazon link below where you can find out more about the book and order one if you see fit.

With so many seasons under their belt, I imagine that capturing the real spirit of each group of contestants would be incredibly challenging. I walked away from that experience and straight into the real drama of gastric cancer. I'm proud of my time on Food Network, but I'm exponentially more proud of the work I've done with cancer patients since my diagnosis and resulting surgeries. But I'll pick up a copy of the book for the pure nostalgia of it all. 2005 seems like a true lifetime away...and for all purposes, I guess it really is.

More soon.

Gesundheit

Hans

Selling the Inn

2011-07-25T08:40:00.000-04:00

The Woodbridge Inn has been such a wonderful part of my life. It has been my home, my education, my occupation, and my foundation. I can't imagine how my life would've turned out without it and I'm grateful for every opportunity it has afforded me. But the time has come to let another family take the reigns. My doctors and my family have been urging me for the past few years to step down, but I was too stubborn and too proud to listen. This most recent surgery however has proven that I can no longer ignore their prudent advice.

We took over the Inn in October of 2009, a time when my health seemed to be holding steady. Amy and I were proud to come aboard and let my parents retire while we shouldered the weight of the daily work to be done. Shortly after that transition in March of 2010, my father passed away. One month after that, my brain infection came back...much worse than the previous bout which nearly killed me. Since then my life has been a series of dips and dives, from surgery to recovery and back to surgery, more times than I care to remember. If fact, I sometimes have to go back and read my own blog to recall what happened when and for what reason. I used to thrive on the rapid-fire energy that came from feeding crowds of diners, but my stamina just isn't what it used to be. After an hour of working at the restaurant, I'm absolutely drained and exhausted. My physicians all agree that the last thing I need to be doing with my health history is trying to run a restaurant. Doing so only increases the likelihood that my medical issues might return.

During all of my medical challenges, we've been fortunate to have a caring and honest staff that we could rely on at the Woodbridge. Without them minding the fort, there would be no way we would have lasted so long. While I was off being sliced open and stitched back together, the team was at the restaurant making sure everyone was well fed and happy. It's a strong crew, and one that's willing to stay on when the next owner arrives. So who are these new owners? Well, we don't know yet. I was hoping you could help us by spreading the word about the Woodbridge and helping us find the right people to guide the historic inn into the future. I know we can't cherry-pick who the new owners will be, but I'm optimistic that, with your help, we'll find someone who will take pride in our historic gem and carry on many of the traditions my family started nearly 4 decades ago. We've listed the Woodbridge at below appraised value in the hopes that we can sell it before the year's end. I'll do everything in my power to make sure the transition goes smoothly.

Now, before I share the link to the real estate listing, I have one more favor to ask. It's simple really: we need you to keep eating at the Woodbridge! It may take some time to sell the restaurant and we absolutely need your support! Even when the place does sell, the new owners will need your support too! We depend on our regular customers and would truly go under if we lost your loyal support. So please, let's keep the Woodbridge Inn one of north Georgia's dining destinations, a tradition that will stay a tradition for generations to come.

The Woodbridge is listed with the Shumacher Group in Atlanta, and you can see the listing on their website. The Shumacher group is a well respected agency that specializes in restaurant listings and has been involved in the sale of nearly every well-known dining establishment in the Atlanta area. What the listing fails to mention is that the property would make an amazing home for someone who would like for their family to live on site. My parents, sister and I lived comfortably above the restaurant for nearly 20 years. Our commute to work was a mere twelve and a half stairs down to one of the state's most famous restaurants. Our old living space has been turned back into 6 guest rooms, the way James Lenning originally ran his Hotel in the late 1800's. But should a family opt to live on the property, those rooms could easily be converted back into family living space.

Through the years, the Woodbridge Inn has racked up numerous awards and has been featured in several magazines and travel guides. It's appeared on Food Network, Georgia Traveller, as well as other state and local television programs. It is also featured in my own cookbook, Eat Like There's No Tomorrow. The property is truly a rare gem! Medical issues may be forcing our family to bow out, but there's great opportunity for a new owner to continue to collect awards while starting their own special traditions.

I hope you'll help our family find new owners for our beloved Woodbridge Inn. Share this information with every person you can think of who might make a suitable owner for such an amazing property. In the meantime, please don't stop coming out to dine with us. We're proud of the relationships that we've made through the restaurant over the years and hope those
bonds stay strong.

Be well...gesundheit!

On bees and needles...

2011-07-19T22:56:00.005-04:00

It's about time I came back around to my blog. I've been writing entries in my head lately, but simply haven't found the time, energy, strength, and/or focus to sit down and put fingers to the keyboard. So here we go...

PAIN is still a long shadow in my life that I just can't seem to outrun. The severed nerves along my right side are seriously angry and my normal pain relief options appear to be bored with me. So today I'm heading into the city to have an injection coupled with radio oblation. I've had these types of injections in the past and they've worked with random degrees of success. The injection not only delivers a dose of steroids to the offending nerves, but also a blast of radio frequencies which will hopefully "confuse" and cook the nerves enough to switch off the pain receptors. It's near impossible to explain chronic pain to someone who's never experienced it...especially nerve damage. It's a wicked thing: part lightning, part kick, part stilleto-stab...aching, debilitating, cruel & relentless. It's a presence that cannot be ignored, influencing every decision I make, every moment...every day. I'm hoping that today's procedure will offer me three or four months of relief, dialing back the intensity from a daily 6 or 7 (out of 10) to perhaps a 3 or 4. I lost my hero in the pain battle when we had to switch insurance back in January. Dr. Steven Lobel has done a great job of finding methods of pain control that work with my uniquely rearranged and damaged anatomy. If you suffer from chronic pain and live in the Atlanta area, I'd highly recommend him. Even though insurance won't allow me to see him, he's still offering his advice, including notes for the Dr. performing today's procedure.

{UPDATE}

The procedure went well, but involved three needles at T5, T6 &T7 (if that means anything to you), as well as multiple "burns" of radio oblation. I know I screamed/yelped at least a few times...wicked painful. The puncture points are severely sore right now, but hopefully I'll feel some positive results in the next few days.

The bees have been enjoying our white crepe myrtle to the point where I may have to stage an intervention. Each morning I'm met with a cacophony of giddy buzzing as all types of flying addicts zip around my head to dive bomb the fragrant (and sweet?) myrtle blossoms. The video is a bit shoddy, but maybe you can get the idea of the wild romp above my head each morning.

Quick recommendation: if you like board games, check out Smallworld by Days of Wonder. The kids and I are loving it, and there's even a great iPad version as well.

More soon. MD Anderson just posted a recent article about me in preparation for the upcoming Anderson Network Cancer Survivorship Conference I'll be speaking at in September. I hope to see at least some of you there. I'm immensely proud they've asked me to speak...prouder than words can convey.

Gesundheit friends,

Hans

Goodbye stupid pain...

2011-06-15T17:56:00.000-04:00

One of my biggest challenges these days is trying to gain any weight. My appetite is strong, but I'd been experiencing some pretty severe abdominal pains after nearly each and every meal. That made the trip to Europe all the more challenging as each food adventure was like a cruel (and let's not forget ironic) game of Russian Roulette. The worst day was in Slovenia. We were finishing up our once-in-a-lifetime lunch in the shadow of an old castle high above the scenic streets of Ljubjana and my gut felt like someone had just shot me with a Gatling gun. I was in so much pain and my body just wanted to lie down and sleep, yet we were at least 15 minutes walk from the car (where did I park that car?!?) and about 75 miles from our hotel. It was one of those moments when I started thinking that all of those folks who said "You can't go to Europe! You just had surgery!" were right!

At the Slovenian lunch...before the pain

Now understand that these pains were not "bathroom" cramps...not by a long shot. At least with that kind of cramping you can eventually get some sort of relief. No, these were true, "I hate life!" kind of pains that made me truly fear each and every meal. For someone seriously trying to gain weight, fearing food is not really all that advantageous.

I was in Houston this past week for my first real checkup since my total gastrectomy and everything appears to be healing fine. While I was out there I visited my good friends Ron & Don for a meal and a trip to Half Price Books. My gut pains kicked in at the book store and we had to cut the visit short. Don, a pharmacist, asked if I'd tried a smooth muscle relaxer called Levsin, or Hyoscyamine. At my Dr. appointment the next day I mentioned Don's suggestion and the doc was on board for giving it a try. Well, I'm happy to report that the drug is a total life-changer. Since having the script filled I haven't had ANY of the post-meal abdominal pains I was experiencing. I've started to put on a few pounds and will hopefully continue to do so through the summer.

Speaking of which, it's time to whip up some dinner! More soon, including more tales from the European journey...soon!

Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

Europe - pt 2 Slovenia

2011-06-03T08:16:00.001-04:00

So I'm recalling bits and pieces of our Europe trip in no particular order. I figure since it's all past tense at this point, it doesn't matter if I'm chronologically accurate, right?

The Slovenian capitol of Ljubljana is only about an hour away from our host city of Valbruna, Italy...perfect for a day trip. It's amazing in Europe how you can totally switch cultures on a day trip...everything from language to food to architecture and customs. I'll be honest, Slovenia is not a country I'd given much thought to before planning for this trip. I knew it was a former Eastern-block country (once a part of Yugoslavia), but I had NO idea how much beauty and charm the country had to offer. But that was not my first impression...

One of the many fountains scattered about the city of Ljubljana

The transition from Italy to Slovenia was somewhat non-descript. Aside from the roadside signage being in Slovenian, there was little to distinguish one country from the other...at first. Our journey to Ljubljana required a hop on their version of the Autobahn. On the Italian side, toll plazas were set up every now and then to gradually but surely siphon off any Euros in your temporary possession. In Slovenia, you need to stop at a gas station before getting on the highway to purchase a "vignette", a simple windshield sticker. We didn't know that. Marco (our tour coordinator and proprietor of the Valbruna Inn) told me that when we reach the toll plaza, we just keep driving. As we slowed through the highway toll station, a man started frantically waving for us to pull over on the left side of the highway. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but Amy quickly convinced me that the uniformed police officer was serious. What happened next had to be hysterical for passers-by. The policeman did speak a word of English, nor I a word of Slovenian. Heck, the correct pronunciation of hvala (the Slovenian word for "Thank You") is still somewhat of a mystery...pronounced a bit like a cross between koala and qua-lah. I followed the officer back to a waiting mini-van equipped with a mobile office in the back. I handed him my passport and drivers license, but he kept saying "vignette, vignette!". Out of context, I had no idea what he was asking for or demanding. Out of desperation, I asked if he spoke German and, luckily, he did. For the next 5-10 minutes, my German had never sounded so good! Basically he explained that since I didn't know about the toll sticker, or vignette, he was going to let me go easy with a fine of only 150Euros. Damn! The normal rate, he tells me as if to lower my floating eyebrows, is between 300-800Euros, so in his eyes, it was a bargain. Oh, and I had to buy the 15Euro vignette as well, so the whole transaction cost us 165Euros plus landed me on Slovenia's "Stupid Tourist" list. We parted with a pair of totally fabricated smiles and a negative impression of Slovenia's toll system. Lesson learned...

Fresh market in Ljubljana, Slovenia...cherries in season!

Parking in Ljubljana was nightmarish, but totally worth the frustration. The city is alive and vibrant, full of history and modern energy. I honestly had very few preconceived notions of what we'd find in Slovenia, but I was pleasantly surprised that the city felt like a calmer, cleaner version of Amsterdam. Our guide Salmo was a joy, brimming with pride for his nation as he carefully explained the historical landmarks along our route. We strolled along the Ljubljanica river, stopping to admire churches and statues, meandering through a fresh market on our way to the funicular station. What's a funicular? It's that sort of slanted train thing that one takes to the top of the mountain. There's one at Lookout Mtn in Chattanooga, TN and somehow we managed to ride three of them during the course of our Euro trip. So the funicular (fun word!) takes us to the top of a mountain in the middle of the city that houses a fortress/palace that offers one amazing view of the surrounding area, as well as an upscale yet accessible (by funicular) restaurant specializing in traditional Slovenian food. Really nice. No one in Europe seems to understand what a SMALL portion means, so we were overwhelmed by course after course of some really beautiful food, including house-cured salami, tartare (raw ground beef), pates, freshly baked bread with pork cracklings (like we do in the South, but with sweet dough, not cornmeal), and more. By the time the entrees came, the entire table was FULL. And then came two rounds of desserts, including a clever presentation of fresh picked Alpine strawberries in cream...delightful. I'm still learning the limits of my newly rearranged and shortened digestive system, so I completely over-ate and ended up feeling like a Slovenian pony had kicked me in the gut, but overall, Ljubljana was truly a gem and worth the one hour drive and the harsh fine I paid for the "vignette" on the car.

Slovenian sampler with fresh farmer's cheese and steak tartare

A fresh little strawberry concoction with a bowl of tart cherries to boot

More notes from the trip soon. I may have mentioned this before, but the plan is to do a similar trip each year with the Valbruna Inn as our home base. It's so fantastic to be able to totally unpack then venture out on short day trips, and there are so many things to see in under an hour's drive from there. Valbruna is worthy as its own destination too! So if you couldn't make it with us on this trip, let me know if you'd like to join us on the next one and I'll start a running list. Of course we don't even have dates yet, so it'll just be an informal list and you can always change your mind later. But if there IS interest, let me know and we'll move toward that goal.

Gesundheit friends...

Hans

Cockta - the Slovenian soft drink that tastes a bit like Coca-Cola and Dr. Pepper had a fling

Europe - pt 1

2011-05-31T07:30:00.000-04:00

Well we survived our two week foray into the Alps of Italy, Austria & Slovenia with not even a scratch to show for it. It's funny how small town living works though. I had a lady at the grocery store tell me that she was glad that I only had one bad day in Europe. Wow...I did? Truth is, eating is still very much a challenge for me, so I had many a post-meal crash, but all-in-all, EVERY day was fantastic in Europe, despite what her secret European informant may have told her! I'll talk more about health stuff later, but first, let's talk about Europe!

The view from our room at the Valbruna Inn

This impetus for this trip was a culinary tour that I was invited to be a part of to help promote an show of the Fruili-Venezia Giulia region of northern Italy. I'd been to the Tyrolian side of the Italian alps before, but I must admit that the Julian alps were absolutely stunning...bucket-list quality! We stayed at the Valbruna Inn in the tiny village of Valbruna, and truly it's worth putting on your future travel radar. The village is small, but close enough to so many sights and attractions as to make it the perfect escape from the usual herd of tourism that can sometimes spoil the authenticity of a place. And it's located just 20 minutes from both the Austrian and the Slovenian border should you want to add some additional stamps to your passport. Our plan is to do another such tour of the area, perhaps next time in the Fall or Winter (in case you'd like to hit the ski slopes). The thing is, it's just so damn beautiful that it really doesn't matter what time of year you go...just GO! Marco and his staff at the Valbruna Inn do an amazing job of making you feel right at home...truly a gem! As soon as we plan a return tour, I'll post the details here. And this time around, drop the excuses and just come along...you'll be glad you did.

There's not a camera big enough to capture the whole range...unless you're in space!

After we said goodbye to the folks on the tour, we hopped into our rented wagon and headed north to Salzburg, Austria. I was lucky as a child to visit the city on a couple of occasions during winter visits to family overseas, then again on a whirlwind, slightly insane trip to Europe with my friend Brad. Luckily, like many European cities, time has not changed Salzburg. I don't even think that it can...it seems impervious to the normal slow decay that usually comes with the passing of decades. We followed our trusty GPS to the mom & pop hotel that I booked online after reading smashing reviews from Trip Advisor. Well, apparently mom & pop attracted a large herd of bladder-compromised cats since the last reviewer stayed, because the whole damn property reeked of cat piss. Awful! Plus the 4-bed room that I booked mysteriously only contained 3 beds, with not even an inch worth of wiggle room where we might have someone camp out on the floor or pull in a cot. When presented with those very obvious facts, the belligerent inn-keep tried to tell me that, despite the email chain to the contrary, 3 beds was all I requested and that's all that they have. Luckily, the hotel (like many in Europe) didn't take credit cards, so we simply got back in the car and took off. We ended up in the Hotel Stieglbrau, which was only a 15 minute walk to the Altstadt (old city), the perfect place to enjoy two and a half days of the magic of Salzburg. It's a city close to my heart and one I'd been wanting to share with my family for years.

The Hohensalzburg fortress high above the city

More on the European tour a bit later, including tales of a subterranean salt mine that's been in use for over 7000 years! We never did find the pepper mine though...

I'll leave you with a picture from one of my favorite meals on the trip: a collection of farm-made cold cuts and sausages that I wish was in front of me right now. Delicious!

Mahltzeit!

Gesundheit friends...

Hans

Honestly, I'm fine...

2011-04-27T08:44:00.000-04:00

It's funny. If I go for a dozen days without updating my blog, people begin to assume the worst. I know my previous health history might imply that no news is BAD news, but sometimes no news just means that I'm enjoying my family...enjoying life outside of the hospital. I received a few emails and texts over the last few days from worried folks, and a couple apparently even called the restaurant to ask what's wrong. While I appreciate the concern, calling the restaurant just starts a wave of gossip and rumors that can quickly spiral out of control...we've had it happen! So let's agree for now that no news is good news. Of course I'm still hurting after that last, brutal surgery. But every day seems to be a little better than the last. I'm learning to eat and can manage a fairly decent sized meal with little to no complications and, with the help of the feeding pump, have managed to gain about 10 pounds since my homecoming. Not bad! I'm catching up with writing all of the Thank You cards to those of you who generously gave to the Gesundheit Fund, but many of the donations were anonymous. I don't know who you are, but thank you...from the bottom of my jejunum, thank you! I'm optimistic that this was the final, major surgery and that we can start to chip away at the mountain of medical bills that this medical life created. Again...thank you!

The new dolphin exhibit at the Georgia Aquarium is finally open and we took the kids down yesterday to check it all out. Ella has said for the past couple of years (since going to Sea World I think) that she wants to be a dolphin trainer when she grows up. It's a pretty specific dream, but I'm all for it. How cool would that be? I grew up watching Nature and Jacques Cousteau and have always had a deep love for things aquatic. I even considered a degree in marine biology in my early university days, but obviously took another path. The exhibit was pretty impressive, but we arrived too early for the dolphin show, which appears to be the largest part of that attraction. We have annual passes, so we'll have to time it better next time so we can see those dolphin trainers in action.

Finn and I spent about 15 minutes at the "petting pool", gently touching the backs and fins of stingrays, cowrays and small sharks. If you've not done that...don't be frightened or squeamish. The fish seem to genuinely enjoy the curious fingers running down their backs and make it an effort to swim right up to you. It was calm and tranquil for about 8 minutes, and then a school group arrived and brought along their special chaos. Kids in red and blue uniforms were trying to grab, squeeze and generally torment the poor animals, splashing and wildly whooping all the while. Annoying. The teachers and chaperones seemed so oblivious to the madness and the temptation to "accidentally" bump one of the obnoxious kids headlong into the petting pool was pretty great. Finn admitted it too. An organized educational experience? Nope. More like an out-of-classroom exercise on chaos and animal cruelty. Luckily the fish could sense the uniformed kids' intentions and kept themselves to the deeper areas of the pool. Hopefully time with teach those fish to avoid the uniformed children...

Much to do. I'll be heading in for yet another iron infusion this week to get my levels back near normal. Having no stomach means I have no natural way of absorbing both iron and vitamin B12, so infusions like this will come along every 6-8 months. Thank you again for all of your support...but don't panic if things get quiet from time to time. That's just a sign that I'm out trying to have a life. Gesundheit!

Hans

Stomach-less

2011-04-10T07:41:00.001-04:00

I don't have a stomach. The genuine simplicity of that truism continues to surprise me as we work toward finally escaping this hospital. I was being "fed" through my veins via TPN (total parenteral nutrition), but that has been gradually tapered off and we've begin using a nutrient and calorie dense fluid pumped in through my J-tube (jejunal tube...comes in to the left of my belly button). I can't imagine that the Isosource "milkshake" being pumped into my body has any redeeming flavor qualities, but it looks like a melted "Frosty" chocolate shake from Wendy's restaurant. Because of that, I'm seriously craving a damn Frosty! So when can I have one? I don't know. Because I have the J-tube, I could theoretically go for weeks or even months with my nutrition being funneled solely through my gut. The longer we allow my "new" digestive tract to heal, the better. Emotionally, I'm ready to EAT, but mentally I know it's best to give it some time to ensure my custom digestive run to thoroughly heal.

While my digestive tract heals on the inside, I still have a good deal of structural healing to do as well. I need to draw a diagram of this surgery at some point, but essentially there were 4 surgery "fields" in this epic operation. There's the thoracotomy where they went in through my back, just under and around my right shoulder. I'm losing count, but I think they've been in through that area about 5 times. They had to go into my upper left thigh to harvest and "borrow" some blood vessels that were used to supply blood to the piece of jejunum that they took out of my belly. It's that long incision that's hurting me this mornining. It's starting to improve, but the approx. 8" cut that snakes arount my navel makes sitting up a challenge. Lastly, the cut in through the front of my neck is still full of staples and stitches. I think those will finally be removed on Wednesday, which should finally offer me some relief from the constant tension in that soft tissue. It all hurts, and it will for some time.

From what I understand, the plan is to discharge me from the hospital over to the adjacent hotel known as the Rotary House. That allows me to simply walk across the skybridge to attend follow up appointments and get bloodwork done. I'm not holding my breath, but the rumor round the nursing station is that I'm getting out of here soon...LET'S GO!

My strangely dilated pupils are starting to look less cartoon-ish and I'm able to spend a little more time with the iPad before the words start to swim again. I'm so happy that Amy was able to keep the blog updated during my recuperation. In truth, so knew more about what was going on at any given moment than I did, so you were lucky to get updates from someone who has researched every possible aspect of this unusual and potentially dangerous surgery. Thank you Amy...for everything.

Much to do. Thank you for all of your love and support over the last few weeks. It was quite honestly the most difficult surgery my body has ever endured...thanks for being right here with me.

Gesundheit friends,

Hans

Post Surgery - Day 4

2011-04-04T01:44:00.000-04:00

Amy here.

