Today I did something I hope I never do again in my lifetime. I went to a visitation for a child lost in a tragic accident. One of the parents is a longtime friend of mine, and we went to show our support for the family. I say that, but at the same time I don't feel like I was much support at all. I was dreading every part of it (other than being there for the family). I guess it was something I would rather not think about, that children can pass. I couldn't even bring myself to look at the casket. I can tell you exactly how many times I did look over there, three. The first time from a distance, and that was almost more than I could handle, and I was done looking at that point. I felt my breathing change and my pulse racing. The rest of the way up to my friend I watched the video monitors, looked at the flowers anywhere but that child lying there, but when I got close, I thought it was obvious I was trying to avoid looking, so I glanced twice more. The last time I came close to losing it. I hugged my friend and whispered a couple of things that may or may not be heard, but to be honest I didn't know what to say. I was speechless. Nothing I could say would make that situation any better. I was so out of it, I forgot to introduce my wife. On the drive home, for the first hour, I think I only spoke about ten words to my wife.
What does any of this have to do with childhood cancer? The events the past week, this child's death, people I know getting horrible diagnoses/prognoses, everything, has really been weighing on me. Today was the result of an accident. As long as kids are allowed to be kids, there will be accidents, most minor, but unfortunately some will end very tragically. Unless kids are never allowed to do anything and put in a bubble all day, they will find ways to get hurt. As I drove home in silence, I just thought about childhood cancer and I wondered, how many parents are going through this exact same scenario every single day because of cancer? Four, just in the U.S. (According to the National Cancer Institute). That is four kids dying everyday of cancer, just in this country! This isn't an accident or some random thing. We know that four families will have to experience what my friend experienced today, and four more will tomorrow, and four more the day after that. 160,000 kids worldwide will get cancer this year, 10,400 in this country alone. I find this appalling!
I went from leaving the funeral home today, feeling like I wasn't able to help a good friend, to getting mad thinking that there are many other people out there that are going to lose a child to cancer and we know it going to happen to the tune of four a day!!! I don't know what I am going to do about it. I don't know what I can do about it. I just know it is absolutely shocking that we know four children died today of cancer, and four more will die tomorrow, and so on, and we continue to allow it to go on.
Those of us (adults) that are/were living with cancer, we have ways of coping. We get upset. We get mad at the disease. We get depressed. We may go into our shell. We may be short with our families and loved ones. We go through the myriad of emotions as we learn our diagnosis, our prognosis, go through tests, go through treatment, get sick from chemo, go through more tests, live in fear of recurrence, etc. all because we know that this is not "normal" life. To a kid going through a cancer battle, they don't know any better. As far as they know, that is how life is supposed to be, and I think that is what saddens me most of all.
What am I going to do now? Well, since an accident is just that, an accident, I know I cannot go around the world predicting how the next child is going to get seriously hurt and be there to prevent it. However, I do know that worldwide 438 kids are going to be diagnosed with cancer tomorrow. I don't know what I am going to do about it, but I know I am going to start looking to see what there is that I can do about it. I stood in front of a good friend today, on the verge of tears, as I fell speechless and helpless, and there was nothing I could do, I can't even begin to fathom what a parent goes through. I don't want to stand in front of someone else, see their child lying there and say "I knew four children were going to die of cancer today, but I didn't bother doing anything about it." Although I don't know what I can do about it...yet, I can guarantee I am going to start looking to see how I can help support childhood cancer causes.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Cannot Express It
Lately I have been having trouble, mental trouble (which has resulted in me missing in action from here). I have not had the best of luck lately, but at the same time, I kinda have.
Losing my job in August was at first devastating. It was a job I loved to do and, when I lost it, I hated not being a part of it anymore. As I decompressed in the days following my lay-off, it dawned on me (with a little help of my wife saying I wasn't as big of a jerk anymore) that I didn't love my job like I used to because I was no longer working that job. There were two bosses I absolutely loved. One passed away and the other retired. When they were gone, so was the vision behind my job. I kept trying to follow that vision and keep the mission going, while most of the people above me didn't understand the vision and wanted my position to go in a different direction. The constant internal tug of war of wanting to do what I was hired for and having to do others things was wearing me down. Being away from that helped me see it clearly that I wasn't as happy in the job as I had been at one point.
When I was diagnosed with cancer a couple of weeks later, the lack of a job (but the benefit of a severance package that may or may not have existed) made it possible to recover without having to ask off work or worry about getting things done in my absence. And as I have said on here before, if I hadn't been laid off, I probably wouldn't have gone to the doctor when I did (because of time) and wouldn't have been diagnosed until my cancer had progressed much further. Yes, I would rather be employed in a job I love and have two healthy nuts, but life can't go well for everyone all the time and I don't mind taking my turn at having some bad luck.
And I can see other positives as well. I was struggling to get my boat I am restoring on the water. I had hit a point where I just couldn't figure this one part out. Having cancer stopped all work on the boat and winter postponed it even more. The past few months I have been poring over three different engine manuals until the warm spell this week. With months of reading manuals fresh in my head, I finally figured out what my problem was in about an hour and will have it fixed soon. So, as with many of the negative things I have gone through lately, I have managed to find a positive thing that has come out of it as well.
I have been struggling with the concept of God's Will or Divine Intervention. After all, does God really get involved in little things like whether the hydraulics on my boat work or even bigger things like my cancer? I mean, surely there are bigger issues in the world that He is watching. Either way I thank God for the good things in my life and I also thank Him that the bad things aren't worse. I can comprehend my own life, but it's others I have really been struggling with. I have met many people in my support group that I have gotten to know, appreciate, and care for. Some of them seem to get shit on by life again and again, and I don't understand why. You hear their absolutely bleak diagnoses and you wonder, why? Now I say that with this caveat, doctors aren't necessarily the best with their "You have X amount of time left..." predictions. I personally refer to these people as the "Living Dead" because they have been walking around in some cases dozens of years after the doctor told them they would succumb to the disease. But it's more than just the cancer, other people dear to me have had things happen to them that put me at a loss to understand why things like this would ever happen in a world with a loving God.
Now don't for a second think that my faith in God is wavering, just my understanding. In my own life, I can point to how every negative thing that has ever happened to me has either made my life better in the long run or made me a better person. And the cliché is true "Sometimes bad things happen to good people" (and by the way, I just purposely misspelled "cliché" so I could use spell check because I don't know how to make that stupid little accent). My problem isn't so much why do bad things happen to good people, but why don't bad things happen to bad people? Or why don't they happen to bad people more often?
