Place me on a Shelf

Update time!!!

First, the exciting news – at least for me: I have finished the first draft of my book. That's right! I wrote a book. I am still, with the help of some very intellectual friends and family members, in the process of editing; but the actual book is done! That was definitely one thing on my “bucket list.” My bucket list, by the way, never got all that long. Because every thing happened so fast:

9-days-ago, I was trying to walk.

8-days-ago, I was trying speak.

6-days-ago, I was chasing girls and trying to fit in.

5-days-ago, I was trying to be a grown-up (actually, that's still very much ongoing).

3-days-ago, I found out that I was going to be a Father (by far the scariest and most exciting thing has that ever happened to me).

2-days-ago, they said I was sick.

Then – only yesterday, I think it was – they told me I was dying.

Until yesterday, I was still just trying to carry my bucket of responsibilities and did not have time to make a list. So, I did the next best thing I could think of; post-it-notes. And as it turns out, one of the very first of the post-it-notes (the bright green one) said, “write a Book.” Boom! Done! Yep, I did that one!

The next post-it-note (the purple one), said something about, “fixing a hole in bucket?” or “fill this whole bucket?” I am not really sure. By the time I wrote it, I was on a lot of terrible medications and also had already lost the use of my writing hand; and the note was not very legible. Live and learn... Damn, I forgot.

Well, meanwhile, back at the update (it's usually supposed to say ranch there – good stuff right there. You can use it after I buy the ranch, which is supposed to be a farm. I suck at idioms, but I'll get over it).

So, the tumor is growing, my brain is swelling and we are again, trying to find the treatment of promise.

I honestly am not sure what I want to say here, or what I should tell you? What do I want to tell you? I am not really sure what I am going to tell myself? I guess the good news is that I still have two – count'em – two different types of chemotherapy. That is, if this newest, latest and greatest one fails me. I would tell you the name of this very up-to-the-minute flavor of poison, but I don't know what it is, nor do I care to learn it!

I hate leaving anything off on such a low-note, but I have not received any positive medical news in months; my body is losing more functions every day, my mind is slipping into some hazy world of confusion and hell, and my voice and communication abilities are going. This is probably (hopefully) not the news that anyone was anticipating. Nevertheless, it is the only news I have available for you – so, take it or leave it.

I did, however, write a book. And it does have a happy ending.

So, regardless of my longevity, I can always be put me on a shelf in ash and soul – or, if you are not going to buy the book, you can just put a post-it-note where the book should go.