Boomer-1945: My Inspired Journey

By Albert L. Sipes

Living through the last half of the twentieth century myself and others my age are the Baby Boomer generation. From 1945 to the new millennium, life was different from the current perspective. I offer my viewpoint through the work that I performed, my religious affiliations and a modest college education. A cancer diagnosis also brought me some introspection. The nuts and bolts of life are wrapped up in decisions and our ability to execute a worthy existence. The name and dates on our generational tombstones are not enough. Like all anecdotes, there is more to the story! An early dedication to trust in Jesus Christ has made all the difference

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664140400

Albert L. Sipes

Like all Baby boomers, I have seen the world turn since 1945. I was lucky enough to survive a few slings and arrows. There was a loss of innocence on several occasions for those of my generation. My view was tempered by a conservative upbringing and a sparkle for inquisition. I was an Army copy editor for ‘The Cavalair’ our 1st Calvary Division Newspaper, Vietnam (1967 – 1968). Later, I worked as a radio broadcaster reporting Denver, national and international news. Raising a family and loving the same wife for more than half a century, I have perceptions to celebrate, others worth further scrutiny. Generations following the Boomer phenomenon our legacy will survive. I commit it to print . . . a snippet of the life and times from my boomer perspective. Impossible to speak for all my peers but rational, this is one man’s story.

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Copyright © 2020 by Albert L. Sipes.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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Rev. date: 11/09/2020

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 1

I didn’t accomplish much in the shop today. Snow was falling lightly as I awoke at 6:50. I cleared the light dusting and collected the newspaper. The news seemed mostly bad. Reading the newspaper used to be entertaining. It is now discouraging and smitten with political rhetoric. There is some light and encouraging news about people and their accomplishments that are more comforting . I try to dwell on those stories and skip the cat fighting of our national politics. This evening at about 9:00 p.m. I got dizzy and light headed. I also felt a bit of nausea, sweats and had to take a seat to keep from falling. I told Cathy about it, she had me take a Tylenol and cup of water as we sat and talked. We both suspected that I was prone to Vertigo as she had similar symptoms periodically and had received the diagnosis from our doctor. The new normal is that I’m not going to feel like I felt in my 20’s. My father in his later years, and younger than I am now, would often say, Getting old sucks. He was right, it does. I was determined to find new challenges that help keep my mind off the next two years of medical treatment. Life is full of surprises and compromise. We are blessed. Cathy and I on a Colorado river trip piloted by our son Steve.

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November 18, 2019

I had my annual physical in mid-November. At the time, a fasting blood draw was necessary to monitor my cholesterol levels. Along with that, a PSA (prostatic specific antigen) to evaluate my PSA lever. On returning to my physical exam a week later, I learned that my PSA was elevated to 13.8. It’s not supposed to be above 4.0 considering a man of my age, 73 at the time. My primary physician found this alarming and suggested that I consult a Urologist. I did so later in the month by appointment. His suggestion was that I follow up with a biopsy of the prostate. The results of that biopsy showed that I had moderate cancer present in two areas, 15% in one area and 20% in an area lower and adjacent to the first. Along with that information, the Gleason Score was 9 on a scale of 10. This would mean that the cancer cells are highly irregular and the condition itself, one of high risk. It was cause for the doctor to advise that I consult an Oncologist team. The date was December 26. This was one day after Christmas and one day prior to Cathy’s and my 54th wedding anniversary. Statistically, 175,000 men in the U.S. are diagnosed with Prostate Cancer annually … or 1 in every 7 men of certain demographics such as age, family history and physical indicators. I thought to myself, Happy new Year! Following this revelation, appointments were made for early January of 2019.

January - 2019

I completed a bone scan that turned out to be clear; that I had no cancer cells present in any bone structure. This was a hurdle that Cathy and I were happy to hear. On Wednesday, the 9th of January, we had a consultation with a Radiation oncologist. He explained the radiation treatments that would be coming. The radiation would follow the shrinking of the prostate gland. This would be accomplished by Injections and oral medication. The next day, January 10, I had an MRI (magnetic remote imaging), which turned out to be clear. Again, the second hurdle, like the first left Cathy and I felt that the progression of cancer was contained to the prostate itself. So far so good. There was an exception that some lymph nodes surrounding the prostate were ‘marginally’ enlarged. It was explained by the medical oncologist that it may be the result of the biopsy itself and that subsequent radiation would take care of any cancer cells within the lymph nodes.

