Picture yourself on the summit of a high mountain in the Sierras. The view in every direction goes for hundreds of miles. To the south is Mt. Lyell and Mt. Ansel Adams, the east Mt. Dana and Mt. Conness, and about 3,000' below the tips of your toes lies Tenaya Lake. You have arrived at the 11,200' peak of Mt. Hoffman.
Years ago, when Dino was just a teen, we made the ascent to this glorious place and sopped up the most spectacular views and emotional highs in all of Yosemite. Mt. Hoffman is the geographic center of God's summer home, Yosemite National Park, and that day remains instantly accessable to me. During the climb, we found ourselves momentarily surrounded by a storm (the black rolling thunderheads were actually below us, encircling the mountain) and we took refuge in a small outcropping of rocks. Normally, one would never climb during nasty weather, but that morning began as a blue-sky day and we were three quarters of the way up the mountain.
The storm passed and we made it to the summit around noon, each of us silent, in awe, captivated completely by something we'd never before experienced. I quietly, almost respectfully, pulled a walkman from my pack and passed the headphones for each to take a breathless listen and fully complete the panorama - the Largo movement of Dvorak's New World Symphony.
I felt compelled to speak, "Someday, when one of you is facing a crisis of some sort or just a terribly stressful day, wherever you may be, whether in a high-rise or by the ocean, remember this moment. No matter what may happen to you, this place, this picture will always be here just as you see it now."
Let's visualize this for Dean. The view of a thousand miles, snow-capped peaks, a swirling gentle wind. That view is God. As you inhale, you feel millions of fresh energy cells fill your body, stimulating your senses like the dawn of a blue-sky morning. Breathing out, you watch the shriveling cancer cascade down the rocks, breaking into pieces and ultimately turning to fine dust. Inhale the good, exhale the bad. Do this whenever you think of Dean.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Chemo's Dosing Dem Cells Outta Me Body
(As dictated by Dino to Dick)
Hi gang, Dino back in control here for the moment. It's now been 24 hours since they started my chemo treatment and there are lots of sighs of relief happening from a great many family and friends.
Thus far (knock on wood), I have yet to feel any seriously detrimental side effects; in fact, the drugs have made me lazy today and seem to have helped the pain level. We are unclear of the complete protocol, but we will let you know when we know more.
Very happy to be back at Alta Bates after five days at Alameda. We needed to be in Alameda to receive the pain pump. However, the quality of care at that facility simply does not measure up to what Alta Bates has to offer. To give you a short example, when I asked for a 10mg dose of Dilaudid, the docs at Alameda seemed so shocked and were so reluctant to provide this -- even though it was standard at Alta Bates -- that they made me wear a permanent EKG unit to check my heart function. This stupid unit caused me a considerable amount of discomfort and irritation for the five days I was there. I don't want to slag Alameda too much, but suffice it to say, we're all very happy to be back at Alta Bates.
Medically, there are a lot of niggling side issues that have kept us from getting chemo to this point, but when push comes to shove, we needed to begin chemo and blow out the cancer that's in my body. I won't bore you with the many details of these finer points that have held us up, but some were serious enough to force the doctors to err on the side of caution. Now, it's time to endure the protocol and take it as we go from there. If the treatment leaves me feeling anything like I do today, then I will consider myself to be truly blessed. Something tells me it won't be this easy the whole time, but we'll just take each day as it comes.
I have received several notes and e-mails recently indicating that I need to inject more of my presence back into the blog. I hear your messaging loud and clear. All I can say is that for the past two or three weeks, I have really not had the mental or physical energy to put together a substantial blog post. As we move through chemo and also deal with the recovery period in each cycle, I hope to begin a more reliable routine in which I can keep you all updated. A friend of mine said last weekend "We will always be here for you, but you need to sometimes make yourself available to us." I totally agree with that statement; each and every one of you deserves to know exactly what my current situation is. To that end, I have asked my Dad to take "dictation" which he is doing now and I will continue to use my parents as a resource so that you can read my thoughts through their fingers.
As for visitors, I know there are many of you that have expressed interest in coming to see me, and that makes me immeasureably happy. Unfortunately, my energy levels go up and down at a whim so often that making advance plans can be difficult. Please understand that most visits should be held to about twenty minutes or less; this is simply because several occasions of long visits have led me to pretty severe exhaustion and pain that is not easily controlled. I would love to see all of you guys, and I know that when the time is right, I will.