Unfortunately, Hans is still having real problems reading, so texting and returning emails isn't happening much yet. His voice is still wavering, so other than calling his Mama and our kids Hans doesn't have much interest in the phone. I have my hands full...I'm able to eke out a blog update here and there, but that's about it. So, um, you just have to be patient and read the blog when we update, please. When Hans is able and well enough he will communicate again.

Every once in a while he is getting a tweet out on Twitter, but it takes a LONG time for him to type that small sentence. The words seem to jump off the screen and look 3D to him which is unsettling. His pupils have actually been different sizes since surgery, with the left pupil being twice the size of the right.

He seemed to be stronger today and has been walking his laps around the "pods" of hospital rooms. Then, one of his doctors found us in the hall while we were walking (escaping!) and she told us that his hemoglobin count was just 7. Before surgery his hemoglobin was 11. It was back to the room for two bags of blood.

Someone out there helped save Hans' life today by donating that blood. Thank you. Thank you to everyone kind enough, thoughtful enough, to donate blood. There are so many patients out there, like Hans, that need blood to recover.

Another milestone today was losing the NG tube! That's the evil bugger that goes up his nose and down into the esophagus to the surgery site. Hans is always glad to lose that one. He still has the picc line, jtube (nutrition), chest tubes and neck tube. The bruising on his thigh where the Dr. harvested a vein is epic...looks like someone smacked him with a baseball bat. His arms are badly bruised from all the iv lines. They had to install a new iv line today for the blood and it's already causing him more pain and swelling.

Pain is still a big issue. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.

Thank you for checking on Hans! We are grateful for your kind thoughts & words. Always.

Post Surgery - Day 2

2011-04-01T21:08:00.000-04:00

Amy here again.

It's been 2 days since Hans' surgery and he is still in crazy amounts of pain. Trying to get the pain under control means lots of painkillers and that kinda messes with Hans mentally. All day they've been trying to find the magic amount to get his pain under control.

He also isn't getting quality sleep. Yesterday the nurses and doctors were upset because Hans was talking too much and not sleeping/resting. Because they are worried about his vocal cords being damaged they didn't want him talking that much. Dr. Hofstetter told me after surgery that we will know more about if Hans' vocal cords are messed up at day 3 post surgery.

He had two of the arm IVs removed, but still has 2 tubes coming out of his chest on the right side, an NG (naso-gastric) tube coming out of his nose, a J-tube coming out of his stomach (to be used for nutrition in the coming months), a picc line coming out of his arm, a foley catheter for urine, and a drainage tube coming out of his neck. I *think* that's all of them! All of it gives him a case of claustrophobia.

The drainage tube in his neck is for an unusual bit that is special to this Supercharged Jejunal Interposition surgery. The surgeons actually pulled a loop of the jejunum (small intestine) that they used for his new esophagus OUT of his lower neck. Yep, he has a hunk of intestine on the outside of his body right now. This is a "window" for them to see if the blood supply is working to Hans' new anatomy. Every hour the nurses take a handheld doppler and listen for a pulse. Also, we make sure that the monitoring bit of jejunum stays moist and pink. Hans was desperate to put googly eyes on this, but I don't think the docs would approve!

In a few days once they are sure the blood supply is nice and connected the plastic surgeons will remove this bit and sew him up. Today, they had to put two more sutures around the monitoring loop so that the drainage tube would work better.

He still isn't able to read much..or type, obviously... talking too much is a no-no. But I think he's recovering well all in all. I'm really glad he didn't end up in ICU.

I met a lady in the hall who's husband is in ICU right now. He had the same stomach cancer as Hans, diagnosed two years ago and at a lower stage than Hans. But his cancer is back and they just found out he is terminal. My heart aches for them. Sometimes, even with everything Hans has gone through, survivor's guilt bites us.

signing off for now...we'll try to update tomorrow!

Update from Amy

2011-03-31T01:07:00.000-04:00

A bustling group of nurses and doctors came to Hans' room at 7:15 this morning and took him down to the operating room... Brenda & I went to the waiting room and settled in. Don Bertram came a couple hours into it and stayed the entire day with us, just like he did in 2005 with Hans' first surgery!

We were told that surgery began at 8:31am. Our first update from the nurse was at 10am and happened every 2 hours after that.

They were able to do the entire surgery today...Cleaned out the infection in his chest/back, removed the stomach and esophagus, replaced that with a section of jejunum and hooked up a good blood supply to the jejunum, including a vein harvested from Hans' thigh.

He was in surgery for 12 or 13 hours. I'll have to ask what the official time is later.

Dr. Hofstetter looked tired, but confident. He takes such good care of Hans & I (we!) appreciate him so very much. He's a wonderful man and a great surgeon. He has a fabulous team that work with him & you can tell that they all like & respect each other. Good peeps...good peeps.

Hans is still in the surgery recovery room. A nurse just told me that they are still trying to get his pain under control. I'm waiting for him in his hospital room. If his breathing becomes difficult tonight they will put him in ICU, but hopefully he can stay here on our favorite floor with all of our fabulous nurses.

I'm sure the nurses in ICU are ok & all...but our 7th floor nurses kick ass & love Hans. A good combination.

Please remember to check the blog here for updates on Hans. Y'all know we love you all & we feel so honored that you all love Hans so much...but it's exhausting to have to repeat news over & over! Hans' medical news is the reason he started this blog...so that all of his caring friends have access to the latest. This way our little family can concentrate on Hans & not have our attention taken away from him every few minutes.

I wasn't thinking about posting tonight, but Don Bertram reminded me that I should so that our phones wouldn't ring like crazy & everyone would know the latest. I promise I will remember to post on here if Hans isn't able to.

It's been a LONG day. The next few days will be rough on Hans as he takes the initial steps to healing. Dr. Hofstetter said Hans' voice will be very rough and he will have a super sore throat. We also have to watch because this surgery was close to the vocal cords and sometimes they get damaged. In other words, Hans might not be able to talk with comfort for a few days so the phone will not be a good idea for him yet!

Thank you all for your kind words and thoughts! We really are honored and humbled by everyone's love for Hans. It means the world to us to know y'all care so much during these difficult and scary times. Thank you.

Goodbye stomach...

2011-03-30T00:24:00.001-04:00

I'm feeling oddly sentimental about losing my stomach. Not because I'm a chef...the stomach is only a storage vessel, downstream and lower in rank than the taste buds and the tongue. But the last 5 years of my life have been focused on saving what little was left of my stomach, and now that we've come to the end of our options, it just seems a little sad to finally say "goodbye". My stomach and I spent the day enjoying our meals, experiencing the joys of cheesecake, fresh strawberries, and even two lattes topped with frothy foam and whipped cream. I realize I should be able to enjoy those foods again, and hopefully soon. But future meals and snacks will plunge through a digestive tract that only a surgeon could adequately explain. From what we know, there's going to be a bit of a learning curve moving forward. Each "supercharged jejunal interposition" is different because each patient is different. Swallowing will be difficult at first, and even frustrating. The section of jejunum that will become my new esophagus can spasm and lock up, leaving me with the feeling of being full or even having to regurgitate at times. In truth, as long as I survive this mess, I'm willing to learn and adapt to whatever I must. Life...it's worth the effort.

Sleep is approaching. This is my last post with my stomach, and it's also my 400th blog post. This blog started right here at MD Anderson and that journey continues. Amy is the one who suggested I start the blog and now, some 400 posts later, she's still right here with me. Hopefully Wednesday's surgery will ultimately bring some health and stability into our lives. I think we deserve it.

Gesundheit friends...thank you

Hans

Hospital time zone...

2011-03-29T01:50:00.000-04:00

I inherited my love for travel at a very early age. I love my home of course, with all of the comforts it affords. But every few months I get a deep, insatiable urge to travel wide and travel far. One of the costs of such travel is time lost to lag. Whether you fly toward the sunrise or away, you always pay the price. I've met people who say flying east is better and others who favor heading west, but either way, my body has to have an adjustment period when it's away from EST. I'm only one hour back from home right now, but my body is still trying ot figure things out. And hospitals seem to have their own bubble of time...their own proprietary hospital standard time. If you've ever spent much time in one, you know exactly what I mean. You're only allowed to sleep in 1-2 hour bursts, and even then, not during your "normal" sleepy time. As far as medical science has come, it still cannot figure out how to comfortably and remotely monitor your vital signs. With the array of IV drips I have right now, it's guaranteed that something will beep or chirp or chime the moment I drift off into slumber.

And the speed with which my waking hours pass is truly arbitrary. Some hours go by like lightning, others like narcoleptic snails. Since I'm always exhausted, I'm constantly fighting off sleep when I want to be awake. There's no real rhyme or reason to the way the days progress. MD Anderson pioneered the way patients are fed, and I'm allowed to order food all through the day as I crave it. This is the first time I've really taken advantage of that and I've already polished off four slices of cheesecake today...and two yesterday! My eating patterns are as wonky as the rest of my days, and if the service was still active at 12:32 AM (right now), I'd order another piece...because I can! I remember being in the hospital 5 years ago and feeling jealous every time I saw food being delivered to another patient's room. I know that in just another day or so I'll be envying other people's food again, but now I can eat what I want and when I want it...so I will!

The actual surgery I'm having on Wednesday is called a Supercharged microvascular jejunal interposition. Pretty involved procedure that is simply too complex to describe in any true detail (you can search for that term and see a few articles on it...beware that some of the pictures are quite graphic). Essentially they'll be removing what's left of my faulty stomach, along with some of the radiation damaged esophagus and infection damaged soft tissue. Then they'll harvest a length of my jejunum and use it as my new esophagus, attaching to esophagus tissue above and intestines below. They used to do what's known as a neo-stomach, essentially making a stomach-like pouch out of intestine, but they've found that there's no real advantage to doing that and that procedure comes with its own potential problems. So no pouch, just a straight shot from my jejunal esophagus and into the intestine. It's a big surgery which might need to be split into two different surgeries. We're hoping not, but that depends on how bad the current infection is plus how difficult it is to get to and then remove the old stomach. Radiation damage and the other previous surgeries will make my case unique.

I was going to share some pictures, but I'm having some uploading issues. But you can keep up with me on twitter @hanscooks and I'll post some pictures there from time to time. Time to attempt some sleep. My guess is I'll sleep from 12:45am to about 3am, but I'll take what I can get...beggars can't be choosers, eh?

More soon, hopefully before surgery. It may be a note, but I'll try.

Gesundheit!

Hans

Total gastrectomy...

2011-03-24T15:54:00.000-04:00

The specifics of the surgeries ahead are confusing and complex. If I tried to explain it all I a user-friendly fashion, it simply wouldn't sound plausible. In essence, I'm due up for a total gastrectomy. My stomach is leaking again and causing massive infection. What looked like cancer on the previous CT is an area of rampant infection that's so aggressive it's eroding the bone from at least one rib. The infection storm and the damage it's caused explains the uncontrollable pain I've been having...no frozen shoulder, no rotator cuff injury...just good old fashioned, out-of-control infection.

So now the plan is to remove the source of my years of infection: the stomach. It's easy to look back and play the "we should have" game and question why we didn't remove the stomach sooner. The simple answer is that the stomach is worth trying to save. I can live a somewhat normal life without a stomach...I know plenty who have. It's going to be a rough surgery followed by a "new normal" period...relearning to swallow, relearning to eat, etc. But if we can put an end to these constant infections followed by constant repairs, it's worth it.

I'll explain the surgery a bit more in the coming days, but the procedure will involve rearranging my insides a bit...removing more bone, pulling up my intestines, "borrowing" a section of my jejunum that will essentially become my new esophagus. The details are still being discussed and debated, but it sounds like the operation will be split into two procedures: one to remove the faulty stomach and clear out infectious tissue, and the other to rearrange the organs and supply them with ample blood-flow in their new locations. Recovery should take a week or so, but I know I'll be leaving the hospital with a J-tube in place so I can gain some more weight. My plan is to be fighting-fit by May 12th so I can join my family and friends on our culinary trip to northern Italy. I know there's only so much of that I can control, but damn I'll try!

So what do we need while we're in the hospital? Honestly, nothing. After nearly 6 years of medical dramas, we have this hospital living down to a science. And truthfully, if we need something, we'll ask. It's so hard to maneuver with flowers and Teddy bears and books and such, then when it's time to leave, what do you do with all of those things? So just keep those well wishes and prayers coming and we'll be fine. Oh, and keep those seats at the Woodbridge Inn full! When the restaurant is busy, I don't stress...I don't worry. The Inn is our livelihood and we need the support...now more than ever.

I'll be updating the blog and Twitter (@hanscooks) almost daily, so keep up if you'd like. It's going to be a long and bumpy road ahead, but I can do it with the support of my family and my friends.

Gesundheit

Hans

The first year...

2011-03-20T08:54:00.001-04:00

It's been a year since my father died. His passing seemed to the be catalyst of a thousand bad things...the heavy domino that launched wave after wave of life's great difficulties. We lost Joe, then Gloria, then Rhetta, then Ludlow. In between those great loses, my health rode the rickety tracks of one hell of a roller coaster...brain infections, surgeries, constant debilitating pain, and now the threat of more cancer. Of course Dad's passing is in no way directly related to any of these events, but each challenge is made more difficult by his absence. He was the strong one...the grumbling optimist that saw something strangely positive in every event. His odd blend of humor provided much needed moments of both levity and clarity. And when it was time to turn the switch to SERIOUS, his stoic strength was there for all of us to borrow from, as much we each might need.

I've heard so many stories about my father since his passing...some familiar and some surprisingly unknown. He was many things to many people and a force to be remembered. I still believe that he passed before his time after only 69 years, but he lived more in those 69 years than some people do in 100. He had a true lust for life that was thoroughly contagious. He overcame the challenges of two kidney transplants and even open-heart surgery. He spent weeks in the hospital battling an infection that nearly cost him his foot. But each time he emerged from the hospital a little bit tougher and a little bit more determined to enjoy his life.

It's that strength that I borrow from now as we face the possibility of more cancer, or perhaps more infection. Both options are potentially deadly, but both are also defeat-able. In fact, I've beaten them both before, so there's no reason I can't do it again. My tests are scheduled for Wednesday and I'll be sure to update both the blog and Twitter (@hanscooks) on what exactly's going on.

Of course there's the chance that I have neither infection or cancer, but something is causing severe pain that makes even simple tasks challenging. That's what we need to figure out and correct. I have way too many things on my "to-do" list and pain needs to be removed from my daily equation.

Enjoy the warming weather. More soon.

Gesundheit!

Hans

Pneumonia or metastasis...

2011-03-17T08:56:00.000-04:00

It's been a roller-coaster week, to say the least. I've never been much of a roller-coaster fan...always made me a bit queasy.
The CT scan that hinted at pneumonia also revealed a "soft tissue mass consistent with malignancy". Uncool. If you're not familiar with the term, malignancy basically means cancer. So do I have cancer again? Maybe. The area in question is near ribs T6 and T7, which is the area where the last massive surgery took place, which means what they're seeing as a mass could be scar tissue, or it could be infection. My white blood cell count is up, which means something is awry. Both my Atlanta and my Houston team think it's prudent that I get back to Houston ASAP so we can figure out what's going on here. So I head out next week for a PET/CT for a closer look and hopefully some answers. The PET scan is only approved by insurance if there's a firm suspicion of malignancy, and according to the last CT, there is. So do I have pneumonia? Maybe. Maybe not.

Much to do...much to think about. Thank you again for your thoughts & concerns. More soon...gesundheit

Hans

Saving daylight...

2011-03-13T08:55:00.000-04:00

This first morning of extra sunshine has me feeling just a tiny bit better. We got the call yesterday that the CT scan revealed some pneumonia in my right lung. In normal circumstances, pneumonia wouldn't be particularly good news, but in my case, it's better than some of the alternatives. Whenever I have a spike in my white blood cell count, my mind instantly starts running through the possible scenarios. I'm not much of a worrier, but the ramifications of metastatic diagnosis would require such a paradigm shift in the way we live that it warrants a bit of forethought. But I can shelf those dark "what ifs" again and concentrate on pushing out this pneumonia and enjoy the warming tendrils of Spring. I return to my oncologist on Monday to discuss how best to attack this infection and move forward.

How did I make it to 38 years old without noticing the strange, sickly-sweet aroma of the Bradford pear's blossoms? Our neighborhood is flush with snowy white blossoms and the smell is undeniable. Every time we step outside to walk the dog or take a walk, there's a span of aroma-confusion. There are distinct notes of sweet, but underlying, undeniable hints that are pure rank. Did something die? Did a jaguar piss on our front porch after eating a wad of stale cotton candy? There's even a pinch of a dried seafood smell mixed up in there as well. They're remarkably beautiful, but aromatically confusing.

We still have room for a few more friends to join us on our upcoming trip to the Julien Alps in northern Italy this May. If you're not familiar with tour, check out the details on the Woodbridge Inn's website, then click on the info on the right side. With gas prices in such flux, this may be the last affordable time to go to Europe for who knows how long. It's a culinary-themed tour that explores and celebrates the spectacular food from Italy, Austria, and Slovenia. The best part is, all food is included in this package, so you can enjoy all the wine & cappuccinos you can handle! We're bringing our whole family along and would love to have you join us. If you think you might be able to join us, drop me an email and I'll get some info your way.

I hope the sun is shining wherever you are in the world. Please remember to keep Japan in your thoughts and prayers. They need all the support they can get.

Gesundheit,

Hans

Another CT...

2011-03-12T08:11:00.000-05:00

Thursday night and the fever set in. Amy pushed for me to go to the emergency room, but I don't have very fond memories of the ER. So we monitored the fever through the night and I sent out some late night emails to my medical team. Friday morning and we meet with my team at Peachtree Hematology and Oncology. The pain in my shoulder/armpit is still pretty intense, and it was suggested that the pain is actually referred pain coming from another issue somewhere inside. My blood work showed an increase in my white blood cell count, which of course suggests infection. One the best educated guesses is aspiration pneumonia, which given the reflux problems I've been having lately, makes total sense.

Barium was on the menu Friday afternoon as we waited for the CT scan. I've had my fair share of barium, but I've never had to drink it room temperature. Imagine if someone spit out a piece of heavily chewed Juicy Fruit gum into a can of white paint. If that thought makes you salivate, I'll save you some room-temp barium the next time I'm line for another look inside my body. Of course we won't have any results until Monday, but hopefully the CT will shed some light on what's going on. I'm tired of combating the pain, a task which has become a constant in my life since my last surgery in late December.

Am I complaining? Maybe a little. I'd like to focus on something other than my health. Maybe when we set the clock forward tonight I can set my mental clock forward as well. I hope that Daylight Savings Time brings us all a little more sunshine.

Gesundheit

Hans

Therapy...

2011-03-08T07:43:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting in my own living room and shivering. The heat is blowing, I'm wearing 2 pairs of socks, a "hoodie" (with hood drawn), and a pair of thick flannel pants (red & black plaid, just to complete the picture). To top things off, I have a little flax seed/lavender pouch that Amy made for me to warm my painful shoulder. The pouch spends 1 minute in the microwave and then radiates warmth for 20 minutes or so. It's become my constant companion these past few days, and I don't know what I would do without it. I can no longer tolerate "cold" weather....it saps me of my strength and causes my right side to completely seize up. I know my version of cold is nothing compared to what others deal with every day, but I'm at the point where I'm dreaming of inching closer to the equator. The news is showing footage of some place in Vermont where they received 25 inches of snow yesterday. Let me be the first to officially invite those people to head south...

Today I start a round of physical therapy in the form of water exercises. Dr. York suggested that particular therapy because it helped relieve his episode of frozen shoulder (adhesive capsulitis) years ago. I'm optimistic, but I'm a little worried about the water temperature. In the last 5 years I've only been swimming a handful of times because, again, the cold sensation of water on my surgery site is just unbearable. What starts as a shiver quickly turns into somewhat of a spasm and it becomes difficult to breathe. But I'll pop on the trunks this morning and give it a go. As bad as my shoulder has been these past few days, I'd smear peanut butter on there if I thought it would somehow help.

More soon. Dress warm, be well...gesundheit!

Hans

Iron and the cold shoulder...

2011-03-05T21:29:00.001-05:00

The orthopedic surgeon my oncologist recommended skipped town, leaving me to meet with his PA on Friday morning. She seems bright, but I'm not 100% confident in her guess of a diagnosis. She was unwilling to dig through a small stack of paper on the fax machine to review my MRI report and said that report would not change her diagnosis, which essentially is a mix of adhesive capsulitis and "possibly some rotator damage". Both conditions would warrant a shot of cortisone, but in different areas of the shoulder. SO, she shoved a needle deep into two different areas within the deep tissue and pushed in the stopper. Despite the lidocaine pre-spray, the damn shot hurt...like a dull #2 pencil slowly digging into my flesh. No fun. "It may feel better tomorrow, or it may take 4 or 5 days. OR, it may not work at all. If it doesn't work, come back in 4 weeks. If it DOES work, you don't need to come back." I think she was just hoping it works so that she doesn't have to deal with me again. Not because I was sour or upset or even whiney, but because I don't believe she had much of a clue.

The Cold Shoulder

So did it work? No. The rest of the day was truly miserable. This morning I felt a glimmer of hope that my range of motion was improved, but the pain level is back up in the stratosphere. I may have screwed it up just trying to move it to see if it was improved! Frustrating. It's always interesting to have a look inside of yourself, and I've seen many X-rays over the last 5 years. If you look closely you can find surgical clips and see where ribs have been cut. It would be fun to have a sequential series of these X-rays to watch how my insides evolve, or better said DEVOLVE over time. Maybe my shoulder just hurts from all the f'ing X-rays. I have had my fair share of radiation...

And did I mention the iron infusion? Start to finish, the process took about 5 hours and it went relatively well. I always forget about the steroid component and how awful the reflux it triggers is. I woke up this morning at about 5 a.m. with my esophagus and trachea thoroughly burned from the stomach acid that decided to somehow climb upwards and spill into my lungs. I sleep nearly perfectly upright, but when I've had steroids, the toxic slurry in my gut just seems to float. It's even penetrated my sinus cavity in the past, leaving me feeling like my brain is on fire. If you've been following my medical drama for a time, you may remember a reflux episode in TX that involves a late-night run to CVS in a taxi-van littered with picked-over chicken bones. If you don't, you can read about it here.

