I never said I knew what I was talking about.

First a little cancer news. I still have cancer. Feel bad for me yet? Don't you dare!!!

I'm in my third week of the cycle and I'm just getting over some of the symptoms. I had a couple of days with a new and scary symptom, debilitating pain in my legs. The pain is subsiding, and you can bet I will be having a little chat with my oncologist about that. For now, I'm going to say that all the symptoms lasted a little longer because they increased the dose of chemo. As we are heading towards what I hope is the last few treatments, my doctor wants me to take as much of the drug as I can withstand. To be honest, while not being able to drink anything cold for two weeks, and having to deal with the neuropathy in my extremities and the pains in my legs is a less than pleasant experience, I'm not going to ask him to lower the dose. I can handle it. I may bitch and moan about it, but there is no way I'm going to let this beat me.

And now for today's life lesson from Billy.

For as long as I can remember my father always told me "be a friend to everyone you meet". He and my mother have always shown me the importance of having friends, and in return, being a good friend. As I go through my cliche "get a possibly fatal disease, spend time in deep introspection, cause now you know how precious life is" stage, I have taken some stock in my life. As I've said before, I'm rather pleased with the paths I've chosen up until this point. The overwhelming support I receive from my family and friends is a strong indicator of such. Many friends visited me in the hospital, many friends are constantly in touch to see if I need anything, many friends are checking this blog to monitor my progress. And, from time to time, I am lucky enough to get proof positive that I have good friends and that I have been a good friend. My friend Lance, a man I have known for 18 years, who I have admired since the first day I met him, who has battled his own demons with courage and strength, who I only see once a year if I'm lucky but still maintains our relationship, has written an extremely flattering and for me, overwhelmingly touching piece about yours truly. http://oldnumberseven.net/bricolage/2006/04/21/my-pal/

Thanks Lance.

Regarding Mad Max, Thunderdome, et al.

I understand that once the apocalypse comes things will change, values will slide, paradigms will shift. Of course, things will be different. Still, one would think that some basic concepts would stay the same; water will be wet, round objects will roll, pop-tarts will be tasty. Considering all of this, I have a grave concern. What sort of physics bending cataclysmic event will occur that will lead us all to believe that left over high school football pads and soup strainers will provide the necessary protection to ensure our survival? Apparently a colander on one's head is the ultimate in safety and security. Perhaps we should be funneling federal funds into studying the immense powers that lie in placing a sieve on our heads. Perhaps this study can even prevent Armageddon.

I don't want to fight the tide

Yesterday's visit to the oncologist yielded what should be considered as overall good news. My tumors have shrunk, which means the chemo is working. On the down side, I have to continue chemo for at least another three months, at which time I will go for a pet scan to further determine the efficacy of the chemo. I also received a chemo treatment yesterday, so today I feel like I was hit by a big truck carrying chemo. More postings to come.

I don't want to swim the ocean

Just a short post today. Next Monday, the 10th, I go for my next round of chemo and I get the results of my last cat scan. Needless to say, I'm a bit anxious. It's going to be a long weekend, and yet somehow it will fly by. Go figure.

I've had a good time over the last two weeks. It's difficult for me to accept that next week I'll be sick as all hell. I can't wait for this ride to be over.

The back and forth continues. Next posting should be a rather bleak discussion on mortality. I'm starting to see a pattern.