Houston? We Have a Problem.

That was a roller coaster of a week. On the balance, probably more bad news than good, but having new information is a good thing in and of itself. This post runs a bit long as this was a very full week, but I think it’s important to paint the full picture at the outset. Before we start, please accept my sincere and heartfelt thanks for all of the thoughts, prayers and best wishes that you’ve sent my way. You have meant a great deal to my family and me. Here goes…

We flew to Houston last Sunday to meet the good folks at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. I thought we were going for a day (a three hour tour, a three hour tour…), but ended up being there for a week. I was accompanied on the trip by the C-Team- my lovely wife and my longtime friend Dr. Joe Chewning. As fate would have it, Joe is a stud pediatric oncologist who has worked at a number of august institutions such as Sloan Kettering in NYC and UAB. Yes, it is totally baller to travel with one’s own personal oncology consultant (who’s a lucky boy?)

On Monday we met with Dr. Milind Javle. A very pleasant man that I suspect is about my age. We had a chat about what he saw in the imagery, and a bit about what he thought the eventual course of action would be. He confirmed what we knew (cancer), but suggested that it was probably more advanced than we had been told previously. He also suggested that he didn’t think that surgery was an option at the moment. He explained that he would be discussing my case with the full team on Tuesday, and that we would see him again on Thursday for a more thorough prognosis based on that meeting. He scheduled another CT scan for that night, changed up some prescriptions, and bid us adieu.

By my reckoning, that left us with two days in Houston, TX with nothing to do but hang around the cancer center waiting for the phone to ring. Eff that. Three years ago I made an architectural bucket list. In that short time, I have made remarkable progress in ticking buildings off the list (I’ve written about a number of them: Paris, Rome, Spain, the Summer of Sullivan). As fate would have it, we were a mere four-hour drive from another target, Lou Kahn’s Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth. The building is a jewel in an almost literal sense. The play of light is what makes precious gems sparkle, and it is the play of light on concrete and travertine that makes the Kimbell such a masterpiece. The Renzo Piano addition is also very nice.

We woke up on Wednesday and hustled back to Houston. It was a good thing that we did not linger in DFW, as Dr. Javle scheduled an appointment with Dr. Herlong, the liver specialist. Part of my problem is that my tumor has spread to my bile duct, constricting it and causing a bile build up in the liver that results in jaundice (and itching like a MF). Apparently, within the liver I have a number of complex strictures. Back in Chattanooga we had a doctor perform an ERCP to put a stent in the duct to help relieve the jaundice, but by his own admission the placement wasn’t perfect.  Somewhere along the line we were told that PSC is a distinct possibility, and Dr Herlong echoed this concern. Of course, this would suck as PSC has no cure, and with my big-ass tumor I am not a candidate for a liver transplant.


As we left his office and walked through this massive medical building, I had a moment. Everyone in that building is there because of cancer. As we walked through the Sundial Room (a large space for folks to hang out), there were dozens of folks in various stages of their fight, many looking quiet frail and pitiful. I remember thinking to myself “My god, look at all these poor souls. How lucky are we.” Oops. Despite the fact that I feel good (and look great, if I may), I am very much in the shit as they are. Exactly how deep, we would discover the next morning.

Our Thursday meeting with Dr. Javle was a difficult one. The official prognosis was stage four gall bladder cancer (whereas before the consensus seemed to be stage three). The tumor has spread from the gall bladder to the lymph nodes, the bile duct, part of the liver, and part of the colon. Having researched my condition over the past few days I was prepared for the life expectancy portion of our conversation. Despite that preparation, it is no fun to hear the doctor explain that people diagnosed at stage four have a typical life expectancy of a year if they undergo treatment (and six months without). No bueno. I do not recommend you have this conversation with your doctor.

Our discussion then turned to how we are going to beat this thing. As you might suspect, we’re going to take things step by step, and upon the completion of each step, we will evaluate our options. Cure, in my case, may be elusive. Apparently, this adenocarcinoma likes to come back. If we manage to lick it this time, it will likely come back for more (but we’ll worry about that later). In the meantime, the first goal is fix the jaundice, as we can’t start chemo until my bilirubin levels come down (significantly). Toward that end, Dr. Javle pulled some strings to get their rock star endoscopy guy to do another ERCP to see if we can get a better stent, and investigate just how bad things are in the liver.