Bag of iron...looks like Coca-Cola

The iron will make my next few days a little challenging. While my energy stores rebuild, my joints feel like a pinata at a child's birthday party...beaten and hollow. My hips and knees are feeling it now, but I imagine the rest of my body will play along tomorrow. Luckily those side-effects are somewhat short...lasting only 3 days at most. I'm not sure why the most recent infusion didn't take hold...something about my binding capacity. So my shoulder is adhesive, but not my iron? Like most gastrectomy patients, I lack the ability to absorb iron properly through my diet, so I will have to supplement with these infusions every 6-12 months or so.

Little Ella is turning 8 on the 9th, but we're having a little sleepover madness this weekend to usher in the big event. One of her guests has never stayed-over at a friends before, so we may have a middle-of-the-night check-out, but she only lives a few houses down and the parents are on standby. It's a little mental right now, but how else should an 8-year-old's sleepover party be?

I'll sign out with a little yellow burst of spring, intended especially for my friends up north. It's cold and windy here tonight, but I know it's nicer than where you are!

Be well..gesundheit!

Hans

SLEEP-OVER UPDATE: Well, it was worth a try, but our youngest guest had to bail out as the evening turned late and the raindrops grew louder. After speaking to her father, she decided to stay. Then about 45 minutes later, another round of tears and her dad returned (in about 1 minute and 10 seconds...impressive!) and took the poor girl home. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest, and I'm hoping she's deep asleep in her own bed right now. Maybe next time kiddo...maybe next time.

Adhesive capsulitis

2011-03-02T22:59:00.000-05:00

So the MRI ruled out a rotator cuff injury, but revealed something called adhesive capsulitis, or frozen shoulder. Reading the wiki definition really describes my pain...spot on. And it does hurt worse at night...and for no real reason. It turns out my iron level is way below "normal", so on Friday I'll visit with a doctor about my shoulder, then head back across Peachtree for another iron infusion. Oh boy! The iron will increase my energy, but then cause a few days of severe bone and joint pain. I've done it before and I know I can do it again.

But enough of the medical stuff for now. This spring-like weather is simply inspiring and even the dog is happy. He can be a bit mental, but the boy is loving the greening of the grass and the flittering of the birds. A happy dog makes for happy people. It's good to have that in our house right now...he's a good boy.

More soon...gesundheit!

Hans

Pleurisy? Maybe not...

2011-02-28T22:03:00.000-05:00

So I've been dealing with pain for over two months now. I hate to be a wuss, but DAMN it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to sit still, it hurts to sleep...and it hurts to type! I went in to the ER a couple of weeks ago and the doctor just went with our diagnosis of pleurisy. We mentioned that I've had problems with pleurisy in the past and the Dr. just jumped on that and said "it looks like pleurisy" and sent us on our way. But the pain has been getting increasingly severe and it's become difficult to even move my right arm, especially above my shoulder. So you know it hurts when I voluntarily reach out to my Dr. for help. That usually involves several days of Amy worrying and pushing me toward the inevitable. My shoulder and underarm were so bad last night that I sent and email to my team at Piedmont Hospital, who emailed me back promptly with an appointment to come down and see Dr. York.

Doctor York has been on my team since the initial diagnosis in 2005 and, being somewhat of a foodie, we always have plenty to talk about. In fact, most of our visits dissolve into "have you eaten over at that new restaurant..." after about 5 minutes of medical speak. But this visit was purely focused on my pain and upon full examination, the pain seems to be coming from a torn or ruptured rotator cuff. I had a ton of pain just after the surgery in my right shoulder and I remember one of the doctors on my team telling me the pain was from the awkward position my arm was kept in during the long operation.

So Tuesday I head down for an MRI of my right shoulder to try and figure out what the damage is. I'm happy it's not another blast of radiation in the form of X-rays or CT scans. Whatever the cause is, I'm ready for it to be fixed! I know I'll have other pain issues to deal with, but I'm ready to kick this one to the curb.

I've had so many people ask me lately, "Why don't you write a book?" Of course the obvious answer is, "Um...I DID write a book!" Perhaps cookbooks don't count, but I am organizing my thoughts with the intent of writing a non-cookbook book. At the same time, Amy and I are threading together ideas for a cookbook. Both projects will evolve slowly and organically, and I'm excited about the potential of each.

Time to rest...more when I have some results from the MRI. Gesundheit!

Hans

To be remembered...

2011-02-26T08:24:00.000-05:00

I had lunch yesterday at my favorite Indian restaurant, called Vatica. I've been going there for years and I'm sure I've blogged about it in the past...even mentioned them in the cookbook. The owner is a gentleman named Dhirajlal Vallabh, and he's as much a part of the Vatica experience as the food. In many ways, he reminds me of my own father...quick minded and always with a clever insult at the ready. Like my father, he has such a delightful personality that guests can't help but laugh with him as he says "Now make sure you don't come back!" as a parting shot at the door. I heard him greet a woman yesterday with, "Now who invited you? You think you can just walk in here and sit down anywhere you like??" ---dramatic pause--- Then his extra-wide smile starts to show and his large, dark eyes widen. "I guess I just invited myself honey!" she quipped back in a true, 0ld-Marietta Georgia accent. Dhirajlal sits with me throughout my entire lunch (which I consider to be a true honor), but he's quick on to his feet the second a new guest arrives or a finely-fed diner starts to collect themselves to pay. "You sure you brought enough money for all the food you just ate?" to one diner, or "Why haven't I seen you lately? Are you having an affair with some cheeseburgers?" to another guest (and Vatica is 100% vegetarian, I should add). He's a gem.

Dhirajlal was talking to me about a recent 3-week visit he and his wife took back home to India. They were there for therapy for his wife's chronic back pain and stayed in, what sounds like, a health spa. He told me that during their 3 week retreat, he befriended another Indian man who was also with his wife, undergoing treatments and massage for a similar problem. He told me that when the other couple was preparing to return home, the new friend came to him and said: "My friend, you will be remembered. Your smiles and humor are your gift to the world...to my life. I go home now to share this gift with my children and with my friends. Thank you." I think that is so tremendously moving, and as he told the story, I could see that it touched Dhirajlal deeply as well. All of us have the opportunity to be remembered, but that pendulum can swing both ways. Will you be remembered as the lady who was screaming at her child in Target yesterday? Or the man who berated his waiter at the restaurant because they were out of baked potatoes? Or will you be remembered for something larger...something timeless and true. And I don't mean "remembered" in a post-mortum sense, but just in your day to day interactions with others...how will they remember you? Of course Dhirajlal wasn't trying to make some impression on this man, but by being his genuine self, he did.

I took away something from that story. It's something that's worth remembering and reminding yourself from time to time. Each interaction you have with others is an opportunity for you to leave behind a positive memory...a tiny legacy that can inspire. The positive wave that was set in motion by some man in India weeks ago made it all the way to Georgia and crashed into me yesterday. Now I'm setting it loose here to hopefully continue on its path...

Enjoy your weekend my friends. Gesundheit...

Hans

p.s. - we still have a couple slots open if you want to join us on our Culinary Tour of Italy, Austria & Slovenia. If you're interested, please email me right away so we can put you on the list

Health vs. Food

2011-02-21T09:09:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about spinning off to a second blog that concentrates solely on food. I can't help but think there are a handful of people who read my blog because of my cooking shows or because of the cookbook. Amy and I have begun work on a new cookbook, so the time is ripe to start conversing a bit more about my culinary side. It's true that my life has become the creaking framework for one hell of a medical roller coaster and food, at times, is forced to play a supporting role.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that there really is no culling out the "FOOD HANS" from the "CANCER HANS". I teach about the connection between what we eat and how we feel, so how could I begin to separate those things? Honestly, this blog began as an attempt to capture the twists and turns of a harrowing cancer journey that seemed larger than life...larger than myself. Amy suggested I set up a Live Journal account to lock in some of those early, uncertain days and those original posts are still there. It's a surreal experience for me to revisit those posts...the fear, the uncertainty, the surgeries, the weakness, the pain...the hope. On days when I'm feeling particularly bad (which has been quite a bit lately I'm afraid), it's good for me to reconnect with "CANCER HANS" and remind myself how lucky I am to even be here.

So as our family moves forward, I think the blog will remain the odd mutt that it has always been: a mix of food, health & seemingly arbitrary observations on life. I am dealing with some massive pain issues lately, but assembling the skeleton of a new cookbook with my wife will not only be an excellent adventure, but it will also serve as a much needed mental distraction to that pain.

Another distraction that I'm looking forward to (which will also end up in this new book) is the culinary trip to Italy we're taking in March. I spent an hour on the phone with Marco Tonazzi yesterday, ironing out and piecing together the various parts of the trip. Marco and his family own a ski apparel boutique in Vail, Colorado called Valbruna, which is named after the town we'll be staying at in Italy on this tour. His family owns the Valbruna Inn, which will be our home-base there as we travel around the Julien Alps into Slovenia, Austria & Italy. We still have a couple of slots open if you and your family would like to join us? Or just leave the family and come by yourself if you like...you need the break, right? For more information on the trip, hop over to the Woodbridge Inn website.

Valbruna Inn, in Valbruna, Italy

More health and food ramblings ahead. I'm teaching a class at the Cancer Wellness Center at Piedmont West in Atlanta. I'd love to invite you, but I think we're at (or even over) capacity. But there will be more classes as my health stabilizes, and even a new cooking show for GPTV. Much to do...

Gesundheit friends,

Hans

Sprouts and blooms...

2011-02-19T08:42:00.000-05:00

The slight teases of Spring we've experienced over the last few days have inspired me to sprout. The powerful health benefits of eating health sprouts are undeniable. In particular, broccoli sprouts are have been shown to help prevent like 10 major types of cancer...a tablespoon of sprouts have more power than eating an entire head of broccoli. And they're SO simple to grow...and fun! The kids love watching the seeds burst and send forward their little curly tap root. In about a week the whole jar is FULL of tangled greens just waiting to be eaten. We enjoyed ours last night by piling them high on pizza...delicious! You can buy one of the screw-on screen tops and the sprouting seeds at any good health food store. I got mine at the Natural Market Place in downtown Jasper (lots of fun stuff in there), but I'd be surprised if your local shop doesn't have them. Of course you can buy sprouts at the grocery store, but if you do, eat them fast. They can go bad quickly and cost exponentially more than just sprouting some yourself.

As the first warnings of frost were being issued last Fall, I brought home this sad little orchid from the Inn. It had endured a harsh Summer on the back porch at the Inn and was not just at Death's door, but it was preparing to ring the doorbell. It had been set outside after it's blooms had finished and, being a miniature, it was simply overlooked and forgotten. It was so pitiful looking that even I, the eternal optimist, had little hope that it could bounce back. I think I've been in that position before...pitiful beyond hope. Perhaps just to spite me or maybe even to remind me of myself, the little orchid has bounced back and is proudly blooming in our kitchen window sill with more buds at the ready. Beautiful -

Today we're off to celebrate the life of our friend Ludlow Porch. Ludlow passed away last Saturday after months of health difficulties. He was a dear friend to our family and he and his wife Nancy could often be seen eating at the Woodbridge Inn, sharing stories and smiles with those around them. He inspired many smiles throughout his life and he will be deeply missed in our lives. Goodbye dear Ludlow...

News on my heath later. It's been an interesting week, complete with a visit to the ER. Retelling that tale might induce MORE health problems, so maybe I'll save that one for another time. But now, it's time to put on a suit.

Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

And a dash of reality...

2011-02-11T10:49:00.000-05:00

Well, my visit with my surgeon was not quite as positive as the preliminary report suggested. He came into the exam room and said, "Well, it's not time to celebrate or pop any champagne." The CT report is a mixed bag of positive and negative news. The good news was that the leak seems contained and once liquid leaks out into the fistula, it goes back into the stomach. The bad news is that there is more open space now above the are, above where the last surgery was. It looks on the scan like air bubbles or fluid/air filled pockets, and the danger of that is it is a great risk for future infection, including future brain infections. So in April we will repeat the swallow test and if we still see those pockets, maybe do a biopsy to make sure there is no active infections in any of those bubbles. The problem with my particular "brand" of infections is that they never present with actual fever, and then we don't discover them until they're so far advanced. If I do have infection, then we have to make a plan on how to move forward...do we choose the total gastrectomy and remove the entire stomach or not? And there are problems with that idea because I might leak at the NEW connection of the esophagus and the "neo-stomach" they would build out of my small intestine. The esophagus is so damaged from radiation that there may not be enough healthy tissue to make that connection. Wow...

So much to think about, but I will try not to worry about it until it's time to do so. I will just enjoy my life and enjoy my family as best as I can. Sounds like a simple plan, and one that all of us should adopt.

Much to do. Thank you for your well wishes and support.

Gesundheit,

Hans

A dash of positive

2011-02-10T00:46:00.000-05:00

I'm so tired that I cannot sleep. Insomnia decided to tag along with me on this trip, but at least I lay here with a little positive news this late-evening. I won't have full results until tomorrow, but my Doc texted me (amazing level of personal involvement) that there are definite signs of improvement on today's CT swallow study. The leak has nowhere to leak to and simply drains the liquid back into my stomach. Pretty cool. I'll know a bit more in detail tomorrow, but ANYsign of improvement is A-ok with me. Not bad eh? It looks lime that big surgery may have done the trick...nice!
Time to attempt sleep...again!
Be well my friends...gesundheit!

Hans

Texas bound...

2011-02-08T09:14:00.000-05:00

Once again I've waited SO long to update my blog that I had to look up my password. In truth, there hasn't been too much going on since my last post. The days are all about pain management, which is an unfortunate truth. When I have the pain under control, I tend to do too much and pay the price later with pain that's even harder to control. If you've followed my journey at all, you know that I'm not really one for sitting around and doing nothing. Even when I have all the time in the world to relax, I'm not sure I really know how to do that. I know how to NAP, but I don't really know how to relax while I'm awake. The best I can really hope for is distractions...things to take my mind off of the torn & broken feeling coming from my right side.

We did sneak out to Walt Disney World for a few days, and that was a wonderful distraction. They put us up at the Grand Floridian. It's a hotel that we would never be able to afford on our own, but this trip was the "reward" trip for Amy's hard work as a Disney Mom in 2010. They really did treat us like royalty and our total out of pocket cost for the trip was less than $20, door to door. After such a traumatic start to 2011, Disney was just the thing that the Dr. ordered.

I had a wonderful chat over a cappuccino with the director of the Epcot Food & Wine Festival during my visit and confirmed that I will be taking part in the 2011 Festival this Fall. On the whole, Disney does an amazing job and I think every business, large & small, could learn something from their spirit of hospitality. But if you're a "foodie" at all, you MUST make it a point to get down to the F & W festival. I don't have the exact dates yet, but it runs for 45 days, usually from the 1st weekend in October through mid-November. I hope to see you there this year.

I'm procrastinating packing for my trip to Houston today. I'm heading back for a follow up CT to see if this last surgery even worked. Did I mention that my drainage tube fell out? So we have no real way of monitoring if there's internal leakage or not. The fact that I'm not leaking on the OUTSIDE only means that the tube insertion point has healed. So today I fly, tomorrow I swallow barium, and Thursday afternoon I meet with Dr. Hofstetter to find out what's really going on inside of me. If you want to keep up with the latest updates, you can follow me on Twitter @hanscooks I appreciate all the love and support I've received from all of my friends. And we are so grateful for those of you who have contributed to my Gesundheit Fund. From the bottom of my heart...thank you.

We're making plans as if everything is going to be alright and my health issues will remain in my rearview mirror. The plans for our Culinary Tour of the Alps in May are now available online and we'd love to have you join us. We're limiting the number of attendees down to less than 20 (probably just 15 unless someone really begs), so let me know as soon as you make a decision if you're joining us. It's going to be the trip of a lifetime and I'd encourage you to bring your well-behaved children. We are!

Time to stop avoiding what I must do, and that's pack. More from Houston. Again, thank you for your support and well-wishes. It gives me strength...

Gesundheit,

Hans

A strange freedom...

2011-01-27T23:12:00.000-05:00

Iron has been infused and, as expected, the bone/muscle pain has set in. The infusion process itself is painless except for the initial IV stick. From start to finish, the whole process took about 5 hours, but the day went by fairly quickly with some fun conversations with my mom and then a special visit from my dear friend Kaedy Kiely. Kaedy is a breast cancer survivor and is a popular radio personality on 97.1 The River in Atlanta. She keeps a great blog that is totally worth keeping up with...if you can! I taught Kaedy how to play one of my favorite board games (now an iPad/iPhone game) called Carcassonne, and of course she kicked my butt. But we spent a fun hour or so catching up, sharing "war" stories, looking forward to future days of health, security & stability. Fun times. My friend Nancy Waldeck was hosting a cooking class right across the hall at the Cancer Wellness Center, but they wouldn't let me wheel across the hall to attend the class while I infused. So my mom attended the class and snuck out food for me to enjoy from the cushy comfort of my plush infusion chair. After the final drops dripped, my long-time caregiver Kathy Newman came in to pull my drainage tube by about 6 cm. Dr. Hofstetter had talked to her that morning and the plan was to, over the course of the next couple of weeks, inch the tube out gradually so that my insides can heal in stages, slowly, gradually...controlled. That procedure went swimmingly...no problems.

BUT...tonight, the tube FELL OUT! Yep, it freaking fell out! My back was hurting a bit more than usual and I noticed that a loop of the tubing was visible from beneath the edge of my shirt. When I gingerly grabbed it to show it to Amy, I was suddenly holding the END of the damn tube. I think I gave her a mini-heart attack...and one for myself too. I called Dr. Hofstetter immediately. He was a little nonplused, but eventually said, "You know, it is what it is. Let's not worry about it." Wow. Don't worry about it??? I mean, he's the man I'd want to hear that from, but it does inspire a bit of worry. We have the resulting wound covered with gauze and tape per directions, but it is weeping a bit. At least with the drainage tube in place, the leak could only go OUT. Without the tube, any fluids could find their own paths...CREATE their own paths. In truth, the tube was scheduled to be pulled on Feb. 9th, so this just speeds things up by about 2 weeks. I won't worry until Dr. H worries...or at least I'll TRY not to worry.

I'm still hurting, but it is a wonderful strange freedom to be free of the tube and the attached bulb. No more wearing undershirts with safety pins, no more rolling over onto hard plastic...I hated the thing, but this is not the way I wanted to lose it. I just hope it doesn't mess up this giant surgery I'm recovering from. I don't think I could endure that again...

My friends over at Healing Threads have asked me to shoot a little promotional video for them, and I'll work on that in the very near future. If you don't remember, Healing Threads make that WONDERFUL recovery jacket that I wore during my last hospital visit. It's a wonderful, well thought-out piece of functional clothing that I highly recommend to anyone going through any sort of surgical procedure. In fact, we just gifted one of the recovery jackets to a dear friend going through breast cancer surgery recovery. I'll post something when I make the video, but in the meantime, checkout their products and show them some love. It's a great company run by great people and I truly believe in their products.

Time for some much needed rest. Thank you for all of your continued support. Gesundheit,

Hans

Fish sticks & Iron...

2011-01-22T23:16:00.000-05:00

This cold weather is not agreeing with my pain level. I feel like a frozen fish stick that's been snapped in half. Can someone please blow some warm air this way? The weather man typically blames Canada, but I think even Canada would find this stuff too cold. I think the Arctic is to blame..

My hemoglobin yesterday tested at an 8.5, which is ridiculously low. It should be around a 12 for someone my size. 8.5 is around what it was 5 years ago when my cancer was discovered. At least that explains why I'm so weak and tired...exhausted. So I'll hook up to a bag of iron on Wednesday for a 4-hour transfusion. I think this will be my 4th or 5th one in the last 5.5 years, so I know the procedure well. It's a painless process at first, but bone pain sets in the next day and lingers on for two or three more. But then things start to improve as my body accepts the boost of iron and the energy kicks in. I'm ready for it. I'm tired of being a human slug...

I want to thank those of you who have contributed to the Gesundheit fund that was set up for me by the Talbert Family Foundation. I may not know who you are, but please know that your gifts are genuinely appreciated. The past 5.5 years have been a struggle on so many levels, but the love and support we receive from our friends, family, and even sometimes strangers has kept us afloat. Thank you, and Gesundheit.

Time for some rest. I hope to see you all at the Woodbridge Inn soon...

Be well,

Hans

Purgatory with progress

2011-01-07T17:36:00.000-05:00

So now I wait. The CT revealed that the surgery looks good, but there are two suspicious air bubbles in my back that warrant close scrutiny. In a "normal" patient, these types of post-surgical bubbles would be uneventful, but not for me. My body has turned those innocent little spots into angry abscesses in the past, so we have to keep an eye on them to keep them in check.

I had the two larger chest tubes removed today, but will be going home with the smaller one next week. You can see in the picture below (apologies to the squeamish)...the top one remains, the bottom two are OUT. Having drains pulled is usually I've had 10 or 12 of these suckers come and go over the past 5 years, so I know what to expect. But this time one of them decided to hang on for dear life. It took two Drs. to wrestle the thing free and then a healthy dose of pain meds to settle my locked muscles. Memorable.

Have I lost weight? Yes. I'm down to like 144, but they're trying to get some of that back through the use of TPN through a picc line in my right arm. I've had no food nor drink since the 28th, but rumor has it I may be allowed some liquids starting as early as Saturday. Fingers crossed! I'm seriously craving a latte. I'm waiting on the Dr. to make his Friday afternoon rounds now to hopefully shed some light on the plans for the weekend. I know I'm in for more of the same, TPN, urinalysis, wound care, etc. It's all part of the slow recovery following such a surgery. But I'm ready to come home...

I hear the doctor's footsteps...more soon.

Gesundheit,

Hans

Ready for this?

