#anyway it's no longer my theology but this is a roundabout way of saying that i hope that's what the afterlife is

[hacash]

had ideas for two (two, freaking TWO!!) seperate book ideas off the back of watching The Terror - not particularly ice-shenanigans-related, just ideas about exploring 19th century colonialism and survivor's guilt and stolen identities - while I'm still here working on an absolute ball-buster of an OG trilogy and another separate book, none of which are any closer to completion

please, I'm begging, someone take my brain away from me

#writers' problems #the terror #i'm no longer practicing but one of the best church sermons I ever heard was a minister saying the idea of 'eternal worship' in heaven #shouldn't be taken to mean unending hymns etc because for some people that's awful #but about people being creative and loving and spending their time doing the things that bring them fulfilment #anyway it's no longer my theology but this is a roundabout way of saying that i hope that's what the afterlife is #so i can finally find time to **write all of this freaking stuff**

[braindamageforbeginners]

This is the greatest video on the Internet, because of course it is. I realize it’s very standard-white-guy-ish to make that sort of claim of a Springsteen concert clip, but it features The Boss inviting a boy to play guitar with him (the kid’s sign reads “Skipped school, in the shit, can I play Growin’ Up with you?”). You’d have to be soulless not to find that great.

I’m posting this because I recently had a revelation: You know who really benefits from this interaction? As cool as the kid undoubtedly feels, you know who feels even cooler? Bruce Springsteen. Teenagers are still listening to some stupid song he wrote 40 years ago - I guarantee you The Boss is still blown away by that fact.

All human artistic expression exists to bridge that gulf between what is within ourselves and those around us (I’m sorry if I’ve made that point before, infusions seem to make me a little loopy)(NOTE TO SELF; trawl archives for similar/repeated themes on infusion days), so when you hear someone else say, “Right on, man,” it really does make you feel much less alone. And just being a human is incredibly difficult and the odds are stacked against you before other humans start chipping away. Or, to finally arrive at the point, I really hope everything works out for you and your father, Molly, and if there is anything I can do, let me know (I know some people are probably saying, “Jeez, he sounds desperate for approval,” which is accurate, but, at the same time, any time I can help someone in a similar situation; you bet your ass I’ll pitch in; I’m writing this for everyone who will ever be in a similar situation). And thanks for reading.

CYCLE 4, DAY 1

I know I’ve said it before, but being sick really, really is a full-time job. I spent from 10-4:30 in the hospital. Admittedly, that’s for a pharmacy mix-up (not fatal, fortunately), infusion, Warlock check-in, blood work, and a tire rotation. About the blood - I have to give samples more than a MLB player; twice a month. clinical trials require lots and lots of data (they suck it out of you, I’d joke, except I’m down a pint). Anyway, while I was waiting in line for the blood draw, some EMTs rolled in a man covered in a blanket, with a large, suspicious bulge near the, uh, center-mass. Presented is the exchange with Dad. SELF: “Seek medical attention for an erection lasting more than four hours.” DAD: That’s his knee.

What can I say? If you can’t giggle and smirk with your fellow sea monsters when you get to the abyss, the pressure will crush you. However, it is possible to go overboard; I’ll admit to a certain increase in optimism as I make it a little longer and things look a little better - as it turns out, the best way to beat cancer is simply to  outlive it - but I’ve tried to avoid the used car salesman, “You can do it if you just wish for a unicorn!” type of optimism a lot of people seem to spout when they aren’t the sick ones. I finally met that guy in the chemo waiting room this morning, who was just intent on cheering everyone up - albeit in a rather roundabout way. His approach was, as best I can tell, the pick-up artist approach to theology, namely,chuckle and leer at every new person and offer a dubious theological statement, such as “We’re all going to heaven, everyone in this room!” (I’d point out that’s not mathematically likely since there are two religions that still think you’re due a smiting if you eat bacon, and that’s before we get into the issue of whose religion is the Chosen Religion). He left the waiting room cheering “Cancer is a good thing!” From a biological perspective, it’s a fascinating thing, but so are black holes. I don’t want to die getting sucked into one. Still, it’s good to know there’s a low-bar for insensitivity that I haven’t hit (so says the guy who just made a penis-injury joke about some trauma patient in a previous paragraph.

Fortunately, Dad brought the California ballot measure/gubernatorial guide along, so I had fantastic reading material that I’ll comment on in a later post (we let anyone run for office in this state)(and I don’t mean that in an elitist sense, I mean we have Zoltan Istvan on the ballot).

ANYWAY... WEIGHT: 206 lb. CONCENTRATION: Hard to tell, I spent most of the day in busy waiting rooms, so I couldn’t really gauge it. APPETITE: Good, so far, but I’m already on zofran #2 of the day. ACTIVITY LEVEL: Decent, but I spent all day sitting. SLEEP QUALITY: Excellent, but tonight marks the start of Temodar COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Excellent, I ducked and wove around various people in and out of assorted hallways. MEMORY: Good. PHYSICAL: I’m tired, and the muscles in my shoulder are not happy (although that’s par for the course at this point). I’m okay right now, but I’d probably be extremely nauseous and/or puking without blessed zofran. EMOTIONAL: Okay. I’m not upbeat after a day of being shot up with toxins, but I’m not feeling too bad. Of course, it’s easy to feel that way after a clean scan, but it’s hardly a confidence-builder to know I might implode at any minute. SIDE EFFECTS: Apart from the pain and potential nausea, nothing interesting. I’m hoping for some cool hallucinations or dreams later.