One theory I have come up with, from personal experience with bad people, is that sometimes bad things to bad people but they are such assholes that they don't even see it as a bad thing. "My sister-in-law got burned up in a house fire when lightning struck her as she fell off a ladder while crashing through her skylight, and I got $1000 bucks in the will. Kick ass!" OK, I do know of someone who had an experience like that happen (although not as dramatic), but their reaction was exactly what I said (if not worse). I also think that some of these bad people tend to brag about how great their life is, while trying to convince themselves that their life is as great as they say. People that are truly happy don't tend to go around bragging about the stuff in their life. If people that seem truly happy tend to tell you about the stuff they have, it is usually because they are offering to share it with you, such as my good friend who frequently loans me his Florida vacation home for free.
This stuff has been bothering me a lot starting at my cancer support group meeting two weeks ago, and it seems people that I care deeply about have been having horrible things happen to them since. I told my wife today, I don't know how much more I want to go to the group meetings, because seeing people I care about hurt so much is affecting me negatively. If I could understand the "why" it would be so much easier. I have had some shit happen in my life, but overall, I think I have come out of life OK. I would like to have a fun well paying job. I would like to know what it feels like to go out and have a drink with friends. I would like to leave the house and not panic because I left my glucose tabs or stomach medicine in my other jacket. On the other hand, I am glad I have a family that loves and support me. I am glad that the tough spots in my life have shown me who sticks by me in the long run (and I am glad that so many have). I am glad I have two basenjis that are crazy. I guess it boils down to this, maybe I would be better off married to Christy Turlington, or Mila Kunis, or Keira Knightley, or all three and a few others to be named later. Maybe I would be better off if my last name was Disney. Maybe I would be better off with a normal body that wasn't battered from arthritis, worn down from cancer treatment, twisted from GI problems, and with a weird eyeball on my eyeball. But the question I ask myself, would I give up everything in my life and roll the dice again? Maybe not get the same life, nor same friends, nor same family, etc. I don't think I would take my chances like that.
I don't know if God has a "plan" for us. I don't know how much of a role He plays in controlling our day to day life. What I thought I had figured out I don't know anymore. I don't know what I know or believe or how to express what I do think. I don't know why bad things happen to good people, nor why good things sometimes happen to bad people. All I know, is I think I am blessed, regardless of the things I wish were different in my life. And I will continue to pray for the ones that I care about that their lives get better soon.
Losing my job in August was at first devastating. It was a job I loved to do and, when I lost it, I hated not being a part of it anymore. As I decompressed in the days following my lay-off, it dawned on me (with a little help of my wife saying I wasn't as big of a jerk anymore) that I didn't love my job like I used to because I was no longer working that job. There were two bosses I absolutely loved. One passed away and the other retired. When they were gone, so was the vision behind my job. I kept trying to follow that vision and keep the mission going, while most of the people above me didn't understand the vision and wanted my position to go in a different direction. The constant internal tug of war of wanting to do what I was hired for and having to do others things was wearing me down. Being away from that helped me see it clearly that I wasn't as happy in the job as I had been at one point.
When I was diagnosed with cancer a couple of weeks later, the lack of a job (but the benefit of a severance package that may or may not have existed) made it possible to recover without having to ask off work or worry about getting things done in my absence. And as I have said on here before, if I hadn't been laid off, I probably wouldn't have gone to the doctor when I did (because of time) and wouldn't have been diagnosed until my cancer had progressed much further. Yes, I would rather be employed in a job I love and have two healthy nuts, but life can't go well for everyone all the time and I don't mind taking my turn at having some bad luck.
And I can see other positives as well. I was struggling to get my boat I am restoring on the water. I had hit a point where I just couldn't figure this one part out. Having cancer stopped all work on the boat and winter postponed it even more. The past few months I have been poring over three different engine manuals until the warm spell this week. With months of reading manuals fresh in my head, I finally figured out what my problem was in about an hour and will have it fixed soon. So, as with many of the negative things I have gone through lately, I have managed to find a positive thing that has come out of it as well.
I have been struggling with the concept of God's Will or Divine Intervention. After all, does God really get involved in little things like whether the hydraulics on my boat work or even bigger things like my cancer? I mean, surely there are bigger issues in the world that He is watching. Either way I thank God for the good things in my life and I also thank Him that the bad things aren't worse. I can comprehend my own life, but it's others I have really been struggling with. I have met many people in my support group that I have gotten to know, appreciate, and care for. Some of them seem to get shit on by life again and again, and I don't understand why. You hear their absolutely bleak diagnoses and you wonder, why? Now I say that with this caveat, doctors aren't necessarily the best with their "You have X amount of time left..." predictions. I personally refer to these people as the "Living Dead" because they have been walking around in some cases dozens of years after the doctor told them they would succumb to the disease. But it's more than just the cancer, other people dear to me have had things happen to them that put me at a loss to understand why things like this would ever happen in a world with a loving God.
Now don't for a second think that my faith in God is wavering, just my understanding. In my own life, I can point to how every negative thing that has ever happened to me has either made my life better in the long run or made me a better person. And the cliché is true "Sometimes bad things happen to good people" (and by the way, I just purposely misspelled "cliché" so I could use spell check because I don't know how to make that stupid little accent). My problem isn't so much why do bad things happen to good people, but why don't bad things happen to bad people? Or why don't they happen to bad people more often?
One theory I have come up with, from personal experience with bad people, is that sometimes bad things to bad people but they are such assholes that they don't even see it as a bad thing. "My sister-in-law got burned up in a house fire when lightning struck her as she fell off a ladder while crashing through her skylight, and I got $1000 bucks in the will. Kick ass!" OK, I do know of someone who had an experience like that happen (although not as dramatic), but their reaction was exactly what I said (if not worse). I also think that some of these bad people tend to brag about how great their life is, while trying to convince themselves that their life is as great as they say. People that are truly happy don't tend to go around bragging about the stuff in their life. If people that seem truly happy tend to tell you about the stuff they have, it is usually because they are offering to share it with you, such as my good friend who frequently loans me his Florida vacation home for free.