2011-01-03T06:15:00.001-05:00

It's a common courtesy question here asked by the nurses: "Are you ready for this?" The delivery can be comfortingly Southern or island tinged, but it's a question that somehow absolves my caregivers of the guilt I know they must feel when they're approaching me with needles and such. I know in my heart that they mean well, but the smart-ass in me wants to say:

-how could I POSSIBLY be ready for you to shove that needle into my belly?
-my arm looks like a constellation already...NO I'm not ready for another stick!
-you're asking me if I'm READY to have 3 syringes of saline forced up my nasal tube until I feel like I'm going to drown?
-am I READY to stand up? I feel like a freshly shucked oyster...I never want to move again!

In an attempt to somehow drive the point home, my nurse and her supervisor (an incredibly nice man named Okie who's been here the entirety of my 5.5 year relationship with MD Anderson) came in to ask me if I was ready to have my NG tube re-bandaged and secured. There truly IS no getting ready for that. In case you're not familiar with it, the NG tube (nasal-gastric) is the semi-rigid pice of pipe that runs up my nostril and down into my gastric cavity. It's one the first things my internal, post-surgery check notices when I come to after anesthesia. If I have an NG tube in place, it's one of those pure "oh hell!" moments. It's as awful as you might imagine. If I open my mouth wide enough, you can see the tube running down the back of my throat. It takes some serious getting used to, and then about the time it isn't screamingly painful and your body starts to adjust, they have to remove the tape and re-secure the whole thing. As careful as they might try to be, it's a powerfully painful combination of tape being ripped off your nose and the actual tube wiggling through your nose, down through your gag-prone throat and even into your gut. But when the question "are you ready for this?" is asked, I dutifully say yes, close my eyes and try as best as I can to relax. It's going to happen wether I say YES or NO, so why not try and resist the urge to fight and let it simply happen. The tape exchange just finished and I still have tears in my eyes. Was I ready? No. Would it have been better if I tensed up and fought it...no.

NG Tube

The NG tube makes you painfully aware of my lack of food or drink. I know I've endured MUCH longer stints of being NPO, but it's always about the 3rd of 4th day when my body simply starts to have a hissy fit. It's all I can think about, and the more I think, the more I salivate. The more I salivate, the more liquid gets suctioned through the NG tube. Of course I'm receiving all the nutrition I need through my PICC line (via TPN), but it's no substitute for the actual act of eating. When can I eat again? No idea.

Waiting on Dr. Hofstetter to make his Monday rounds is a bit like waiting for Santa Claus. He may have some good news for me, he may have no news, or he may simply have bad news.

It's now 5:05 AM and the benadryl they gave me to try and stop my painful sneeze episodes is starting to make me woozy. More soon...

Best wishes for a happy and HEALTHY 2011. Take care & gesundheit

Hans

(p.s. - I've uploaded a couple of simple little videos onto my facebook account. You should be able to view them at: http://www.facebook.com/hans.rueffert)

Post surgical scar...and YES, it hurts

Horizontal...

2010-12-27T23:44:00.000-05:00

The only time I'm truly, horizontally flat is when I'm being scanned. With my rearranged innards, flat is just not a good idea. But the only way to shove me through an MRI or a CT is face-up, flat on my back. Having a tube jutting out of my back makes the equation even more complicated. I just emerged from the CT exam and my back hates me. The good news is that my MRI came out "clean"...no current brain infection. Whew!

I wonder of the fine folks at the hospital ever lay themselves on the scanners and stare at the ceiling. Interesting stains and impressive cobwebs inhabit the most sterile feeling rooms...strange details one couldn't notice in a vertical state.

Not exactly sure what tomorrow holds. Today's CT will reveal the severity of the leak and give my surgeon a clearer sense of how to proceed. I'm ready for some answers...a plan. I'm ready to be done with it and start the new year healed and whole.

Time for some sleep. More as it becomes clear...

Gesundheit

Hans

White Christmas at home

2010-12-26T16:18:00.000-05:00

It's been so long since I've posted on my blog that I had to look up my password. Our lives have been in such flux the last few weeks that I barely know what's going on from one day to the next. We were able to enjoy a stunningly beautiful white Christmas at home before throwing our lives into suitcases and darting out the door on Boxing Day to make our way to Houston.

The leak in my stomach has worsened, so surgery is on tap for Wednesday the 29th. I'm not 100% sure I understand the specifics of the surgery yet, but I know there are no more shoulder muscles that they can harvest to attempt another muscle wrap. What's being discussed involves the removal of "4 or 5" ribs from my back so they can somehow utilize my collapsed back muscles in yet another attempt at patching the leak. This is the last stop before a total gastrectomy, a procedure that will require the removal of half of my right lung. Needless to say, we're hoping this one seals the deal.

More updates in the coming days as I'm able. We're waiting at the ATL airport for our flight. It's already been delayed an hour and the snow keeps falling. A battery of pre-op tests await me in the morning, so I hope we're able to fly. I'm not anxious for the surgery, but I am anxious to get all this behind me.

Merry Christmas friends. Enjoy your families...

Gesundheit

Hans

Aware...

2010-11-21T18:27:00.000-05:00

So November is now officially Gastric Cancer Awareness month. In the grand scheme of the disease, having an awareness month doesn't seem like that big of a deal. For those of us dealing with the disease firsthand, we are aware of it every minute of every hour of every day. The fact that our senate has cordoned off the month of November as "awareness month" almost seems a little trivial. But the truth is, despite the disease's severity and its worldwide rank as one of the more deadly cancers out there, it is somewhat overlooked in this country. Groups like No Stomach for Cancer (who were instrumental in getting the awareness month designation passed) and the Gastric Cancer Fund (a group that I work with) are working hard to try and raise awareness, promote education and prevention, and fund desperately needed research. So as families come together in November to celebrate and give thanks, perhaps a little thought can be given to those of us with gastric cancer. I was hoping to do a bit of "face time" on local television and even radio to help raise awareness this year, but I'm still waiting on my health roller coaster to settle in the station for a time. Next year...we'll make it a national effort to help put gastric cancer in the headlines.

There aren't enough months of the year to designate calendar blocks for every type of cancer the human body can contract. So what can you do? Be aware of the people around you as they march on their cancer journey. Be aware of their struggles and be there to lend a hand. Of course fiscal contributions are critical to support the continual need for research and education. But the side of the disease that these awareness campaigns sometimes overlook is the human side. For the last 5 years my family and I have been blessed to have the help and support of our friends and family, neighbors and even strangers. Be it gastric cancer or some other disease, be AWARE of your friends and family, neighbors and strangers and THEIR needs when dealing with cancer in all of its guises. You may not have the fiscal means to help, but I promise that there are ways you can help, and it starts with simply being aware.

If you'd like to join us as we attempt to raise money and awareness, we'll be holding our 2nd Annual Gastric Cancer Fund Gala on December 4th in the San Francisco Bay area. In addition to a nice meal we'll be having an auction which features some pretty sweet items, including a VIP tour of the Food Network. Last year's event was a massive success and we're hoping to trump that one with this year's gala.

I'll be attending the event just after my next barium swallow in Houston. I've had several people ask if my latest surgery worked..."Are you still leaking?" The truth is, we really won't know until I go back for this next round of tests. If the scan is clean, I'll hopefully get this tube out of my back and be done with medical drama for the year. If it's NOT clean...well...we'll cross that bridge IF we have to.

Be well...gesundheit

Hans

"I was an awful man" he said, with barium breath

2010-11-20T09:29:00.000-05:00

My relationship with barium has gone on now for over 5 years. It's nasty stuff, but it offers my medical team the best "look-see" at my insides. I won't go on about how vile the actual contrast is...you've either heard me rant about it before or had the unfortunate joy of experiencing it firsthand. Depending on the test and how far off schedule the diagnostic team is running, the process can take several hours. As time creeps by, it's hard not to get to know your fellow barium buddies, each one sipping their "favorite" flavor while flipping through some stale, dog-eared magazine. Some of them sit quietly, but others are desperate to talk to anyone who will listen. On my last visit to MDA, the waiting room was full of the more talkative variety of impatient patients. It doesn't take long before you know where they're from, what type of cancer they have/had/have again, how long they've been coming to the hospital, family history, and so on. It's interesting to hear their tales and each one story is impressive in their own right, but one remarkable gentleman's story just stood out.

If he wasn't an ex pro-wrestler, he missed his calling. He was a big man with with a well-trimmed, silver goatee and he sat quietly as he sipped his barium. At first, his wife did all the talking and I wondered if he was suffering from a cancer that compromised his speech. She informed the audience that they'd been battling his cancers (not cancer) for about 6 months. When a curious lady asked, "...well what type of cancers does he have?", the heretofore quiet man spoke up. "I have liver, lung, thyroid, bone..." and the list went on until I had to employ a finger from my other hand to total them all. Six cancers in all. I can't even remember all of the body parts involved, but I think it was a bit of a wake up call to everyone in the room, our personal tragedies seeming suddenly and altogether less significant. He and I were called back to the second waiting area together where we quietly donned our scrubs and then, turn by turn, received our IV lines. It wasn't until we were seated next to each other that he turned and asked me about my story. Feeling a little out of his league, I gave him the abbreviated version of my tale and told him about the pending "plug" surgery in the morning. "What's your name son? I'd like to pray for you in the morning." It's something we cancer-folk hear quite often, but his demeanor held a certain gravity and I could instantly imagine him in prayer, eyes clenched shut with his head bowed. He continued, "I was an awful man...a real asshole. For as long as I can remember...I wasn't nice to anybody. But these cancers have changed all that...God's wake up call." His fresh optimism was deep, earnest and sincere. He'd had his epiphany...his paradigm shift.

I don't know the gentleman's name and I truly don't know the severity of his disease. With so many tumors on his chart, I'm sure statistics are against him. But I do know that he has a solid, white-knuckled grip on that elusive silver lining we're all searching for in life. Whatever time he has left, be it 30 days or 30 years, he will be smiling in the company of his family, fighting the "good fight", inspiring others to reach for that same glimmer of optimism. Inspiration can be harvested in the most unexpected places.

Gesundheit,

Hans

Fat lip and a bad IV

2010-11-05T12:00:00.000-04:00

The post-surgery waking moments are always a little crazy. Where am I? Was the procedure successful? Where am I? Have I already asked you that? Have we seen the doctor yet? Where am I? Why is my upper lip so swollen? How long was I under? Where am I? Amy possesses a bit of saintly patience when it comes to dealing with post-surgery me. I think she was a nurse in some other life, and I'm grateful for it.

So somehow my upper lip got busted wide open during the procedure, probably when they were flipping my unconscious body over to access the back. My lip was apparently trapped between the breathing tube and the cold metal operation table, leaving me with a swollen lip that most plastic supermodels would be proud to have. It's healing a bit, but damn it's annoying. And while I'm doing a bit of venting, the IV that was in my right wrist blew out (went bad...whatever the term is), leaving my right arm sore and swollen nearly all the way up to my elbow. Swollen arm, swollen lip, but hopefully a leak-free "stomaphagus".

From what we know, the plug seems to be holding nicely. I'm still sporting a drainage tube in my back, which makes sitting back and laying down challenging. I've dealt with these JP bulbs before...they're nasty and I'll spare you the colorful specifics, but the thing does have to be emptied daily, and guess who that falls on? Yep...Amy. Luckily she doesn't get grossed out easily...

So I return in 3 weeks to have this drain removed and have a follow-up swallow study. Best case scenario, the plug created a scaffolding on which my own tissue will grow and permanently seal the hole. I like to think in terms of "best case scenarios", even when they don't happen.

If I haven't mentioned it already, November is now officially Gastric Cancer Awareness month. The folks over at No Stomach for Cancer were instrumental in getting this dedication. Their site has some great advice and tips. Of course, being a part of the Gastric Cancer Fund, I'd like to invite you to visit the GCF page as well. In fact, we're doing a fundraiser on December 4th in the San Francisco Bay area and we'd love to have you attend. If you're interested in those specifics, please don't hesitate to ask.

More soon...be well. Gesundheit!

Hans

the last fig of the season...

2010-11-01T22:46:00.000-04:00

I've been watching it for several days now, waiting for its skin to turn transform from grasshopper green to dark, cricket brown and its flesh to soften. There were a few others figs vying to be the last of the season, but those unfortunate "fruits" were either pecked apart by impatient birds or tunneled through by fidgety ants or wasps. This juicy gem was pulled apart and shared between two very appreciative children. The fig tree was good to us this year, despite the drought.

Little Ollie is learning some mad frisbee skills in the back yard. His frisbee of choice is a little too big for him to properly fetch, so he's learned to flip it back over his head like he's sporting one of Saturn's rings. It's truly hilarious. He's a good little puppy...

Awaiting surgery in the morning...distracting myself with some photos and random thoughts of home. I'm full of barium and anxious to get all this over with...again. Sleep approaches...gesundheit

Hans

The manufacture of silver linings...

2010-10-21T00:04:00.000-04:00

Yep...another surgery. Seriously? Our bruised little family simply cannot take too much more of this. Am I complaining? No...just venting. Could I complain? Absolutely! Should I complain? Well...I don't think it'll be much good. We spend a good deal of our lives hunting high and low for those elusive silver linings. There are those silver linings that you uncover and their are those that you must manufacture, stitching together seemingly pointless points of light until you have a sliver of silver to hold on to. To be honest, learning to fabricate those silver linings is a skill set that hasn't won us too many favors in life, but it helps us cope with each boulder that's flung our way. This year, the boulders just don't seem to stop coming and the raw materials for those silver linings seem more and more scarce. But we'll get through this one...we know the path by now...

So let's talk about this new boulder. The fistula in my stomaphagus is leaking again. The suspicious air bubble is still there (looking suspicious) and the most recent swallow study shows the contrast is escaping. The interesting thing is that the fistula only leaks when I'm laying flat, and I only lay flat when they're testing for a leak! But laying down or not, a leak creates a dangerous environment that allows bacteria to set up their swanky little disco parties in my back and in my brain. Bastards! The plan now (because we've exhausted all of the other ones) is to install a surgical plug into the fistula and hope that seals the deal. I'm starting to feel a bit like the Gulf of Mexico! The procedure will be both surgical and endoscopic, and Dr. H says I should only be in the hospital for about 2 days. Let's just get this thing sealed so I can start living again...please.

Onward...take care friends. Gesundheit!

Hans

the Ghost & some apples...

2010-10-10T22:04:00.000-04:00

There have always been murmurs about the Woodbridge Inn being haunted, and perhaps it is. Right now I feel like the ghost in the Inn, making random appearances, flitting through the dining room like a skinny spook and then, as quickly as I appeared, disappearing again. The antibiotic regiment I'm on is making me incredibly sick, but in random waves. I can go for a few hours feeling fine (my "fine" is relative), and then simply crash, feeling nauseous or experiencing blinding muscle cramps. As much as I resent the parasitic-feeling of a PICC line, I seem to tolerate IV antibiotics much better than the oral varieties. So I've certainly been scarce at the Inn these days, but I do enjoy seeing old friends when I come through. Hopefully my health will become a little more solid and I'll be a bit less wraith-like in the coming weeks. I'm off for more tests next week, and hopefully we'll find a happier medium that will treat my issues without creating so many more.

It's apple season here in North Georgia and it's a beautiful time to experience what this area has to offer. The Apple Festival in Ellijay is a great excuse to head up this way (going on again next week), but honestly, the best time for apple-hunting is during the week. Take the drive on 52 east from Ellijay toward Cartecay and stop at all the family owned orchards like Aaron's, R & A, Reece's, and more. Most of the apple houses have disappeared, but the handful that remain scattered in Gilmer and Fannin counties are really worth the drive.

The abundance of apples means Amy's been baking...always a good thing! The house smells of warm fruit & Sugar Baby. We've started the skeleton for another cookbook and we hope to have it out by this time next year. When most people see Eat Like There's No Tomorrow, the first thing they comment on is the photography. I think we could release a book of just her food photographs and it would be a best-seller.

Watching House...because we don't have enough medical drama in our lives.

Gesundheit!

Hans

the state of things...

2010-09-25T23:50:00.001-04:00

I know I've been remiss at keeping up the blog when 5 people inquire in a single day. We've been on such a roller coaster that I think I've lost track of when we left the station. Of course I'm happy to still be on the ride, but I'm looking forward to more of the straight, unbumpy parts and and less of the curvy, spiraling, plummeting-to-Earth moments our family has endured.

So a medical update:
The stent is removed, but the fistula persists. The tissue in my "stomaphagus" isn't as pliable as it should be, so rather than simply healing, it resists. The latest CT and endoscopy reveal that the fistula is somewhat of a dead-end...no contrast escaped it this time. The weird, puzzling news from this visit (and it seems that weird and puzzling are required ingredients in my personal recipe) is that I've somehow acquired an inexplicable pocket of air in my back at the surgery site. So the next step is to return in a few weeks for another look inside and see if I've spontaneously started growing sea-oats or sea monkeys or some other foreign object that probably shouldn't be there. It's my skill...

I'm hoping to shift the focus of my blog toward the food realm with only minor medical interruptions. It doesn't hurt to hope...

More...soonish. Gesundheit!

Hans

Training wheels...

2010-09-11T16:23:00.000-04:00

Ella has been asking me to remove the training wheels from her sparkly pink bike for a few weeks now. It started about a week before I shipped out for the hospital and it came up in several conversations while I was away. "Do you think you can take them off today Dada? Or as soon as you get back?" Several of our kind neighbors offered to remove the wheels, but I removed them yesterday. It wasn't easy for me, but I felt a tremendous sense of pride when I finally managed to wrench them free. I was still trying to push myself back off the ground and she was already flying down the driveway on just two wheels.

I feel like I had another set of training wheels removed this past visit to TX. The two JP drainage tubes were removed from my right-back side and my pain went down a good 30%. Each little victory adds up...removal of the foley, then one IV, then another, then the NG tube, and so on. I'm still sporting the PICC line and the stent which, according to the last endoscopy, looks like it's in the right place and doing its job. I've also been upgraded to soft foods, which is pretty significant for my frame of mind. Not eating for 3 weeks does start to grind away at your mood like mental sandpaper. So the plan now is to "stay the course" for another couple of weeks, and then return to remove the stent and repeat the swallow test and CT scans. There's a danger of erosion if the metal-mesh stent stays in the esophagus too long, so it's coming out on the 21st, ready or not. Hopefully then we can celebrate with something crunchy to eat!

We returned to a stack of mail so high that you could hang-glide off the top without so much as a running start. The component of health struggles that most people don't talk about is the financial one. Even with insurance, it's a full-time juggling act to keep the swarms of bills in check.

I'm still on 5 antibiotic infusions a day, plus 2000 calories via TPN overnight. I know these things are once again saving my life, but I do resent being so tethered. Of course it's better than being in the hospital, but sometimes the tangle of tubing and the piles of syringes can get a bit overwhelming. And each time medical supplies are delivered to the house we have to rearrange the refrigerator to accommodate my cocktails. We're still actively fighting the brain infection while simultaneously treating the ridiculously diverse collection of infections identified from my back. Those "back" infections were surgically cleaned out, but we have to make sure they don't return. The fact that I didn't go septic these past 5 years is truly unbelievable. Now that we finally identified the source and gone in after it, I hope my "infection boy" nickname can soon be retired.

Pain is still a constant companion and pain control is still very much an every day priority. My entire right side feels like it was hit by a small Volkswagen. Dr. H attempted to snip the nerve on the right rib to help alleviate some of that burning nerve damage I've been enduring for the past 5 years, but so far it simply hasn't worked. The epicenter of my pain, however, is the actual incision site...deep, aching, muscular pain. It's better without the drainage tubes, but a LONG way from "normal".

Beautiful rain storm this afternoon...much needed and much appreciated. A few stray melon seeds sprouted in one of our back deck planters while we were away and they're proudly sending forth a small army of tiny green fruit. We may not have enough Summer left for them to mature, but seeing the little green orbs swell makes me smile on the inside.

Thank you for your well-wishes and support my friends,

Gesundheit

Hans

Leaky me...

2010-08-31T00:19:00.000-04:00

We were jokingly calling me "Infection Boy" for the last couple of years, but in fact, "Leaky Boy" would be a better moniker. This persistent leak has been my nemesis for the past 5 years and we've had at least 5 major surgeries to try and repair it. And we're still in that boat, trying to to bail out water and patch the damn leak. I knew I'd failed the swallow test today within about 5 minutes. As soon as the scanner table went flat, it leaked. I NEVER lay flat unless I'm in some scanner or doing the swallow test. My original surgery left me without the valve between my esophagus and my stomach, so acid reflux or spillovers are a constant threat. I even sleep at a 45 degree angle! To say that we were disappointed would be an epic understatement. I'm still in so much pain from last week's "repair" surgery that more medical mayhem seems unfathomable. Amy and I truly need a break...and we need our children.

So the plan for now is for us to head home for a few days, refresh, recharge, and then head back to have a second stent installed next week. My esophagus and stomach are just so damaged from the radiation that it makes our surgeon's job difficult. But he's confident that the harvested muscle that was used to plug the abscess will, with time and protection from the stents, grow in and seal things up. So no follow-up surgeries on the immediate horizon, but it wouldn't surprise me if Dr. H wants to go back in if the second stent fails. I hope not, but after we have a little reprieve, I'll do whatever it takes to get this fixed. I was hoping to have these two drainage tubes today, but the barium-induced leak ended up escaping through the tubes and they have to stay in place. So two tubes, a PICC line (my 5th in as many years), a stent and a back full of scars are my souvenirs from this trip to Houston. Next time, I'd just like a t-shirt...

Time to get organized for the trip ahead. I'll be traveling with all sorts of infusions and medical supplies, so the TSA may raise their eyebrows at me in the airport. Be well friends...gesundheit

Hans

A walk across...

2010-08-29T01:01:00.000-04:00

We've been released from the hospital proper to walk across the sky bridge to the adjoining hotel (the Rotary House). It's more than a Hotel...more of an extension of the hospital, a place to convalesce and feel a tad more human. A place where I can sleep through the night without people coming to poke and prod me at odd hours. I'm doing the infusions myself here...6 a day, including 2 antibiotics and TPN (nutrition). So I'm a bit more free, but still tethered. I did 10.5 weeks of infusions earlier this year, so I know the routine. It's still tough right now...lots of pain...but we're out of the hospital proper.

