Goodbye, Richard Kipling

Hi, I’m Gary Ebersole, welcoming you back to Camp Codger with an episode that I never wanted to record. This is a belated goodbye to Richard Kipling, co-founder of the Camp Codger podcast, who died recently after a stroke. He was the inspiration for two old guys like us venturing into the world of online broadcasting. One evening over dinner a few years ago, Richard declared, “We’ve got some good insights about getting old, and we should do a podcast.” For 72 weeks, we did just that with our co-host, Randy Schultz.

Richard was one of my very best friends (it’s a small group since I’m not the most social animal), and his passing leaves a huge hole in my heart. I truly feel at a loss for words, which, as Richard would have noted, is not really a good thing for somebody trying to record a podcast. That said, a few things come to mind as I write these words. The first was a wise observation by Camp Codger listener Mike Riordan, a mutual friend of Richard and me. Mike reminds those of us mourning our dear friend that grief is the price we pay for loving so deeply. Mike also left me with the Japanese phrase “tomodachi wa eien desu” which means “friends are forever.” So very true, Mike. Thanks for the thoughts.

I was also reminded of a short, illustrated excerpt from a 2012 radio interview Terry Gross recorded with children’s book author and illustrator Maurice Sendak. I discovered it when I was grieving the loss of my first wife, and its poignancy still brings me to tears. In the interview, Sendak tells Terry that he loves life but was at peace with aging and dying. He says that the hardest part of getting old is losing friends. In his words, “I cry a lot because I miss people. I cry a lot because they die, and I can’t stop them. They leave me, and I love them more.” I know how Sendak feels about losing friends. It was a powerful, moving conversation. The video excerpt is only five minutes and is well worth watching. I posted the link below, and also in the episode show notes.

I used to think that the idea that my world would grow smaller as I aged was a cliché. I was wrong. My world is smaller now. Good-bye, Richard. I’ll miss you.

Link to the Terry Gross interview with Maurice Sendak: https://www.nytimes.com/video/magazine/100000001970456/an-illustrated-talk-with-maurice-sendak.html

Getting Old Isn't for Sissies

Gary discovered that a few weeks ago when he was faced with the constraints of aging. He came up with a mantra for dealing with getting old after the reality of hiking up Picacho Peak almost proved too much for his 76-year-old body.

A dinner table discussion for seniors—an “organ recital” and talk of falling

In this episode, Gary tells listeners about a dinner with friends that started with the usual "ills and pills" discussion and closed with the premise that Dirty Harry (Clint Eastwood) might have some good advice for seniors dealing with slowly diminishing capabilities. A fun evening with some interesting insights.

Sam Toperoff died this year, and that makes me really sad.

I never met Sam, but as all good writers do with their readers, he created a connection. I felt I knew him as a friend after reading his essay In The Land of the Very Old. There are no geographical coordinates for this strange place. It’s a state of mind Sam conjured up about aging. In this sweet piece of writing, he describes his journey from living in the “old country” to his new home in the “land of the very old.”

Last March, I posted a podcast episode recommending Sam’s essay to Camp Codger listeners. While preparing the podcast, I reached out to Sam, asking his permission to use a photo he took at his home in the French Alps, where he lived with his wife, daughter, and grandson. Sam never replied, but I assumed he would be okay with it since the episode was about Sam and his essay.

A few weeks ago, I became curious about what Sam was up to and discovered the sad news…Sam was no longer with us. It matters to me because I’m approaching “the land of the very old,” and he was a guide. I’m not at the border yet, but I can see it in the distance. Thanks to Sam’s depiction, the “land of the very old” seems like a good place. Not perfect, of course, but, as he says using a bittersweet chocolate simile for the “land of the very old,“ “the bitter is really not so terribly bitter, the sweet, when it comes, is surely a good deal sweeter than it has ever been.”

With his first essay about his new life in the “land of the very old,” Sam made a connection with thousands of readers. The response by his new friends, hundreds of who responded with emails, caused him to write a follow-up essay. In the Land of the Very Old, Part 2, which was published after his death, Sam continues his story about residing in this strange new place. And he must have been planning on keeping the conversation open since he even suggested he was getting a visa to the “land of the very, very old” as he was approaching his 91st birthday.