This stuff has been bothering me a lot starting at my cancer support group meeting two weeks ago, and it seems people that I care deeply about have been having horrible things happen to them since. I told my wife today, I don't know how much more I want to go to the group meetings, because seeing people I care about hurt so much is affecting me negatively. If I could understand the "why" it would be so much easier. I have had some shit happen in my life, but overall, I think I have come out of life OK. I would like to have a fun well paying job. I would like to know what it feels like to go out and have a drink with friends. I would like to leave the house and not panic because I left my glucose tabs or stomach medicine in my other jacket. On the other hand, I am glad I have a family that loves and support me. I am glad that the tough spots in my life have shown me who sticks by me in the long run (and I am glad that so many have). I am glad I have two basenjis that are crazy. I guess it boils down to this, maybe I would be better off married to Christy Turlington, or Mila Kunis, or Keira Knightley, or all three and a few others to be named later. Maybe I would be better off if my last name was Disney. Maybe I would be better off with a normal body that wasn't battered from arthritis, worn down from cancer treatment, twisted from GI problems, and with a weird eyeball on my eyeball. But the question I ask myself, would I give up everything in my life and roll the dice again? Maybe not get the same life, nor same friends, nor same family, etc. I don't think I would take my chances like that.
I don't know if God has a "plan" for us. I don't know how much of a role He plays in controlling our day to day life. What I thought I had figured out I don't know anymore. I don't know what I know or believe or how to express what I do think. I don't know why bad things happen to good people, nor why good things sometimes happen to bad people. All I know, is I think I am blessed, regardless of the things I wish were different in my life. And I will continue to pray for the ones that I care about that their lives get better soon.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Sometimes Doctors Just Make Up Words...
If you read my blog from yesterday, last night I noticed a little bump on my eye. Not on the lid, I have a little tiny eye ball on my eyeball. Most people would never notice it was there, but I know it's there and that's what bothers me. Although, when the light hits it just right, it's like a have a little glimmer in my eye. I guess that can be kinda cool, even if the reason for the glimmer is depressing me. Today I called the local ophthalmologist, who just happens to be closed on Fridays, which meant I had to go down the road to Wal-Mart's vision center.
The doctor at Wal-Mart was very nice (WOW, there is a group of words I never thought I would see together) and very quickly identified the problem. I simply had a pingueculum, which I am sure you already guessed by now, but it was the first time I had ever heard of that word. Apparently it is a Latin word that means "screw you I am here to stay and there isn't a darn thing you can do about it". At least that is what I think it means from the explanation the doctor gave me. Apparently in sunny climates nearer to the equator, people get these all the time from all of the sun. Lately, here in Ohio if we want to see the sun, we have to look it up on the internet. So, the probable cause of my penguinlump (or whatever it's called) is dust, which is very common up in our area. He said it was no big deal, that many people get them. In fact, he informed me there is a smaller one forming in my other eye too that I hadn't noticed yet. Wow, I am twice as lucky as I originally thought.
Easy enough, so what is the cure you ask? There basically is none. They are there for life. He tells me that I can have it surgically removed, but they usually come right back. Well, that's good to know. (Although, my wife did do some research and apparently a new type of surgery only has a 4% chance of them reoccurring). He said that I should probably start using fake tears to keep that area from drying out, because when that area dries out it gets irritated, and when it gets irritated it gets bigger. Even better news! The other thing is to wear sunglasses.
I hate wearing all glasses. Now anyone that knows me at all, knows that I think girls in glasses are hot (that's why I keep putting sand in my wife's contact case), so it's kind of ironic that I hate wearing glasses myself. I have owned two pair of sunglasses my adult life. The first pair was for riding a bike. You only need a few bugs in your eyes and to be riding a bike blind for a few minutes on a busy street to realize you need glasses to protect you. And a couple of years ago, my wife gave me the ultimatum that if I didn't get some sunglasses she wouldn't let me on a boat. Outside of that I have never had nor worn sunglasses. Now just for clarification I do wear safety glasses, especially when dealing with metal shavings. You only need to hear one story on how they have to grind the metal out of your eyeball, before you decide you don't want to deal with that.
While at Wal-Mart, I bought my eye drops, so half of my assignment was done. Now I had to do the dreaded search for sunglasses. The good news is, winter in Ohio isn't a really busy time for sunglass counters, meaning I didn't have to wait in any long lines. The bad new is, winter in Ohio isn't a really busy time for sunglass counters, so their stock is limited. We finally found a store with a good selection and I think I was made to try on every pair...twice...some four times. The selection process went sort of like this. I find a pair I like. My wife wrinkles her nose and gives me at least three reasons why she hates it and why my choice sucks. She grabs a pair of tortoise shell framed glasses for me to try on. I say I don't want tortoise shell frames they look to feminine. I grab another pair and we repeat the whole process again. This goes on for at least four hours (according to my internal man-clock) with the salesperson usually siding with my wife (a female conspiracy). Until we had it narrowed down to two pair. A pair that costs $50 and a pair of Ray-Bans that cost $150. Since I never plan on buying another pair of sunglasses for the rest of my life, I justified the $150 Ray-Bans. The main reason is they have those springy little arms that not only feel better against my noggin, but also won't break when someone who hasn't worn glasses for most of his thirty-nine years (plus one) rips his glasses off the wrong way.
The part of the evening that baffled me, is we passed through a shoe sale and a purse sale and my wife started drooling. I told her I didn't really have any room to do any complaining after my purchase, and for the one and only time in my life, I would watch her by a purse or pair of shoes, without pointing out the thirty-seven other pairs she has just like it. My wife looked at me, definitely stunned, and what surprised me, is she didn't buy anything!!! I think it was like going fishing versus buying fish sticks at the grocery store. I guess buying shoes and purses is no fun if there is no sport involved in aggravating me by it. I am tempted to use this reverse psychology in the future, but I think I would be pressing my luck (plus she reads these sometimes).
I now have every thing I need to treat my pingpongdudrum. I have the eye drops and an expensive pair of sunglasses. The article also mentioned that staring at LCD monitors can aggravate pingearcolumns, which not only cuts down on my planned study of internet pornography in the future (unless I have my sunglasses on), but is my excuse for any typos from now on. I am not proofreading for my health!
The doctor at Wal-Mart was very nice (WOW, there is a group of words I never thought I would see together) and very quickly identified the problem. I simply had a pingueculum, which I am sure you already guessed by now, but it was the first time I had ever heard of that word. Apparently it is a Latin word that means "screw you I am here to stay and there isn't a darn thing you can do about it". At least that is what I think it means from the explanation the doctor gave me. Apparently in sunny climates nearer to the equator, people get these all the time from all of the sun. Lately, here in Ohio if we want to see the sun, we have to look it up on the internet. So, the probable cause of my penguinlump (or whatever it's called) is dust, which is very common up in our area. He said it was no big deal, that many people get them. In fact, he informed me there is a smaller one forming in my other eye too that I hadn't noticed yet. Wow, I am twice as lucky as I originally thought.