I still have to walk across the skybridge and pass the swallow test on Monday. Dr. H is confident, we're confident, but I hate to say it...I've failed it twice already. Until then, I drink my nutrition or have it pumped into me. I miss food...dearly. I miss my kids even more. If I pass the barium swallow leak-free, home will be on the horizon. I'll still have a long row to hoe at home...infusions, Dr. visits, pain. We'll get through it. We've yet to properly celebrate my 5 years cancer-free mark and once we get this behind us, I'm ready to do that. It's been a rough year...we're ready for some HAPPY

Time to rest. Gesundheit friends,

Hans

Through...

2010-08-25T02:15:00.000-04:00

Well I made it through another surgery and once again I'm in a world of pain. It's hard to move anything on the right side of my body...and it hurts to breathe. Amy is lovingly and patiently easing me back into my fresh, post-surgical reality...untangling cords, adjusting blankets, slipping stripey socks on my cold feet...conatantly looking ahead of my every move. The groggy anesthesia haze is rapidly being replaced by sharp incision pain and deep muscle complaints. We've already walked the halls a couple of times tonight...not easy, but important. I was pleasantly surprised to be NG tube and Foley cath free...I often dread those more than the procedure itself! Their absence will make recovery that much easier.
What's next? I'm honestly not sure. We'll talk with Dr. H tomorrow and try and piece together a game plan...one that I'm sure will involve mouthfuls of barium.
Thank you for your support and kindness as our little family tries to move forward. Gesundheit friends
Hans

Wait until Monday...

2010-08-19T12:49:00.000-04:00

We won't know if the stent that was installed on Tuesday works until another swallow-test is performed,and that's scheduled for Monday. The stent is essentially a silicon tube stretched over a metal "scaffolding" that's meant to protect the leaky area from moisture and bacteria so it can possibly heal. I have another NG tube in place that runs up my right nostril and down into my stomach. It stays attached to suction to keep the area as dry as possible. It's been a week since l last had anything to eat or drink, which means that's all I'm thinking about. If I pass the swallow test on Monday, I may be allowed to have some liquids or possibly even some soft foods...fingers crossed.

If I DON'T pass the swallow test and the leak is still active, we'll have to begin discussing more surgical options. We're at the "whatever it takes" point...I'm ready for home, ready for "normal". I miss my kids, my pets, my friends, my restaurant...my life. I won't miss this NG tube, this room...this pain. It's been a bumpy road...

Gesundheit friends...more soon

Hans

A bit of a setback...

2010-08-16T21:08:00.000-04:00

The medication used to stem the pain at the surgery site is making my eyes swim like nervous dolphins, so I apologize for keeping this, and other recent posts short. The screen just makes me dizzy...

Until this afternoon, we thought the surgery was a smashing success. The "problem spot" was cleaned and filled with healthy, living muscle harvested from my right shoulder. A barium swallow study this afternoon, however, showed that I still have a leak. Not good. If nothing else, it means I'm still not allowed to eat for some time still. There's a real danger of more bacteria escaping the GI tract and creating more infection mayhem. So tomorrow I'll go in for an endoscopy to see what can be seen and possibly deploy a stint to cover the leak temporarily. It's another day of more questions than answers I'm afraid.

Eyes are jumpy...more at some point tomorrow. I'll leave you with a short video of my view of the hospital as I wander through the halls...

Gesundheit friends,

Hans

The second day...

2010-08-15T09:46:00.000-04:00

Thank goodness Amy has a good memory. All of this stuff sort of blurs into one big painful, dreaded ball to me, but she can remember the specifics and untangle the mess. As I was making my rounds in the hospital yesterday, I was feeling pain, but also a kind of euphoria...proud that I was out of bed and walking my old routes in the halls. Amy cautiously warned me "don't forget...the second day is always worse". And as usual, she's right. The pain at the actual incision site is intense and feel like a spiked baseball bat was the weapon of choice during my surgery. So I'm hitting the button on my pain meds more frequently this morning to keep the intensity at bay. I'm about to make some rounds about the halls, but probably with a little less spring in my step than yesterday...

The surgery seems to have been a success. There was definitely a leak at the original juncture, the same area that had to be repaired 5 years ago. A tiny leak was allowing bacteria to set up shop in places where they normally shouldn't reside, like in my brain or in my back. Using a piece of harvested shoulder muscle, the spot has been repaired once again. I'm due up for a barium swallow tomorrow to confirm, but fingers crossed, we've wiped out the source of the infections.

I have NO idea when we'll return, but more than likely I'll be coming home with two drainage bulbs coming out of my right side. Not comfortable, but they're effective for keeping the internal surgery site free of unnecessary fluids. I'll also come home with a game plan that will include some cocktail of antibiotics to knock out the existing infections. At this point, the specifics of lies ahead are pure speculation. For now, it's time to convalesce....to heal.

Thank you so much for all of your well-wishes...gesundheit

Hans

Surgery eve...

2010-08-13T01:02:00.000-04:00

Trying to get my thoughts together on the eve of surgery. It's been a full day riddled with dizziness, nausea, and an overload of information to absorb. Here's the game plan as we know it now:

We're scheduled for a 5:15 a.m. check in tomorrow with surgery starting shortly before 7:00. The plan is to remove two or three ribs and just a portion of a vertebrae during the laminectomy, then clean out the abscess. They will then harvest a nearby muscle to fill in that cavity. The procedure should take about 2.5 hours, give or take. Of course things may change when I'm splayed open and they can see things better.

On the infectious disease side, Dr. Adachi says all of the organisms are treatable and I'll be on a slew of antibiotics for at least 8 weeks. The alpha-strep in my brain is now resistant to Rocephin (the antibiotic I was on for the last 10.5 weeks), but there are at least 5 other options we have for it post-surgery

So both teams seem positive looking forward...good stuff. Nauseous and dizzy now...alarm set for 4:30.

I'll leave you with an image of the MDA bear they've given me to help support my chest for "cough exercises". I think Ella will tackle me for it when I finally get home...

Good night friends. Thank you for all of your support and kindness. Gesundheit

Hans

Pigeon feed & a bit of dread...

2010-08-11T20:35:00.000-04:00

Our local feed and seed carried Purina Pigeon feed for only one customer: me. My father introduced me to pigeon-keeping just after our first trip to Munich. I'd fallen in love with the curious, seemingly playful birds in Munich and was smitten when one landed on my outstretched, pretzel-holding hand (what else would a Bavarian pigeon eat?). Dad kept pigeons in his youth and was proud to pass the hobby on to me. Together we built the coop...together we trained the birds. It's a good hobby for a father and son...one that I hope to one day share with mine. Each time we came home from the feed & seed with a fresh bag of feed I would try and carry the 50 pound bag to the coop. I struggled each time...grunting...groaning... determined to overpower gravity's pull. Through the first dozen or so bags, the task fell on my father and I'd watch him fling the bag onto his shoulder as if it were an eider-down pillow. I vividly remember the day I was finally able to lift the cumbersome feed sack, waddling like a mad goose as I half dragged the lead-like bag to the birds.
"Are you sure you don't need any help?"
"I've got it dad...(huff...puff...huff...puff) I've got it."
I thought those hungry birds today as I maneuvered our luggage down the stairs. The bag weighed in at 41 pounds, 9 pounds less than the feed sack. I huffed and puffed a bit, but I did it. My strength isn't what it should be, but I take silly pride in those little accomplishments. The pigeons circling the airport didn't go unnoticed today...

Truth be told, I seem to have a solid chunk of DREAD stuck in my throat. My memories of the post-surgery fog of confusion and pain are usually tucked safely away in some hazy corner of my mind...there, but hidden. Today they're front and center. I'm so fortunate to have Amy there to guide me through that fog...a true lighthouse. It's so important to have an advocate there for you in any hospital situation. She's there to untangle the bird's nest of wires & tubes, wash my hospital-grade bedhead hair, pull up my slouching non-slip socks...to hold my hand.

More soon...gesundheit

Hans.

Surgery on the near horizon...

2010-08-10T00:31:00.000-04:00

The preliminary biopsy results came back with a trifecta of infections. We're still waiting on the final results on which exact strains they are, but we know two are fungal (one a yeast) and the other is a gram-negative bacteria. I got the phone call on Saturday from our surgeon's PA. The pathologist was so concerned that he called her at home on a weekend night to relay the results and she, in turn, phoned me. If you Google the term Gram Negative, you'll find some pretty frightening stuff. Of course we don't know what particular flavor of bacteria yet, but it's in the same family as those scary ones for sure. Whatever the case, it needs to be removed. The theory is that this pocket in my back (near the lung) is the source of the brain infection and if we knock out the source, the brain lesions will subside. From what we know now, I'm on schedule for a laminectomy. That procedure is typically for spine problems (from what we can gather), but this will be to simply get access to the infected area. We have more questions, but those won't get answered until our consult with the surgeon on Thursday. At least we have a plan and we're confident in this team of physicians...they've saved my life two times before. On Friday they'll crack me open and see what's what.

I'm scurrying to ready myself for the trip...charging batteries (must have my gadgets!), paying bills, etc. The anticipated hospital stay is 5-7 days, but we were told that in 2005 and ended up there for nearly 8 weeks. We're going to pack along some Earl Grey tea this go around and I'll try and grab a few movies from iTunes to watch on the laptop. The days can be long in the hospital, especially when you're in pain.

Half asleep...more as I know more. Another medical adventure begins...

Gesuneheit

Hans

Poked, prodded & un-PICC'ed

2010-08-07T11:24:00.000-04:00

The needle couldn't have been much longer unless they intended to make me a kebab. I think they could've run it straight through me if they tried, but luckily they didn't. I was under a bit of sedation, but not so much that I wasn't fully aware of the procedure. I even joked with the Dr. as she withdrew a couple of syringes worth of yuck from the targeted abscess in my back. (If you're squeamish, you probably shouldn't read my blog after any of my medical procedures.) The yuck in question wasn't pretty...the kind of color that's still sharp in the box of crayons when the others are worn to nubs. I'll leave it at that...

Now we wait to see what they culture from the tissue. There's a chance that the 10.5 weeks of antibiotics I just finished will ruin the chance of a proper culture. There's also a chance it was isolated enough that we'll find a match with the strain that's in my brain. Whatever they find will determine which path we head down in the near future. Again, I'm truly not sure which road we're hoping for, but I'm sure with my ace team of physicians, we'll pick the right one.

In other health news, my PICC line was removed yesterday. It feels good to have two proper arms and I can shower again without wrapping my left arm in a plastic sleeve. The blue plastic sleeves are cut from bovine examination glove...yes, that's right, those gloves they use to stick their arms pit-deep in a cow's...well, in whatever they're examining in the cow. I made the "I think I've seen those blue gloves on Dirty Jobs" comment at the infectious disease office and they said simply, "Yep! These are THOSE gloves". Gotcha...

My back still feels like there's a pencil in there, but I'm so happy to be home. Someone must've told the fig tree I was heading home and it was waiting for me with a crop of several dozen fat figgies. There were folks selling figs at the farmer's market this morning, and I can't imagine ever parting with my figs voluntarily...even for cash. We came home from the market with a yellow watermelon, red okra, sweet banana peppers & fresh corn. Looking forward to it all...

Gesundheit

Hans

Home...for now

2010-07-31T00:35:00.000-04:00

Five years cancer free! Amazing sigh of relief here for my entire family, let me tell you. But while I did receive another NED (No Evidence of Disease) it seems I may still have some medical miles ahead of me. My team at MD Anderson believes they've found the source of my brain infections. I have an abscess in my back near my right lung which has refused to heal since 2005. It's been infected a couple of times and they even stuck a drainage tube in it a few years ago (you may remember that drama if you follow the blog). To make a long story short, the theory is that the infection originates somewhere near, or even in my lung, enters the bloodstream, and then camps out in the brain. Well, if they biopsy this problem spot in my back and find the same bacteria, then we have a strong connection there. So I have to fly BACK to Houston on Wednesday for a biopsy on Thursday. If they find the bacteria or at least evidence of it, I'll be heading towards a pretty big surgery to take care it. The procedure will involve going through the back, removing a segment of a rib and "scooping" out the infected spot. Then a plastic surgeon will finish up by harvesting a nearby muscle to make a living patch. This biopsy next week will determine if we have to go ahead with that surgery, so honestly I'm not really sure what I'm hoping for. I don't want another surgery, but we all agree that we have to find and eradicate the source of these brain infections. I've made if this far and I don't want some brain bubbles to end my ride too soon...

Tired beyond words. Thank you for 5 years of support, love & friendship. Gesundheit!

Hans

Tomatoes and Houston...

2010-07-24T08:52:00.001-04:00

Late July finds "Opa's Garden" nearly exploding with feral tomatoes, literally hundreds of them ripening every day. I only had time to plant six proper plants before my hospital adventure this spring, but our restaurant compost coupled with rogue seeds from Joe's modest garden last year fueled a tomato coup d'etat like no other in history. If you're a regular diner at the Inn, don't be surprised to find some tomatoes on your plate. I'd rather you have them than the fruit flies and there are simply more than our little family can eat!

10 of 1,000 tomatoes

I'm off to Houston for my 5-year cancer checkup next week. This is pretty monumental stuff for our bruised family. I wish that Joe was here to help us usher in this milestone. Of course I shouldn't count my chickens before they hatch, but if the scans are clean, I can officially be considered in remission...a survivor. We've been living our lives in little 3 or 6 month increments since 2005...holding our breaths between tests, crossing our fingers and toes. I will, of course, post some news from Texas from Twitter (those updates can be seen at the right side of this blog as well).

In other health news, I'm now in my 8th week of Rocephin and it's starting to make me feel like a zombie. The headaches are still a constant companion (unwelcomed) and I've been hit with solid bouts of nausea and fatigue. My friend Joshua suggested that I'm pregnant, but I think we've ruled that out as an likely scenario. The ID Dr. recommended that I "muscle through it" one more week, and so I will. We've also discovered that I have some immunoglobulin deficiency, but to be honest, I'm not really 100% sure what means yet, other than we may be on the trail of the reason I'm so susceptible to these brain infections. More tests to follow, but at least there's some semi-solid theory floating now. It doesn't help my day-to-day discomfort, but it's another bulb in the light at the end of the tunnel...

I'm sitting on my back deck with a cicada loudly chattering above my head. I'd typically think he/she was trying to attract a mate, but this morning I think it's laughing at our cat Persia...and so am I. Persia likes to stretch out at the top of our children's Smurf-blue slide and this morning, she stretched a bit too far. I heard a sharp little "meow!" and down she went like a small sack of potatoes, her eyes as wide as the horizon. She's perfectly fine...just momentarily shaken. Crazy Persia...

Persia...at the bottom

Be well my friends. Cross some fingers for me for next week...

Gesundheit!

Hans

the Lost Machine...

2010-07-19T23:09:00.000-04:00

If you've been following my blog for any length of time, you're probably familiar with the work of my dear friend Richard A. Kirk. We've been working together since 1995 and he's responsible for the beautiful "survivor" tattoo that permanently swims on my back. I'm incredibly proud of his latest professional accomplishment, a novella entitled "The Lost Machine". I was fortunate enough to read the original version of this story and his prose is as intricate, delicate, and detailed as his artwork. You can (and should) pre-order the book directly from his website. Be sure to check out some of his artwork while you're there. I'd also recommend following his blog.

Joe's 70th

2010-07-15T09:25:00.000-04:00

Today would've been my father's 70th birthday. I could easily fill a book with anecdotes about Jochem "Joe" Rueffert, and perhaps one day I will. I always assumed him too damn stubborn to die, and it times it truly doesn't seem real.

I spoke with my Uncle Wolfgang yesterday (Joe's older brother). He was calling to wish me a happy birthday from above the Polar circle in Norway. They're working their way south to meet with my cousin (his son) Lutz and family. Dad and I met up with Uncle Wolfgang in Norway back in 1999 when Amy was pregnant with Finn. It was a trip we'd talked about for years, but for some reason it just kept getting pushed back. We spent two weeks fishing, mushroom hunting, and generally absorbing the beauty that is Norway. My father wasn't feeling particularly well on that trip, and in truth, he usually wasn't. His health had been a bit like the stock market since his kidney illness was first diagnosed...sometimes up, sometimes frighteningly down. Yet he pushed on, not only on that trip to Norway, but on several "this is my probably my last trip" excursions afterwards. There's no question I inherited my sense of wanderlust from him...always looking toward the next destination. Because of him I've never feared travel to foreign places...in fact I crave it.

Joe's life was truly cut short, but I honestly believe that he lived more in those 69 years than most people ever will. Happy Birthday dad...

Gesundheit,

Hans

The whole hog...

2010-07-11T07:23:00.000-04:00

So the kids and I were rolling up towards Out of the Blue in Blue Ridge on Saturday and decided to stop off at the Benton-MacKaye trail site for a quick look for chanterelle mushrooms. I'd been there with my friends Huitt and Chad a few years ago and we were successful at finding the sometimes fickle golden mushrooms. It had been somewhat of a tradition for my father and I to go foraging every year near our birthdays (mine's the 13th, his was the 15th) and in recent years, the kids would come along. They both love to "hunt", but Ella's still a bit unsure about actually eating them. That's fine...more for the rest of us! Depending on the Summer's rain, sometimes we'd come away with baskets full and other times we'd come away with nothing. Either way, we'd always come back with some fresh adventure to recall. We've seen wild turkeys, deer, grouse, woodpeckers, interesting spiders, and beautiful trout gliding through pristine streams. On this particular stop, we saw something a bit different.

The Benton-MacKaye trail stretches 300 miles from North Georgia all the way up through Tennessee and North Carolina. There are dozens of roadside access points along the way, and apparently the one I picked this Saturday was NOT the one I'd been to previously before. We pulled off the main road and immediately on to gravel. It looked promising enough, the road cut deep with sloped, semi-sunny/shaded sides, the perfect environment for our quarry. The gravel road made a turn or two and then simply dead-ended into a small cabin's driveway. Realizing I'd picked the wrong road, I decided to turn around, but the only way to accomplish that would be to utilize that driveway. Ten feet into that turn, we spotted (and were spotted by) a large man in overalls. He waved to us with blood-stained hands and threw his butcher knife into a nearby bale of hay. Yep...I'd made a wrong turn! Hanging from a tree branch in front of him was the largest black-furred hog (or boar?) I'd ever seen, it's throat cut and it's rear hide already removed to mid-torso. The man greeted us warmly and told us that he, in fact, lived at the edge of the trail , but one of the more "boring" parts of it. After washing his hands, he handed us a trail map and suggested a waterfall area nearby that we should try, perfect for the kids to get out and hike a bit. He was genuinely helpful and kind, but the kids didn't seem to notice him. They kept staring at what he'd been working on before we unintentionally interrupted him. Goodbyes were exchanged and we were escorted back up the road by the man's dog, a beast as large and as black as the one that hung half-skinned in the tree before his master. No mushrooms in our basket this time, but another "adventure" to add to our collection. As we approached the highway, a turkey hen crossed the road and hopped into the nearby brambles...

The JULY edition of the Woodbridge Inn newsletter is out. If you're not signed up for it, you can do so at the bottom left of the Woodbridge website. I love it when people actually take the time to write back when they receive the newsletter. I wonder how many other businesses have customers like that?

Last thing: our Germany culinary tour is being rescheduled to Spring. We had 15 people signed up, but with my current health situation, it's best to postpone and hit the alps when my health has returned. If you can, think about joining us. I'll post details as soon as I know them.

More soon, including some thoughts and news about the pending new television show we'll be shooting this Fall for 2011.

Gesundheit

Hans

Opa and the kids hunting Chanterelles a few years ago...

July 8th, 2005

2010-07-08T22:55:00.000-04:00

The night before had been a long, debate-filled night. Amy had been insisting that I go to the doctor since my return from the Next Food Network Star finale in New York. I'd been incredibly weak for days, but I was convinced my body was simply exhausted from that stress-filled adventure. On the night of July 7th, Amy threw a "hissy fit" trying to convince me to go to the hospital. I was truly weak, but I had enough umph to fight back, insisting that I'd go to the Dr. if things got worse. The next morning I felt fine and hit the road toward work in Ellijay. After lunch, things went downhill fast. I called Amy and told her I would leave work early and go to the Dr. By the time I left work, I was so confused, weak and disoriented, but insisted to my coworkers that I could drive myself to the Dr.'s office. A few minutes into the drive, I felt the left side of my body going numb and my mind was just shutting down. I called Amy and she insisted I pull over and dial 911. I rolled into the scenic overlook parking lot, the 911 operator talking non-stop. She was still talking when the ambulance arrived, but I wasn't able to answer her. As the ER guy shoved the IV in my arm, he looked at me and said "Man, you got SCREWED on the Food Network!" I gave him a silent smile as my eyelids grew heavy. I saw my father's Mercedes cut across the highway median and pull in behind the ambulance. He followed the truck to the hospital where Amy was waiting. And there begins my health journey...my cancer story.

You can read Amy's post about the same event on her blog from 2006, one year after that day. Now we're five years on and getting ready for my 5-year cancer checkup. Life has thrown me several more curve balls, but July 8th, 2005 was truly one of the most frightening days of my life. And things have never been the same since...

Many of you have been on this "ride" from the beginning, but if you haven't, you can read the play-by-play as it unfolds on my old LIVE JOURNAL blog. It reads backwards, with the oldest posts at the bottom of the thread. It's interesting for me to go back and read those posts, as many of them I simply don't remember. I'm glad Amy suggested I start the blog...I'm thinking I should trust her intuitions bit more often. The girl has saved my life more than once! She had to throw another "hissy fit" to get me to go to the hospital this time and I'm so happy she did

More from me soon...gesundheit friends

Hans

July and beyond...

2010-07-03T08:06:00.000-04:00

As it turns out, my 56-day long series of antibiotic infusions is set to end on my 38th birthday, July 13th. That would be some memorable birthday gift, but we're fairly certain the treatments will be extended for another few weeks. Looking back, the same thing happened last year with that round of infections. And given that my MRI from this week showed all lesions still intact (albeit reduced), there's a good argument to keep this treatment going. The headaches are still explosively painful, but I think the light at the end of the tunnel has finally been turned on again. The Dr. switched a few medications around and I'm starting to feel a bit more human again. I'll still be shying away from loud noises for a time, so no siren-filled parades or fireworks in my near future. But Happy Independence Day (he says quietly...)

