December 29th, 2016

I've decided to take a hiatus for a little while to focus on other writing projects.

December 14th, 2016

Tomorrow I have another set of PET/CT scans. I should have the results by next Monday, and I'll post them here along with whatever course of action we'll follow based on the results. That's all for now!

Update: More of the same. Inconclusive scan results, everything is mostly stable, minor growth in a couple nodes, though perhaps not significant. We'll do another 2 cycles of chemo and see what happens in 8 weeks.

December 5th, 2016

Controversial opinions competing to be shouted the loudest, an emphasis on proving others wrong, and attempts at delivering the ultimate telling-off seem to dominate public discourse these days. You only need to check twitter—or read the news reports on the latest, most controversial tweets—to see what I mean. Divisions loom everywhere. What most of us seem to forget is that disagreement is not the real issue. It is a profound failure to do so respectfully and a lack of willingness to learn from disagreement that creates a far more severe problem.

We need opposing voices to keep ourselves in check, to make us question our own opinions and see the merits of other ideas. Without disagreement we fall into the trap of believing our opinions are the only right ones, or that we’ve thought things through far more than we actually have. When we callously dismiss dissenting views as misinformed or too extreme to be worth considering objectively, we harm ourselves. Even the most ridiculous claims or horrid statements can often be useful in this regard. Extreme ideas define the boundaries of our conversations and keep us wary of moving too far too quickly. They serve as checks and balances on each other. We need outlandish voices we don't agree with to keep us consistent in our own opinions. When we cry foul and denounce those with whom we disagree, we alienate and divide further. When we respectfully and humbly acknowledge whatever truth others may impart while stating we disagree with the rest of their statements, everyone benefits.

With regards to cancer care, I’ve seen two extremes that would do well to listen to one another. On one side, some people argue that only modern medicine can have any effect on cancer; diet and environmental factors aren’t worth considering when planning treatment options. Standing opposed to that idea is the crowd that rejects modern medicine in favor of natural, holistic cures. Both of those views are, in my opinion, too extreme. As such they can both learn from each other. The people who swear by their turmeric-infused smoothies and those who trust only what is empirically proven would do well to acknowledge whatever wisdom the other side offers.

In the middle are people like me. I recognize that only with modern medicine am I even alive today, but I also try to limit my consumption of processed foods like refined sugars and corn syrups. There may as yet be no real scientific evidence that they’re harmful, but it also stands to reason that eating more real and natural foods—that is, eating a diet that resembles what the human body is designed to process—can’t hurt.

Yes, sometimes opposing viewpoints are devoid of any redeeming quality. Sometimes, and increasingly it seems, people form their opinions from blind prejudice or blatant misinformation, and that is a real and insidious threat to constructive conversation. If we aren't dealing with the same reality and the same basic facts, we can't hope to build anything together; we're starting from two very different foundations using incompatible blueprints. Sometimes there really is no point humbling ourselves and considering what we might learn about our own opinions when we consider someone else’s. But that occurs far less often than anyone, myself included, likes to admit.

November 28th, 2016

I briefly considered writing a list of everything I was thankful for here, but I quickly noticed a theme that bears exploring. The things I am most thankful for are more intangible than material, abstract rather than concrete, or at the very least not inanimate objects. I don't mean to sound ungrateful for the things I have; I have a lot of stuff, and a lot of it is great. For example I'm very thankful for my super comfy memory foam pillow which cradles my head at just the right angle every night and many afternoons. It really is the best and I don't know what I'd do without it. The point though is I do not want for material goods, and I am, when I stop to think about it, thankful for them all.

But I am more thankful for the fact that I do not lack material goods than I am thankful for those goods in and of themselves. I am also much more thankful for what they allow me to do. I am thankful for my car, but far more so for the places it allows me to go and the road trips I have taken with my wife and dog. I am thankful for my snowboard, but much more grateful that I have health enough to snowboard still and for our upcoming family ski trip to Vermont. For every material possession I have, I am more grateful for how it enriches my life than I am for the simple fact that I possess it.

