On the road to Alberquerque in one of the
many storms we passed, my newly rearranged face.
November 25th, Alberquerque road trip
I know it's been along time since I've written.
That's what school will do to you, and a normal life, and a tendency
to get sidetracked, and etc... But now I'm on a long road trip
and I have a moment to get the Lymphoma Journal up to date. So
first, let's get the recovering cancer patient stuff out of the
way and then I'll move on to my life in general and the fun stuff....
Very little remains of my life with cancer.
A terrible case of dandruff resutling from a year of having no
hair (and no routine washing) has left my scalp incredibly sensitive
to shampoo. A year ago I was wearing beanies to hide my bald head.
Today I'm wearing a beanie to hide the snow stom on my head that
rivals "the greatest snow on Earth."
On the subject of hair, I have grown tired
of debates over wether my hair is now straighter or darker or
thicker or better. As far as I've noticed I still have to shave
and even comb sometimes.... Okay, I don't really mind talking
about my new hair...I'm proud to have some, and it's pretty fun
because it likes to stand up a lot and do it's own thing. My beard
is definitely more red now, though still mostly scraggly.....
The crooks in all my fingernails which resulted
from the chemotherapeutic onslaught have finally grown out, splintered
off and dissappeared. Now it's safe to use them to open up the
swiss arm knife again.
My lungs at peak capacity still feel like
they're at 60%, which is also what my pulmonary tests say. Reguardless,
I've been enjoying my longest mountainbiking seasons ever and
have been riding stronger every day.
The super intense moments I was enjoying
as I regained my lifestyle have tapered off. Now a good day seems
more like just another good day.The magic has slightly worn off.
Occasioanlly I remind myself that I am still a walking phenomonon
of modern science, luck, or some unfathomable event. Life is good
- I've changed for the better.
Then there are the moments of terror when
I feel symptoms from my treatment and pre-diagnosis period: momentary
nausia, stomach cramps, paranoia. Hard to say where these stray
feeling come from, but as time rolls on I become less and less
likely to have a recurrance. Time is my friend.
We awoke covered in snow in Moab on our way home.
Snowed out on our last bike ride of the season.(Notice how dissapointed
So where does that leave me now? Well, as
I write, Christine and I are speeding along in the battered Honda
on our way back to SLC. The roads are icy and curvy, the window
grimed over. Like my life, it's hard to see where we're going,
but we're speeding along with a sence of urgency anyway.
I've been spending a lot of time at the
computer working on design. So much time that I'm not sure it's
a good thing. But while designing I become obsessive. And to cater
to that obsession feels good.
I've been biking a lot, too, and crashing
while biking. This may stem from that sence of urgency again,
that need to squeeze it all in despite the danger or whatever.
When faced with seemingly unsurmountable challenges, I used to
say " another day". Lately I suppose I give it a shot with a twisted
sence of spontenaity? Brevity? Last chance gumption? This attitude
has been fun, but it also explains my cracked helmet, split lip,
constant bruises and rock star sun glasses. Did I mention that
I like this living stuff.
Ohhh, Boy. Now look at all this snow. A
whole new winter world is about to open up before me. With six
feet of snow over Thanksgiving weekend our season has started
with a bang. Time to start skiing. Yessssssss.......
Our backyard after thanksgiving weekend
"In the morning I put
the comma in.
In the afternoon, I took the comma out."
By Oscar Wilde