Shortly before lunch on Friday we went in for the ERCP with Dr. Jeffrey Lee. He introduced himself by calling me “the famous Mr. Rushing” and “the Ironman”, so he clearly understands that I’m highly susceptible to flattery. He mentioned in passing that Dr. Javle was probably the best gall bladder cancer doctor in the world (so I’ve got that going for me…which is nice). As for the procedure, he explained that I have a number of complex strictures in the bile duct that extend up into liver. His goal was to remove the existing stent, and see if he can do a better job of bypassing the strictures and allowing the liver to drain- with the understanding that this appeared to be a very tall order.

After the procedure, I woke up, emerged from the fog, and met again with Dr. Lee. His verdict: “I am elated!” He pulled us over to a computer monitor to show us his handiwork. He explained what was done in the previous ERCP, then described (with obvious pride) what he was able to do. The upshot is that there is no PSC, the ducts above the worst stricture are communicating, and he was able to get a great stent in to drain the liver. The next day we flew home to Chattanooga. (Update: in the three days since the ERCP, the bili levels have been slashed by half. Bueno.)

So a long, tough week ends with what appears to be our first win. I’m back home with Denise and the boys, and everyone seems to be in good place. I can’t begin to describe the outpouring of support and love that you have sent my way- please know that I love you right back. Stay tuned for next week, it's going to be a fun one...

C on The Big C

Well, the blog retirement didn’t last very long did it? As Jordan once returned to the game he loved, I find myself back in front of the keyboard. The reason for my return, however, is more serious than the fact that I couldn’t hit a curve ball. A couple of weeks ago I was diagnosed with adenocarcinoma- stage three cancer of the gall bladder that has spread to the lymph nodes, liver, and bile duct.

How in the world I got gall bladder cancer has perplexed all of the doctors. There are only about 4,000 cases of it in the U.S. per year (as opposed to ~350,000 cases of breast cancer). It is also typically found in Native or South Americans, women, people with gall stones, and typically when people are in their 60’s, 70’s, or 80’s. This particular cancer is quick, aggressive and deadly. By the time it gets to stage three, the five-year survival rate is in the single digits. I’m not daunted by the statistics though- if it was one in million (figuratively) to get it, one in twenty to beat it doesn’t sound so bad. That said,  I’m not into watching the scoreboard while there is still game left to be played.

After hearing the news I decided that I would write about my experience. While the old blog was a thousand words a week, once a week, I’m not exactly sure what this will look like. I suspect I will keep you updated on the situation, and probably venture into the realms of architecture, urban design and food as before. I don’t suspect the posts will be as long, and I don’t suspect I will be able to always keep a regular schedule (although that is my goal). For now, I will try to keep to the schedule of the old blog- look to your inboxes on Tuesday mornings.

I have heard from a lot of you, and I greatly appreciate your thoughts, prayers and best wishes. Keep sending me your positive vibes, because I'm sending them right back at you!

I know that a number of you receive the blog via an automatic email subscription. If the shift of topic from urban design to cancer is not your cup of tea, or you end up receiving too many emails, I fully understand if you unsubscribe (it won’t hurt my feelings ;)

The End.

On the first day of 2011, I wrote my first post for this blog. Four days and four years later, this is the last. The events of the past few months have put a squeeze on my writing time, and rendered the proposition of writing on this topic a bit more complex. Funding has been secured to establish an urban design resource for the city- the Chattanooga Design Studio. I've been asked to help get the organization up and running, and for the foreseeable future, that is what I'll be up to. I came to the conclusion that a personal blog on urban design couldn't coexist with this new position. I have reservations about my ability to continue writing without getting the new organization in hot water. (Starting a non-profit is going to be difficult enough without the handicap of my big mouth.) But before I go, there are few things to pay off:

-I started with a lament on the Declining Standard of Downtown Building. We might say that things have improved slightly since then. A number of big projects, however, are slated to being soon. The quality of this new development and the contribution to the public realm will show if we're back on track, or if the decline continues.