Easy enough, so what is the cure you ask? There basically is none. They are there for life. He tells me that I can have it surgically removed, but they usually come right back. Well, that's good to know. (Although, my wife did do some research and apparently a new type of surgery only has a 4% chance of them reoccurring). He said that I should probably start using fake tears to keep that area from drying out, because when that area dries out it gets irritated, and when it gets irritated it gets bigger. Even better news! The other thing is to wear sunglasses.
I hate wearing all glasses. Now anyone that knows me at all, knows that I think girls in glasses are hot (that's why I keep putting sand in my wife's contact case), so it's kind of ironic that I hate wearing glasses myself. I have owned two pair of sunglasses my adult life. The first pair was for riding a bike. You only need a few bugs in your eyes and to be riding a bike blind for a few minutes on a busy street to realize you need glasses to protect you. And a couple of years ago, my wife gave me the ultimatum that if I didn't get some sunglasses she wouldn't let me on a boat. Outside of that I have never had nor worn sunglasses. Now just for clarification I do wear safety glasses, especially when dealing with metal shavings. You only need to hear one story on how they have to grind the metal out of your eyeball, before you decide you don't want to deal with that.
While at Wal-Mart, I bought my eye drops, so half of my assignment was done. Now I had to do the dreaded search for sunglasses. The good news is, winter in Ohio isn't a really busy time for sunglass counters, meaning I didn't have to wait in any long lines. The bad new is, winter in Ohio isn't a really busy time for sunglass counters, so their stock is limited. We finally found a store with a good selection and I think I was made to try on every pair...twice...some four times. The selection process went sort of like this. I find a pair I like. My wife wrinkles her nose and gives me at least three reasons why she hates it and why my choice sucks. She grabs a pair of tortoise shell framed glasses for me to try on. I say I don't want tortoise shell frames they look to feminine. I grab another pair and we repeat the whole process again. This goes on for at least four hours (according to my internal man-clock) with the salesperson usually siding with my wife (a female conspiracy). Until we had it narrowed down to two pair. A pair that costs $50 and a pair of Ray-Bans that cost $150. Since I never plan on buying another pair of sunglasses for the rest of my life, I justified the $150 Ray-Bans. The main reason is they have those springy little arms that not only feel better against my noggin, but also won't break when someone who hasn't worn glasses for most of his thirty-nine years (plus one) rips his glasses off the wrong way.
The part of the evening that baffled me, is we passed through a shoe sale and a purse sale and my wife started drooling. I told her I didn't really have any room to do any complaining after my purchase, and for the one and only time in my life, I would watch her by a purse or pair of shoes, without pointing out the thirty-seven other pairs she has just like it. My wife looked at me, definitely stunned, and what surprised me, is she didn't buy anything!!! I think it was like going fishing versus buying fish sticks at the grocery store. I guess buying shoes and purses is no fun if there is no sport involved in aggravating me by it. I am tempted to use this reverse psychology in the future, but I think I would be pressing my luck (plus she reads these sometimes).
I now have every thing I need to treat my pingpongdudrum. I have the eye drops and an expensive pair of sunglasses. The article also mentioned that staring at LCD monitors can aggravate pingearcolumns, which not only cuts down on my planned study of internet pornography in the future (unless I have my sunglasses on), but is my excuse for any typos from now on. I am not proofreading for my health!
Friday, February 11, 2011
After Cancer You Can't "Don't Worry About It"
Today I arrived early for my cancer support group. Shortly after two others came in and we were talking a bit before the rest of the group arrived. One person had missed that previous week and was asking about my results. I told her I received the results of all my tests and that the lumps in my kidneys were just cysts.
This brought on a conversation amongst the three of us, all sharing the common bond of cancer. When the lumps (or doctor's speak "masses") first showed up on my CT scan, I was told "It's probably nothing to worry about" and "Don't worry about it". All three of us in the room had heard that message at one point or another in our treatment, and all three of us found it impossible "not to worry about it". After you are told you have the Big C, any unknown is something to worry about.
Here are suggestions of things I can "not worry about". A mechanic saying the tires will need replacing by next winter but in the mean time don't worry about it. Not getting home in time to see a favorite TV show, it is now available on-demand so don't worry about it. You forgot to send a obscene e-mail forward to your friend, you can always send it later, don't worry about it. The restaurant you choose doesn't serve Pepsi, don't worry about it....well, that one actually is a pretty big deal.
My point is, doctors that haven't been through a cancer scare in their own life, don't know how hard it is not to worry about something when there is even the tiniest hint of a chance that it may be related to cancer. A friend that has helped me a lot through my journey is living eight years cancer free. For the past eight years they have flown through every exam without a problem...until this last one. They had a questionable result and were told not to worry about it. They told me that they did worry about it a lot. Luckily it turned out to be nothing to worry about, for real. But my friend's point to me was, the "not worry about it" syndrome never goes away, no matter how many good results you get in the mean time. It's a perfectly normal reaction.
Later in group, completely unrelated to our pre-group conversation, the topic came up where two people mentioned how their "don't worry about it" diagnosis went on for years and later turned out to be cancer. Now I am not saying that one shouldn't listen to their doctor's advice when told not to worry about it, but those of us who have lived through cancer and those of us who know someone who should have worried about it, we can't not worry about it. Luckily, more often that not it really is nothing to worry about.
The ironic thing is as I was preparing to write tonight, I noticed a raised bump on my eye. As most of us do in this modern age, I did a little internet research on what it could be. Most of the things on the internet say "don't worry about it" but see a doctor immediately. I bet you can guess what I am going to do as soon as the doctor's office opens.
This brought on a conversation amongst the three of us, all sharing the common bond of cancer. When the lumps (or doctor's speak "masses") first showed up on my CT scan, I was told "It's probably nothing to worry about" and "Don't worry about it". All three of us in the room had heard that message at one point or another in our treatment, and all three of us found it impossible "not to worry about it". After you are told you have the Big C, any unknown is something to worry about.
Here are suggestions of things I can "not worry about". A mechanic saying the tires will need replacing by next winter but in the mean time don't worry about it. Not getting home in time to see a favorite TV show, it is now available on-demand so don't worry about it. You forgot to send a obscene e-mail forward to your friend, you can always send it later, don't worry about it. The restaurant you choose doesn't serve Pepsi, don't worry about it....well, that one actually is a pretty big deal.