I was moved by Sam Toperoff’s passing because he was an inspiration. Not headline-news inspiration about a random old person doing some impossible feat for an 80-year-old. No, Sam inspired me because he continued to keep doing what he loved and did so well. At 90, he was still creating and writing, even as he was aware of the creeping limitations that make everything just a bit harder as we grow older. I continue to do this podcast at 76 because Sam is showing me the way.

Thanks, Sam. We never met, but I’ll miss you. I was looking forward to your take on your life in the Land of the Very, Very Old. I know it would have been a good read and a pretty good place to be.

Thanks for listening. I encourage you to read Sam’s essays. They’re long but worth the time. The links are below.

In the Land of the Very Old In the Land of the Very Old, Part 2

Would you like to know when the co-hosts of Camp Codger get together to talk about a new topic? Subscribe to our weekly Camp Codger newsletter to receive an email notification each time we publish a new episode. You can also subscribe and listen on your favorite podcast app. And, if you enjoyed this episode about Returning to the Land of the Very Old, please click the Share button below and Like Camp Codger on our Facebook Page. Finally, have some feedback for the old codgers? Leave a comment below or send an email to

Gary returns with an episode about receiving an insane EOB (Explanation of Benefits) from United HealthCare.

Today, it’s a rant, but I promise to make it a short tirade. The trigger? My latest EOB statement from my healthcare insurance company. To be honest, I seldom download and open these statements. I’m a big fan of Medicare and have a really good Advantage plan thanks to my late wife’s retirement program. Until this year, I have had the good fortune of being relatively healthy—no major illnesses or chronic medical issues. I typically incur few medical expenses, and it never costs me more than a small copayment for any procedure. My healthcare insurance company? UnitedHealthCare. Yes, the purported Darth Vader of the healthcare insurance evil empire.

On to my rant. So, I opened this new statement and was blown away by the year-to-date numbers it presented. The top line was enormous. My providers—the labs, imaging facilities, clinics, and doctors who delivered services—billed UnitedHealthcare over $256,000 from January to October. I know I was diagnosed and treated for prostate cancer, which isn’t cheap, but a quarter of a million dollars? I might add that I did not spend one night in a hospital or have an operation in a surgical facility. Now, the relevant numbers were the actual payments to the providers and my share of the costs. UnitedHealthCare paid a bit under $33,00, 13% of the billed amount. My out-of-pocket share was an incredibly small $521.

This begs the question about what kind of screwed-up system, knowingly and with a straight face, bills anywhere from five to eighty times the negotiated cost of a medical procedure? Every provider knew precisely what they would get paid by my Medicare insurance company before they submitted the claims. These are pre-authorized payments, yet they still billed these egregious amounts. Why did a urologist bill over $23,000 for a 15-minute, in-office procedure, knowing they would get paid $279?

As I noted, I have the good fortune to have a decent Medicare Advantage plan that pays for almost everything. My concern is for the poor patient who sees an enormous unpaid balance and wonders if they will be required to cover it. Sure, there’s a note in the EOB saying you should not be billed for the balance, followed by another notation that the patient may need to pay a copayment, coinsurance, or deductible. So, am I on the hook or not? No wonder there is so much anxiety today around medical treatment and its costs.

In my humble opinion, the medical-industrial complex of healthcare providers and insurance companies maintains this evil pricing charade to take advantage of the disadvantaged. These obscenely inflated prices are the starting point for unfortunate patients who may be underinsured or even uninsured. How many families have lost homes or gone bankrupt based on their inability to pay these fantastical prices?

Explaining the complexities of the healthcare payment system is way above my pay grade. Still, these thoroughly confusing payment practices can partially explain the anti-healthcare sentiment rampant in our country. And we haven’t even touched on the burden of self-advocacy placed on patients dealing with complex medical issues. Or the simple frustration of just trying to ask their healthcare provider a simple question. Leave a MyChart message? No response. Call the office? Listen to a long phone tree before being sent to voicemail. Leave a voicemail message? Ignored. As you can probably tell, I’ve dealt with a few challenges over the last nine months.

My tirade was triggered by a stunning Explanation of Benefits statement from UnitedHealthCa...

Gary decided his prostate cancer was not yet in the rearview mirror.