-From the first word of this blog until the last, the state of Alabama has had a representative in the college football national championship game (and the year before as well). “The last five seasons will go down as the greatest college football run for any state in the country in the entire history of the game. Five years. Two schools. Five national championship game appearances. Four national championships and one near-miss.” While the streak may be over, I don’t believe the ‘Bama dynasty is. We’ll be back.

-Coming in to today, I wasn’t sure how to pay off the cooking angle. Tonight’s dinner was a thunderbolt of inspiration. My cooking over the past four years has been all over the place- molecular cuisine with foams and spherification to asian inspiration, and offal orgies. Of late, I’m back to basics in the form of French classicism. Tonight I made a by-the-book béchamel a la Julia. I added too much pepper, and when I tasted it, I pulled an Anton Ego. This French mother sauce is made by adding scalded milk to a butter/flour roux. It turns out that this is the exact recipe that BaBa (and countless other Southerners) used to make the gravy of biscuit and gravy fame. Béchamel is nothing but a fancy word for gravy. I suppose I've always known this, but this was the first time I realized it. In a parallel universe I would've used this as a departure point for a post on the beauty of simplicity and the possibilities of variations on a theme- a mother sauce. In this universe, I'll simply say that the city is merely a series of variations on basic themes- get the basics right and the city will flourish.

The blog has been a tremendous experience. I’m not sure that I can convey exactly what it's meant to me, but it's been a very special part of my life. In the end, the best thing I can say about it is that it has been fun. When I grow old, some of my fondest memories will be of laying in bed on Saturday and Sunday mornings, soccer on tv in the background, the boys crawling on top of me, computer in lap, writing stories about Chattanooga. Thanks for reading, for your encouraging comments, your retweets, ‘likes’ and forwards. I may write again, but there's no telling when or what I'll write about. 'Til then… Forever and forever, farewell! If we meet again, then we’ll smile.
 If not, then this parting was well done.

That Was Quick

Although it seems like it just started, 2014 is drawing to a close.  For as short as it seemed, it was just as sweet. In that spirit, here is a short but sweet year in review...

2014 was a year of travel. Between youth sports, work and personal travel, I’ve been everywhere, man. (In my best Johnny Cash voice)…I’ve been to… New Orleans, Des Moines, Grinnel, Cedar Rapids, Malaga, Granada, Algona, Madison, Montgomery, West Lafayette, Nashville, Columbus, Cambridge, Cordoba, Atlanta, Newark, Knoxville, Auburn, St. Louis, Tuscaloosa, San Jose, Quepos, Birmingham, Boston, Manuel Antonio, Seaside, Chicago, Cincinnati, Davenport, Sidney, South Pittsburgh, Miami, Huntsville, Pachuta…I’ve been everywhere. My friends who are real travelers might scoff at my puny list, but for me, that’s a lot of ground to cover. I didn’t mind at all though- the family accompanied me on many of those trips, and I’ve vaulted up the Delta Medallion chart.

I suspect that the blog has suffered for my travels. This may be true, but I spent some time this morning reviewing the past year of posts, and there are some decent ones in there. Over the past four years I have found a curious pattern. The posts I think are great receive little attention, and the ones I don’t think much of tend to be the ones that the get the most play. This year was no different.

The most viewed post of the year was the one in response to the silly donut mural kerfuffle. Let the record show that the numbers were not due to my writing prowess or insight, but the fact that David Cook linked to it somewhere along the line. (This was one of the humbling reminders that while I feel chuffed to be dealing in hundreds of readers, the real writers deal in thousands and tens of thousands).

The Summer of Sullivan was a tremendous experience. I read everything I could about the man, then traveled the Midwest see his extant works. A lot of great things happened this year, and this experience is near the top of that list. Writing about it as the summer unfolded was one of the great experiences of my life.

