Dan & Co. due in an hour

It's shortly after 8 p.m. on Friday, August 6 and sitting aboard a flight from Dallas to Orlando is brother Dan Kohn, his girlfriend Lisa Howard, Dan's daughter Hannah Kohn and Amy's eldest daughter, Abby Jones.

Their flight is a bit late and due to land about 9:10 p.m.

We have a lot in store for them during the week they'll be here. Tonight will be a time to recover from the trip, tomorrow too. We'll show off parts of Orlando most tourists don't see, like downtown, Lake Eola and the like.

Sunday, the hard touristing begins. We've figured a schedule that can accommodate the days off of all my daughters, and I hope they travelers agree. It's funny, when the trip was planned, I had no idea I'd have to have surgery the same week, so while I'll be at all the venues with the gang, I'm sure I won't be able to enjoy everything. Such as coasters. I have a feeling I won't be riding any this week. Ah well.

Here's the tentative plan:

Sunday, we hit the beach. But not any beach; rather, we're going to travel to what Dr. Beach has called one of the world's top-10 beaches --  Fort DeSoto Park in St. Pete Beach.

Monday we'll tackle Spiderman, Harry Potter and Dr. Seuss, not to mention the Simpsons, Jaws and MIB. Yep, Universal. Fun.

Tuesday we'll have a break from the parks and enjoy the day at CoCo Key, a water resort where Karen works. The slides are fun, and with Karen at the bar I'll be the drinks would be too -- but not for me. Alcohol and my meds surely won't mix. Grrrr.

Wednesday and Thursday, with Aimee and Luis off, they, Catherine and I will visit the four Disney theme parks with the worldly travelers. Worldly of course, because I'm sure one of the trips will involve a walk around the World Showcase at Epcot Center.

Friday, well that's when Dan, Lisa, Hannah and Abby will be able to relax -- on the flights back to Southern California.

So that's the plan so far. There may just be some amendments along the way.

A mother of a day

We hada wonderful Mother's Day 2009 today.

It began with a brunch at home with all the kids -- and I mean all the kids. That's something that doesn't happen

too often. Karen, Jen, Chris, Aimee and Luis all came to the house -- which, of course, means Emily was there too.

Kimberly's gift to her mom was a delicious meal of finger sandwiches and salads and dips, and Karen contributed with a yummy fruit tree.

After lunch we all posed for a family portrait -- I think it's our first in the 2000s.

Aimee and Emily say cheese.

Then, we were off to the movies to see the latest rendition of the Star Trek saga. I think Paramount will have a new generation of Trek fans on their hands.

Aunt Jen and Uncle Chris pose with Emily.

Here are some photos of the day, and a bit lower some extra shots of you know who.

Emily's already a month old

The old-timer we call our granddaughter, Emily Nunez, turns a month old today.

She was born four weeks and three days ago at Winnie Palmer Hospital for Women and Babies and since then has really developed quite a bit. She eats, she poops, which is all normal. But she also can roll over and has done so several times. She smiled at me briefly. And during a bonding session last night, she whispered how much she loves her grandpa. Of course it sounded like a burp, but I know better.

To mark the occasion, here are some photos of Emily shot last night.

Can never get enough Emily

Aimee and Emily paid a visit to the office on Tuesday, and it was a nice chance to introduce my little granddaughter to many friends still in the office at that hour.

Here are a couple of photos taken in the newsroom. As you can see, daylight came and went as I stood in front of my desk in the same position for hours. And Emily, the official Orlando Sentinel newsroom napper, didn't budge.

Is she cute, or what? No need to answer; I already know what you're going to say.

Records come, records go

Earlier today, the 17,000th visitor to my blogs, CancerVivor.blogspot.com and kohnzone.blogspot.com, stopped by for a few.

They were greeted by either photos of a really cute newborn named Emily (kohnzone) or some less than cute images of the inner workings of my body (CancerVivor).

At the former, I was announcing the birth of my first grandchild and showing off some photos. That's pretty self-explanatory, so I'll focus on the cancer site.

There, as I have since it launched, I am trying to educate as many people as possible about esophageal cancer and how to avoid it.

So I'll rehash some things I've said in the past:

First, YES! You can get cancer from heartburn. It's not all that difficult, apparently. I did it. Just eat spicy foods -- lots of them -- mixed with greasy, unhealthy items. For a long time. That will set you in the right direction. To follow up, avoid seeing a doc about heartburn or taking meds to treat it. Then, when the heartburn fades away suddenly, think of it as a blessing that your self-medication has helped, not the condition know as Barrett's Esophagus which masks a pre-cancerous condition. If any of these symptoms occur, longtime heartburn or sudden discontinuation of heartburn for no real reason, see a doctor.

