My buddy Jim needs your help



Not the best image of Jim Solomons, but he's working.

 My friend Jim isn't asking for any help, and he is in need of nothing physical.

But he needs your help. In the form of prayer, well wishes, positive thoughts, good vibes or whatever you want to call it. And he needs this karma now.

Jim has gone through the same cancer treatments I did, just a few years later. The technology and surgery used to fight cancer of the esophagus had been honed by the time it got to Jim. He made it through the chems and rads seemingly fine. His doc was my doc, Dr. Lee Zehngebot. His surgeon was my surgeon, Dr. Joe Boyer.

I was in the hospital a bit over three weeks after my surgery before Christmas of 2007. So when I went to visit Jim a week after his surgery, I figured he was just out of ICU, which was my timetable. One week in the ICU and then it's off the the cardiac care unit for recuperation.

Rather, Jim was being prepped for discharge. One week after surgery. Miracle Man. The esophageal cancer terminator. He'll Be Baaack (insert Arnold's voice here) -- to work.

That was the first time we'd met face to face. As he was preparing to leave Florida Hospital. We'd known one another from the zillions of calls we at the Orlando Sentinel made to the Orange County Sheriff's Office public-information team, which Jim, a civilian, helped direct.

So it was a great day. His wife Judy was there and Jim was in pain but all smiles.

Since then, Jim did get back to work, and I think the Orlando media collectively sighed -- he's the best that office has or had for quite a while. But he's has had a rough go since. He had some kidney issues. He had a minor -- if you can call it that -- stroke. He's tried hard to bounce back.

Unfortunately, so did his cancer.

Jim is back on chemo and as bad as the first batch was -- and take it from someone who knows, it was bad -- this batch is worse. He's home. He can't really eat, so he gets his nutrition from a bag in a backpack and an IV drip. Yum. He's nauseous and couldn't even hold down a milkshake today, he said. Trust me, that means it's rough going.

Jim has another major infusion of chems in a week or and he's hoping things will improve.

So am I. And so should you, because Jim truly is one of the most caring and kind individuals I've ever known. And I know many kind, caring people -- and you all know who you are. Seriously.

So when I heard Jim today I know he was feeling bad, down in the dumps, ill and sick to his neo-esophagus (formerly known as his stomach).

Right now, Jim can use your positive vibes. As you know, I'm not big into the prayer thing. But like I've said during my treatments and follow-up surgeries, prayer may not help but it surely will never hurt.

So if you take a moment when you read this, think of Jim and his family and all he's going through. And let's see if this positive feedback helps.

It certainly can't hurt.