My point is, doctors that haven't been through a cancer scare in their own life, don't know how hard it is not to worry about something when there is even the tiniest hint of a chance that it may be related to cancer. A friend that has helped me a lot through my journey is living eight years cancer free. For the past eight years they have flown through every exam without a problem...until this last one. They had a questionable result and were told not to worry about it. They told me that they did worry about it a lot. Luckily it turned out to be nothing to worry about, for real. But my friend's point to me was, the "not worry about it" syndrome never goes away, no matter how many good results you get in the mean time. It's a perfectly normal reaction.
Later in group, completely unrelated to our pre-group conversation, the topic came up where two people mentioned how their "don't worry about it" diagnosis went on for years and later turned out to be cancer. Now I am not saying that one shouldn't listen to their doctor's advice when told not to worry about it, but those of us who have lived through cancer and those of us who know someone who should have worried about it, we can't not worry about it. Luckily, more often that not it really is nothing to worry about.
The ironic thing is as I was preparing to write tonight, I noticed a raised bump on my eye. As most of us do in this modern age, I did a little internet research on what it could be. Most of the things on the internet say "don't worry about it" but see a doctor immediately. I bet you can guess what I am going to do as soon as the doctor's office opens.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
How To Gut Your Past And Hurt Your Gut
The outside temperature was bitter cold and I didn't feel too bad, so I finally decided to head up to my shop and clean out snake alley. Overall things went OK, I might even say better than expected.
I felt like I was preparing to board the space shuttle, it took about fifteen minutes to get ready. I wore thermal socks, a pair of pants, a pair of ski pants over them, a shirt, a sweatshirt, insulated steel toe boots, then it's time to put on the abdominal brace, then a jacket, then another jacket, then a balaclava, then put on my hood, then my gloves, then the handwarmers inside the gloves, and then I am ready...to pee. So I peel everything off, pee and start all over again.
Working in the shop wasn't too bad. I actually had to unzip my jacket and switched from my balaclava to a hat. With the amount of snakeskins I found originally I had expected to find them throughout the area I was working in, but they were just at the front. It appears that it is just one rat bastard snake messing with me. Every year I try to make the area less and less hospitable for the serpents, but yet they still manage to sneak in. I think I finally found the place they are getting in at. So, between giving them less places to hang out, I hope that blocking the spot they come in at will really aggravate them enough that they decide to go somewhere else, maybe your house. I don't care as long as it isn't where I am.
The area I was cleaning up was what I refer to as the "Engine Room". Yes, I have some many spare motors that I have a room in my shop dedicated to them. Besides having a bunch of engines in this room, I also have all the trappings of my bachelor life. After being up there for ten years, I have come to the revelation that I am not going to use that stuff anytime soon, plus some of it is ruined, and when I get divorced, my nineteen year-old girlfriend(s) will probably want different stuff anyway. I had about ten of those plastic tote box thingys to go through. I had three piles: keep, donate, throw away. When I was done I had three boxes of keep, three of recycle, one donate, and about eight garbage bags of throw away. Yes, I will probably be sued by the garbage man tomorrow.
There were some pleasant surprises though. For some reason, anything I place in this part of my shop seems to mildew almost immediately. It's like a little Bermuda Triangle for mold. It doesn't really hurt the engines, because I coat them with Vaseline before they are stored (it's an old racers' trick). The only problem was when initially buying the family size economy five gallon bucket of Vaseline, explaining to my wife what my intentions for that much Vaseline were. When I opened up case after case, most of the stuff I cared about was mildew free! There were things I thought were going to be ruined that were just fine. There were other things that I thought I had lost, because I didn't remember putting them in these cases, that I found. And still other things that I had just plain forgot about. What I also found were more things to sell on ebay, things that I have already been selling well.
I finished just as it was getting dark outside. With help from the abdominal brace, I managed to make it through the whole ordeal with out any reinjury of my surgery, it was just every other part of my body that hurts. I don't know why it feels like I have been on a bike for five hours, when I didn't have a chance to sit down at all, but every single part of my body hurts. I came down to the house, very slowly and groaning, and jumped in the shower. As the hot water from the shower defrosted my blubber, I started to loosen up a little. The pains subsided just a bit, and I toweled off...that's is when I somehow managed to pull my incision. I don't know how I could do all the twisting, tugging, pulling, moaning, whining, and snake detesting without any problem, but the simple act of toweling off manage to hurt it. I guess I will just drip dry from now on.
So, I feel good that I finished a project that I have been wanting to do for a long time. I am glad I was able to rescue a few mementos of my bachelor life and clean out my engine room. I am hurting all over, but I think my incision isn't hurting as bad as it has in the past. Hopefully tomorrow the tightness and soreness of the rest of my body will mask the pain in my incision.
I felt like I was preparing to board the space shuttle, it took about fifteen minutes to get ready. I wore thermal socks, a pair of pants, a pair of ski pants over them, a shirt, a sweatshirt, insulated steel toe boots, then it's time to put on the abdominal brace, then a jacket, then another jacket, then a balaclava, then put on my hood, then my gloves, then the handwarmers inside the gloves, and then I am ready...to pee. So I peel everything off, pee and start all over again.
Working in the shop wasn't too bad. I actually had to unzip my jacket and switched from my balaclava to a hat. With the amount of snakeskins I found originally I had expected to find them throughout the area I was working in, but they were just at the front. It appears that it is just one rat bastard snake messing with me. Every year I try to make the area less and less hospitable for the serpents, but yet they still manage to sneak in. I think I finally found the place they are getting in at. So, between giving them less places to hang out, I hope that blocking the spot they come in at will really aggravate them enough that they decide to go somewhere else, maybe your house. I don't care as long as it isn't where I am.
The area I was cleaning up was what I refer to as the "Engine Room". Yes, I have some many spare motors that I have a room in my shop dedicated to them. Besides having a bunch of engines in this room, I also have all the trappings of my bachelor life. After being up there for ten years, I have come to the revelation that I am not going to use that stuff anytime soon, plus some of it is ruined, and when I get divorced, my nineteen year-old girlfriend(s) will probably want different stuff anyway. I had about ten of those plastic tote box thingys to go through. I had three piles: keep, donate, throw away. When I was done I had three boxes of keep, three of recycle, one donate, and about eight garbage bags of throw away. Yes, I will probably be sued by the garbage man tomorrow.
There were some pleasant surprises though. For some reason, anything I place in this part of my shop seems to mildew almost immediately. It's like a little Bermuda Triangle for mold. It doesn't really hurt the engines, because I coat them with Vaseline before they are stored (it's an old racers' trick). The only problem was when initially buying the family size economy five gallon bucket of Vaseline, explaining to my wife what my intentions for that much Vaseline were. When I opened up case after case, most of the stuff I cared about was mildew free! There were things I thought were going to be ruined that were just fine. There were other things that I thought I had lost, because I didn't remember putting them in these cases, that I found. And still other things that I had just plain forgot about. What I also found were more things to sell on ebay, things that I have already been selling well.