There was, of course, plenty to write about here in the Scenic City. I wrote a post in January celebrating all of the great projects that were in the offing for downtown. (Twelve months later a similar list of projects would be more real and more impressive.) A few months later, I told you what I want. And, toward the end of the year we had a little fun. 

Looking into the 'ol crystal ball, it appears that next year will be a big one for downtown. I agree with Ms. White, it appears that 2015 will be the Year of the Crane. Bring it on!

Cañas, Caves & Cathedrals

This story starts, as it must, on a soggy Sunday night in a cave in the Sacromonte. While I saw many amazing things in the days and hours leading up to this point, the cave stands out as all wonderfully unexpected experiences do.

The morning started with a stroll around Granada with the Joneses. My fraternity brother Jem had traveled with his lovely wife from Henley-in-Arden to meet us. We milled around the baroque cathedral for a bit before engaging in the now familiar routine: find a spot, order four cañas of cerveza, eat tapas, repeat. Tapas are one of humankind's great conceptions- for every round of drinks one orders, the kitchen serves up a tasty treat. The more one drinks, the better one eats. On this afternoon we had dogfish, boquerones, squid, ibérico ham, croquettes, and I ordered a portion of callos (tripe). This session was what hipster brunch wants to be when it grows up. Although I could have continued along this track for the rest of the day, we had things to see.

Callos. AKA the best tripe dish on the planet.

By this time, we were playing with house money. Two days prior, the missus and I got to see the Mezquita de Córdoba- truly one of the architectural wonders of the world. A thousand years ago, Córdoba was the intellectual center of western Europe and its most populous city. At the time it was under the rule of Muslims who were tolerant of the Jewish and Christian minorities. The great mosque was constructed and expanded over the course of several centuries. When the Christians conquered Córdoba during the reconquista, a cathedral was constructed square in the middle of the mosque as a sign of the triumph of Christianity over Islam. The result is an interior that is a curious mix of Christian and Islamic symbolism and architectural vocabulary. This was one of the two buildings that I was dying to see, and it did not disappoint.

Fueled by cerveza and tapas, the crew was ready to take on the other architectural marvel on my list. The Alhambra is a magnificent fortified Moorish palace on the Sabika hill in Granada. The walk up the hill, through the forest was quite nice and a fitting procession to the complex. I lack the time and vocabulary to do the Alhambra justice. It is a rich and complex mixture of muscularity, delicacy, and sumptuousness. The Nasrid palaces are described as one of the most beautiful places ever created by the hand of man. It is one of the rare of places that actually lives up to such hype. The bit of incongruity on the site is (once again) due to a Christian intervention. The Palace of Charles V, a renaissance addition within the walls of the compound, is another not-so-subtle monument to the triumph of Christianity over Islam. Charles’ work notwithstanding, the whole of the experience was amazing, and in the end they had to kick us out at closing time. As afternoon gave way to evening, there was only one thing to do…tapear.

Our hotel was in the Albayzín, a medieval neighborhood built up the side of a hill opposite the Alhambra. The agglomeration of buildings creates labyrinthine, cobbled streets not much wider than my outstretched arms. These occasionally give way to small plazas. There is no resisting the charm of the place, but walking up and down the hill to the city center on precariously paved paths is a pain in the ass. After a day walking the Alhambra, we decided to stay up in the Albayzín for the night. This proved to be a wise decision as we had possibly our best tapas experience at a random dive on the top of the hill. Football (soccer) on the tele, cerveza in hand, and tapas on the table- repeat. After a long day of walking, drinking and eating, I was ready for bed. The Englishman, however, had another idea.

Flamenco? Bullshit, said I. Having been raised by a mother and stepfather who both danced and taught ballet, I have some level of appreciation for the art. Despite that appreciation, the idea of going to cave inhabited by gypsies to watch Flamenco did not appeal to me in the least. In the end I was game (largely in part because the restaurant closed, it was 11:00pm on a Sunday, and the caves provided the last hope for vino tinto.) As one might suspect, late Sunday nights are not exactly prime time for performance. Our smooth talking Englishman was able to coax a group of performers to do one last show for us (no doubt on the strength of the pound sterling). We were ushered into the space, a cave with whitewashed walls just wide enough for a row of chairs along each wall with a narrow space to pass between them. For the next hour, the four of us watched five dancers, three guitarists, two singers and a drummer pour their soul into a performance. The cacophony of instruments, voices, handclaps, finger snaps, and foot stamps was stunning, beautiful, and not at all what I expected. The Mosque and the Alhambra were the reasons we traveled to Andalucía, and they did not disappoint. The flamenco, however, was one of those great moments in life when beauty is experienced without the weight of expectation.