Second, esophageal cancer survival is so low because it often is diagnosed in advanced stages. For me, the tumor was large enough to block much of my swallowing, but not all. So if you find it difficult to get food from your mouth to your stomach, see a doctor. The sooner the better.

Third, statistically, esophageal cancer is growing, both nationwide and in Florida. It continues to be very lethal, as noted above. Of the 1,170 Floridians to come down with the disease, 1,010 people died in the American Cancer Society's most recent statistical report. The numbers were grim nationwide as well in 2008: 16,470 new cases and 14,280 deaths.

There's a five-year survivability rate of 34 percent for those with the cancer contained to the esophagus, as mine was, so I'm not nearly out of the woods yet. For all stages of the cancer, the survivability rate plunges to 16 percent.

When diagnosed, I was staged at 2 to 3, meaning it was advanced but had not yet spread to the lymphatic system. That's what saved my life -- so far.

Across the country, esophageal cancer is the seventh-leading form of cancer among men, claiming 11,250 lives -- or 4 percent of all male cancer deaths.

So please, please, if any of this sounds like you, get help. Get it now. Do not wait. I'm not a doctor but I can speak from experience and, sadly, this is an area in which I have experience. Be cautions and take a proactive stance.

It could save your life.

Little Emily is born

Emily Nunez was born Jan. 24, at 12:14 p.m. She weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces, was 21 inches long (tall?) and is just adorable.

Mother Aimee Nunez, my second-youngest daughter, is doing grand and her hubby, Luis, is dancing on the clouds.

Today, Saturday, Jan. 25, is the only day in her life that Emily -- if she could talk -- would be able to legitimately ask, "What do I look, like I was born yesterday?" and mean it.

I'm posting several photos so you can judge for yourself whether she's the cutest 2-day-old baby you've ever seen, or at least seen today.

Enjoy.

Emily Snoozes.

Aimee and Emily.

The happy parents with Emily.

Sometimes she gets antsy.

Yes, Catherine and I are happy grandparents.

Karen loves her little niece.

Jen wants one just like this.

Kim holds her littlest niece.

Theresa holds Emily.

Emily takes a rest.

Mom and Dad pose with Emily.

Luis takes a nap.

Grandma loves her little dumpling.

Isn't she cute?

That's my little girl.

Just when you thought it was safe...

Just like the ads for the Jaws sequel, there's always something lurking.

For me, I learned this past summer when I met my family in California, heart disease is a part of my genetic history. My father had the first of his three heart attacks at age 35. My brother Dan suffered a heart attack just a few months ago; thankfully he survived and is thriving.

So while I'm surprised that I've had some discomfort and all in the past few weeks, I'm not shocked. After all, some 24.1 million Americans had some form of heart disease, roughly 11 percent of the population, in 2006. There were 652,091 deaths caused by heart disease in 2006, ranking it as the nation's top killer with a rate of 222 per 100,000 people in the general population.

All that said, I met with Dr. James A. Miner of Florida Heart Group on Tuesday (photo from the Florida Heart Group Web site). He was concerned with the repeated chest discomfort I've experienced in the past few weeks and sent me onto the treadmill. I kept up well, though got out of breath when the tech set the machine at the Mount Everest-level climb. Dr. Miner sat in on the test and then reviewed the printouts.

Afterwards he offered this summary: "Either it's nothing or it's something." I'm happy with the former, less so with the latter. If it's something, it may be a clogged artery, meaning I'd need a stent.

To find out, on Friday I wake up very early and go in for a cardiac catheterization. This is where they slink a very thin tube up to the heart through arteries in the leg. There, with the aid of X-rays and a fluroscope, the doctor can observe the heart and decide whether there's a problem.

I've spoken to a few people who have undergone the procedure and all pretty much assured me there's a very low level of discomfort. Actually, one assistant at Dr. Miner's office said there's some pretty good pain drugs afterward. I guess that's the reward for good behavior.

I'll post updates Friday after the procedure and will tray to grab a couple of images from the doctor to post.

Meantime, it is safet to go into the water. Just watch where your step.

Remember to vote...

From The Great Schlep on YouTube.

Go to this link...

http://video.google.com/videosearch?hl=en&q=the%20great%20schlep&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wv#

I just saw this video and I hope after you view it you, too, will agree with its premise. Even if it means traveling to New York instead of Florida. Go. Get there. Make the vote count. Hurry.
- Keith

Another milestone -- 15,017

Not long ago, just a few hours actually, my two blogs, CancerVivor.blogspot.com and kohnzone.blogspot.com, went past 15,000 page views.

In the scheme of things, that's not a very vast amount of traffic. But for me, it's ginormous. That's because it means my messages of health (cancer blog) and of a reunited family (kohnzone) are getting out to at least a handful of avid readers who keep clicking here, and, maybe, to more than that on a less-frequent basis.

