My new year

I have not posted anything for over a week, because saying “this sucks” sounds more like a tweet than a blog. My year of intense chemotherapy started yesterday and, until now, I have not been able to grasp exactly how I feel about the situation.

But, for the sake of emotional honesty and accurate documentation, here I go anyway.

In economics there is this term: Delayed Gratification – the ability to forgo immediate rewards in the pursuit of a larger, more substantial, and therefore, a more gratifying payoff or return of investment (e.g. time, education, finance, etc...). It is a term that has become synonymous with my life. The mantra helped me push forward through some fairly dismal situations, both financial and emotional, while in pursuit of bettering the lives of my family and myself; sacrifice now for the sake of a better future.

It is still not a bad mantra – if it works out the way you planned. The problem, however, is that if it does not work out, you have sacrificed all that is dear to you in the hopes of eventually making good on promises. It is the promises, as a man and a supposed provider, that plague my psyche the most.

That being said, there is a discovered silver-lining, as there always must be, in the dismal situation that I find myself in. And here it is – I have no choice!

That might sound like a weird thing to say at a moment where I have lost all control over my situation, but it is the truth. I have been stripped of all decision making abilities; all of the confusing, consequence bearing, emotionally challenging, guilt ridden second guessing copious amounts of crap that was on my plate have now been removed from me and have been replaced with a singular disgusting Fear Factor type of challenge – eat it, or you are off the show.

So it has become a fight or flight scenario. Some of you might be thinking “Hell yeah. Montage time. It's the eye of the tiger...the thrill of the fight.” You might even be able to see me doing one arm push-ups. I have to tell you though that even though I love your enthusiasm you are probably going to have to dial it down a notch to something more like What About Bob, when he was strapped onto the mast of the sailing boat screaming, “I am doing it! I am a sailor now! I sail! With the wind and the wind and the wind in stuff!” Or maybe, we should slide a little further down the pole to when Slaw from the Goonies was so excited that Chunk gave him a Baby-Ruth (which has been on my mind this entire morning and I am going to try to convince Angela, when she wakes up, that Baby-Ruth’s are actually a balanced part of a cancer diet when consumed in moderation with whatever kelp, kale, and tree-bark smoothie I will be drinking for breakfast).

I was hoping that while I was writing this post, I would happen to come across some obvious or previously overlooked insight that I could share with all of you that have written to me and are going through similar situations; vicariously and/or first hand. However, the only information I have for you, is my current condition and what I am doing in my efforts to stay positive and as productive as I can be.

My right-arm is completely obsolete from shoulder to fingers; which means that every time someone calls me, I immediately develop an itch on my nose that I cannot scratch. My right-leg is functional to hobble on, like a peg-leg, when I am wearing my brace. Therefore, and thank god, I am still mobile enough to claim some independence. I am continually attempting to adapt and learn new tricks in order to remain as functional as I can, until that point in which I cannot. For example; I have learned that spastic spinning in an effort to not to fall on my face can generate a sufficient amount of force for me to slap myself in the face with my stupid hand – I will be experimenting to see if this maneuver can somehow be used to slap the itch off of my nose while speaking to long winded bill collectors. Also, I should probably say that I have now been on a plant-based diet for about two weeks now. It has not been as hard as I had suspected it would be and it seems to be making the transition back on to chemotherapy and gut destroying steroids a little easier; but it is way too early to give any concrete feedback – I will make a note if it proves to be effective or even pertinent in anyway.

I guess that the takeaway from this update is simply this: I really, really want a Baby-Ruth and I am prepared to fight for it; because I am a fighter... Wait, that was probably it.