I finished just as it was getting dark outside. With help from the abdominal brace, I managed to make it through the whole ordeal with out any reinjury of my surgery, it was just every other part of my body that hurts. I don't know why it feels like I have been on a bike for five hours, when I didn't have a chance to sit down at all, but every single part of my body hurts. I came down to the house, very slowly and groaning, and jumped in the shower. As the hot water from the shower defrosted my blubber, I started to loosen up a little. The pains subsided just a bit, and I toweled off...that's is when I somehow managed to pull my incision. I don't know how I could do all the twisting, tugging, pulling, moaning, whining, and snake detesting without any problem, but the simple act of toweling off manage to hurt it. I guess I will just drip dry from now on.
So, I feel good that I finished a project that I have been wanting to do for a long time. I am glad I was able to rescue a few mementos of my bachelor life and clean out my engine room. I am hurting all over, but I think my incision isn't hurting as bad as it has in the past. Hopefully tomorrow the tightness and soreness of the rest of my body will mask the pain in my incision.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Things To Do During The Superbowl...
Normally during the Superbowl, my wife and I try to do stuff that is usually crowded. Wait, am I allowed to say Superbowl (Trademark, Copyright, Patent Pending, etc.) or do I have to say "Big Game"? First of all, I am not real sure why most people watch anyway. At the beginning of the season if you said that this team made up players that a lot of people can't stand is playing this team that is made up of players most people have never heard of, no one would have given two cold craps, but because it decides who is best this year everyone has to watch it (the italics in this case indicate sarcasm). Many people say that they just watch for the commercials, which might have been relevant five to ten years ago, but in recent history you can watch the commercials on-line without having to sit through the stupid game. Plus, you can skip over the ones you have seen before or that you are just not interested in. And the beauty of watching them on-line, is now you can watch Superbowl commercials BEFORE THE SUPERBOWL! I watched Darth VW earlier this week, and didn't have to sit through crappy musical performances to see it. Although I will admit I am just taking Yahoo!'s word for the musical performances, but when someone on the comments section writes "I was high and it still sucked" it must have sucked pretty bad. And having never been high, I am also taking people's word that being high makes you listen to crappy music, but having spent nearly 10 years in various aspects of the music business I can say there definitely seems to be a direct correlation between being high and crappy music...or "jam band" as they like to call it. The correlation also goes for bad dancing styles, wardrobe, grammar, logic, and hygiene.
Anyway, this year we decided to just go shopping during the big game. The stores were empty (especially the tool store!) and we were able to get in and out with minimal aggravation. Well, except for the aggravation of waiting for my wife to finish shopping. We were a little worried at the grocery store, because the parking lot was packed. Once inside it looked empty. I am assuming everyone ran in for the things they forgot for their Superbowl party and ran back out again. I base this assumption on seeing people run in, grab something and run back out again. The strangest one was the guy that ran, full sprint, grabbed a large package of toilet paper and a twelve pack of generic orange soda. That has to be the worst Superbowl party ever! Especially if you are the one waiting for the toilet paper delivery. (I can just imagine the guy on the pot saying "Dammit Jerry, why did you have to waste time getting the generic orange soda, didn't you know I was sitting here with mudbutt?!?!")
What always bothers me about the Superbowl, is that most TV networks assume everyone is watching the Superbowl, so they don't show anything new of their own, and usually they rerun crap. Maybe if networks would run something else to watch, people wouldn't sit at home with their flipper saying "looks like nothing is on, I guess I'll flip over to the Big Game to watch a commercial". This was NOT the case for me. I have been in heaven for most of the day...well the part of the day I wasn't waiting for my wife to finish shopping. Top Gear (UK, the real one. The one that is actually funny and entertaining.) has been running a marathon all weekend and will continue until 5am Tuesday morning. So, you know where I will be until 5am Tuesday morning. My dilemma is there has also been a marathon of Gearz. I have been flipping back and forth between the show about guys who don't know how to work on cars (which is part of what makes the show funny) that drive cars I will never afford or the guy that makes cars we can all afford into cars that are as fast and as cool as the cars most of us can never afford. One of the best dilemmas I have ever had to deal with. Much better than that I-am-sick-and-have-to-poop-and-puke-at-the-same-time-and-don't-know-which-mess-I-want-to-clean-up dilemma.
I had better get off of here, I am actually missing two shows I really enjoy. Then later I will get on-line and watch the commercials for the Superbowl that I didn't see before the game and read how much everyone hated the music. I don't think I missed much at all.
Anyway, this year we decided to just go shopping during the big game. The stores were empty (especially the tool store!) and we were able to get in and out with minimal aggravation. Well, except for the aggravation of waiting for my wife to finish shopping. We were a little worried at the grocery store, because the parking lot was packed. Once inside it looked empty. I am assuming everyone ran in for the things they forgot for their Superbowl party and ran back out again. I base this assumption on seeing people run in, grab something and run back out again. The strangest one was the guy that ran, full sprint, grabbed a large package of toilet paper and a twelve pack of generic orange soda. That has to be the worst Superbowl party ever! Especially if you are the one waiting for the toilet paper delivery. (I can just imagine the guy on the pot saying "Dammit Jerry, why did you have to waste time getting the generic orange soda, didn't you know I was sitting here with mudbutt?!?!")
What always bothers me about the Superbowl, is that most TV networks assume everyone is watching the Superbowl, so they don't show anything new of their own, and usually they rerun crap. Maybe if networks would run something else to watch, people wouldn't sit at home with their flipper saying "looks like nothing is on, I guess I'll flip over to the Big Game to watch a commercial". This was NOT the case for me. I have been in heaven for most of the day...well the part of the day I wasn't waiting for my wife to finish shopping. Top Gear (UK, the real one. The one that is actually funny and entertaining.) has been running a marathon all weekend and will continue until 5am Tuesday morning. So, you know where I will be until 5am Tuesday morning. My dilemma is there has also been a marathon of Gearz. I have been flipping back and forth between the show about guys who don't know how to work on cars (which is part of what makes the show funny) that drive cars I will never afford or the guy that makes cars we can all afford into cars that are as fast and as cool as the cars most of us can never afford. One of the best dilemmas I have ever had to deal with. Much better than that I-am-sick-and-have-to-poop-and-puke-at-the-same-time-and-don't-know-which-mess-I-want-to-clean-up dilemma.