My key goal is to get as many people I can to understand how I acquired cancer of the esophagus so that maybe, just maybe, they will not.

(Advertising interlude here: Please remember to click on the ads on this blog, as any money raised -- so far just $31.13 -- will go as a donation to Florida Hospital Cancer Institute. But Google won't cut a check until there's more than $100 in ad revenue, so get to work!)

So I'll recap. Yes, you can get cancer from heartburn. Heartburn causes acid reflux, which splashes stomach fluids onto or into the esophagus. When it happens too often, the esophagus gets defensive. It changes and takes on some characteristics of the stomach. This change, Barrett's Esophagus, is a pre-cancerous state. It opens the esophagus and other parts of the body to developing cancer. That is what happened to me.

So, almost exactly a year ago, I was diagnosed with cancer thanks to the expert endoscopy of Dr. Philip Styne. Hurriedly, he sent me to my wonderful oncologist, Dr. Lee Zehngebot -- Dr. Z for short -- who explained a lot and hooked me up with Dr. David Diamond, my fantastic radio-oncologist, who started my radiation program like it a matter of life or death -- which, after all, it was.

First, both docs had me go into Winter Park Hospital to be outfitted with my high-tech bodily accessories -- a medical port so Dr. Z could infuse my body with wonderful chemical cocktails and a feeding tube so Dr. Diamond could be sure that if I couldn't swallow food the old-fashioned way I could drink it without it ever passing through my lips.

Then I was tattooed and set up on a radiation program, which began a day or so later. A few days after that I had my first dose of chemo, a several-hour procedure where I was doped up pretty good at first and then -- bang! -- saturated with poisons to kill the cancer, or at least keep it from spreading as the radiation bombarded the tumor. I had radiation five mornings a week for several weeks and at the same time had a new buddy -- a chemo pump that slowly dripped the chemicals into my medi-port 24/7 for the same amount of time.

Nearly two months of this went by -- all while my mom was often unconscious recovering (I hoped) from heart surgery and lung complications -- and then I was free of both forms of helpful torture.

(Remember, this is the condensed version.)

I then had a month or so of a cooling-off period. This was from mid-November 2007 to late December of that year, during which time my mom transferred to a rehab center in Orlando and my daughter Jennifer Kohn became Jennifer Kuz when she married Chris Kuz in December. The Friday before Christmas 2007, it was Dec. 21, I went under the skillful knife of Dr. Joseph Boyer, the chief of thoractic surgery for cancer patients at Florida Hospital and, yes, a Yankees fan. But first I had to undergo a PET scan, which found two "hot spots" of possible cancer and then the two biopsies -- to my liver and chest near the lungs -- to confirm that they were not cancerous.

After the surgery, I spent nearly three weeks in the hospital -- one of them in the ICU with a tube running from my stomach, out through my nose and to a suction and a TV whose sound would stay on after you bash it with your arm -- before I was able to go home weighing about 75 pounds lighter than before I was diagnosed with cancer.

After another recovery period, in which I consumed many oxycodone and then hydrocodone pills to ease the constant pain, I was cleared to return to work and in mid-February 2008 I walked back to the Orlando Sentinel's newsroom. Shocked, truly, I received two standing ovations from the many friends who supported me with cards, letters, calls, a scrapbook, e-mails and prayers during my ordeal. These are the people dreams are made of, wonderful friends and colleagues who kept me going, folks who I'll never in my lifetime be able to forget or repay for their many forms of kindness.

So in a nutshell, that is what I went through. And it's why I want to help keep others from going through the same thing. Maybe that's why I've made it this far; to keep you from coming down with this horrid disease. So I'll repeat some of the facts and tips here:

Cancer of the esophagus is among the most deadly forms of the disease and it also is among the fastest growing of the cancers, as society and work habits evolve. By the time you find out you have the cancer, it's practically too late. Luckily, it was discovered in my lower esophagus before the disease spread to my lymph nodes and the rest of my body.

I found it because it was difficult to swallow, so remember, if you find you have difficulty swallowing food or drinks, see a doctor. If you've had heartburn for a long time and it seems to have gone away without medical help, see a doctor. It probably didn't. Both problems are signs of cancer or at least Barrett's Esophagus. Remember, Tums and Rolaids won't relieve you of cancer, they just ease the symptoms of heartburn. See a doctor. Get an endoscopy by a qualified gastro doc. Listen to what he or she says very carefully.

Oh, and keep a positive attitude. You'll need it for what's to come.

But first let's pray it never gets that far.

A boat, some dolphins and us

So we're out in the Gulf on Sunday, again heading to Egmont Key, when a few friends come up next to us. We'd never met them, but new friends are new friends. So we cut the engine, relying only on sail power.