So that's the big news for the week. Now it's simply a matter of enduring whatever it is chemo has to offer. It may be a few days before I update again or I might have Dad or Mom help me with one. Outside of that, just waiting for football season to get started. Hope this blog brings you a little bit closer to where I am in the current moment. Keep livin', keep lovin' and enjoy your hot summer afternoons. With much love,
Dino
Hi gang, Dino back in control here for the moment. It's now been 24 hours since they started my chemo treatment and there are lots of sighs of relief happening from a great many family and friends.
Thus far (knock on wood), I have yet to feel any seriously detrimental side effects; in fact, the drugs have made me lazy today and seem to have helped the pain level. We are unclear of the complete protocol, but we will let you know when we know more.
Very happy to be back at Alta Bates after five days at Alameda. We needed to be in Alameda to receive the pain pump. However, the quality of care at that facility simply does not measure up to what Alta Bates has to offer. To give you a short example, when I asked for a 10mg dose of Dilaudid, the docs at Alameda seemed so shocked and were so reluctant to provide this -- even though it was standard at Alta Bates -- that they made me wear a permanent EKG unit to check my heart function. This stupid unit caused me a considerable amount of discomfort and irritation for the five days I was there. I don't want to slag Alameda too much, but suffice it to say, we're all very happy to be back at Alta Bates.
Medically, there are a lot of niggling side issues that have kept us from getting chemo to this point, but when push comes to shove, we needed to begin chemo and blow out the cancer that's in my body. I won't bore you with the many details of these finer points that have held us up, but some were serious enough to force the doctors to err on the side of caution. Now, it's time to endure the protocol and take it as we go from there. If the treatment leaves me feeling anything like I do today, then I will consider myself to be truly blessed. Something tells me it won't be this easy the whole time, but we'll just take each day as it comes.
I have received several notes and e-mails recently indicating that I need to inject more of my presence back into the blog. I hear your messaging loud and clear. All I can say is that for the past two or three weeks, I have really not had the mental or physical energy to put together a substantial blog post. As we move through chemo and also deal with the recovery period in each cycle, I hope to begin a more reliable routine in which I can keep you all updated. A friend of mine said last weekend "We will always be here for you, but you need to sometimes make yourself available to us." I totally agree with that statement; each and every one of you deserves to know exactly what my current situation is. To that end, I have asked my Dad to take "dictation" which he is doing now and I will continue to use my parents as a resource so that you can read my thoughts through their fingers.
As for visitors, I know there are many of you that have expressed interest in coming to see me, and that makes me immeasureably happy. Unfortunately, my energy levels go up and down at a whim so often that making advance plans can be difficult. Please understand that most visits should be held to about twenty minutes or less; this is simply because several occasions of long visits have led me to pretty severe exhaustion and pain that is not easily controlled. I would love to see all of you guys, and I know that when the time is right, I will.
So that's the big news for the week. Now it's simply a matter of enduring whatever it is chemo has to offer. It may be a few days before I update again or I might have Dad or Mom help me with one. Outside of that, just waiting for football season to get started. Hope this blog brings you a little bit closer to where I am in the current moment. Keep livin', keep lovin' and enjoy your hot summer afternoons. With much love,
Dino
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The Chemo Has Started
As of early this evening, Dino is finally getting his first round of chemo (four different drugs with continuous drip over the next four days). This morning however, started with another bump. The surgeon who was to install the PortaCath (a semi-permanent port in Dino's chest to use mainly for the infusion of chemo drugs) decided that since Dino still has some sort of infection and a slighly elevated temperature, he wanted to wait until next Monday to do the surgery for this port.
Another depressing moment - until late this afternoon when a nurse came into Dino's room to say that they would be starting chemo shortly. I asked if she knew the port had been held up until Monday and she said that she had just spoken to Dr. Cecchi, Dino's oncologist and he directed her to start chemo immediately, port or no port. So, for now they are using the PICC line instead. Like us, Cecchi simply didn't want to wait any longer.
So, let's pray that the next four days will begin to knock back the tumor. I think we've got to put up the "No Visitors" sign again (until Dino gives the go-ahead).