They end of July brings my next big health milestone in the form of my 5-year cancer checkup at M D Anderson. This is the mark we've been aiming for since my initial gastric cancer diagnosis, and there were certainly times that 5 years seemed an impossible goal. Statistically, it's certainly a long shot and sadly, I've lost several of my gastric cancer friends along the way. A clean checkup at this 5-year visit will hopefully put is back in "planning our lives" mode. The chance of recurrence is so high in those first 5 years that it's sometimes hard to dream, to plan, to simply live. Of course we'll always have the shadow of cancer in our lives, but hopefully that shadow will wane as we move forward.

The hardy kiwi vines at the Inn are loaded with fuzzy little, rock hard fruits. Amy and I purchased the plants for our little bungalow in Tate some 10 years ago when Finn was just a tiny baby. When we moved from the house, we brought the kiwi vines with us and my father planted them on the Woodbridge property, using the old iron porch supports from that bungalow to prop them up. The vines are now strong and vigorous and finally (FINALLY!) producing an impressive crop of fruit. When you walk the property at the Woodbridge Inn, almost every plant has a story...a history...deep roots. The next time you visit, come a little early or stay a little late, but take some time to explore the grounds. I need to write a bit for the July newsletter for the Inn. If you're not a subscriber, take a moment to sign up and you'll get this newest edition in just a few days.

Enjoy your weekend...be safe, and Gesundheit,

Hans

A family of chipmunks...

2010-07-01T23:31:00.000-04:00

"So how does your head feel?"

Pain is an interesting thing to try and describe, especially when you're using your brain to try and describe your brain pain.

"Well, the pressure feels like I have a family of chipmunks living inside my head, and the headaches feel like one of the chipmunks is angry and trying to gnaw his way out of my skull."

I think Dr. Stuart was expecting more of a traditional answer...maybe something not involving furry rodents. But he was pleased to reveal that the MRI on Wednesday revealed no chipmunks, and the lesions continue to reduce in size. The swelling (edema) around the spots has increased a little, and that's what's causing the increase in brain pain. He's switched some meds around to try and help manage the pain flair-ups and it seems to be working. Today was the first day I felt a little human again with the angry chipmunks calming down from time to time.

Tomorrow: another day, another Dr. appointment, this time with infectious disease. I met a lady last week that does 7 infusions a day, which makes my 2 a day seems a bit amateurish. She was smiling and optimistic. I'm not sure what her ailment is, but she knows she's in the right place to eradicate it, and so do I.

More soon...Gesundheit friends,

Hans

Another MRI

2010-06-29T09:09:00.000-04:00

I'm about half way through the 8 week Rocephin infusion schedule that's meant to slowly but steadily knock out the infections in my head. Unfortunately, the last week has been rough with increased pressure and pain, specifically behind and just above my right eye. So the new plan is to move my next scheduled MRI up a couple of weeks to tomorrow so we can have a look inside. Increased pain may simply be the result of edema (swelling) around the shrinking abcesses...the same thing happened last year with that round of infections. Hopefully we'll have some answers soon and find a way to relieve some of the pain.

My hospital stay and continuing health issues mean that the garden we planned in memory of my father ("Opa's Garden") has gone a bit wild. The rich compost we worked into the soil was full of tomato and various squash seeds that have exploded, filling every inch with rambling vines now studded with blossoms and tiny fruits. It's a garden of reckless abandon, but that's truly the way Dad gardened. He never had the heart to cull or thin stray seedlings, even when they popped up in the most inconvenient places. So we'll enjoy a wild garden this summer and hopefully get organized in time for a Fall planting.

More soon. I'll post MRI news as I have them. Come & see us at the Inn
Gesundheit
Hans

Oh the brain...

2010-06-16T22:52:00.000-04:00

It's interesting to watch my neurologist's facial expressions as he looks over my MRI. I can tell he's hiding a bit of professional excitement as he examines the images and report. As a scientist, it has to be interesting to get such a rich, unusual, abscess filled scan when you're used to seeing "normal" brains every day. But as a caregiver, he sees the severity of the situation and understands that I'm in pain. I genuinely like my neurologist...he gets me. He told me, "Hans, if I just looked at this MRI and wasn't sitting here talking to you, I'd assume the patient in these scans was somehow severely mentally compromised. With this many spots, in your brain it's easy to suspect that you'd have memory loss, slurred speech, or even loss of vision." I may have some random memory loss, but my main issue is vicious, skull-splitting headaches. The Dr. switched some meds around and we're trying out something new to try and get the pain under control. Fingers crossed...

Our little Rat Terrier is home and we've named him Ollie Blue. Ollie has been a much needed injection of happiness into our lives...a true bundle of joy. Of course being a puppy, there are some challenges, but so far he's meeting them all with flying colors. Our cats are still trying to figure out what the hell is going on, but so far, no major squabbles. The kids are over the moon...

We took little Ollie for a walk around the neighborhood tonight, something he needs a little more practice with. As we walked under a rain-soaked Crepe Myrtle, I reached up and flicked a heavy blossomed branch, showering Finn with an unexpected spray of chilly rainwater. "Why did you do that?" Finn asked, laughing in surprise. "I did it because my father always did that to me." It's true. Sonja and I quickly learned to walk briskly under watery limbs, but we still received our share of showers. Ella said, "Opa still does that to us!" And then you could see the reality of Opa's absence sink in..."Well, he USED to do that to us." As Father's day approaches (our first without my father), I'm proud my children have so many memories of him. I have a lifetime of them and I'll continue to share those memories with his grandchildren...and they are GRAND children. And he was a GRAND father...

Time to rest...gesundheit

Hans

My least favorite...

2010-06-13T09:08:00.000-04:00

Friday held two doctor appointments, one with the ID group, and one with the dreaded ENT. The ID visit was enlightening and we discussed the MRI at length. The scan shows an improvement in each of the 12 lesions, but an increase in the edema surrounding each spot. The increased edema explains my spike in headaches (brain-pain)...the same thing happened last year. So I'll be on the Rocephin for at least 5 more weeks, with MRIs in-between to keep an eye on things. With some luck, these excruciating headaches will subside as "bubbles" in my skull dissipate. So the next obvious question is, how do we prevent this from happening again? I don't want this to be some annual Spring ritual. It's like the Easter Bunny is hiding eggs in my head rather than the backyard...

Next stop, the ENT. My last visit to the ENT was for the removal of the packed gauze from my sinuses. As I mentioned earlier, that was truly miserable. So when the Dr. walked in the room on this follow up visit, I said, "Now the last time you really hurt me. Any tricks up your sleeve this time?" I should've learned last time that his "no...this won't hurt" doesn't mean a damned thing. Within 1 minute of me sitting in the chair (much like a dentists chair) he had a long, skinny, chop-stick sized vacuum crammed up my right nostril. And not just in my nostril, but jabbed all the way into where I thought my brain lives. Damn. Of course he followed that move with a trip up my left nostril with similar, knuckle-whitening results. Another ENT visit with uncontrollable tears running down my face. Afterwards, my nose started bleeding like a waterfall, so he jammed some mist tube up my nose and started spraying this awful medicine up there to stem the bleeding. I don't know what it was, but it sent me on a dizzy spell that lasted for about 6 hours. Plus the excess "medicine" that he sprayed trickled down the back of my throat and made me incredibly nauseous. In short, the ENT is my least favorite Dr. at the moment. Hopefully I'm done with him...forever. My nostrils need a little vacation...

I'm writing this with a little bundle of puppy sleeping right next to me. He's in a deep sleep and he's twitching like he's chasing some imaginary critter in his dreams. His name is Ollie and he's a rat terrier...the newest member of our family. The kids are over the moon with excitement and Ollie has a great personality. We needed a little injection of happiness around here. I like to think of myself as an eternal optimist, but this recent round of medical issues let me feeling a bit depleted...frustrated. I've been put through the ringer over the last 4.5 years (no violin music please) and each time I think it's all behind me, I find I'm still in the thick of it. I'm so fortunate to have such an incredible support network of family and friends. Poor Amy has been dealing with Mr. Sick for so long, but she remains strong...my anchor in this storm. We're so lucky have an amazing crew at the Inn that can take care of things during this medical "adventure"...one less thing to worry about. They're pulling double duty and the feedback I'm getting is amazing.

Speaking of the Inn...
People keep asking me what they can do to help while I convalesce. Honestly, the best thing to do is come out and eat at the Inn. If the Inn is busy, the rest of everything just falls into place. We recently launched our new Club 1880 membership program and it's being met with great enthusiasm. I won't go on about the details here, but you can check it out in our last NEWSLETTER. If you're not signed up for the newsletter, you can do so from that link.

Time to unhook my infusion. Gesundheit friends...

Hans

A birthday and an MRI

2010-06-09T23:04:00.000-04:00

June 9th - If cancer had stayed away, my sister Sonja would have turned 41 today. I'm older now than Sonja ever was, which will never sit well with me. Of course cancer invaded our family again with my diagnosis just one year after she lost her battle with the disease. I was so ignorant about her disease, her struggles, her suffering. Of course I was worried...distressed...sad. I was sympathetic, but not truly empathetic. I think of Sonja everyday...her lightning quick, rapier sharp wit was truly uncanny. I like to think that I'm quick-witted, but I'm a poor understudy when compared to her. Here's one of my favorite Sonja stories: One Sunday at the Inn, we were totally slammed with no end in sight. People were lined out the door when a local pastor came in asking for a table.
"How many in your party?" Sonja asked, a bit huffy, but still on the fence of being polite.
Smiling broadly with a gleam in his eye, the pastor replied, "There'll be three of us: me, my wife, and Jesus!"
Without so much as a blink, Sonja replied, "Well Jesus is going to have to wait in the car because I only have a two top!"
Classic Sonja...

I had a follow up MRI this morning to assess the effectiveness of the antibiotic treatments I'm on. We're working under the assumption that we're dealing with another Strep infection. But without a biopsy, there's no way to be 100% sure. So if the MRI shows a reduction in the size or number of the lesions, then we're on the right track. If not...well, we'll cross that bridge if we get there. Of course no results on the MRI yet...hopefully Friday.

Exhausted...time to snooze. Be well..gesundheit

Hans

Sinus...no fun

2010-06-02T23:50:00.000-04:00

"Will this hurt?" The Ear/Nose/Throat Dr. was nice I suppose, but no real bedside manner. He led us to believe that my sinus surgery would be incredibly simple and that I'd be going home just after the procedure. That was simply NOT the truth. They kept me another night in the hospital and I was in horrible discomfort. So when I went in to have the "packing" removed from my sinuses (basically long strips of gauze), I don't know why I thought asking "Will this hurt?" would yield a truthful answer.

After assuring me it wouldn't hurt, he rammed a pair of hemostats so far up my right nostril that I truly thought he was going to gouge my brains out. He grabbed the end of one piece of gauze and pulled. It was so incredibly awful that I couldn't stop the tears from streaming from my eyes. It was about 3 feet of gauze and the very end felt like there was a tennis ball attached. Before I could even catch my breath, the hemostats plunged back up my nostril for the next piece. There were two long strips in each nostril, all of them crammed WAY up in my sinus cavities. Of all the medical things I've endured, that ranks pretty high on the pain scale. Just awful...

The bright side is that my sense of taste/smell has returned. I was really afraid I was going to lose that permanently. Since he corrected my deviated septum, I'm breathing much easier now. The point of attacking the sinuses in the first place was to unblock my right sinus that was infected/blocked. The theory is that my current brain infection may have crossed the blood/brain barrier through that sinus cavity. There's no real way to definitively answer the "where did it come from?" questions, but that seems like a plausible hypothesis. They're working under the assumption that my infection is the same bacteria as last year. We'll know when I go for the next MRI. If the lesions have reduced in size, we're on the right track. If not...well...we may have to biopsy one of the lesions No fun...

Time to rest. This episode has been very difficult on my family, as you can imagine. Thank you all for your continued support. Gesundheit,

Hans

Home...

2010-05-28T22:58:00.000-04:00

What a long day. I finally escaped the hospital around 2:00, just in time to go across the street to the Infectious Disease office to pick up my first week of antibiotics. I'll be infusing just like I did last year using those pressurized spheres, twice a day. I'll be tethered to the PICC line and infusions for at least 6 weeks. No fun, but it's our game plan to eliminate the bacterial infections in my brain. I'd like to think that the infusions I've had this week are already done a bit to reduce the pressure in my skull. I was doing so well before this sinus surgery, and now I'm miserable, bleeding, and I have 10+ feet of gauze crammed up my right sinus. Yuck.

But I'm incredibly pleased to be home. There's no substitution to ones own bed. Hopefully this crazy sinus pain will dissipate fairly quickly. Thank you for your kind words of support. Gesundheit!

Hans

Seeing Red...

2010-05-27T21:43:00.000-04:00

A thin but steady trickle of bright red blood continues to flow from my nose. I've gone through about half a dozen gauze pads and am probably due up for another. I'm still in the hospital, despite plans to the contrary. This sinus surgery was much more intense that I would've imagined. The Dr. cleared the blocked sinus cavity (which was 100% blocked), removed several polyps, and straightened my deviated septum. That's all well and good, but it freaking hurts and just won't stop. The pain meds are making me a little shaky & nauseous, so this will be my shortest blog entry to date. Fingers crossed we go home tomorrow...

Until then, gesundheit!

Hans

Not today...

2010-05-26T17:05:00.000-04:00

Well, no escape for Mr. Brain Bubbles today. We'd already packed up are were waiting for the Dr. to write discharge instructions...Amy had packed the car and I'd even put on my blue jeans! Then our infectious Dr. came in with another attempt to solve the "Where are these infections coming from" dilemma. The first CT showed that my right sinus cavity is infected, so the plan now is to scope that sinus, possibly drain it and even correct my deviated septum while they're up there. There's a chance that the bacteria from my sinus "escaped" to set up shop in my brain. Not sure what time that test/procedure will be tomorrow, but whatever the case, I'm stuck in the hospital for another day.

The tough thing for me is that we're literally walking distance to so many good restaurants, yet they won't let me have an afternoon pass to eat something other than hospital grub. Apparently the telemetry pack I have on my chest complains every time Amy and I take a small walk. I can't complain though...the staff here at Piedmont has been top notch and exceptionally caring. I'm just getting stir crazy...

I had my PICC line installed today in my left arm. This will EVENTUALLY enable me to do the infusions of Rocephin from home. It's annoying, but not nearly as annoying and painful as brain emboli. If nothing else, it'll make me sit and relax for 2 hours each day.

And now we wait...until tomorrow! Here's hoping we knock things out first thing in the morning so we can truly go home. I miss my kids...

Gesundheit my friends,

Hans

Bubbles...to go

2010-05-25T21:26:00.000-04:00

I have been subjected to the full arsenal of scans and probes today, but it seems it was worth it. We suspected the swelling in my back to be spinal fluid leaking and collecting just above my belt line. It's been swollen and tender for the last couple of days, so the plan today was to MRI that region since I was already scheduled to be in the MRI tube for my brain. The test simply showed some arthritis in that area, similar to the radiation inspired arthritis in my hips. So one less thing to worry about...

The MRI of the brain showed no real changes, which is actually good news. Of course it would be nice to see all of the emboli disappear, but the Dr. had told us that as long as the spots weren't larger, we're in good shape. It may take a few weeks before we would notice any significant reduction in the lesions on an MRI. As we learned last year, the swelling surrounding each spot takes quite some time to resolve. Clinically, I'm doing better. The headaches are a little less intense, and I actually get some temporary relief from the medications. Bright lights and loud noises are still a major issue for me, but if things follow last year's path, that will improve with time.

The mystery here is how exactly did the infection cross the blood/brain barrier and setup shop again? It's one thing to treat the existing infections, but it's another to PREVENT them from coming back. You know last year, they told me I had a 2% chance of surviving my stomach cancer, but there isn't a number small enough to express how small of a chance I had of surviving this brain infection. And now it's back? I'm tired of playing those odds, plus...this stuff HURTS! One theory is that the bacteria was able to make its way up from an infected sinus cavity. Last year, the guess was that the infection came after a particularly bad esophageal bleed. I'm not sure if either are accurate, but I'm afraid that every headache from this point forward it going to raise the "infection?" question. And this stuff develops quickly! A March MRI showed no spots, then May shows 12-14 well defined lesions. Of course all of the Dr.s assume cancer because of my history. I wouldn't wish infection on anyone, but it's a better prognosis than brain cancer for sure. We have a game plan to attack the emboli head on, and hopefully we'll develop a plan to keep future infections at bay.

Time to rest...or at least try to grab some of the hospital's syncopated version of sleep. With any luck, tomorrow will have me in my own bed in my own home. Of course I'll have a new piece of hardwire installed in my arm, but it'll be worth it to be HOME.

Be well my friends...Gesundheit

Hans

Testy...

2010-05-24T22:08:00.001-04:00

We're still in the hospital while my teams of physicians try to get a handle on these infections. I've had an MRI of my heart today, as well as an X-ray on my lower back. The MRI showed a little thickening on one of the heart flaps, but nothing that would indicate an infection there. I have some swelling in my back close to the spine, which is tender, but not crazy painful. The X-ray on the lower back was inconclusive because of some residual barium in my system, which essentially blocks any view of what might be causing the swelling.

Tomorrow starts with an MRI of the brain to see if there's any change in my garden of brain bubbles. We've been told to not expect much in the way of improvement/reduction, but as long as the dozen or so emboli aren't larger, we'll know we're on the right track. If they ARE larger, we may be looking at another brain biopsy, which is pretty high on my long list of medical things to avoid. But, if that's what it takes, so be it. Also, some sort of dental specialist will be doing a study with me to make sure this infection isn't coming from some hidden tooth issue. It's another attempt at finding the bridge that allows this infection to make its way across the usually-sterile blood/brain barrier. It's one thing to try and attack the existing emboli, it's another to PREVENT them from happening again. I truly don't want this to be an annual occurrence...no fun.

The headaches are still seriously intense, but not as bad as they were when I first arrived. Hopefully that means the antibiotic is starting to work its magic. I'll try and update things tomorrow after the next round of tests. Thank you all for your well-wishes and support. I cannot thank you enough. And just because I'm stuck in the hospital, don't change your plans to eat out at the Inn. Joshua and Heather are doing a great job while I'm away and they'll take good care of you. We need your continued support during these tough times. Hopefully I'll see you sooner than later...

Gesundheit friends,

Hans

Hospital Sunday

2010-05-23T16:50:00.000-04:00

The headaches are still intense, and they seem to bounce around my head with particular pattern. I'll have a blinding-white pain behind my right ear, and then for no reason, the pain jumps to behind my left eye. The dozen-plus emboli in my head are unpredictable little bastards...painful too! I'm already on Rocephin, the same antibiotic that they used to clear up my infection from last year. So if this a comparable infection, then we have a game plan.

The question of course becomes, how did these spots reoccur? The blood-brain barrier is supposed to keep the brain safe from infection, but perhaps my b/b barrier is compromised due to last year major "event". The game plan now is to examine to see if there is any bacterial "vegetaion" in my heart, which will happen Monday morning with a Trans Esophageal Echocardiogram (TEE). These infections my be from endocarditis. After that, an MRI to see if any of my brain bubbles have responded to the Rocephin infusions. Fingers crossed. If not, there's a chance they'll have to go back into my skull to get a sample of the tissue. I'm cautiously optimistic, which I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing anymore.

A year ago when we asked if this infection could return, the answer was "Yes, but the odds are incredibly slim." And now here we are again with a collection of bubbles more impressive than the last set. I had two different MRI's in March and both showed NO sign of infection. So these new bubbles popped up and grew since late March., which is amazingly quick. Assuming we get these emboli under control, do I panic each time I get a headache? I'm hoping we can figure out the source so we can have a game plan to prevent them from haunting me in the future. I'm tired of this game...

Nothing happens on Sunday at the Hospital. Even the nurses look bored. Thank you all for the well-wishes...take care of yourselves. Gesundheit,

Hans R.

Inside a hospital...

2010-05-21T20:06:00.001-04:00

The kiwi vines are in full bloom at the Inn and it's truly a sight to behold The butter-yellow blossoms smell like honey and it's furry limbs and will coil around anything stationary. We've had kiwis planted at the Inn for 7 or 8 years and before last year, I'd totally given up on the fruit thing. It popped a few flowers before then, and the occasional fruit, but nothing worth mentioning. I think (hope) that this year will be a bumper crop of of the fuzzy brown fruit. Mature female plants are supposed to yield between 35-50 pounds of fruit. I'm ready for some kiwi!

I managed to snap that photo a day or so before beginning a new hospital adventure. I've been experiencing a recurrence of the same type of headaches associated with those lesions in my brain last year...you know, the ones that almost killed me? To make a really long story somewhat shorter, I'm in the hospital with about 14 lesions in my head. How did this recurrence happen? Well, in addition to trying to get my pain level under control, that's what the teams at Piedmont Hospital are trying to figure out. The blood/brain barrier is supposed to keep our bacterial infections, but apparently since it had breached before, the critters had a straight shot to my brain. If you weren't around for last year's brain "fun", here's a link to one of those posts from last March http://hansrue.blogspot.com/2009/03/snapshots.html

With luck they won't have to cut into my head this time around, but the pressure is so bad in there that I half wonder if cutting a hole in my noggin wouldn't help to relieve some that pressure. The plan for now is to attack the infection with the same type & intensity and see if we can do the same trick on these colonies. Of course the words "Brain Cancer" have been circulating around the hospital, but I think they're all in agreement that these are not cancerous. All 14 emboli popped up within the last MRI, which was only 2 months ago, which is indicative of infection, not metastasis.

I've already had my spinal fluid tested (no meningitis), had a Barium Swallow (the definition of nasty), x-rays, CTs, and of course an MRI. Monday they're performing a Trans-esophageal Echocardiogram so they can get a better look at my heart. There's a theory that I have an infection in my heart which threw the bacteria up to the brain. Hopefully I'll know more on Monday.

