  
                  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 
                Kuma is). 
                
               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 
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