At a higher level I am thankful for the relationships I enjoy and the people that I love. I am blessed with wonderful family and friends, and that is far more valuable than any material possession can ever be. As we leave Thanksgiving Day behind and enter a wildly commercialized month of encouraged greed and consumerism, I think that's worth remembering.

November 21st, 2016

A probable allergy to chapstick followed by shingles—not the kind on your roof—has made the past week anything but dull. Now everything seems to be settling down. My lips aren't swollen and itchy anymore and we caught the shingles very early, before they started to hurt instead of just tingle mildly. If nothing else it's been a good reminder that while treatment has largely been going smoothly the last half-year, I still am very much a cancer patient. My current treatment might not be half as grueling as what I’ve been through in the past, and I might feel fine most of the time, but I still can't really count on my good health. At least, not enough to make many long-term plans.

Aside from the traveling for fun we may want to do, made difficult by my weekly chemo infusions, far more important life-goals and plans are also still on hold. My wife and I moving out on our own seems unattainable right now. Partly the specter of an ACA repeal means we'll likely have to stay in New York State for me to have reliable health insurance not tied to employment. Beyond that though, getting conventional jobs seems nearly impossible. Even the substitute teaching work my wife has been picking up lately became highly inconvenient this past week as I visited and phoned different doctors to figure out what was going on. Much of today was spent just communicating with different doctors both here in Corning and in New York City to change the dosage of a medication, order more prescriptions, and make sure everyone was on the same page. It’s a two person job to manage all that. There’s a lot less to do now than there was two years ago when I was just starting treatment, but it’s still a time-consuming task, and managing my healthcare remains our primary job. I don’t know when or even if I’ll be able to work a normal job again, and that’s beyond my control.

Writing, long my hobby and more recently a serious career aspiration, might help with that eventually. But a career in writing is in many ways no more under my control than my health. Yes, it’s up to me to spend a lot of time writing, editing, and getting feedback, and I do that as best I can. I'm now about halfway through book two in The Legacy of Rythka, the fantasy series I've been working on over the last year, and I've made some decent headway on another book too. But at the end of the day I need a publisher to like my book. Largely that lies beyond my control. I need people to enjoy reading what I write too; again, not really within my sphere of influence. It feels at times like there is very little in my life that I do control.

And that feeling is spot on. Not much in life is within our control or even falls under our ability to influence. Our culture fosters the illusion of control, and it is easy to forget how little power we really have. We plan and schedule our days, we believe our hard work will pay off, and we take for granted that we’re living longer than ever. And to an extent we should. It’s easy to give up and stop caring about much without some feeling of control. Believing everything in life will play out as it will regardless of our own efforts is far too extreme a view in the other direction. But we cannot see the future and we cannot know how our lives will play out. All we can do is try our best, and remember that we are not as powerful as we like to think.

November 14th, 2016

I'm feeling more and more fatigued as these 'easy' chemo treatments continue. Simple tasks like laundry or enjoyable pastimes like walking the dogs leave me light-headed and winded. I also absentmindedly skimped on the Biotene mouthwash a couple weeks ago and paid for it with a weirdly-placed mouth sore on the side of my tongue. But if those are the worst side-effects of my current treatment, I'm doing fine. Physically, at least. Emotionally this past week has been a lot rougher.

Shock took hold around 4am on election night.  Perhaps if any polls had prepared me for Tuesday night's results, the surprise would have been less. The shock soon gave way to despair. Maybe if, before the election, I had started researching my limited options for health insurance after an ACA repeal, my despair—at least that small part of my despair that I felt for myself—would not have been as deep. As it was I cried for myself, for my wife, and for everyone else who felt despair. I wondered if I could have done more to communicate how parts of the ACA had benefited me and others in similar situations. I felt that I had failed to get my message out to people. Every vote for a candidate who vowed to repeal the ACA felt very personal, which only added to my sadness on behalf of those who had been singled out in much more personal ways during the campaign. I could well imagine the despair felt by people in the minority, be they minorities of language, ethnicity, country of origin, sexual orientation, or religion, even if I could scarcely know the depths of their fears.