I know there's little miracles happening here, so keep pushing them our way. This afternoon, after Mary returned to Santa Cruz (and prior to hearing of Cecchi's order to start right away), she sent out an e-mail to her group of friends asking them to pray for the removal of all these continuing obstacles. It was shortly after that e-mail went out that I called her from Dino's room to tell her that Cecchi said, "We're going now!"
And yesterday, some of you may have noticed a brief note in response to Monday's blog (from a fellow named Trent). I picked up on it immediately and contacted him. He's here in the Bay Area, and in 1992 had surgery for a "retro-peritoneal myxoid liposarcoma" - a 20 lb. tumor in fact. Almost identical to Dino. It seems he had been watching Dino's blog for some time and finally decided to weigh in. Since this particular form of cancer is so rare, we're hoping to put he and Dino together soon.
Sorry to be so short, but it's late and I'm really tired. Hang in there, gang.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Another depressing moment - until late this afternoon when a nurse came into Dino's room to say that they would be starting chemo shortly. I asked if she knew the port had been held up until Monday and she said that she had just spoken to Dr. Cecchi, Dino's oncologist and he directed her to start chemo immediately, port or no port. So, for now they are using the PICC line instead. Like us, Cecchi simply didn't want to wait any longer.
So, let's pray that the next four days will begin to knock back the tumor. I think we've got to put up the "No Visitors" sign again (until Dino gives the go-ahead).
I know there's little miracles happening here, so keep pushing them our way. This afternoon, after Mary returned to Santa Cruz (and prior to hearing of Cecchi's order to start right away), she sent out an e-mail to her group of friends asking them to pray for the removal of all these continuing obstacles. It was shortly after that e-mail went out that I called her from Dino's room to tell her that Cecchi said, "We're going now!"
And yesterday, some of you may have noticed a brief note in response to Monday's blog (from a fellow named Trent). I picked up on it immediately and contacted him. He's here in the Bay Area, and in 1992 had surgery for a "retro-peritoneal myxoid liposarcoma" - a 20 lb. tumor in fact. Almost identical to Dino. It seems he had been watching Dino's blog for some time and finally decided to weigh in. Since this particular form of cancer is so rare, we're hoping to put he and Dino together soon.
Sorry to be so short, but it's late and I'm really tired. Hang in there, gang.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Monday, August 4, 2008
Baubles, Bangles and Bumps
As most of you know, Dino has a new bauble, his SynchroMed II pain pump. Over the last four days, his doctor has readjusted it, slowly zeroing in on what will be the best pain management. Dr. Behravan's goal is to get him to a "3 or under" on the 1-to-10 pain level chart. I think Dino is probably very close to that now, but it's still a bit of a balancing act.
It feels to me like the pump may possibly need to be adjusted downward, primarily because Dino's spent the last day hallucinating quite a bit. Last night was one of those "no sleep" nights for both Dean and I because he spent the entire night talking to countless unknown characters, sometimes very loudly, sometimes singing, mostly unintelligible (except for when he told someone, a waitress I suppose, that "I'll have the scrambled eggs with bacon, but I'm not going to pay $1,100.00 for it!")
One of the bangles that accompanied the pain pump is a hand-held unit whereby Dino can give himself a "bolus" (an extra dose) every four hours if he needs it. He simply holds this device over the pump and presses several icons on a small computer screen to activate the bump-up. However, Dr. Behravan advised us today to hold off on the bolus for awhile because Dino appears to be addicted to the high levels of Dilaudid (I know, we don't like it either, but it goes with the territory) and thus it's time to begin a partial withdrawal down to a point that still regulates his pain but doesn't prompt hallucinations. So, the baubles and the bangles do serve their purpose, but nothing is perfect and we still have to get this one under control.
Regarding the bumps, we found ourselves saying shortly after his surgery (almost eight weeks ago) that things were probably going to get worse before they get better. I've kind of given up on that phrase and shifted into a different gear by saying that things aren't necessarily getting worse anymore - rather there's a continuing series of bumps that will be occuring for awhile. After all, we haven't started chemo yet (maybe by the end of this week), but we know that will be a bumpy road. And who knows what else is on the horizon.