I had better get off of here, I am actually missing two shows I really enjoy. Then later I will get on-line and watch the commercials for the Superbowl that I didn't see before the game and read how much everyone hated the music. I don't think I missed much at all.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Soldering On
Between the snow, some pain, and just plain not feeling too active today, I decided to do some soldering today that I have been putting off for a while. I just had to make sure curious basenjis were out of harm's way and didn't try to investigate the scorching soldering iron they same way they investigate everything, by putting their nose on it. So, when my wife took a nap and they jumped in the warm bed with her, I went to work.
First I had to rewire my headphones. I have had to do this many times in the twenty years I have had them since they followed me out of my parents' house. So much so that I bought a very long cord and as the cord wears out (which is almost always right where they cord goes into the headphones) I just snip that section out and wire it back up, just six inches shorter. I do this until the headphone cord is down to about a foot or so, then get a new cord and start all over again. I started this back in my club DJ days where I would have to constantly take the headphones off to hear drunk girls requesting the song I just played and trying to bribe me by going out with me or flashing me (not necessarily in that order). One time a bouncer was taking a break in the DJ booth. A girl asked him to play a particular song, and he responded by asking her to flash him. She did and asked if he would play her song, then he responded that he was just a bouncer but he appreciated the show. The part of that whole situation that bothers me was I was busy queuing up the next song and didn't witness the show myself! But anyway, enough reliving the glory days of coming home at 4:30am dead tired and smelling like an ashtray from the DJ booth being in the club's haze all night. I did get my headphones rewired just fine tonight and they work great again. I swear each time I do it, the parts I am soldering get smaller and smaller. I remember it being a lot easier the last time I did it.
I then had two switches I had to replace on other things. On one I had it all soldered up and ready to go, and when I went to reinstall the part, I found out the hole wasn't big enough for the new part. So, I had to unsolder the new part and put the old one back on. Not a hard job, but I really wasn't planning this exercise in futility tonight. So I moved on to the other project, and when I opened up the back I realized it was the wrong switch. I had bought this switch about four years ago. I vaguely remember opening this up before with the same results. So I put the part in my little parts box, and I am sure another year or so from now, I will open it up again and realize once again I have the wrong part. It's like I am playing a little practical joke on my future self that I don't think is funny now, and probably won't think it's funny in the future either.
With one out of three projects successfully completed, I went to take a shower. And you know how when you are around smoke, sometimes it gets in your hair and when you take a shower the water brings the smell back out? Sometimes that can be a pleasant smell such as from the great steak you grilled earlier that day. Or it can remind you of something good that day, like how you may smell like a cigarette butt, but at least you got to see boobs at work. But tonight it just reminded me how much solder stinks and how I need to replace my tip. Of course, much like the switch I keep trying to install every year or so, I won't remember that the tip needs replacing until I pull out the soldering iron to use it again.
Hopefully I will feel brave enough later this week to head out to my shop and work on my big boy toys again. My brace seems to be helping my incision heal better and I seem to be getting stronger. And then I can come back to the house, take a shower, and smell smoke from welding and grinding.
First I had to rewire my headphones. I have had to do this many times in the twenty years I have had them since they followed me out of my parents' house. So much so that I bought a very long cord and as the cord wears out (which is almost always right where they cord goes into the headphones) I just snip that section out and wire it back up, just six inches shorter. I do this until the headphone cord is down to about a foot or so, then get a new cord and start all over again. I started this back in my club DJ days where I would have to constantly take the headphones off to hear drunk girls requesting the song I just played and trying to bribe me by going out with me or flashing me (not necessarily in that order). One time a bouncer was taking a break in the DJ booth. A girl asked him to play a particular song, and he responded by asking her to flash him. She did and asked if he would play her song, then he responded that he was just a bouncer but he appreciated the show. The part of that whole situation that bothers me was I was busy queuing up the next song and didn't witness the show myself! But anyway, enough reliving the glory days of coming home at 4:30am dead tired and smelling like an ashtray from the DJ booth being in the club's haze all night. I did get my headphones rewired just fine tonight and they work great again. I swear each time I do it, the parts I am soldering get smaller and smaller. I remember it being a lot easier the last time I did it.
I then had two switches I had to replace on other things. On one I had it all soldered up and ready to go, and when I went to reinstall the part, I found out the hole wasn't big enough for the new part. So, I had to unsolder the new part and put the old one back on. Not a hard job, but I really wasn't planning this exercise in futility tonight. So I moved on to the other project, and when I opened up the back I realized it was the wrong switch. I had bought this switch about four years ago. I vaguely remember opening this up before with the same results. So I put the part in my little parts box, and I am sure another year or so from now, I will open it up again and realize once again I have the wrong part. It's like I am playing a little practical joke on my future self that I don't think is funny now, and probably won't think it's funny in the future either.
With one out of three projects successfully completed, I went to take a shower. And you know how when you are around smoke, sometimes it gets in your hair and when you take a shower the water brings the smell back out? Sometimes that can be a pleasant smell such as from the great steak you grilled earlier that day. Or it can remind you of something good that day, like how you may smell like a cigarette butt, but at least you got to see boobs at work. But tonight it just reminded me how much solder stinks and how I need to replace my tip. Of course, much like the switch I keep trying to install every year or so, I won't remember that the tip needs replacing until I pull out the soldering iron to use it again.
Hopefully I will feel brave enough later this week to head out to my shop and work on my big boy toys again. My brace seems to be helping my incision heal better and I seem to be getting stronger. And then I can come back to the house, take a shower, and smell smoke from welding and grinding.
Oncologists Do Care About Swimmers Sometimes
As I have mentioned earlier, the thing that has been bothering me lately is my questionable swimmers. At one point I was told they were normal at another point I was told they were abnormal. Giving someone hope then recalling that hope is worse than not giving the hope in the first place. At least that is how I feel about it.
Last week I had a heart to heart with my oncologist and told him how much it was bothering me and that I didn't feel like waiting around until May to check the swimmers again as my urologist/surgeon had suggested. My oncologist was in a hurry and didn't really seem to be very interested in the conversation, but he said he agreed with me, made some suggestions and sent me on my way. I assumed that was the end of it.
Then this week my oncologist called while I was gone. The first reason I like my oncologist is that he didn't wait until I was home and leave some cryptic message, he talked to my wife and gave her information he knew I wanted to know. I am sure he broke fifteen or twenty "rules" about divulging medical information, but as the patient, I appreciate it. My wife has been to just about every oncologist appointment with me, and oncologists' calls are usually pretty important. One doesn't generally want to wait until the "next business day" to start playing phone tag.