Then, in a turn that Master Yoda probably saw coming, that despair turned to anger. I was angry that so many people, nearly half of those who cast ballots, could have voted the way they did. Some of my reasons for being angry were overblown. Some are legitimate. But I know if I had remembered the people who disagreed with me instead of simply seeing numbers of voters, I would not have been so angry, and certainly not at the people themselves. I failed last week to keep love for God and love for others first, and I let anger win. For that, I am sorry.

Today for the first time since the election results rolled in I feel encouraged. I've been part of more constructive conversations about serious issues in the last six days than during the last six weeks, maybe even months. I've talked with people I've known for years and with some I've never met in person. Through it all I've gained a better understanding of the human side of different issues, the people whose stories make different ideas make sense. Yes, not too far in the back of my mind I still feel horror at what may happen to the already-marginalized, and I shudder to think what environmentally disastrous policies may soon be implemented. But I have hope. I have hope that through tough conversations we will make progress and address the underlying causes of many problems facing our society. I have hope that we will all understand the consequences of hatred and work towards mutual respect, especially when we disagree. Most of all though I have hope that God's love will be spread now more than ever. We need it.

November 7th, 2016

Tomorrow we citizens of the U.S. will choose a new President (and many other elected positions). I’m more than ready for this election to be over so we can start the hard work of healing and coming together again. The past year or so I've seen and heard a lot about how this election has divided us to unprecedented extents. I don't mean to minimize how bizarre this year has been politically, how unlike previous campaigns this presidential race and the rhetoric surrounding it has been, but I don't think that's quite correct. We have been more divided before—see "American Civil War”—but that aside I'm not entirely convinced this election really has split the U.S. in two. It seems to me that it has merely shown us how divided we always were, deeper down, below the level of openness any of us were comfortable with, beyond what we disclosed to others.

Sure, the divide has grown as each side attacks the other with increasing vitriol and hate. Yes, it has gotten much harder to find suitable places on each side of the chasm to even build the foundations for a bridge, much less successfully span the gap between us. But the rift between the staunch supporters of each major-party presidential candidate was always there.

Neither major-party presidential candidate has really inspired their followers to stand behind any new causes. They have merely legitimized what their supporters already thought. And that, to me, is more depressing than it is anything else. We have so much more work to do before we really can claim to be a land of opportunity and equality for all. Racism, sexism, bigotry, xenophobia, lies, fear-mongering, corruption, bullying, and, at the root of it all, a blatant lack of respect for basic human dignity have all been normalized over the course of this presidential campaign. Both sides have played a part in some of these. One far more than the other, and I think anyone who is honest with themselves knows which side that is, but to differing extents both major-party candidates—and certainly their supporters—are guilty.

Perhaps it's the social convention banning political discussion from family gatherings for the sake of getting along that deserves some of the blame here; it certainly creates a narrative that discussing politics and getting along are mutually exclusive. When respectful political discourse is not a part of interacting with people we know and love, the stage is set for election years like this. Now most political arguments lurk in semi-anonymous social media feeds where respect is absent and people who disagree with us are nameless, faceless "others." Perhaps if we started discussing real issues with close friends and family more, we might begin to realize why those on the other side think and feel as they do. They usually have a reason.

