My next appointment at Dana Farber is July 18th. That leaves me oodles of time, right now, to document interesting tidbits from my past on this blog. And then I think, nah, people following along want to keep up with my present situation, not the past. Then I think, wait, there’s stuff I’ve seen, things I’ve done which could be interesting, maybe even useful, to someone. And then I remember, man, it is difficult to commit the past to printed words. It involves self revelation, self exposure.
The future? Well, that’s always on my mind. Last summer was when my oncologist predicted I had 2-5 years left to live. So, okay, let’s do the arithmetic … 2 minus 1, 5 minus 1 … shit, do I only have 1-4 years now? I will ask for an update on July 18th. I’ve been feeling so incredibly well recently, I feel like I could live for decades! I’m picturing myself doing just that — “positive imagery” — not scientifically established as helpful, but certainly not harmful. The medications I’m on right now are newish, so maybe their track record has improved since last summer? Maybe there are even newer, more fabulous remedies in the pipeline? Again, I will ask on the 18th.
Here are a few random, current thoughts:
(1) Last week my favorite bartender, Jesse, who has seen me both with and without hair, asked how I was feeling. I said … really fantastic! … and she replied … that makes my heart explode! Which made my heart explode!
(2) Listening to a radio show yesterday, a successful screen writer mentioned that he came from a whole family of great story tellers. OMG, I thought, that’s what it takes! It takes a whole family!
My family? story telling? — yeah, not one of our greatest, strongest points. We mostly sit around talking about politics, economics, and post-modernism. Oh, and that’s an improvement; when I was growing up, parties at our house consisted of two dozen math professors milling around the food table, discussing the intricacies of a particular theorem. Note: I have an old friend who’s father was also a professor, and he proclaimed … Oh, I LOVED department parties! They ALWAYS ended up with people dancing on tables. … Yep … His father was an English professor, not a math professor!
The point of this anecdote … perhaps story telling in this blog would be effortless if only my family had been the table dancing sort.
(3) Below is today’s hair, with approx 3 liters of ‘product’ calming it down.