Saturday, January 12

I had breakfast with friends at a diner. They were very sympathetic and asked me to pray for our meeting and challenges that were common to the three of us. It was great to have Church family at such a time.

Monday, January 14

Cathy and I had a medical consultation where my medications and further pursuit on my treatment were explained. I had an appointment for my first injections which were to be Firmagon on Thursday, the 17th of January. As it turned out, there was a mix-up and I was lined up to get Lupron instead. We canceled the appointment and I returned on Tuesday, January 22 at 8:00 a.m. and I got started with the proper injection. They were administered by one on each side of my abdomen.

I had concerns about the spike in my PSA that might occur with Lupron. In my frame of mind, The fewer side effects, the better. The preceding Monday, January 21 Cathy and I met with a nurse. We were assured that financial matters could be discussed with the business office people concerning the financial obligations of my treatment. I advised that the VA (Veteran’s Administration) should be brought into the discussion and that there might be further financial help with the high costs of treatment. It was our family physician who made that suggestion. This I accomplished later in the day by calling the nurse of my VA doctor. She returned my call on January 23 and I gave her the fax numbers of my Oncology team and the key people that would be involved in my treatment

Thursday, January 24

Cathy and I awaited a phone call concerning connections to explain the Veteran’s Administration financial involvement. My concern was to make the VA aware of circumstances and that they refer treatment to the Oncology team. In the lexicon, it’s referred to as, Continuity of care. The thought of getting the cart before the horse occurred to me but nonetheless, it was advised by financial representatives that I bring the VA and my track record with them into the discussion. I had been registered with the VA for years and did annual follow-up examinations. He had sent me to the Denver VA Hospital at times for routine check-ups. This relationship was critical as it involves thousands of dollars that might be available above the Insurance we had along with Medicare. The insurance coverage, typically 80% would leave an outstanding balance of hundreds of dollars that we would be out of pocket expense. Our income for 1917 was $47,000. The hope was that we would qualify for financial assistance wherever it could be found.

Saturday, January 26

Cathy and I were be putting more Scripture Quilts together as the supply was low. What we have in stock wasn’t appropriate for all the requests coming to us. What we do had in our stock wasn’t appropriate for women. We did have a couple more masculine quilts for men. I hesitated to get the shop warmed up and find a meaningful project. We were considering a side-line business to our crafting by making wooden and fabric items to sell. Our daughter-in-law, who sews figure skating dresses, had an order and became active in setting up a booth during skating competitions. The exposure would get her product ideas out to figure skating club members. We later enhanced those efforts by making skater pillows. I would design shelves that could be useful to display awards. A granddaughter had determined that she wanted to devote more time to her ice-skating talents. She would have more practice time at the Ice center. Both she and her sister, had routine practice sessions. The older of the two is a morning person; she is an early riser and functions very well at that time of day. It wouldn’t have been difficult for her father to provide transportation on his way into work. The Ice facility at is well maintained and monitored by trusted adults. There was no question of the girls safety while being there. Coaches and other responsible adults would be present.

Our concerns were articulated whether Cathy and I, as grandparents, thought it was time for her to proceed with skating practices without cutting into our granddaughter’s school day. The 11-year-old is a fifth grader was maturing rapidly and wanted to take up the mantle of a more vigorous skating pursuit. Cathy’s assessment was that she was ready for more responsibility. She suggested that she be allowed the space and the time to develop her talents. School should come first but extracurricular activities are necessary and expected. She loves skating and she is good at it! Competitions are on the horizon and she has the desire to be well conditioned and prepared.

Sunday, ‎January ‎27

We went to Church today; our Youth Pastor gave the sermon. The sermon was on, ‘Moving Toward Maturity’ … taken from 2 Timothy 2:14 -16 & 22,25. Our entire family was in attendance. It’s always a blessing to be connected with friends and family any time. I have challenges but my Cancer diagnosis is one among many. As I looked around the sanctuary, there were those who have it much worse. We lost a friend, to liver cancer less than a week ago. His widow was present and in good spirits. She mentioned to Cathy that it was a blessing that her husband was taken as he had suffered a great deal in the last days.