I do know one thing, and maybe you can weigh in on this - we've got to get Dino mentally (and physically) back into the driver's seat. He's become accustomed to being waited on hand and foot (out of real necessity, of course), but he needs to take back some control for himself now. As an example, I ask him everyday if he wants to do a blog, but he passes on it. Same with having visitors, he doesn't want any. I know his world has gotten extremely focussed of late, but I think it's time to start the re-expansion process - time to get his juices flowing again. Let me know what you think.
Stay tuned for the chemo schedule. As soon as I hear, you'll hear. Love ya.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
It feels to me like the pump may possibly need to be adjusted downward, primarily because Dino's spent the last day hallucinating quite a bit. Last night was one of those "no sleep" nights for both Dean and I because he spent the entire night talking to countless unknown characters, sometimes very loudly, sometimes singing, mostly unintelligible (except for when he told someone, a waitress I suppose, that "I'll have the scrambled eggs with bacon, but I'm not going to pay $1,100.00 for it!")
One of the bangles that accompanied the pain pump is a hand-held unit whereby Dino can give himself a "bolus" (an extra dose) every four hours if he needs it. He simply holds this device over the pump and presses several icons on a small computer screen to activate the bump-up. However, Dr. Behravan advised us today to hold off on the bolus for awhile because Dino appears to be addicted to the high levels of Dilaudid (I know, we don't like it either, but it goes with the territory) and thus it's time to begin a partial withdrawal down to a point that still regulates his pain but doesn't prompt hallucinations. So, the baubles and the bangles do serve their purpose, but nothing is perfect and we still have to get this one under control.
Regarding the bumps, we found ourselves saying shortly after his surgery (almost eight weeks ago) that things were probably going to get worse before they get better. I've kind of given up on that phrase and shifted into a different gear by saying that things aren't necessarily getting worse anymore - rather there's a continuing series of bumps that will be occuring for awhile. After all, we haven't started chemo yet (maybe by the end of this week), but we know that will be a bumpy road. And who knows what else is on the horizon.
I do know one thing, and maybe you can weigh in on this - we've got to get Dino mentally (and physically) back into the driver's seat. He's become accustomed to being waited on hand and foot (out of real necessity, of course), but he needs to take back some control for himself now. As an example, I ask him everyday if he wants to do a blog, but he passes on it. Same with having visitors, he doesn't want any. I know his world has gotten extremely focussed of late, but I think it's time to start the re-expansion process - time to get his juices flowing again. Let me know what you think.
Stay tuned for the chemo schedule. As soon as I hear, you'll hear. Love ya.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The Pump has Landed
After a three hour procedure late yesterday morning, the pain pump (we'll have to give it a name) has now taken up a good and proper residence just under the surface of Dino's left abdomen. We haven't seen it yet because it was still covered with gauze yesterday, but we expect that it might be felt as a slight bump similar to a pacemaker. It's about 3 1/2" in diameter and 3/4" thick with a catheter tube (also under the skin) that circles around to his back and into his spine. It represents the ultimate form of immediate pain relief.
Dr. Behravan, who performed the operation, says that Dino will finally be able to dispense with all the pills, patches, and IV's and rely solely on the pump for pain relief. I know you're exhaling with the same sigh of relief as us - his pain for the last seven weeks has been constant and unforgiving. I suspect he'll do a major blog on the issue of pain somewhere down the line.
It sort of feels to me like Phase One, if you want to call it that, is rapidly coming to a close. His surgery, recovery and pain management appear to be behind us now and so we move into Phase Two: chemo.
His oncologist, Dr. Cecchi has been pushing to start the chemo phase and, barring any other complications, I expect that will begin soon. There is a side issue, or complication if you will - his continuing bowel obstruction (I'm starting to sound like I'm the guest lecturer at a physician's seminar, this is not good, I gotta get back out into the sun). At any rate, the obstruction may be likely due to the spread of the tumor, but our preference is to start pounding away with chemo and address the bowel problem from some other avenue.