The information he gave was my lab results saying that my "tumor markers" came back good. I have no idea what the heck "tumor markers" are, but if he is happy about them I am too. Whoopee tumor markers! What really impressed me though is that the subject I thought he was blowing off, he actually cared about and thought about after the appointment. He said he consulted some colleagues and they agreed that May seemed like a long time to wait to see if my swimmers could go in the deep end when they should be back to the pre-chemo ways much sooner than that.
What is really cool, is that my oncologist came up with a way to not offend my urologist, by simply not telling him I was doing any of this. He suggested we go to a "fertility specialist" that will have me tested right away. I mention this to my cancer support group, where there has been another individual in a similar position. Somehow during the conversation I mention that wives are not allowed in the room during the "testing" to which they replied that they got to "test" as a couple. I feel cheated! I mean the first few times were fine being alone. After all I had a lot of reading material to look through, but now that I have seen all of those sticky pages, I wouldn't mind going through the test without having to touch something that cracked when you turned the pages.
All of this has put me in a much better mood than I have been during the scanxiety. I have a plan again, and hopefully will gain some good news or at least have a good game plan mapped out. If nothing else, I get to watch some "documentaries" again.
Last week I had a heart to heart with my oncologist and told him how much it was bothering me and that I didn't feel like waiting around until May to check the swimmers again as my urologist/surgeon had suggested. My oncologist was in a hurry and didn't really seem to be very interested in the conversation, but he said he agreed with me, made some suggestions and sent me on my way. I assumed that was the end of it.
Then this week my oncologist called while I was gone. The first reason I like my oncologist is that he didn't wait until I was home and leave some cryptic message, he talked to my wife and gave her information he knew I wanted to know. I am sure he broke fifteen or twenty "rules" about divulging medical information, but as the patient, I appreciate it. My wife has been to just about every oncologist appointment with me, and oncologists' calls are usually pretty important. One doesn't generally want to wait until the "next business day" to start playing phone tag.
The information he gave was my lab results saying that my "tumor markers" came back good. I have no idea what the heck "tumor markers" are, but if he is happy about them I am too. Whoopee tumor markers! What really impressed me though is that the subject I thought he was blowing off, he actually cared about and thought about after the appointment. He said he consulted some colleagues and they agreed that May seemed like a long time to wait to see if my swimmers could go in the deep end when they should be back to the pre-chemo ways much sooner than that.
What is really cool, is that my oncologist came up with a way to not offend my urologist, by simply not telling him I was doing any of this. He suggested we go to a "fertility specialist" that will have me tested right away. I mention this to my cancer support group, where there has been another individual in a similar position. Somehow during the conversation I mention that wives are not allowed in the room during the "testing" to which they replied that they got to "test" as a couple. I feel cheated! I mean the first few times were fine being alone. After all I had a lot of reading material to look through, but now that I have seen all of those sticky pages, I wouldn't mind going through the test without having to touch something that cracked when you turned the pages.
All of this has put me in a much better mood than I have been during the scanxiety. I have a plan again, and hopefully will gain some good news or at least have a good game plan mapped out. If nothing else, I get to watch some "documentaries" again.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Sometimes A Late Night Is Just A Late Night
Last night I planned on writing as soon as I finished my project. But at 4am I didn't feel much like writing. The good news is, I can tell it not scanxiety related insomnia, because if it were, I would be ready to do the same thing again, but I am not. I have been dead tired all day.
I doubt I am alone. If you are doing a boring, tedious project (especially if it is for someone else) sometimes you are glad to find an excuse to quit that project and do something else, even if that something else is sleep. When the project is your hobby and it is something you are excited to finish, nothing will get in your way. And that is what my issue was last night. I only had a few things left to finish, and I didn't want to wake up with a mess in the floor reminding me that I can't play until I finish what I had started.
I had also planned on writing the night before, but in preparation for my pet project, I decided to clean to the equipment I was installing last night. Two hours of scrubbing later and my wrists were shot and flopping around like a sock monkey's arms. I could barely hold my Pepsi much less write. And I said barely hold on to my Pepsi. Even if I were just a head, I could find a way to drink my Pepsi.
So, with my late night romp last night, my wife accused me of just being a normal insomniac and wanting me to find some prescription relief from my doctor. There is a big difference between staying up late occasionally and scanxiety insomnia or even regular insomnia. For instance, with my scanxiety, I went to bed only out of habit and then usually just laid there staring at the ceiling for another hour or two. I could get four hours of sleep or less and be ready to do it all over again the next day. Last night, I was dead tired when I finished my project and I think I actually fell asleep on the way to the bed. And today, even though I slept in late, my butt has been dragging all day. I don't think I will have any trouble getting to sleep tonight.
Outside of last night, ever since my oncologist appointment, my sleep pattern is almost that of a normal human being. Hopefully this means my wife will quit bugging me about needing some sort of sleep aid, until my scanxiety returns in three months with my next oncologist appointment, then we can start all over again.
I doubt I am alone. If you are doing a boring, tedious project (especially if it is for someone else) sometimes you are glad to find an excuse to quit that project and do something else, even if that something else is sleep. When the project is your hobby and it is something you are excited to finish, nothing will get in your way. And that is what my issue was last night. I only had a few things left to finish, and I didn't want to wake up with a mess in the floor reminding me that I can't play until I finish what I had started.
I had also planned on writing the night before, but in preparation for my pet project, I decided to clean to the equipment I was installing last night. Two hours of scrubbing later and my wrists were shot and flopping around like a sock monkey's arms. I could barely hold my Pepsi much less write. And I said barely hold on to my Pepsi. Even if I were just a head, I could find a way to drink my Pepsi.
So, with my late night romp last night, my wife accused me of just being a normal insomniac and wanting me to find some prescription relief from my doctor. There is a big difference between staying up late occasionally and scanxiety insomnia or even regular insomnia. For instance, with my scanxiety, I went to bed only out of habit and then usually just laid there staring at the ceiling for another hour or two. I could get four hours of sleep or less and be ready to do it all over again the next day. Last night, I was dead tired when I finished my project and I think I actually fell asleep on the way to the bed. And today, even though I slept in late, my butt has been dragging all day. I don't think I will have any trouble getting to sleep tonight.
Outside of last night, ever since my oncologist appointment, my sleep pattern is almost that of a normal human being. Hopefully this means my wife will quit bugging me about needing some sort of sleep aid, until my scanxiety returns in three months with my next oncologist appointment, then we can start all over again.
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