The Day of Hope came and went.
During this period I have been radiated again just to see what's going on. Usual suspects are still at work trying to undermine life as I know it.
Doctors have all said to wait for PD1 the new elixcir that will slow these buggers done. Sort of like watching Obama try to decide if he will bomb the terrorists or just watch them continue to make headway against civilization as we know it. How many heads will roll, literally, before action is taken? And, what is it with those people that they feel they need to cut off someone's head? Fucked up, man.
Oops, off track again and fallen into that politic ditch.
Let me see if I can pull myself out?
I had a thought the other day that our civilization, like my cancer, needs a strong and determine force to fight those forces that seek to undermine. I elect John Tesh!
But, in the meantime, the cancer is slowly continuing to grow. As Fred, my oncologist, told me, it has grown a little, but if it grows a little everything time I get checked, which is every three months, then after a while we can just say that it has grown. Like any problem that seems small but continues to grow, after a while its a bigger problem than when we first looked at it. Fucker.
Not good kemo sabe...
So, I continue to get radiated like a piece of spam in the microwave. Right now the powers that be feel that I should wait until I become symptomatic. In other words, until the cancer is ready to say, here I am folks. That could be a year or two waiting for that bus to come in.
Right now I am asymptomatic, showing no signs of having anything except advancing years. For which, I celebrated with a number of friends, my 62nd birthday.
Yippee for me.
Also my 32nd wedding anniversary, yippee for us.
And, to top it off, there is a new member in the Norris household. Rugby is just 11 weeks, and weighs about 21-22 pounds now, the picture above was taken a couple of weeks ago and he weighed about 15 pounds then. Nothing like having a new dog in the house.
I am thinking that I will compute my life according to dog years. Yes, I know, we have been down this path, but it is a fruitful philosophic place to be. I mean, when you get a certain age, you are closer to the end then the beginning, just by the position of the planets and stars in the heavens. So, if I begin counting my life in dog years, then...
....well, it's OK to call the EMTs and have me committed now. But, dogs have it great if they are with the right people and people have it good if they are with the right dog.
I sit back and watch the world collide with it's failed hubris, as my culture, narcissistic as it can be, blinds itself to reality, wallowing in self-pleasure and amusement.
Really, we know more about J-Lo, Kim, and Lebron, than we do about anyone who might be our future leader and steer this wreck toward safer waters, and one with enough strength to synch up the saddle that has gone slack the past 6 years. I mean, com'on Kemo sabe, let's get our collective shit together here.
Are we ready for the sacrifice? Honestly, I don't think we are. I know I am not really ready to start Chemo or whatever is in store for me, know what I mean Kemo Sabe, to extend my life into my dogs older years. But, sometimes there are no choices but to call in the marines and fight like hell.
So, here's to patience, a good weapon and the will to use it, and to living life like someone is trying to take it away from you, which they are, and it is.
Signing off,
Captain Jack Moonbeam, who has more radiation onboard than a groundhog at Chernobyl.
During this period I have been radiated again just to see what's going on. Usual suspects are still at work trying to undermine life as I know it.
Doctors have all said to wait for PD1 the new elixcir that will slow these buggers done. Sort of like watching Obama try to decide if he will bomb the terrorists or just watch them continue to make headway against civilization as we know it. How many heads will roll, literally, before action is taken? And, what is it with those people that they feel they need to cut off someone's head? Fucked up, man.
Oops, off track again and fallen into that politic ditch.
Let me see if I can pull myself out?
 |
| Rugby our bouvier des flandres puppy |
But, in the meantime, the cancer is slowly continuing to grow. As Fred, my oncologist, told me, it has grown a little, but if it grows a little everything time I get checked, which is every three months, then after a while we can just say that it has grown. Like any problem that seems small but continues to grow, after a while its a bigger problem than when we first looked at it. Fucker.
Not good kemo sabe...
So, I continue to get radiated like a piece of spam in the microwave. Right now the powers that be feel that I should wait until I become symptomatic. In other words, until the cancer is ready to say, here I am folks. That could be a year or two waiting for that bus to come in.
Right now I am asymptomatic, showing no signs of having anything except advancing years. For which, I celebrated with a number of friends, my 62nd birthday.
Yippee for me.
Also my 32nd wedding anniversary, yippee for us.
And, to top it off, there is a new member in the Norris household. Rugby is just 11 weeks, and weighs about 21-22 pounds now, the picture above was taken a couple of weeks ago and he weighed about 15 pounds then. Nothing like having a new dog in the house.
I am thinking that I will compute my life according to dog years. Yes, I know, we have been down this path, but it is a fruitful philosophic place to be. I mean, when you get a certain age, you are closer to the end then the beginning, just by the position of the planets and stars in the heavens. So, if I begin counting my life in dog years, then...
....well, it's OK to call the EMTs and have me committed now. But, dogs have it great if they are with the right people and people have it good if they are with the right dog.
I sit back and watch the world collide with it's failed hubris, as my culture, narcissistic as it can be, blinds itself to reality, wallowing in self-pleasure and amusement.
Really, we know more about J-Lo, Kim, and Lebron, than we do about anyone who might be our future leader and steer this wreck toward safer waters, and one with enough strength to synch up the saddle that has gone slack the past 6 years. I mean, com'on Kemo sabe, let's get our collective shit together here.
Are we ready for the sacrifice? Honestly, I don't think we are. I know I am not really ready to start Chemo or whatever is in store for me, know what I mean Kemo Sabe, to extend my life into my dogs older years. But, sometimes there are no choices but to call in the marines and fight like hell.
So, here's to patience, a good weapon and the will to use it, and to living life like someone is trying to take it away from you, which they are, and it is.
Signing off,
Captain Jack Moonbeam, who has more radiation onboard than a groundhog at Chernobyl.