I know. I wrapped up the Prostate Papers project in the last episode. It was planned as the final episode of the series. I didn’t want to write about my prostate cancer any longer, and I’m sure you didn’t want to listen. After all, in my thinking, it was over. My cancer staging was encouraging (favorable intermediate risk), my state-of-the-art treatment was scheduled, and the long-term prognosis was excellent. I was optimistic. A couple of weeks in San Francisco for my radiation sessions, and it would be in my rearview mirror, disappearing into the past.

Well, it didn’t quite turn out that way. After returning home to Santa Fe, I debated for several weeks whether to leave the Prostate Papers project closed and on the shelf or record a new “final” episode. I’m not looking for sympathy, but I decided I wanted to be honest with my listeners, especially my new buddies in The Club, who graciously shared their prostate cancer experiences with me. So, one more chapter in the Prostate Papers, and it’s over. I think…who knows?

Anyway, what I discovered, even with all my research, is that prostate cancer lingers. It’s not “one and done” for most patients. My optimism and belief that I was in control masked the reality of most cancers. Even with successful treatment (surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy), a period of recovery can be long. And there are side effects. Boy, are there side effects!

I should have known this intimately. After all, my first wife underwent every treatment in the books for breast cancer. It was treat, recover, deal with the side effects, and then repeat. It was part of her life (our life) for seven years. I was denying reality, assuming my cancer was different.

It wasn’t. In my case, I was hit almost immediately after my last treatment with a serious, radiation-caused urinary tract obstruction. I now need to self-catheterize several times a day. It surprised me. Notwithstanding my over-the-top research, this treatment side effect never appeared on my radar. On a positive note, my radiation oncologist says it should diminish over the next few weeks or months. A couple of friends who experienced the same issue after their radiation treatment also reassured me that they recovered from this uncomfortable side effect. I’m guardedly optimistic, but patience is in order.

By the way, we haven’t even touched upon the well-known, long-term outcomes of radiation treatment for prostate cancer. These side effects can take months, even a year or longer, to show up. It’s become painfully clear to me that prostate cancer will always be part of my life.

So why am I reopening the Prostate Papers and sharing my post-treatment status? My primary motivation is an obligation I felt to guys who are dealing with their prostate cancer issues and who listened to, or might tune in to this podcast series. There are enough challenges and decisions in the diagnosis and treatment of prostate cancer that full disclosure of the potential side effects can be overlooked. It happened to me, and I did a ton of research throughout this journey. I thought I was well-informed but discovered I wasn’t. If this can help a few of my prostate cancer buddies avoid unpleasant surprises, it’s worth the effort.

So, my advice is simple. First, accept the fact that prostate cancer is now part of your life. You might be among the few lucky ones who complete their treatment with no short- or long-term side effects and never have a recurrence. That would be great but don’t assume it’s a given. Prostate cancer takes its toll on many of its victims.

Second, avoid nasty surprises by doi...

The wrap and final episode of The Prostate Papers. It's time to draw this story to a close.

Gary Ebersole here, back with the closing chapter of The Prostate Papers. You might have noticed the recent “dead air” from the Camp Codger podcast. I haven’t abandoned Camp Codger, but I couldn’t bring myself to deliver another long episode about prostate cancer. Sometimes, you can get too close to a topic, and this was one of those topics for me. Anyway, my personal experience with the scourge of prostate cancer has reached a significant juncture, and I feel a need for closure, hence this final episode of The Prostate Papers.

I went to Denver in early July for my biopsy, and the results came back a week later. To understand how I ended up 400 miles from Santa Fe, where I live, for this critical procedure, read my blog post on the biopsy dilemma. As you might expect, I hoped the pathology report would let me move into “watchful waiting” or even “active surveillance” mode. Unfortunately, the Denver urologist who performed the biopsy and did the cancer staging said that I needed treatment—surgery, radiation, or even focal therapy. He said it wasn’t urgent, but I did need to do something sooner (measured in a few months) rather than later (a year or two).

For the curious, I have chosen to undergo external beam radiation therapy using the SBRT protocol rather than have a radical prostatectomy via robotic-assisted laparoscopic surgery. What a mouthful! Anyway, the treatment will occur during the last two weeks of October in San Francisco. Yes, I’m also traveling out of state for my treatment. I explain my rationale for this decision in a blog post on CampCodger.com.