So while the kiwis bloom at the Inn, I'll be inside a hospital. Thank you for your continued support & Gesundheit

Hans

p.s. - The Inn is open for business as usual. I have a great crew right now and I know they'll take good care of you. Sorry I'll miss you this weekend, but I'll catch you next time.

Unclipped wings and an one angry mother...

2010-05-10T23:10:00.001-04:00

I had a chance to work with a group of young culinary students at the Metropolitan Cooking & Entertaining show last weekend. It's always amazing to work with a group of students whose enthusiasm has yet to be tarnished by the realities of a real working kitchen. These are kids with unstained chef coats, un-bandaged & un-burned fingers, and the Food Network forever burned into their flat screen TVs. They'll need that well of enthusiasm to get them through the vigorous, day-in-day-out trials of this industry. Their young wings are as-yet unclipped and I hope the kitchens they do land in are kind. If I could hire them all, I would. Of the dozen or so people that graduated with me in 1995, only about 3 of us are still in the hospitality industry.

Mother's Day reminded me why so many people leave the restaurant industry behind them. We served 224 people Sunday, which is a new record for the Inn (the old one was 212). Out of those 224 people, approximately 223 of them were extremely happy, but one lady went out of her way to be nasty, ungracious, and downright ugly. She complained that her medium-rare lamb was "raw", so we cooked it to medium. Then she yelled that it was still "raw!", so we cooked it some more. When I delivered it again, she said, "I'll try it, but I'm not going to like it!". And she was right. She next complained (of course) that it was overcooked. All I could say was "Happy Mother's Day!!". She came in with a chip on her shoulder and she wasn't going to be happy until we all had one. What a mess! It's sad to think that she's someone's mother, and that someone had to spend the day with her. No fun. Some people complain like there's a reward for it...

I have a cooking class coming up this Wednesday the 12th at the Whole Foods in Alpharetta, and then I'm judging the Taste of Alpharetta on the 13th. Come out and visit if you can. But more importantly, come out and visit us at the Inn. The whole place is in bloom and Joe's memorial garden is starting to take shape. We'd love to see you...

Gesundheit

Hans

The needle with a radio frequency...

2010-04-30T07:12:00.000-04:00

The surgeries that helped to save my life 4.5 years ago also did a number on several of the key nerves along the right side of my body. I know I've mentioned it before, but it feels at times like I have a pet shark gnawing greedily at the sinewy flesh between those right-hand ribs. My journey with pain management started with steroid injections and then graduated to something called radio oblation, where a needle is inserted under x-ray directly to the nerve, and then that nerve is essentially "cooked" or scrambled with pulses of energy via radio frequency. It's much more effective than the intercostal blocks and tends to give me to give me some relief for about 4-6 months at a time. It's not as if my "pet shark" (Sharky?) has gone away, but more as if he's just distracted, less hungry, or possibly even napping. I was due up for this particular procedure back in December, but because of insurance issues and our recent family losses, my personal health took somewhat of a back seat. So the needle landed deep today, which is not excruciatingly painful thanks to local anesthesia, but not fun either. Dr. Lobel makes it fun by discussing the merits of my Coelacanth tattoo and even dictates the position of the injection by referencing the fishes anatomy just to see how the person on the other side of the dictation ends up spelling coelacanth (see-lu-kanth??). The injection site is sore, but Sharky seems properly hungover and with luck, won't notice me again until daylight savings has ended.

If you haven't been keeping up with my Twitter nonsense (You can follow me at @hanscooks), I've just recently returned from a quick trip to Chicago to visit with some great friends at the C2E2 convention. It was a slice of my Luna7 life that taps into my inner geek, all comic book art and such. Fun stuff that makes me feel all young and nerdy (as opposed to just older and nerdy). During the geek-fest that was C2E2, I had the chance to stay with, eat with, visit with my dear friends Dan Smith and Steve McDonagh, winners of the Next Food Network Star Season 1. Their new restaurant HEARTY is amazing and worth a visit to Chicago on its own...recommended!

Just getting over a bit of the flu, but hopefully my health will improve with the weather. We're working on the culinary garden in memory of my father and it's coming together nicely. I'll share pictures soon.

Much to do...as always. Gesundheit!

Hans

Father & Son & Wild Onions

2010-04-12T00:32:00.001-04:00

Finn had seen me hunting ramps on television, but had never had the opportunity to actually experience a "ramp tramp" first hand until this past Friday. (If you're not familiar with ramps, read my article in Edible Metro & Mountains) We left the house at about 8:00 a.m. and set a course for Blue Ridge. I asked Finn if he wanted to scrounge up some breakfast at home or wait and hit Meyer's German bakery. He made the right decision. Siegfried Meyer greeted us with a warm hug and then filled our bellies with a delicious hot breakfast. He also made us some traditional brotchen sandwiches with black forest ham and muenster cheese to bring with us on our trek up the mountains. Finn selected a few pastries to bring home for the girls and we said our aufwiedersehens. As we pulled away, Finn said, "Dad, even if we don't find any ramps, this has been a great day." And that was just breakfast! We had a quick pit-stop at Out of the Blue to see Aunt Sarah and then we started the winding drive up old highway 2 to find our ramps.

You can't help wonder about the names of the little areas you pass as you drive out on highway 2: Devil's Den, Fighting Town, Hell's Hollow. It's the kind of incredibly picturesque scenery that you'd typically think of as "God's country", but there are some seriously nefarious sounding names out that road. When the pavement abruptly turns to gravel, you know you're getting close to ramp country. The last time I was ramp hunting two years ago it was on horse back, and I was being led by a seasoned guide who knew exactly where the things were. This time was a bit more of a shot in the dark. We drove onward and upward until I spotted what looked like a small patch of ramps, but what ended up being the poisonous Jack-in-the-Pulpit ramp look-alike. Of course we left it alone, but since we'd already made the trek down the hill, we decided to keep on walking. You come across all sorts of beautiful things in the mountains like lady slipper orchids, foam flowers, may apples, mountain mint, wood ear mushrooms, and all sorts of strange mosses. Finn collected a few impressive snail shells along the way, both of us pointing out new treasures as we pushed through the brambles.

After about an hour and a half of walking, we finally came to the same valley where we shot the intro to the Spring Greens episode of Hans Cooks the South. Finn and I both recognized it immediately and we both saw the ramps as we crested the ridge. His immediate and wild enthusiasm gave me goose bumps and he nearly fell up the mountain trying to race to the nearest patch of green. I remember that same feeling when my father led me on my first "hunt" for chanterelle mushrooms...it's etched indelibly in my mind. Finn and I spend the next few hours talking and laughing and digging up wild onions. We crawled out of that valley smelling like sweat and garlic, covered in dirt and leaves, but smiling all the way. Back at the car we unwrapped our sandwiches with our mud-caked fingers and tucked fresh-picked ramp leaves between the ham and cheese...unbelievably delicious. Finn followed that up with a sugar coated, jam-stuffed Berliner (again from Meyer's) and I swear he would've eaten 2 more if they would've been handy. The boy worked for those ramps!

I have a head full of similar memories of walks in the forest with my father. I'm grateful that Finn had some walks in the forest with his Opa, but I do wish that there had been more. Opa would've been proud of this mess of ramps...no doubt.

Be well...gesundheit,

Hans

The last day of winter...

2010-03-19T22:44:00.000-04:00

My father passed away today on this last day of winter, March 19th, 2010. He was 69 years old. For as long as I can remember, my father dreaded the shorter days of winter, when the cold weather kept him away from his gardens and his open-air marble workshop. He was a warm-weather man who, like his beloved bromeliads, flourished in the speckled sunshine beneath the maple tree just behind the Woodbridge Inn. He would often walk through the Inn wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, suspenders, and a thick layer of white marble dust. This year's extreme winter weather took its toll on my father and he was never able to recover from a deep, impenetrable bout of pneumonia. At 2:00 this afternoon, Jochem "Joe" Rueffert passed away.

My father was larger than life and there's no way I can pay him proper tribute in so few words. I could live twice as long and still not be half the man my father was. Where my wit is quick, his was quicker. Where my words are sometimes wise, his were wiser. Where my heart is big, his was bigger. He was a father figure to so many and expected nothing shy of perfection from all of his "children", be they sired or surrogate. If my children love me half as much as his children loved him, I would be a happy man. This town, our family, and the world will be a lesser place in his absence.

For those of you who knew, loved, and respected my father, we are having a memorial service on Sunday, March 28th at the First Baptist Church in Jasper at 2:00. We will also have family visitation on Saturday the 27th from 5:00 - 7:00 at Cagle Funeral Home in Jasper. In lieu of flowers, we're asking that friends make a donation in his honor to Life Link, non-profit organ and tissue recovery organization dedicated to serving patients in need of transplant therapy and their families. Life Link was instrumental in helping Joe procure his second kidney transplant, and he was always a major supporter of organ donation. You may make a donation by mail or phone to:

The LifeLink Legacy Fund

409 Bayshore Boulevard

Tampa, FL 33606

800-262-5775

For those who would like to make a gift online, they have a secure website where you can make a donation on Joe's behalf at: http://www.lifelinkfound.org/legacy.cfm Without Life Link, we would've lost Joe years ago...

I will share more stories of my father's time with us in the future, and there are enough stories and anecdotes to fill volumes. I encourage you to do the same here as you see fit.

Much love and respect...gesundheit,

Hans

Little pieces of love...

2010-03-12T23:14:00.000-05:00

I lost my surrogate grandmother on Monday. Dear Willard Howard slipped away quietly in her sleep after 90 smiling years. I don't know that I've every met anyone with that much contagious joy...she was an inspiration, and she will be missed.

I first met Willard on the set of one of my first "live-audience" cooking show. She subsequently came to all but one of those events, and she was usually in the front row. We never saved seats for anyone at those tapings, but we always had a seat reserved for my "surrogate grandmother", as she liked to call herself. At 88 she was reading my blog daily and would email me if I wasn't writing enough for her sensibilities. This nearly-90 gem was emailing me when my 60+ year old parents were still figuring out the fairy-magic of fax machines...go figure.

Ms. Willard made me this beautiful quilt while I was in the hospital last year and it's one of my prize possessions. Thank you Willard...thank you for everything.

My father remains in the ICU, but there are some signs of improvement. He's still in that induced coma, but the plan now is to try and slowly wean him from the respirator. This marks his second week in the hospital...it's time for him to get better and come home.

Gesundheit,

Hans

Shredded lettuce and soy sauce

2010-03-08T23:03:00.002-05:00

I've always had a strong aversion to eating in my car. I don't know why, but it's just something I've never really enjoyed. All of these trips to and from the hospital to visit my father have forced me to endure a few "on the road" meals and my dislike of auto-eating hasn't changed a bit. On Saturday I attempted a "drive & dine" with a Schlotzsky's sandwich. I love Schlotzsky's, but apparently when you try and eat it in the car, the shredded lettuce jumps off of the sandwich like fleas off a swimming dog's back. Today I tried to put away some sushi rolls and, after swerving to avoid a fallen hand-truck in the highway, my car soon became littered with pickled ginger, Wasabi, and salty droplets of soy sauce. I thought I'd cleaned the whole mess up, but I just discovered a small infestation of sticky sesame seeds nestled in the gear shift column. Nope, I'm a sit-down restaurant kind of guy...

No real update regarding my father's health. He's still in an induced coma and possibly will be for some time. There appears to be some issue with his heart valves, but that could be a side-effect of the pneumonia. They have managed to back the respirator off a bit, but he still looks pitiful with all of those tubes sprouting from his swollen body. Please keep him in your thoughts...

Gesundheit,

Hans

Another puzzle...

2010-03-06T16:05:00.000-05:00

My father Joe (Jochem) is in intensive care at the moment, though I'm not sure that he knows it. He was admitted to the hospital last Saturday because of a clot in his leg, but things are never as simple as one might hope. It was quickly discovered that he has deep, bacterial pneumonia as well as some fluid around his heart. As the doctors worked on those problems, his pneumonia worsened and before we knew it, he was on a respirator and the medical team put him in an induced coma.

Every day presents another piece of this ever changing puzzle and we're struggling to keep up with (and understand) it all. He's been unconscious for a few days now, and they plan is to keep him that way until they can get the pneumonia under control and ultimately wean him off the ventilator. Today they've reduced the volume on the machine a bit, but there appears to be a valve issue in his heart. The picture keeps changing...

I'll do my best to update as things evolve. A lot of folks keep calling to ask what they can do, but at the moment, there truly is nothing. We have an amazing network of friends and believe me, we'll call on you when we need you. In the meantime, keep Joe in your thoughts and prayers. The man has had his share of medical "adventures", but this may be one of the toughest ones yet. I'll try and update on Twitter (@hanscooks), which you can read on the right hand side of this blog.

Thank you & Gesundheit,

Hans

To an Alpine disco...

2010-02-22T22:49:00.000-05:00

One of the towns on the slate for our culinary tour of Austria/Germany (see my previous blog if you'd like to join us) lies just across the border in northern Italy. When I was younger (much younger!), my family used to visit that area every Christmas to visit family and slide down the snowy mountains with expensive sticks strapped to our feet (a.k.a. skiing). Those days, the dollar was so strong against the mark/schilling/lire that it was cheaper to vacation there than it was to travel in the states. We'd fly into Munich and then wind out way (usually with at least one car-sick pit stop for me) to either Hinterglemm Austria or the sleepy little town of Antholz Italy. It's amazing that you can hop from Germany to Austria to Italy without even having to burn through a tank of gas.

I have such powerful memories of that area...the people, the stunning landscape, and of course the food. One of our last visits to that particular area happened when my sister Sonja was about 16 (making me about 13). She'd spent the previous summer learning to drive in her new VW Cabriolet and quickly became an adept (if not a bit aggressive) driver. Most evenings in Antholtz culminated with the "old folks" talking for hours over ever-emptying glasses while the young crowd killed the time playing Yahtzee or watching German-dubbed American TV reruns until our eyelids grew heavy. Sensing our pending boredom one evening, my Uncle Michael suggested we take his car and drive to the next village over to a "disco for young people". Of course this was before the days of cell phones & GPS, but Sonja was full of self-confidence and took the keys without hesitation. It took her a few moments to get the hang of driving on packed snow, but we somehow managed to find our destination. I'm not sure what we were expecting, but what we found wasn't too dissimilar to what we'd set out to escape...an oversized, smoke-filled room with folks hunched over their beverage of choice. The ratio of young to old folks was a bit in our favor, and to be fair, there was a dance floor with flashing overhead lights and a Depeche Mode obsessed DJ (which was just fine by me). I remember Sonja ordering a sloe gin fizz and I was impressed as hell that she ordered it with such confidence. I had a beer, which was totally normal (and legal) for 13 year olds in Europe, but seemingly scandalous to my Jasper Georgia sensibilities. Word somehow spread quickly that Sonja and I were Americans and before we'd half-emptied our glasses there were about a dozen young people asking questions in broken English about New York or Hollywood. I'm not sure whether we felt like rock stars or zoo specimens, but the undeserved attention was far better than another round of Yahtzee in our hotel dining room. The best part was that the owner of the disco/club/restaurant/bar had actually heard of the Woodbridge Inn (probably from my uncle), which made us both shine with pride. Like most teenage siblings, Sonja and I didn't see eye to eye that often, but that night in an Italian disco, I was proud that she was my big sister drinking a sloe gin fizz.

I'll be proud to share the Alps with my children, but I think we'll skip the sloe gin fizzes and beer until they're just a bit older. Traveling abroad was a huge part of my education and I hope to offer my munchkins an entire menu of strong, indelible memories that they can share together.

More soon...gesundheit

Hans

An invitation...to Germany & Austria!

2010-02-17T23:35:00.001-05:00

I've composed about a dozen blog entries in my head since my last one, but life has a way of keeping me from actually finding the time to write them. The Inn has been challenging, but we're making strides. I'll post more on that front soon, but I wanted to break my recent silence to announce something really special that I've been working on behind the scenes. I've been asked to host a culinary tour of southern Germany and Austria and I'm hoping you'll come along. I have so many amazing memories of Munich and Salzburg and the idea of sharing these amazing cities is truly an exciting concept. I just copied the info straight from a .pdf, so the formatting may be a bit wonky, but hopefully you'll be able to make some sense of it. I'll try and post the full "brochure" online soon. If you have any questions or think you may be able to attend, please let me know. I think they're going to limit the number of guests to 12 or 15, so if you're even vaguely interested, speak up! Here's the skinny:

Culinary Program of Austria & Bavaria!

Hosted by Chef Hans

Innsbruck, Austria and the Bavaria Region!

9 Days and 8 nights

This itinerary blends the best of the beautiful and historical Bavarian Region with the charming Alpine town of Innsbruck, Austria. We will also experience some of the best cuisine of Europe! We will visit the highlights of Innsbruck, Munich and Salzburg, as well as see the castle that inspired the Disney Castle! We will also take advantage of some cooking lessons, hosted by Hans and a local Bavarian Chef, as well as experience a superb culinary tradition in some of Bavaria’s most famous restaurants! Pack your bags and join Chef Hans on this unforgettable excursion to Austria and Bavaria, Germany!

Your personalized itinerary:

10 September: Overnight Flight to Austria!

We depart Atlanta for our overnight flight to Innsbruck, Austria.

11 September: Welcome to Innsbruck, Austria!

Upon arrival, we will be met by our local Program Director who will assist us in transferring to our centrally located hotel. After an introductory briefing, a welcoming drink, and some time to rest and relax, we will enjoy an afternoon excursion of Innsbruck! Innsbruck’s rise to prominence started in the 12^th century as a resting place between Germany to the North and Italy in the South. Innsbruck itself is nestled between towering mountains and fast running waters. By the XV century, Innsbruck became the capital of the Tyrol Region and was a prominent residence for the Emperor Maximilian I. The region remained a key part of Austrian power and prestige for centuries.

To see will include the Dom zu St. Jakob (16^th century church), the Goldenenes Dachl (a Golden Palace), the Hofburg (The Emperor’s palace), and the Imperial Hof Church. There is so much to see of interest in the town center, not to mention to eat! All entries included.

Evening at your disposal and overnight in Innsbruck

12 September: Castle Neuschwanstein / Oberammergau / Bavarian Alps

After a hearty Austrian Breakfast, we embark on a fantastic tour of the Castle Neuschwanstein in Bavaria! This is the castle that inspired Disney’s own castle. We will also make a visit of the Medieval Monastery of Ettal, the Linderhof Palace, Oberammergau, and the Wies-Church. Today’s program mixes the amazing beauty of the Bavarian Mountain region with several notable architectural jewels. All entries included.

13 September: Walking Tour of Munich / Culinary Lesson

After breakfast, we will transfer to Munich, Germany!

We will enjoy a walking tour of Munich. This will include a visit of the Open Air Market (Viktualienmarkt) just next to the Marienplatz. Here we will stop for the famous “Glockenspiel.” After this, we continue on Gourmet Delicatessen Shop “Dallmayr” where we will have a visit followed by a tasting of Prosecco and local Champagne. Our walking excursion will end in the very traditional Bavarian restaurant of “Augustiner!” Here we will taste the famous Muencher Weisswurst, Brezl, and Weissbier!

Afternoon: Cooking Course in Tulfes with a well known farming family! Chef Hans and the local Chef will show how one makes traditional dishes. Dumplings and other local dishes using simple and time tested culinary traditions! Dishes and Drinks included!

Evening: At your leisure to rest and relax and overnight in Innsbruck

14 September: Salzburg

Today after breakfast, we will take a day trip to the famous city of Salzburg! We will pass through some amazing Alpine scenery on the way so have your cameras ready!

Salzburg is the fourth-largest city in Austria and the capital of the federal state of Salzburg. Salzburg's "Old Town" (Altstadt) is world famous for its baroque architecture which is one of the best-preserved city centers north of the Alps. Salzburg was voted as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1997. The city is noted not only for its Alpine setting but also as being the birthplace of 18th-century composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. In the mid-20th century, the city was also utilized as the setting for many parts of the musical and film “The Sound of Music.”

In Salzburg itself, besides an amazing tour of this charming city and its impregnable fortress high above everything else, we will have lunch in the oldest restaurant in the world (Peterskeller).

Evening: Back in Innsbruck with free-time at your disposal.

15 September: Free Day / Evening at the famous Theresienbräu

Today is your day to rest, relax, and explore more of the city!

Evening: We gather together to enjoy an evening of Austrian music, entertainment, and cuisine at the Theresienbräu! This will be a truly memorable experience! Three Course traditional meal and drinking package included.

16 September: Chiemsee

After breakfast, we head south for a visit of the beautiful Bavarian lake town of Chiemsee. Here we will see the Royal Palace modeled on Versailles built by King Ludwig II. Our lunch will be a delicious affair on ”Ladies Island” at the restaurant “Zur Linde.” The island of Frauenchiemsee (often called Fraueninsel) is the second largest of the three islands in Chiemsee, Germany. The local town boasts only 300 permanent residents as well as a Benedictine Convent, founded in 782. The convent is most famous however for its “Kloster Liquor Spirit” produced directly by the nuns themselves.

Late afternoon and Evening in Innsbruck at your full disposal.

17 September: Free Time / Culinary Lesson 2

After breakfast, the morning will be at your leisure to enjoy more of the city or even visit more of the famous sites of Innsbruck.

Afternoon (after lunch): We gather together for a cooking lesson at the local Austrian restaurant “Stiftskeller” hosted by Chef Hans and a local celebrity team of Chefs! We will learn to cook several of the traditional dishes before trying our handiwork with an early supper!

18 September: Free Day in Innsbruck or Optional Program to Bolzano

Today you are free to enjoy more of Innsbruck or to enjoy an optional excursion to Bolzano, Italy located a short distance from Innsbruck. Bolzano, Italy was part of Austria until the beginning of the XX century when it became part of Italy. The town is known for having a fusion of Germanic and Italian cultures where both languages and cuisines can be readily found and enjoyed! Besides the beauty and charm of Bolzano, this is where you can find Otzi, the Iceman, a perfectly preserved man from thousands of years ago!

19 September: Return Home to USA…

After our last hearty breakfast, Austrian style, we transfer over to the International Airport of Munich for our flight home to the USA….