That may be a good first step, but it might take more than engaging in real, constructive discussions with friends and family. I recently watched the very disappointing Independence Day: Resurgence which, though little more than an excuse to see Jeff Goldblum and some combat between aliens and humans, raised one very interesting point. The premise builds on the first Independence Day film, wherein aliens come to destroy earth and are repelled by ‘Merica and Freedom (it’s not nearly as bad as I make it sound). Twenty years later the world is at peace, having united in the face of a threatening “other” while realizing our common humanity. As a side note, Africa (I don’t recall a reference to a more specific locale than the whole continent) seems to be forgotten when the world united. Warlords there have apparently been fighting aliens in hand-to-tentacle combat since the first movie. I’d say it’s an intentional commentary on how easily we overlook the Third World, but I rather doubt it.

Getting back to my point here. Sometimes it takes something terrible and different to unite people, to make people see that, compared to the new threat, they really have a lot in common. In the Independence Day Movies, it takes an alien invasion for us to put aside our petty differences. Throughout history squabbling groups have allied against a third, more different group. Human nature urges us to band together with those we consider to be like us, the better to defend against those who are different. Viewing the world as an "us vs. them" dichotomy is a simultaneously uniting and dividing force. It all depends on who is in and who is out.

I suspect we will soon see many appeals to patriotism and calls to unify the United States against ISIS, Russia, China, or some other entity. And that’s just as sad as the division within the U.S. right now. Those are still groups of people. I wish the ‘others’ we united against were things like war itself, climate change, and systemic poverty. For me, cancer is a terrible threat we should unite and rally against. There are many other legitimate issues we must work together to solve, but casting our fellow humans in the role of “terrible other” is dangerous at best. That’s how we stay divided.

Repairing the growing rift between those allied with different political parties will be difficult. Those who label themselves—or more often label others—as “liberal” or “conservative” like those are derogatory words seem almost beyond reconciliation. I hope that is not the case. I hope that, whoever gets elected, we can start working together and having real conversations about serious issues. It starts with our conversations, our interactions with the people around us. But it must not come at the cost of unity with people elsewhere.

October 10th, 2016

Just a quick housekeeping note. There will be no regular blog posts until the end of the month. I should be able to write here some over the next three weeks but I doubt it will be at my usual Monday evening time. I will be out of the country visiting relatives in Vancouver. That is all!

October 3rd, 2016

Seemingly every week brings new lows to the political conversation going on in the United States. We see candidates show less and less concern with (inter)national issues while growing more and more embroiled in personal attacks. The conversations I hear--and more often see on social media--reflect this too. If there ever was a time when people engaged in respectful discourse about opposing viewpoints, it feels long gone. Too often people seem more concerned with proving the opposition wrong than with promoting their own views, and I cannot think of the last time I've heard anyone with the humility to admit they might be wrong, or at least acknowledge that their opinion may not be the only valid one out there. I know I certainly have been guilty of all these things, and more, and I sincerely apologize for any conversations I've been a part of in which I have been less than gracious.

Lately the combination of the unprecedented prevalence of political conversations and their unpleasant tones has begun to really grate on me. More than anything though, I am saddened by the deep discord among Christians. I've seen articles about both major party candidates stating that they are the only right or moral choice for true Christians, come election day. More disturbing is the fierceness with which Christians have begun defending their chosen candidate and attacking both the other candidate and their supporters. I can only shake my head in sadness and disappointment, and, if I'm honest, feel myself agreeing sometimes. And I hate that.

I want to promote peaceful and respectful dialogue, though I find myself sucked in to the mire of political arguments at times; I cannot claim perfection by any means in this area, try as I might to stay respectful. I know as well as anyone how difficult it can be to keep a civil tone, for there are very important issues and serious consequences at stake. But when we stoop to personal attacks, stating our own views as facts or stating facts haughtily as if knowing them makes us better humans somehow, Jesus is not proud of us for being right. When we seek to show we are right and others are wrong, rather than gain a better understanding of other views and respectfully share our own beliefs and the path that led us to hold them, we do not show the rest of the world what it means to follow Christ's teaching and example. When so many Christians spew so much hatred at one another over politics, it makes us a vale of shadows to be avoided, not a light on a hill to be sought.