That's when the new friends -- a pod of dolphins -- really got playful.

As we're cruising at a pretty good wind-powered clip some of the mammals dove under the boat, popping up on the port side, then swimming back. One, with a bite missing from its dorsal fin, swam right up to the side of the boat at one point. There were several calves in the pod, but their mothers never let them get too close.

It was really an amazing sight.

We made it to Egmont and beached the boat as we did last time. A nice picnic on the beach and then it was time to sail.

But when we were ready to leave, the tide wasn't in our favor. It was coming in as we were going out. Another couple helped us launch off the island and we were on our way back.

Despite the tide cutting across the bow, we made it back to the marina in a little over an hour.

But we were not leaving just yet. Proving the adage that a boat is a hole in the water into which you pour money, the winch post on the trailer cracked as we were lifting the boat out of the water. So we had to hold off and I went to a nearby Walmart to buy help. I found a ratchet winch with two hooks, and one went to the boat and the other to the SUV.

It worked and we hauled the boat, stowed the gear, packed the masts and sails and made it home about six hours later.

What a day and and night. Still, the dolphins saved the day and made the whole thing worth the effort.

Yep, spills might foretell a heart attack

My brother Dan took two trips in the weeks leading up to his heart attack last month.

These trips were the type usually followed by kids screaming:
"Have a nice trip, see you in the fall." As in scraped knees, elbows and egos.

The first was during our visit out West. We were in Las Vegas when Dan returned to the hotel with a boo-boo on his knee. He said he was chatting on the phone when he somehow fell down. He insisted he was sober, but I think the rest of us had our doubts.

The second was last month during the family's annual weeklong trip to Catalina. This was several weeks after Catherine and I returned from California, where we met the wonderful people who make up my family -- the West Coast Kohns. Dan was running down a hill and wiped out.

Sister Amy Jones captured the moment with her brand spankin' new Apple iPhone (see photo above left). I don't want to disparage the high-tech G3 phone, but ... but maybe that's why the picture's a smidge fuzzy. Maybe. I'm just saying...

Today, Dan still doesn't think the falls were connected with his pending heart attack, but among the warning signs for heart attacks is sudden fainting. Not knowing why you suddenly fell might fall in that category. Dan's also the guy having severe chest pains who drove himself to the hospital rather than calling 911 for the ride.

So what have we learned?

First, call 911 if you have symptoms of a heart attack. Second, if you begin to fall for no apparent reason, see your doctor -- or an ER doc. It could save your life. Third, don't pose for your sister after falling if she's sporting a new camera.

It's a girl

OK, so Aimee is preggers, and the scans show ...

It's a girl.

Imagine.

Bit it's true.

The little lady is due early next year.

Here are some photos of the li'l critter.

See the resemblence?

The rugrat to be is looking up with her head at the right and heart to the left.

Above, the baby's foot is an inch long, as measured by the dotted line. See those cute little toes?

This shot is how we can determine her gender. Just read the words and figure it out for yourself (Hint: There's an arrow where something would be if she were a boy!).

Here she is looking upward again, with her head to the right, heart and abdomen to the left.

This is a 3-D shot of her legs, as if she were sitting, facing the right. Aren't those feet cute!

Come Sail Away

We took a little trip this past weekend. With our little sailboat. Into the Gulf of Mexico and out to sea.



It was the farthest we'd ever traveled offshore with the boat. We went from Fort Desoto Park (the best beach in the U.S., according to at least one noted expert) to Egmont Key at the edge of Tampa Bay where it mingles with the gulf.



It was really a great trip and I am glad we made it.

That's because it was more than just a trip. It was an adventure.



Sure, how big an adventure could it be?



Well, imagine a trip involving a woman overboard, a daring (work with me) rescue in the middle of a shipping channel just as a vast cruise ship was within minutes of passing, an island picnic, a sailing ship grounding on a sandbar as the red-hot sun flirted with setting and then an encounter with dolphins, sand dollars (the vicious kind) and even a shark.


I hope you enjoyed the photos...there will be more to come in the future.

A healthier brother

Somehow, Dan was able to go home Saturday, just a couple days after experiencing a heart attack.

He's much healthier now, thanks to the stent in his lower doohickey artery, or whatever it's called, that was fully blocked before.

Dan even sent me some images of his heart, before and after the near-fatal event.

The first image is the clogged heart and the second is the new, improved Dan Kohn Heart.

We have our father and his legacy of heart problems to thank. But that's OK. It could be worse.

Dan said he's feeling much better than he was last week soon after arriving to work one morning. He said he was surprised because the pain wasn't quite as bad as he thought a heart attack would feel.

I guess no one really knows what to expect.

Let's hope most of us never find out.