Tuesday, February 5

The last week of January and into the following week was an event from hell. Bright and early last Monday, I got out of bed, dressed and set out to retrieve our daily newspaper. It was treacherous going as it had snowed about 1" and covered ice patches along my way. I made it up to the paper box in good time then proceeded to pick my way back to the house with guarded footsteps. I upended, air-born and off the ground what seemed like three feet then slammed down hard on my left side, arms over my head and legs horizontal. Mother earth had reached up and swatted me good and proper. As I looked through shock and a star-field of pain I don’t believe I blacked out. I knew I had to rise up and get to the house and assess damages. My head was bleeding profusely above my left ear and left shoulder was hyper-extended as I landed on the armpit. My entire left side, ribs front and back were in shock. I barely made it to safe ground without upending again.

On entering the house, Cathy was sitting at the edge of our bed ready to start her day. I told her of my dilemma. She came fully awake and applied cold compresses to my head. She poured on a half-bottle of hydrogen peroxide on my wound and asked all sorts of questions on how it happened. All I remember saying was, I fell. We called our physician and scheduled an appointment. Mondays are always hard to see a doctor, all the week-end warriors; skiers looking for treatment from accidents. Had we known how serious my injuries where we would have driven to Fort Collins and demanded an appointment. I saw our doc early in the afternoon at 1:45 p.m.

She lined up some x-rays of the shoulder on premises and put six stitches in my scalp. She also reset my left shoulder which didn’t hurt. She is battle-worn and knows about trauma treatment. At the time, her clinic didn’t have a sling to fit my left arm so that had to come later in the day. On completing what she could do for my immediate condition she looked me in the eyes, blurry that they were and said, You’re not done yet! Go over to the hospital for a CT scan of your head, we need to know ASAP, if there’s a blood clot! The imaging team got me in right away and there I had my head examined. Kitchie, I thought. After the scan, Cathy and I sat in the procedure area of several patients getting intravenous medication. We hadn’t eaten since early morning … both of us famished? I spotted a basket of crackers and string cheese which were available for the patients. We had a couple to keep our hunger pangs away. While waiting for the CT results, my doc called on my cell phone and told us to get to a hospital for, direct admission. She had gotten my examination results before we did. The idea of an ambulance wasn’t suggested so we thought, Well OK, we can handle this. Cathy had driven to the appointment and she was to continue driving the dozen miles to the hospital. As luck would have it, we were running on empty for the gasoline and had to stop at a service station. Also, Cathy had to relieve herself, the long day wearing on both she and I.

The doc had told us explicitly, Go to Admitting right inside the front entrance of the hospital and say that I was there for direct admission. This we did. The reality was that no one was in the admitting office and the volunteers near the entrance desk were dumbfounded at our request. Phone calls were made and finally a gentleman presented himself, and made more phone inquiries. At this point, I was thinking, The Gods are against us! Finally, the last fellow to address our needs commandeered a wheel chair where I plopped down and we preceded the ER section. Hadn’t we been told by our doc to skip the ER and go to direct admission? Reality proved otherwise.

Thursday, February 7

My Zytiga medication (Abiraterone acetate) finally arrived via UPS. It was a long time coming since my diagnosis on December 26. There were several financial decisions to be made and waiting for things to happen was exasperating. Given my ambition to be thorough with the financial implications of getting started proved to be accurate. My late uncle who gave me words of advice years ago as a young adult rang in my ears. It’s not good to be poor; it’s not good to be old. To be old and poor is bad.

The costs of my primary medication; Zytiga was twenty-four hundred dollars for starters. Every month thereafter, our co-pay would be between $400 and $600 a month depending on my individual case. This we were told by the Radiation team at one of our meetings early in the process. Cathy and I, along with the advice of our doc sought help from the Veterans’ Administration. As a result, we were happy and much relieved that we did!

People don’t know what is available until they ask as financial help is concerned. Earlier in my association with the VA, I had a colonoscopy performed. I had been registered with the VA since almost the beginning … following my honorable discharge from the Army in 1969. It paid off to maintain that relationship. My primary care provider in his private practice, at the time, asked me to undergo a colonoscopy and suggested a local clinic. On making the appointment, I was told by a support staffer to arrive at my appointment and bring a check for $935.00. My thoughts were, What am I buying insurance for? Instead, I contacted the VA, set an appointment and received a bill in the mail several months later for $9.00. I was a fan!