Yes, there are important differences between the candidates running for office. Our world will likely be rather different with one or the other as President. I have about as much at stake as anyone else, given that my cancer, now a "pre-existing condition," would cost me my health insurance coverage if the Affordable Care Act is repealed, as many politicians want. I do not take lightly the fact that I am alive today thanks to more than a million dollars of medical treatment over the last couple years. I care deeply who gets elected and what they do once in office. But that still gives me no right to yell at anyone about politics, to declare that I am right and that to disagree with me is to be a misinformed idiot who wants to kill cancer patients. No matter how much I might want to at times. One thing cancer has taught me is that you never know what someone else might be going through. If someone posts an inflammatory Facebook status about their political views, answer their anger and frustration with kindness and love. It may not change their mind, but it might be just what they need.

September 26th, 2016

Following my semi-planned month off here I am now resuming my weekly blog posts every Monday evening! (Super exciting, I know). I'll start with two pieces of cautiously optimistic news.

First, after a PET and CT scan this past Thursday I received my scan results in record time on Friday afternoon, thanks in no small part to the efforts and persistence of one of our favorite doctors at Sloan Kettering.  My apologies to the radiology team who I know was badgered with requests to have my results ready as swiftly as possible; please know that I greatly appreciate your efforts and promptness. Learning my scan results on Friday instead of today made for a much more enjoyable and relaxing weekend, mostly because my scan results were pretty good!

Everything looks stable, with nothing growing a statistically significant amount. The larger spot they were most concerned about on the last scan even shrank a little and became less PET avid, a promising sign. For now I will continue with the chemo regimen I've been doing the last few months, going in to the cancer center in Corning once a week for a pair of infusions and taking a pill at home every evening. Having a chronic cancer might not be an ideal situation, but for now it's alright. It could be far worse. In three months I'll go back to MSKCC and have another set of scans and we'll go from there. These are very encouraging results, and it seems that my current chemotherapy treatments are, at the very least, keeping any remaining spots of disease from growing, if not reducing them slowly. We'll gladly take it.

My second bit of cautiously hopeful news is that a publisher is now reading a sample of the manuscript for my next book and has generously agreed to share their thoughts on it with me. Through my mentor with MSKCC's Visible Ink writing program I was put in touch with someone who works for a sci-fi and fantasy imprint of one of the "big five" publishing houses. Their feedback and advice will no doubt be immensely helpful in my quest to find a publisher eventually. I am, needless to say, greatly indebted to both my Visible Ink mentor and his contact who agreed to critique my writing, and I would be remiss to not thank them here. So, thank you very, very much. I truly appreciate the time you are volunteering to help me out.

I'm taking a hiatus from querying agents until I hear back about my manuscript and have a better idea who might be a good match for it and how to pitch it to them. This gives me more time to write my next few books, which I'm really enjoying getting back in to. I hit 30,000 words recently on the second book in 'The Legacy of Rythka' series, so it's starting to come along, which is certainly exciting. That and finishing home improvement projects (and moving our things back into our once-flooded, newly-renovated room) keeps me pretty busy.

But I don't think I'm going to write any more tonight. Instead I plan to watch the presidential debate, which should prove excellent entertainment. I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing.

August 22nd, 2016

This week I finished the final edits for the first book in 'The Legacy of Rythka,' the five-book fantasy series I am working on currently. I've had several other people read it and give their feedback (you know who you are; thanks!) and most recently I've enjoyed the privilege of being part of a writing mentorship program through Sloan Kettering. The Visible Ink program at MSKCC pairs patients with volunteer mentors, successful writers based in New York City. I've gained great insights about fine-tuning my writing, perhaps most importantly removing hundreds of commas from my manuscript. I've known for a while that I tend to throw commas in far too often, but I have a difficult time seeing it on my own. Receiving the level of feedback and advice that I've gotten through this mentoring program has been truly invaluable, and it is enormously relieving to know that my manuscript is at long last thoroughly edited, refined, proofread, and ready to send out. 