Let me leave you with a couple of closing comments. First, an important point to leave listeners with is that your level of involvement in your diagnosis and treatment is your choice. You can follow my over-the-top path and go into a research frenzy. It was perfect for a geek like me since understanding how things work matters. My immersion in the world of prostate cancer has led to the diagnostic choices I made. It also determined my treatment choice. That said, what works for me may not work for other guys. If you have an excellent urologist that you trust and a support system to give you wise counsel, the low-research approach can be the right path for you.

Second, for the guy or his family who must know as much as possible about the diagnosis and treatment of prostate cancer, do your online research, as I suggested in an earlier episode. Then check out Dr. Patrick Walsh's Guide to Surviving Prostate Cancer. This comprehensive book loads you up with detail, often more than you want. I was well-informed when I finished reading the book.

So, it’s a wrap for The Prostate Papers. Developing these episodes has been cathartic for me, but the interaction with my new “prostate buddies” in our special club has been even more amazing. Thanks, guys. It really made a difference.

Before we go, let me reassure our listeners that I am convinced everything will turn out well. My doctors and all the data I hav...

In The Club episode of The Prostate Paper, Gary discovers new friends with a shared experience dealing with prostate cancer.

Gary Ebersole here, back with another chapter of The Prostate Papers. When I closed the last episode, I said I’d discuss the challenges of choosing the optimal diagnostic path. I had recorded and edited the episode and was about to publish it. It was at that point I decided I was feeling drained after my intense research on prostate cancer. At the same time, I was dealing with my challenges in trying to gain access to the medical system. I have a good Medicare Advantage PPO plan, yet two of the top cancer centers in the country (I’ll name names—MD Anderson and the Mayo Clinic) refused to take my insurance, which would require me to go out of network and pay out-of-pocket for charges not covered by my plan. To add to my frustration, I discovered my geographic location had a significant impact on my choices for diagnosing and treating prostate cancer.

So, I went looking for something positive from this prostate cancer experience and didn’t have to go far. I have been overwhelmed by how open men who are dealing with prostate cancer have been. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t expect guys to talk openly and candidly about sexual dysfunction, urinary incontinence, and even bowel problems. When all is well, we may joke about these topics but don’t talk seriously about them. That all changes when a man receives a prostate cancer diagnosis and mentions it to someone else who is dealing with the same thing. The sharing begins.

It's a club with a singular and obvious membership requirement—being treated for prostate cancer. Some men may be among the lucky who are diagnosed with indolent, slow-growing cancer and avoid treatment for now. However, even with active surveillance as the treatment, you’re still in the club. It’s a lifetime membership.

As a result of this podcast series, my Camp Codger chapter of the club already had a couple of members. The first guys in, Ron and Jimmy, were incredibly open about sharing what they had learned during their diagnosis and treatment. Several other guys among friends, acquaintances, and family had listened to the first Podcast Papers episode and surprised me by welcoming me to their club. Thanks to Kevin, Jack, Mike, Dan, and Owen for reaching out. It’s not a club I was interested in joining, but it has a great roster of members. We had some terrific conversations and email exchanges.

I also had the good fortune to meet Robert and Charlie through introductions from my friends Stewart and Peter. And Doug, a visitor to our Airbnb guest house, was a surprise club member. Over a glass of wine one afternoon, Doug mentioned that he had prostate cancer, which triggered an extended discussion about what I could expect.

I’ve really discovered the importance of community. The dialogues have been heartwarming and, at times, intense as we discussed the challenges of dealing with prostate cancer and its diagnosis and treatment. Talking about it makes a difference. A heartfelt thank you goes out to the members of my club. I am forever grateful for your support and friendship.

If you’re joining the prostate cancer club, my advice is to be open to talking with other guys. The first conversations may be a little awkward, but you’ll learn a lot, and you may make some new friends. I’m not typically a joiner, but in this case, I stepped out of my usual pattern. I’m really glad I did. Btw, ask your urologist to point you to local prostate cancer support groups. For some men, it’s an excellent way to connect with this community.

We get back on track with the next chapter of The Prostate Papers when I return to the topic of the biopsy dilemma.