There, now that that's out of the way, let me say that today begins with goodness. All days do really. We just get sucked into dealing with the garbage first and forget about the more important things, like the love you're sending our way. As an example, from the many prayer groups pouring their waterfalls of wonderful thoughts over Dino, one put into their regimen yesterday a "prayer chain" wherein each member of the group took one specific hour out of their day to pray him through the pain pump installation. So, I'll say it again - today begins with goodness.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Dr. Behravan, who performed the operation, says that Dino will finally be able to dispense with all the pills, patches, and IV's and rely solely on the pump for pain relief. I know you're exhaling with the same sigh of relief as us - his pain for the last seven weeks has been constant and unforgiving. I suspect he'll do a major blog on the issue of pain somewhere down the line.
It sort of feels to me like Phase One, if you want to call it that, is rapidly coming to a close. His surgery, recovery and pain management appear to be behind us now and so we move into Phase Two: chemo.
His oncologist, Dr. Cecchi has been pushing to start the chemo phase and, barring any other complications, I expect that will begin soon. There is a side issue, or complication if you will - his continuing bowel obstruction (I'm starting to sound like I'm the guest lecturer at a physician's seminar, this is not good, I gotta get back out into the sun). At any rate, the obstruction may be likely due to the spread of the tumor, but our preference is to start pounding away with chemo and address the bowel problem from some other avenue.
There, now that that's out of the way, let me say that today begins with goodness. All days do really. We just get sucked into dealing with the garbage first and forget about the more important things, like the love you're sending our way. As an example, from the many prayer groups pouring their waterfalls of wonderful thoughts over Dino, one put into their regimen yesterday a "prayer chain" wherein each member of the group took one specific hour out of their day to pray him through the pain pump installation. So, I'll say it again - today begins with goodness.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Monday, July 28, 2008
Edna
It was bound to happen sooner or later. Friday night a few of Dino's buddies dropped in, with the proviso to keep it short, fifteen minutes or so, but Dino responded favorably under the circumstances and the evening was bright and fun. This from a guy who, as we speak, has four bags of various meds feeding into a PICC line and a nasal drain from his nose to a collecting container. By Sunday he was basically paying for his indiscretions and so we've shifted into "No Visitors" mode for the rest of this week. But that's not the story here.
Saturday a few friends returned, among them Tracy and his wife Erica. Her mom was due to arrive shortly. During the preceding week, several of us had been discussing the issue of spirituality and were wondering if Dino had a spiritual adviser. His friends didn't think so and my only recollection was that Dean had been involved with a Christian group, Young Life some twenty years ago. Of late, we had not discussed the subject with Dino because he hadn't indicated that it was on his list of hot topics. That is, not until Edna arrived.
When Tracy introduced his mother-in-law, we had just stepped out of the room and down the hall for some knockout pizza that Chris and Virginia brought in. Edna's presence immediately filled the waiting area and my piece of pizza found its way to a side chair. She was a vivacious, dynamic lady, this Edna, and within moments, she had recruited everyone into a prayer circle inviting the Lord and his angels to take a whack at Dino's recent detour down Cancer Lane.
Normally, this would not be my thing, but then again I had never met Edna. Within moments, we were ready to dispatch last year's Super Bowl winners to the trash heap. She had met Dino several years ago, but assumed he would not remember her. We immediately towed her to his room - he immediately remembered her. (One could not not remember Edna.) Over the next twenty minutes, the room was filled with a wonderfulness that is best described as "You had to be there." She did a laying on of hands, this woman who said she wasn't a minister. Dino was filled with emotion (as were all of us) and he asked for a second round which, of course, she obliged. Then, as quick as she appeared, she was gone. I didn't get her number, didn't need to; I know she'll show up again.
Back to basic reporting. Today's Monday and only two days left until the install of the spinal pain pump. I won't tell you yet what we're going through with the insurance people just to pull this off. You'd only be pissed. I'm sure Dino will "elucidate" at some point in the future.