The costs of Zytiga was no exception. I contacted my VA Clinic and told my health care provider’s nurse of my concern. She got the ball rolling and contacted a third party. A liaison service coordinated these matters between insurance companies. Cathy’s prayers and my own were answered when I received a letter dated January 30, 2018, that all expenses would be covered. We were elated … the closest thing we ever came to winning the lottery!

There was another bump in the road which I eluded to earlier concerning my falling on snow and ice in our driveway, the brain bleed and partially dislocated shoulder. The hospital stay was interesting and informative. Before I could start on the cancer regimen, I had a two-night hospital stay because of my injuries from the fall. It had started a brain bleed.

I was wheeled down to the ER section of the hospital. Ironically, the security officers at the station asked if I had any guns or knives. My life could have been hanging by a thread and they should ask such a thing … duty! As it was, they did corral Cathy and ran her through the metal detector. There were steel loops on her purse and that made the alarms go off … busted! Eventually, they let her through and we were taken to one of several exam rooms where I had the usual vitals taken, blood pressure and air saturation. The trauma doctor was to be with us shortly. Shortly means different things to different people … forty-five minutes later the trauma surgeon, arrived.

The questions that he asked me were to be the common dialog for the next two days by any nurse or doctor to enter my room in ICU. Do you have headache? Are you dizzy? Do you know where you are and why you are here? What day is it? I would answer all this ad nauseam until my release two days later. They had to assess if I was, ‘out of it.’ I played the game and got an ‘A’ on all tests.

My first room in ICU was elaborate with all the latest gadgets. The blood pressure cuff attached to my right (good) arm was activating to take my blood pressure every fifteen minutes day and night. So much for cat napping and restful sleep. My left arm was in a sling due the shoulder separation. The bed was akin to a prone strait-jacket … no room to move even if I could. I was beginning to feel the effects of pain in the left shoulder and rib cage when the blunt force on my fall created a lot of the damage. I hung on for the ride.

The nurses were great! They brought me pain medication every six hours which consisted of two 500mg Tylenol tablets. I reneged on taking any oxicodone. I didn’t want to wean off the heavy stuff later. Tylenol seemed to do the job. Cathy was with me until 8:30 the first evening and kept me company. Periodically the Neurology PA and nurses would drop by and monitor my signs … again the questions. They also said I would be subjected to second CT scan to see if there was improvement with the brain bleed. The scan was to be done later that evening. It came at 1:30 am the following morning. It was explained that they had a ‘full house’ and the CT scanner was popular 24 hours a day. I waited my turn. The technician was out of the room … had to pee. I cut her a pass … it was a few days before my 74th birthday … I pee all the time!

Our youngest son dropped by before the CT scan, said, He couldn’t stay away and just wanted to see me. We had a good talk, then he went home. He had to work later that day. I managed to sleep a couple hours between about 4:30 and 6:30 a.m. The tight squeeze of the blood pressure cuff didn’t wake me. For that I was grateful. I managed my own bodily functions about three times during the night … a nurse assisted me to stand and use a urinal device albeit my left arm in the sling. All the monitoring connections had to be disconnected to accomplish the task. She asked if I needed her help to zero in on the peeing events and I told her that I had plenty of practice. She had a chuckle and maneuvered me back into bed, reconnecting the monitoring system. I was ready for sleep.

It would come as a surprise of all the trauma team doctors and specialists who would enter the room the following day and monitor my convalescence. I had visits from Speech Therapy specialists and others drumming up business following my discharged. I did set appointments for follow-up with the neurosurgeon physician assistant, and my own doctor to see how I was progressing. Fair enough.

Saturday, February 9

I had no complaints about the food served while I was confined to ICU. The first evening, I ordered Chicken marsala which turned out to be a delight considering I hadn’t eaten anything substantial for 24 hours. The kitchen knife provided proved to be challenging … my left arm in the sling. I reminded myself of a two-year-old getting the hang of table-ware. The nurse offered to cut my food but I soldiered on to the best of my ability. I was purposely starved in the event I had to undergo surgery. Puking is not allowed! Blood may have accumulated in my cranium and surgery was still an option.

After more exams and questions, it was determined that I was on the mend. The next morning the nurse suggested the Breakfast burrito which seemed heavy. I went with the Cream of Wheat. I could teach the food preparers a thing or two about Cream of Wheat. It turned out to be bland as wall-paper paste. I took it in stride for I was raised in a time when aunts and uncles told about the starving kids in Europe. They would have considered themselves lucky to have wall-paper-paste. Moving on toward evening it was some kind of meat dish with mashed potatoes which were my life time standard. The next morning, along with a room change to an adjacent wing, I had French toast. The toast was, Texas toast, too bulky for what I had in mind. I ate less than half. I was regaining my appetite.

