Now what?

"Austin's personality causes him to moderate feelings of happiness, so that he does not feel like he is making the mistake of assuming that things will remain good forever. This is not pessimism, but rather a desire to have his emotional state be rational and acceptable to his intellect."

A quote from one of Barbara's comments. It perplexes me that I cannot deny or verify this... it has the scent of truth, though. Is my level of self-awareness sub-par, or are there insights that aren't so readily available from the inside looking out. I think maybe neither: Barbara just knows me pretty damn well.


Anyways... I'm doing well; getting back into the swing of school. It's funny how school is like a trampoline wall -- the harder you push, the harder it pushes back. Sure, I can make it through school with an easy push... but I *want* to work hard right now... I *need* to... and school, it's pushing back.

But that is what is so great about school. You can *never* do enough studying, so there's always something to do. It's not like a movie or video game -- when it ends, you say to yourself: "Now what?" With learning, it just doesn't end.

I've pretty much forgotten the whole cancer thing. All it means, at this moment, is getting up at a dreadfully early hour and getting zapped for a few minutes. 8 more to go and I'm done.

I get the feeling that this sort of victory is anticlimactic. Funny, that.

As for my memories. Everything was relatively easy, except for the BMT.
The BMT is something I just want to forget forever -- except for those beautiful moments that make me feel love. I remember Barbara playing Chopin on her laptop... talking with Liz via my computer... watching her knit... watching Barbara knit... and, of course, many moments with my Mom. But most especially when she wheeled me outside, late at night, when I was low. Those moments make me smile. They also make me feel guilty for not expressing my love enough... for not excessively iterating my appreciation, gratitude, and love.

But, with the good comes the bad. I try to forget, but whenever I think about it in detail, I end up in an emotional funk for the rest of the evening. Thank god I have a few beers in the fridge and an episodes of House and 24 coming up.

[1-20-09] Day One

[6:21pm]
     The results are in: my scans are clean. Well, as clean as we can detect, anyway. My doctor tells me that "The fire is out, but we can't be sure that there aren't any hot embers just waiting for a gust of wind to flare up. That's what the radiation is for... those embers that might be lurking."

     But, as of now, I've done all that is required in hopes of a cure. My doctor tells me that if a relapse occurs at any point, then the strategy is no longer curative. The options become more scarce.
     But right now, I am in remission. My doctor tells me that, if I stay in remission for 5 years, he will pronounce me statistically cured. Basically, I have 1779 days left until I am free from the threat. The other milestone along the way is after two years of remission -- most Hodgkin's that do relapse, do so in that period. Today is day one.

     It's also the first day of school for me. It's hard for me to return... again. All those emotions and ambitions returning... Time to succeed.

     I also saw the radiation oncologist a few days ago. I have the "set up" scan scheduled in a few days. Then daily radiation for four weeks. It will probably start about a month from now.

     Funny how "Day One" is 9 days short of my cancer discovery. 1779 to go.

     As of now, my blog is scheduled to be updated "whenever I have something to talk about."

     Philosopher of the day: Epicurus (He's not what you think).