Regarding his pain level, the nights are the roughest. Last night he was up to a six on the pain scale. This may be a combination of both surgery pain and tumor pain. The sarcoma continues to grow (though by how much we don't know). That's why chemo MUST get underway as soon as his pain is consistently manageable. His condition is serious, and though these blogs don't spend a lot of time dealing with the downside, we're all aware of it. The cakewalk ended long ago - now we're into the tough stuff. Consequently, the "No Visitors" sign is posted this week - with Dino apologizing profusely, which of course, he doesn't need to do. By next weekend, we'll see how he's doing and take it from there. Naturally, you'll be the first to know, so everybody stay strong and keep the faith. Let's blast this sucker to smithereens! Thanks and all our love.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Saturday a few friends returned, among them Tracy and his wife Erica. Her mom was due to arrive shortly. During the preceding week, several of us had been discussing the issue of spirituality and were wondering if Dino had a spiritual adviser. His friends didn't think so and my only recollection was that Dean had been involved with a Christian group, Young Life some twenty years ago. Of late, we had not discussed the subject with Dino because he hadn't indicated that it was on his list of hot topics. That is, not until Edna arrived.
When Tracy introduced his mother-in-law, we had just stepped out of the room and down the hall for some knockout pizza that Chris and Virginia brought in. Edna's presence immediately filled the waiting area and my piece of pizza found its way to a side chair. She was a vivacious, dynamic lady, this Edna, and within moments, she had recruited everyone into a prayer circle inviting the Lord and his angels to take a whack at Dino's recent detour down Cancer Lane.
Normally, this would not be my thing, but then again I had never met Edna. Within moments, we were ready to dispatch last year's Super Bowl winners to the trash heap. She had met Dino several years ago, but assumed he would not remember her. We immediately towed her to his room - he immediately remembered her. (One could not not remember Edna.) Over the next twenty minutes, the room was filled with a wonderfulness that is best described as "You had to be there." She did a laying on of hands, this woman who said she wasn't a minister. Dino was filled with emotion (as were all of us) and he asked for a second round which, of course, she obliged. Then, as quick as she appeared, she was gone. I didn't get her number, didn't need to; I know she'll show up again.
Back to basic reporting. Today's Monday and only two days left until the install of the spinal pain pump. I won't tell you yet what we're going through with the insurance people just to pull this off. You'd only be pissed. I'm sure Dino will "elucidate" at some point in the future.
Regarding his pain level, the nights are the roughest. Last night he was up to a six on the pain scale. This may be a combination of both surgery pain and tumor pain. The sarcoma continues to grow (though by how much we don't know). That's why chemo MUST get underway as soon as his pain is consistently manageable. His condition is serious, and though these blogs don't spend a lot of time dealing with the downside, we're all aware of it. The cakewalk ended long ago - now we're into the tough stuff. Consequently, the "No Visitors" sign is posted this week - with Dino apologizing profusely, which of course, he doesn't need to do. By next weekend, we'll see how he's doing and take it from there. Naturally, you'll be the first to know, so everybody stay strong and keep the faith. Let's blast this sucker to smithereens! Thanks and all our love.
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
Friday, July 25, 2008
A Nice Little Pik-Me-Up
Dino got a Pik line put line put in today (actually PICC, but can't remember what it means). It's a type of intravenous line that allows for delivery of pain meds AND nutrients in the same dual tube. Much better than the old IV that keeps getting moved from arm to arm to arm. (I think Dino's gone thru six or seven arms worth of various needles).
He keeps saying "Cancer's not for sissy's" and there's some real stories that have occurred over the last few 3AM's - way more than I can write about, but when he gets his energy back, he'll talk it through wit ya. Mary and I are staying in his fifth floor "suite" at Alta Bates - big room with a great view which he has yet to really enjoy. But he will soon. The spinal pain pump got approved yesterday and gets put in next Wed. (I know, we don't want to wait either, but . . . please see title of last blog).
At any rate, you know I like to keep it short. This is Dino's Journey and he's got lots to tell so stay tuned. For now, I'll just borrow the words of an old rocker, "It's been a long, strange trip."
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
He keeps saying "Cancer's not for sissy's" and there's some real stories that have occurred over the last few 3AM's - way more than I can write about, but when he gets his energy back, he'll talk it through wit ya. Mary and I are staying in his fifth floor "suite" at Alta Bates - big room with a great view which he has yet to really enjoy. But he will soon. The spinal pain pump got approved yesterday and gets put in next Wed. (I know, we don't want to wait either, but . . . please see title of last blog).
At any rate, you know I like to keep it short. This is Dino's Journey and he's got lots to tell so stay tuned. For now, I'll just borrow the words of an old rocker, "It's been a long, strange trip."
Dick Scoppettone
Dino's dad
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