Later after my second night in the hospital, I was grilled by the therapy specialist. He took me for a stroll in the hall and through locked doors to the interior fire escape. I was checked out climbing and descending stairs … I passed. Later, another specialist came to the room grilling me on seventh grade geography. Surprisingly, I knew that the capitol of Vermont was Montpellier. Again, I passed. Our son Steve who was in the room at the time didn’t know that one. The nurse that I had for the check-out was very thorough and patient going through the process of putting me back out on the street. There were pages of dos and don’ts on being discharged. I was feeling fortunate that I had not been committed to an asylum where it might be more difficult escaping the hospital. I thanked the Lord for small favors.

The ride home, Cathy at the wheel, was like a prison break. I proved relentless as a back-seat driver. I counted the times she made infractions remembering my time at truck-driver training in Phoenix. I did manage to keep most thoughts to myself. Cathy was with me through most everything and still managed to keep commitments with her Quilting ministry. Entering our driveway was like returning to the scene of a crime where I was bludgeoned by dark forces that perpetuated this whole series of events.

Monday, February 11

The following weekend we attended a blessed event … a sharing of our niece’s baby shower. It will be her first, a girl, due mid-March. A friend acted as hostess in her home. As it turned out, several family members attended. It made for a party atmosphere where our niece received many useful gift items. A Taco bar was set for our enjoyment. The expectant mother looked radiant in her final weeks before the baby’s arrival. My late Aunt Esther always reminded me, Any time you have an opportunity to fortify family values and connections, you should take the time to do so. This was one of those rare occasions. Unfortunately, relationships unraveled and some participants of the gathering severed ties. Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. Sir Walter Scott …

Thursday, February 14, 2019 – Valentines Day

Ad-ver-si-ty … There are many synonyms for the word ‘adversity’ in most dictionaries. I look back on many times growing up and into adulthood when I faced adversity. As a student in college, I graduated in December of 1980 with a major in English and minor in Psychology. I learned during the college years that people face adversity on many levels. The key to surviving the many pitfalls we all run into is not the problem itself … rather, our reaction. There are consequences for our actions and we must learn to make the right decision at the right time. Why me? The answer, Why not me? A great many people have been told that they have health problems, have failed in a relationship or been fired from a job. They are in good company! What do we do about adversity? Own the health problem or a job loss, take Christ along through the midst of your concerns. God sacrificed his own son that our souls might be redeemed. In the secular sense, if a door closes, open another door because that’s what doors do. There are people to meet and greet that God has put in our path. They will help us along our way … and we are not done praying until assured that God’s grace is working in our behalf … we are blessed come what may.

… ‘Thou go not, like a quarry-slave at night, scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, like one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.’ William Cullen Bryant

I had several days of sitting in our living room looking out the window to the north, thinking about that tasks we face and how we will continue to ask that God’s will, work in our lives. Life is convoluted as those mountains out our picture window but we have a loving father in heaven … he is on our side.

Saturday, February 16

Friends from Church, dropped by for a visit this morning. Marilyn is an active participant in Cathy’s Scripture Quilt ministry … they had to compare notes on a new pattern. The group has gifted fifty-four quilts during the last twelve months. I often go with Cathy when we present quilts to men. The quilts would be considered a signature lap quilt. They are a good size measuring 42 X 63 inches and very comfortable for a throw, for someone sitting in a recliner. Cathy has led the group of approximately ten women for the last six years and counting. As I came on line for accepting one, I’ve used it often and I have become familiar with the scriptures that are hand-printed by Cathy. Marilyn had constructed my quilt and most of the ladies try to turn out two or more in any three-month period depending on how much time they contribute. It’s a worthy cause and most all people on the receiving end are grateful for the gift. It’s humbling for Cathy and I to participate in the lives of people who share their thoughts on what life has thrown their way. Older people are waiting for someone to come along-side for a moral boost or to simply lend and ear. Two-thirds of the quilts go out to people going through cancer treatment.

A friend, Don and I had a chance to compare notes as the ladies consulted in Cathy’s sewing room. He had gone through the same regimen