 Now begins in earnest the difficult and time-consuming task of securing an agent who will in turn find a publisher. The whole system and process moves far slower than I'd prefer and seems like a bit of a racket, but there isn't really anything I can do about that. So, I will simply try to send out ten queries a day until someone agrees to represent my work! I've had a handful of agents respond favorably and request a larger sample of my manuscript, but so far none of those have panned out, at least not yet. It's difficult to wait weeks for agents to reply, hoping that at least one of them will take an interest in my book. But it's hardly a foreign experience for me. If there's one thing cancer has given me plenty of practice with it's waiting for results beyond my control. I guess it's appropriate I'd pick a career that, at this stage at least, consists of much of the same.

August 1st, 2016

Well, my PET and CT scan results weren't perfect, but they could have been a whole lot worse too! All but one of the lymph nodes they've been tracking are unchanged or smaller since the last scan I had, back in the end of March. One of them is a little larger and more PET active, but not by much. So, yet again, my scans are a bit ambiguous and we have to wait to see what happens. I'll have more scans in eight weeks, after another two rounds of chemo. It still isn't the 'all clear' I really want, but it is also a much more manageable result than many people with DSRCT ever get. I'm extremely fortunate to be getting closer to two years after diagnosis at all, much less in this good of shape. I can still ride rollercoasters, play disc golf, work on landscaping, write, and do pretty much anything else (that doesn't involve lifting more than 40 pounds, at least). As much as I might get annoyed at yet another scan that isn't perfect, I'm also immensely grateful for how well treatment is going right now.

I'll be continuing my current regimen of maintenance chemo--two infusions on Wednesdays and a pill each evening--for at least another eight weeks. Since several of the lymph nodes they're tracking actually decreased, it seems likely that the chemotherapy i'm doing now is making some difference, which is great! It's even quite possible that the one larger lymph node is actually trending down now despite being larger than it was on the scans from March; it may have grown in the time between the scan in March and the start of this current chemo regimen in June. The alternative of course is that the lymph node is cancerous and currently growing, but the next scan in eight weeks will give us a better picture of what's actually happening right now, while I'm going through this phase of treatment. Until the next scan in eight weeks, there's not much else to do but keep on going a day at a time.

July 25th, 2016

Thursday I'll have my next set of scans. Yet again my future will in large part be determined by their results. I really don't know what to expect, since I've never yet had a clear scan, but I've also had more treatment--surgery, radiation, and chemo--since my last scan. I hope they're clear, but we'll see I suppose. We should hear the results Friday or Monday, and I should be able to let you know what we find out in a week!

July 11th, 2016

I spent a blissful few days camping and going to two different theme parks this past week. Only when I arrived back home did I realize just how much had happened while I scarcely paid attention to the news. More people getting shot, more protests, retaliations, and an appalling abundance of hatred, ignorance, and division. More of the same, really, though to an unprecedented extent. It hurts my heart to see lives ended so needlessly, to see situations that should be avoidable repeating themselves over and over, to see disrespect and disregard for others growing all around. Perhaps most disheartening of all is that so little is happening to generate real, meaningful change. It is only a matter of time before we forget the names of those who were recently killed by police and those police officers killed on the job, because the next batch of killings--be it mass shootings, the murders of civilians by police officers, or vice versa--will come all too soon, and will take our attention away from the events of the past week.

I don't really think I have much of anything new to add to the conversation. I don't think anyone does, by this point. We've all voiced our thoughts on these issues far too many times by now, and we will have to voice them too many more times, before anything really changes. The only way I see anything getting resolved is by building relationships and having real conversations in-person with people on all sides of these difficult issues, not by arguing through Facebook comments or other semi-anonymous online forums. We need to stop dehumanizing the 'other side,' whoever they may be. We need to put faces and names and unique personalities to the groups we stereotype. We need to be honest about our own prejudices. Which brings me to my main point here: We need to realize that just about all of us are racist to some extent.