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Your Travel Program Details

Price: $ 2,074.00 (Land only)

Payment Protocols:

A 20% deposit is due at the time of sign-up to reserve your seat.
50% of the total is due on or before 15 May 2010.
Full Balance is due on or before 15 July 2010.

Refund information: Deposit may be refunded up to 75% until 15 May. 70% of total can be refunded until 15 June, 50% until 15 July, 25% until 15 August, sorry, no refunds possible after 15 August.

Price Includes:

8 nights at a 4 Stars Hotel in Innsbruck with breakfast
Transfers to and from airport
All meals and cooking courses as per itinerary
All tours, with guide specialists as itinerary
Two cooking courses with Chef Hans and a local Chef
Entry fees, local mini-transfers, boat ride, etc. as per itinerary
24/7 assistance from Walker Travel Group LLC Staff

Price does not include:

Items of a personal nature such as passports
Airfare (Can be purchased on own or through the Walker Travel Group LLC)
Travel Insurance (Can be purchased individually through the Walker Travel Group LLC)
Porterage and Gratuities
Optional Tours (May be acquired locally or booked beforehand as desired)

Miscellaneous:

All passports to enter the European Union must have at least 6 months validity at the time of arrival. Those wishing to sign up for this trip may do so by calling 404-437-6337 or via e-mail at reservations@walkertravels.com. Let us know if you wish with air or without. As spaces are limited for this trip, one must sign up as early as possible!

GSU Article

2010-02-11T23:28:00.000-05:00

This month's Georgia State University Magazine features an article about some skinny chef named Hans. It also features a video that highlights a recent class at the Cancer Wellness Center at Piedmont. The video is a highly edited and condensed version of the class, but it should give you a good idea of what fun we have at the CWC. If you'd like to join us, please do. I'll be back at the CWC on March 10th, and you'll need to register to get a seat.

Tired is an understatement. Valentine's weekend is going to kick my flat butt, but I look forward to seeing many of you at the Inn.

Gesundheit,

Hans

Getaway...

2010-02-10T21:54:00.000-05:00

So the plan was to escape from the recent string of unfortunate events that have plagued the Inn lately. 24 hours away from the Inn to celebrate 13 years of marriage. Well, we weren't away for two hours before the phone rang to inform me that yet ANOTHER water pipe had ruptured in the laundry room...crazy. We've really been put to the test this year with floods and fire, but we'll get through it. Compared to the health bullets I've dodged (or perhaps absorbed), this is just a game of dodgeball. Even still, I'd like a little break.
We did finally resume our escape to Serenbe and enjoy a quiet meal at The Hil on the Hill. Let's see what tomorrow throws at us...
More soon...gesundheit
Hans

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Surprise me...

2010-01-27T23:48:00.000-05:00

We've been working non-stop to put the restaurant back together after essentially taking it apart at the seams. There are still some finishing touches to address, but the place is starting to look like a restaurant again. The new carpet really makes the place shine. Richard Slater (who did a fine job installing the carpet and hardwood floors) said he wasn't too sure about the pattern when Amy first picked it out, but now can't imagine using anything else. It just works! If you're local and you haven't been in a while, please come by and see what's new. And don't wait until Valentine's Day either...come out and enjoy the place at a normal pace, not when we have people jumping over themselves to eat on Valentine's weekend. Of course we'd love to feed you on Valentine's Day too, but I feel we're at our best when we have proper time to take care of our guests.

A snapshot of the new carpet...

I donned the chef coat tonight and felt totally at home in the tiny kitchen at the Inn. A bit of muscle memory comes in to play when I'm in that space. I can fling an eggshell or the cut end of a lemon into the trash can without even looking. I can hurl a soupspoon across into the dish bin without so much making a splash. My "ill" years took me away from that place for a time, but I'm happy to return. I feel like a hermit crab who has found his perfect fitting shell.

The dining room was filled with some of my favorite people tonight, which makes me smile on the inside. I had a couple of heads of cabbage in the kitchen from a local farmer and sauteed them up with a bit of caraway and fennel for the Landrums and friends....something fun and impromptu. Some people may turn their noses up at cabbage, but I knew they would appreciate it. It reminded me of cooking for A.L. and Juanita Jones, who like clockwork, ate at the Inn every Wednesday night at 5:00 for years. A.L. usually had a strong mind on what he wanted to eat, but Mrs. Jones would simply say, "Surprise me." I loved that simple request and pushed myself each week to surprise her with something better than the last week's creation. She shared my love of okra and eventually changed her request to "Surprise me...and cook some okra if you have some!" I miss those days, but hope we can continue to surprise folks from time to time.

The new aquarium in place, nearly complete...waiting for some fish

If you enjoyed the photography in Eat Like There's No Tomorrow, you'll recognize a few of the images now hanging proudly in the dining rooms. Amy's photography really shines on the walls and it makes me proud to see them hanging there. She is ridiculously talented and the pictures are right at home there. And yes, I'm partial to the fig pictures. Speaking of, I hope my poor fig trees survive this exceptionally frigid winter. I'll be a sad, sad man if they didn't. I will kick Jack Frost's ass if he's messed with my beloved figs...

Hope to see you soon at the Inn...and often. And if you don't see me, ask for me. There's a good chance I'm juggling lemons (or knives) in the kitchen.

Gesundheit!

Hans

p.s. - Thanks to Mr. L for the blog guilt! Anything good on eBay?

What's your cause?

2010-01-23T07:59:00.000-05:00

I know I've said this before, but my health "hiccups" in recent years have opened my eyes to a world of empathy that I somehow was oblivious to before. Even with so many cancers marring my family tree, I somehow managed to walk through life semi-blind to the challenges and needs of my ailing loved ones. I had a woman grasp my arm a couple of years ago at a presentation I was giving and she said, "Son, I reckon God just slapped you in the face!", and in truth, it was a slap that I truly needed. Time spent at the Cancer Wellness Center at Piedmont is so rewarding for me personally and it gives us cancer survivors an environment to live and learn and heal. I've found my cause and am honored to be a part of something much larger than myself. I wish that everyone could find that sense of cause without having to endure cancer or heart disease or diabetes or what have you.

I've been inspired by Disney's new Give a Day, Get a Disney Day program, which essentially rewards you for your altruism. In essence, you get a free ticket to a Disney theme park for simply volunteering in your community (see the link for the details). It's a way to jump start community involvement by extending a "carrot" to those who may also need that gentle slap toward community service. Truly a great idea...

I'd like to offer up Eat Like There's No Tomorrow as somewhat of a fundraiser for your favorite cause. You know how some organizations sell doughnuts or raffle tickets to raise money for their cause? Maybe we could use the book as a means to raise some money & awareness for your own personal cause. It's just a thought, but if you think that your organization could somehow benefit from the book, just email me directly at hans@hanscooks.com and we'll see how we can make it work.

Speaking of causes, if you're a breast cancer patient/survivor/caregiver, I'll be doing a cooking demo at Piedmont Hospital in Fayetteville for the Cancer Wellness program on February 4th. For more information, visit piedmontcancer.org

Much to do! As always...gesundheit!

Hans

Fire & ice...

2010-01-18T22:57:00.000-05:00

We had a small fire in the laundry room at the Inn yesterday. The fire went unnoticed for at least half an hour before the housekeeper discovered the laundry room black with soot and soaking wet. The heat melted a supply line that feeds the ice machine and the thing totally flooded the room (and thankfully extinguished the blaze). A big thank you is in order for the fine folks at the Jasper City Fire Department who came out to ensure the safety of the entire building...great folks.
The fire was just one in a series of unfortunate events which includes a burst water main. We're getting there, but it has truly been a labor of love. I'm ready for some steady waters.

So let's focus on the positive! The new hardwood floors were installed today at the front entrance, the new light fixtures are up, the whole place has a fresh coat of paint, and the new aquarium is being installed in the morning. We're still waiting on the new carpet, but hopefully it'll show up next week. If you haven't been to the Inn in a while, come by and see the changes. People hear the word "change" and assume we're installing neon and glass everywhere, but that's not at all what's happening. We're just doing a bit of updating and trying to enhance the charm that folks know and love.

We lost our dear cat Tigger this morning. She was with us for nearly 19 years and she will be missed. I buried her this morning in the shadows of the hemlock trees on the property at the Inn. The soil was a tangled nest of roots and stone, but I managed to carve out a spot with a mattock and spade. She's buried right next to our little kitten Moxie that we lost last year. My father was kind enough to engrave a marble headstone for Moxie, and he's planning on doing the same for Tigger. Tigger was the runt of the litter from my sister Sonja's cat Kiwi (short for Kitty Witty) and was born in the condominium we shared during our university years. Amy adopted the crazy kitten and Tigger lived with us in our first apartment, our first home, second home, and our current home. Rest in peace Tigger...rest in peace.

Be well my friends...gesundheit,

Hans

A room with a view...

2010-01-10T20:53:00.000-05:00

The winter weather here has been intense and with it came our share of burst pipes. We had one in the lodge that splintered an 8 foot length of PVC pipe and sent water spewing down the entire property. The roads were so slick on Friday that I ended up staying over at the Inn after cooking for an extra special surprise 80th birthday party. I slept in my old bedroom above the restaurant (now Room 53) and my head was flooded with nostalgia as I drifted to sleep. I lived in that room for 15 of my formative years, its walls once covered in Smiths posters and dot matrix printouts from my Atari 800XL. My room overlooks downtown Jasper, and the town was snow-kissed and just beautiful at sunrise.

Finn and Ella were exposed to the magic of snow cream tonight and it was met with sweet, icy smiles of approval. Sonja and I looked forward to it every year and we always harvested the virgin snow off of our deck (the same one from which this picture was taken). It was a beautiful tradition that even carried over to our apartment life in college. The snows in Georgia are fewer and farther between these days, but the stuff is still delicious.

Things are happening at the Woodbridge Inn, so if you haven't been by lately, come see our progress. We spent the past week painting, ripping out uneven flooring, repairing ceilings, and more. The place will be a work in progress for a little while longer, but we're open during the renovations. In fact, this month marks the 34th anniversary of our family purchasing the Inn and each year we celebrate with "Anniversary Specials" with prices that hark back to the original menu. If you've been looking for an excuse to come and join us for dinner, this is it.

Much to do. Go out and scoop up some fresh snow for snow cream! Gesundheit...

Hans

CURE magazine

2009-12-31T08:12:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to share a link to the recent issue of CURE magazine which has a really thorough article about stomach cancer with my friend and fellow Gastric Cancer Fund board member J.P. Gallagher. There's also a little sidebar article called "A Skinny Chef You Can Trust".

Happy New Year everyone! Gesundheit

Hans

Blogger guilt...

2009-12-27T23:13:00.000-05:00

So yes, I've been neglecting the blog. What's interesting is that some folks assume that I'm not doing well when I'm quiet, but the truth is quite the opposite. My life has just been so "full" lately that I've just not taken the time to sit down and digest it. When I'm not feeling well, I spend a good deal of my time in my own head, over-thinking, over-analyzing, and yes, over-blogging. I've been served quite a few helpings of blogger guilt lately, so I thought it high time to sit down and catch up.

I've been using Twitter quite a bit to micro-blog photos and random thoughts. I started using Twitter during my brain health scares earlier this year and find it to be a great way to capture the stray ideas that leap through my head. I'm not really sure how to explain Twitter, but if you're looking for updates from me, follow me at: http://twitter.com/hanscooks And you can see recent "tweets" here on the blog on the right-hand side of your screen. We've also set up an account for the Woodbridge Inn and I encourage you to follow that one as well. We'll be posting about new food finds, specials, and whatever else floats our boat. Here's a link for the woodbridgeinn Twitter page: https://twitter.com/woodbridgeinn

Christmas was excellent and I have a shiny new stack of cookbooks to devour. I'm currently reading the Blackberry Farm cookbook, which is both beautiful and inspirational. I kicked around the idea of bring Amy there for our upcoming anniversary, but then I saw the prices...damn! I just can't see spending $990 for one night's lodging. So I'll enjoy the book and the Farm vicariously through it.

Sleep is tugging at my eyelids and I think I'll succumb to it. In case I don't get back to the blog before you flip the calendar, Happy New Year. Thank you for all of your support in 2009. It was a tough year for us, and I cannot thank you enough for your love and friendship.

Gesundheit!

Hans

I'm that guy...

2009-12-14T23:09:00.001-05:00

I always dreaded school assemblies. My best-friend Sean's mother was the high school librarian, so Sean and I skipped as many of those pep-rallies and other assemblies as often as we could, hiding out between the book shelves or in the A/V room. We'd sit around playing Ace of Aces or Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on the computer while our peers whooped and cheered on whatever was happening in the gymnasium. Yep, we were (are) geeks. But the library couldn't shelter us from all the school assemblies. I remember sitting in the gymnasium while the principal introduced the guest speaker d'jour. As interesting as they probably were, I really don't remember any of them clearly. They all overcame some great adversity or tragedy...there was the reformed cocaine addict turned FBI agent, a car-crash survivor, and so on. If I were to hear their stories now, I'm sure I'd be riveted and walk away fully inspired. But back then, they were just words echoing off the gymnasium walls during a mandatory assembly.

And now I've been asked to speak tomorrow at the local high school and I just realized...I'm that guy! I'm the guy with the "overcoming adversity" story that's going to stand in a gymnasium full of kids who'd much rather be hiding in the library! To be honest, that's a little intimidating. I never really get nervous or anxious before a speech, but there's something about the idea of speaking to a room of half-interested (if I'm lucky!) teens that makes me feel a little fluttery. And moreover, I have a bad habit of using some of life's more "colorful" words in my speeches...I'm going to have to watch my tongue tomorrow. Here's hoping I can think of something clever between now and then to grab their attention. Maybe I'll tell them I'm was an extra in Twilight...

Gesundheit...

all Inn the family...

2009-12-12T00:37:00.000-05:00

My parents purchased the Woodbridge Inn in 1976 and Jasper has never been the same. You could go so far as to say (and many have said) that the Inn put Jasper on the map. I was just a snotty-nosed 4 year-old at the time, but I remember feeling like I belonged to something larger than life...something unique. My parents managed to take a failing, over-French, "fancy" restaurant and, with a considerable amount of effort, revive the place as one of North Georgia's finest dining destinations. And now the torch has been officially passed to my wife Amy and I and we hope to continue to build on their successes. We're hosting a bit of a retirement party this Sunday (December 13th) from 4:00 - 6:00 pm as a way to celebrate their accomplishments, and everyone is invited to stop in and wish them well. We're not bidding them farewell (they still live on the property), but more thanking them for their important role in the community. It'll also be a time to share stories and raise a glass of wine in their honor. They deserve it. So please drop in anytime between 4 - 6 for a small bite and some wine. We'd love to see you...

Some photographers from Georgia State University's alumni magazine were up last night to shoot some shots for an article their putting together. It was literally freezing cold outside and I won't be surprised if they come out blurry from all the shivering I was doing. So when they asked me to flame some bananas table side, I leapt at the opportunity to add a little explosive warmth to the dining room. Perhaps a little too much rum?

Silver linings at 30,000 feet

2009-12-03T23:27:00.001-05:00

Inflight:

It's easy to find a cloud's silver lining when you're flying at 30,000 feet. Forced perspective I suppose, but sitting in a bumpy jet for 5 hours leaves me feeling quite introspective. Modest Mouse is singing about Guilty Cocker Spaniels in my ear buds and sleep is starting to flirt with my over-tired eyelids. The lady in the row ahead and to my left is snoring with her mouth wide open, her breathy outbursts drawing stares from my fellow sardines. I'm not sure if I can sleep through that, but I'll certainly try. Amy says sleeping is my super power, and I don't disagree. I can usually fall asleep within about 90 seconds of shutting my eyes, but this snorer may be my kryptonite.

I'm on my way to San Francisco to attend the Gastric Cancer Fund's big Gastric Celebration fundraiser. The event is the GCF's first big shindig and the thing sold out! Not bad for a fledgling non-profit, I'd say. I'm meeting my dear friend & food brother Michael Thomas (Next Food Network Season 1) and he's offered to help with a speech and cooking demo I'm giving at the soiree. He's driving up from LA and bringing along some giant 40-serving paella pan. I imagine the thing to look more like a trailer-side satellite dish than a cooking implement, but we'll see. He's picking me up from the airport just before midnight...hopefully. Tomorrow we'll be on the hunt for some tasty & healthy things to cook up in the satellite dish, and I imagine that won't be hard to do in San Fran's famous markets. There's usually some monumental eating when Michael and I get together, which for me means little bites of exotica throughout the day. Our last eating adventure in LA was a multi-continent themed tour of some of the city's hidden gems...better than TV, I promise. Is there a Pinkberry in San Francisco? Oooo...Pinkberry...

So back to that silver lining. I was just thinking that as truly awful as my gastric cancer has been, it really has enriched (seasoned?) my life in ways I would've never imagined. The people I've met, the survivors and their stories...amazing. And now I'm flying across the country to meet 150 more people whose lives have been affected by this terrible disease. We're not assembling to bellyache (and many of us have lost much of our bellies), rather we're celebrating hope, remembering the friends we've lost, and raising money & awareness in an attempt to eradicate gastric cancer. Pretty neat I'd say. If you're at all interested, check out the GCF's website at: www.gastriccancer.org In the storm that is gastric cancer, the GCF is the silver lining in the clouds. I'll try and Twitter some updates from San Fran and from the event itself if I can. Stay tuned...

Quick note, there's an article about the Inn up at: http://www.pickensprogress.com/articleinfo.asp?Link=1717

Now about that sleep thing...

Hanzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hope is contagious...

2009-11-23T19:46:00.001-05:00

I'm exhausted from a solid week of work and three days of classes/demos at the Cancer Wellness Center. It's the good kind of exhausted though...well earned. The CWC held it's public open house on Saturday and it was jam packed. My new friend Kaedy Kiely and I held a demo on Power Foods for a group of CWC regulars and a flock of Kaedy's friends and listeners. If you're not familiar with Kaedy, be sure to check out her blog

Her personality is contagious...full of life and constantly smiling. I'm looking forward to working with her again.

Speaking of contagious, there is nothing more inspiringly contagious than hope. This is my third year teaching at the Cancer Wellness Center and the atmosphere there is charged with hope, love, laughter, and support. If you're here in the Atlanta area, please come and check it out: http://www.piedmontcancerconnection.org/
It's for anyone dealing with the "big C", whether you're a patient or a caregiver...and it's FREE!

The Inn is going to be totally packed on Thanksgiving...hungry people coming out of our ears. We'll be preparing for the onslaught all week. And if you weren't one of those fortunate enough to grab reservations for "turkey day", be sure to make reservations for the weekend after. Lots of families in town and the place fills up quickly...

Much to do! Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

the Wall...

2009-11-10T21:22:00.000-05:00

20 years since the fall of the Berlin Wall and the whole thing still seems surreal. Here's my father talking about his experience escaping over the wall from an Atlanta news broadcast: http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/dpp/news/gorbachev+thanked+on+wall+anniversary

I'll be interviewing him for Story Corps on December 12th and I'm really looking forward to it...pure history.

We're running a few special menu items to celebrate German Reunification this week at the Inn, and we're also pouring Henkel Trocken as well. Come by and help us celebrate.

Much to do...Gesundheit!

Hans

Reservations?

2009-11-06T23:28:00.000-05:00

The line began to form around 1:30 for this past Sunday's lunch. By 2:00 it stretched out the front door of the Inn and spilled out on to the porch, a slow river of local late-lunchers and leaf lookers. It's interesting to witness the different personalities of folks as they queue up for lunch. Those who made reservations are, naturally, seated first and the "walk-ins" typically wait patiently for the first available table. It's a bit of a dance really, a shuffling two-step to coordinate time, tables and traffic. We had one gentleman walk-in and casually announce that he had reservations. When I couldn't find his name on the list, I asked him when he'd made the reservations.

"Right now!" he said. "I'm making reservations right now for four people."
"Oh...well, we're running a 30 minute wait right now unless you phoned ahead to reserve a table," I told him in my most hospitable voice. "Can I put your name on the waiting list?"
"But I just made reservations right now for four people!"
"Hmm...did you phone ahead to make a proper reservation", I asked, feeling that perhaps I was missing something in this strange exchange.
"No, but I'm making them right now for four people...right now!"
"I'll tell you what," says I, somewhat frustrated and far too busy to continue the game, "all of the tables are either occupied or reserved, but if you'll give me 15-20 minutes, I'll find something for you and your guests."
"To HELL with this! Let's GO!" And with that, he was out the door, leaving his wife and guests looking as confused as I and genuinely apologetic.

So the moral of the story is (if there is one): make reservations at least 60 seconds prior to your arrival!

The restaurant is staying busy and the reservation book is filling up with Christmas parties. No rest for the weary, but I'm not complaining. I like hungry people...

Much to do! Be well, eat well...gesundheit!

Hans

Warm and familiar...

2009-10-25T22:17:00.001-04:00

We served 125 people at the Inn last night. It's the first time I've really worked in that kitchen in over 5 years, but it was amazing how easily it came back to me. Of course serving 125 people is stressful and somewhat chaotic, but was good to feel the warm and familiar glow of the broiler on my forehead and hear the sizzle of a fresh trout in a buttered pan. I must've cooked 10,000 trout in that kitchen at the Woodbridge Inn. When I was a young boy, we'd receive our trout from the Price Creek Trout farm just outside Jasper, and often the fish would still be alive. One of my duties in the kitchen at that point was cleaning (gutting) and de-boning the fish. Occasionally my father would allow me to keep one of fish alive in the sink while I worked. I suppose it was a temporary stay of execution for the trout and I invariably ended up getting attached to my "sink fish". My father would always have to take over the cleaning duties for that particular fish...I'm just too sensitive for that.

So in case you haven't heard (or guessed), Amy and I are taking over at the Woodbridge Inn. It will be a work in progress for a long time, but we have some ideas in mind, all of which building on the successes my parents and our family history. I'll try and keep a running log on things as we move forward...wish us luck! More on that soon...

My PICC line was removed on Thursday after a packed class at the Cancer Wellness Center. It feels good to have full use of my left arm again. Hooray! Now I have to snack with renewed fervor to keep these pounds on. Speaking of, it's time for a snack!

Be well...Gesundheit!

Hans