Spain is in the books, and its back to work in the Scenic City. 2014 was a great year and I’m thankful for all of the blessings that have come my way. 2015 is shaping up to be a big one, although not without the aforementioned weight of expectation. More on that in a couple of weeks…

In the meantime, have a very merry Christmas and/or a spectacular holiday season!

Meme Monday

And now we're playing with house money. Another National Championship would suit me just fine, however, anything more than beating the Vols, beating Auburn, and winning the SEC, is just gravy. As we approach the holidays, please keep Urban Meyer in your prayers- hopefully a run-in with Saban won't spark health issues and retirement...again. Roll Tide.

Everyone with a computer has been exposed to a meme of one form or another by now. For the most part they are stupid, but every now and again there is a gem to be found. Rather than resist, I will jump the shark and embrace them this week. So here they are, a virtual cornucopia of Chattanooga urban design memes for your viewing pleasure. For the most part they are stupid (please don't get offended).

In the News

As you will read below, this post is a week late. My bad. Such is life. In the meantime the family had a great Thanksgiving and order was restored to the universe.

After spending most of the week in the unreasonable cold of the upper Midwest, it was nice to be back in the relative warmth of the Scenic City. With the soccer travel season having just ended, the family looking forward to a relaxing weekend at home. Everything was going to plan until Saturday morning when I read that tickets were still available for the Alabama game. Being highly suggestible, I immediately corralled the family (including the sole Awbun fan), hustled them into the car, and hit the road. Never mind that tickets can always be found for a game, and that the opponent was an FBS school that the Mocs blew out 51-0,  I had to go because TICKETS WERE STILL AVAILABLE! By the time I regained my sanity we were passing through Trussville, so I just rolled with it.

This was the first Bama game for our youngest. I hoped he and I could go by ourselves to his first game (the same way that it happened for his brother) but life had other plans. In any event, everyone had fun, there was no fighting, and the Tide overcame a slow start to win going away. All of this is to say that my take on matters of urban design in Chattanooga has been gleaned solely from the media.

I was going to label these three things the Good, the Bad, and The Ugly. Aside from that being cliché and overused, however, I’m not even sure that’s a perfectly accurate description. Let’s just say that I had three gut reactions: a positive one, a negative one, and one feeling of revulsion (not covered in that order, mind you).

Big news of the week is a bad thing- a multi-million dollar housing project had some buildings collapse after a stiff wind. I have no comment on site plan or building design, so feel free to draw your own conclusions on those. The problem the developers now face is that (fairly or unfairly) the project may be perceived one with inferior product. Not a good thing- I definitely hate to see that.

A tangent to that incident induced my feeling of revulsion. This has nothing to do with the development and everything to do with our community. I came across the TFP article on the collapse via my Facebook feed. Let’s be honest, the comment sections of online articles are often more informative and entertaining than the articles themselves. In this case, the thread was a sad commentary on the level of discourse in our community.  The comments moved swiftly from thoughts on construction quality, to how unsafe downtown is, to the ethnicity of the construction workers, to the legal status of the construction workers, to immigration policy, to how bad the president sucks, in no time flat. The comments were as xenophobic as they were uncivilized.

Brighter note: things are moving right along in Center City. I saw this article regarding an adaptive reuse of a vacant building. Add this to the list of projects (like this, and this) that follow our work on River City Company's Center City Plan. I’m excited about the future of the heart of downtown- great things are in the offing.

I am very much looking forward to the week ahead- celebrating blessings and cosmic luck with family and friends. Ya’ll be good and have a great Thanksgiving!