Nearly everyone who claims otherwise is likely either ignorant or dishonest (with themselves, primarily). I don't think I personally know anyone who can truly say they never make a judgement about someone based on their appearance. I know that I judge people based on how they look every day, despite my best efforts. Furthermore I know that sometimes, to some extent, a person's apparent race plays a part in my assessment of them. I try to be conscious of this, and to fight against it, but I know I am not always as vigilant against myself as I ought to be. I know that I sometimes consider race when forming my opinion of others, be it positive or negative, and I suspect that most other people do as well, to varying extents.

Until we acknowledge this, we will never move forward, and racial tension and inequality will continue to flourish. In my experience those who most vehemently deny being racist also most often exhibit racist behavior and beliefs, however subtly. Recognizing our own biases--whether we make negative or positive assumptions based on someone's apparent race--is a critical and little-discussed first step towards fixing anything. I have only realized my own biases far more recently than I would like to admit, and I am still very much a work-in-progress. It’s well past time we all take an honest look at ourselves. Only then can we hope to work toward any meaningful change. 

June 27th, 2016

Yesterday I had the privilege of worshipping in South Bend with the church I grew up in. Though it had been a few years--over three I think?--since I had last been to a Sunday morning service there, in several ways it felt like going home. The warm welcome we received only added to the wonderful level of support and generosity we have enjoyed from that congregation since this whole cancer ordeal began. In many ways, I felt like I had never left.

Sure, the church has a new name that I struggle to remember off the top of my head: Church of the Savior (yeah, I googled it just to be sure). Yes, there were dozens of new faces I did not recognize, and many people I would have loved to see but did not get the chance to. But I also got to meet several people I have known only through Facebook or email, and reconnect with a great many old friends. The wonderful Hanstra family, with whom we stayed Saturday night, even managed to put together a lovely cookout after church on just a couple days' notice. We relished (get it? cookout, relish?) the chance to spend more time Sunday afternoon talking with everyone from church who was able to attend.

I think in many ways It felt like I had never left because really, I hadn't. I know I have continually been thought of and prayed for by so many there. I have never left their hearts, nor have they left mine. I cannot help but think that this provides an excellent example of church at its best. It scarcely matters how far away I may live, or how long it has been between visits. This group of brothers and sisters in Christ will always be family.



P.S. apparently "worshipping" is not the standard spelling of the word here in the U.S. but "worshiping" just looks wrong to me.

June 21st, 2016

Waiting. It might be a more appropriate topic for Advent, but it plays a significant part in my life right now, so that's what I'm going to talk about tonight. Christina and I do a lot of waiting these days. Tomorrow we will wait an hour or two for my chemo to start, and then another hour or so before it ends. We are also waiting for my next scans in about a month so that we can start waiting for those results. We decided to wait for the next scan results before we find at least part-time jobs and start working again, since it strikes us as irresponsible to make any work commitments that might easily get broken right away, should we have to go back to NYC for more treatment. Basically, we're waiting. A lot.

To combat all the waiting, we're making a concerted effort not to put life experiences on hold. Going to a Stanley Cup Finals game in Pittsburgh, a Formula One race in Montreal, multiple theme parks, and camping all in just the past couple weeks certainly furthers that goal, as does catching up with old friends and visiting with relatives, which we have been doing and will continue to do throughout the summer. We're staying very busy and making great memories, but at the end of the day that really only goes so far. To those whose hectic lives make them wish for more free time, I have two pieces of advice (which as always, feel free to ignore). First, go out of your way to make that extra time to enjoy enriching experiences and make memories that matter. Second, don't forget to appreciate your health and ability to have a busy schedule, to have work to do.

I'm reaching the point now where I feel a visceral need to be productive, to do something with my time that helps others and makes a difference in the world. Really were it not for this blog and the books I'm writing, I'd be well past that point already. Writing has helped me in many ways get through my cancer treatments over the last year and a half (and counting). Currently it gives me something to work on that feels productive, something to do that, I hope, might make a difference in the world. Who knows; maybe someday someone somewhere will read something I wrote, and a new way of viewing the world, of experiencing God's love, of thinking about life will occur to them. It's that kind of thought that keeps me reflecting, listening, and writing.

It's hard though when every week I get more rejections from agents regarding my next book. That's something else I'm waiting for by the way; an agent for the fantasy series I'm writing. (book one is done, and I'm looking for an agent....anyone? Anyone? Bueller?) I know it takes time to find an agent, and then more time for them to find a publisher, and I'm really fine with that. The process is simply slow and a bit ridiculous, and that's alright I suppose. What makes it difficult is that I don't--in all likelihood--have ten years to build a readership. I'm not trying to be morbid, but those are the facts. It's hard to be patient in such a situation, but I'm getting pretty good at waiting.

June 6th, 2016

First off, it seems that I'm moving my weekly blog posts to Monday. No real reason, other than Monday is when they seem to happen. So from now on, check back here on Monday evening, if you want to read my blog in the future. Since you are right now, I'll assume you do!

Chemotherapy is scheduled to start Wednesday. It was supposed to start last week Tuesday, but one of the chemo drugs takes a while for insurance companies to approve, and that wasn't ready in time. So we went to Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey, because I've wanted to go there since 2005 when they built what was at the time the tallest and fastest roller coaster in the world (still tallest, no longer fastest). Very glad we found a deal on season passes to all Six Flags parks for the same price as a one-day ticket when we were in California last march. The main point here is that I did not start the next round of chemo last week, so we went to a theme park instead. Sometimes people say cancer treatment is like a roller coaster, but I much prefer the real deal to the simile. 

Now the insurance approval went through, and everything looks to be lined up pretty well. As always, "everyone handles it differently" so we can't be sure exactly what to expect, but it's supposed to be fairly easy. Not much nausea or anything. Hopefully that holds true, since my dad and I are meeting up with an uncle in Montreal this weekend for the Formula One Grand Prix. Should be a good guys' weekend of car racing (and roller coasters--more on that in a second). If you didn't know, I started following F1 last year since I needed a sports-related distraction and football and hockey seasons don't cover July and August. While we're in Montreal I'm also planning on at least briefly going to the Six Flags park there. Not sure if I mentioned it yet but I really like roller coasters. I'll be bringing all my anti-nausea drugs, just in case the chemo makes everything weird. It does that sometimes.

Other than that I'm spending a lot of time reading and writing. Mostly writing. Recently I found out there's a writing mentorship program for patients at MSKCC so I joined that. It will be great to get more feedback on the books I'm writing. I recently finished another round of editing for my next book, and it's as done as I can get it, for now at least. I'm sure an editor at a publisher could find things they want to change, but that's down the road a little. For now I'm focusing on sending a ton of query letters to agents (because you can't send books straight to publishers anymore). Some agents won't even accept manuscripts without a referral. It all feels like a broken/patchwork system going through some intense growing pains. But it's the system in place right now, so I'll keep sending query letters. Fingers crossed.

May 23rd, 2016

Radiation, complete! This second stint of radiation therapy has been far easier than the first. I'm preemptively avoiding acidic foods to stave off heartburn, but that has been very mild. The only other side-effects have been a slight crinkling in my lower left lung from a little fluid around the lung, and a tightness in my chest on occasion. It could be heartburn, or a minor irritation of the heart itself. I suspect the latter. At any rate, nothing like the debilitating stomach irritation from my first radiation treatment has shown up, nor should it. Everything has been, all things considered, calm and manageable, and the minor side effects I am experiencing go unnoticed most of the time and should resolve themselves in a few weeks.

Next up comes a pretty low-dose, maintenance type of chemotherapy. I can't exactly say I'm looking forward to it, but it should be pretty straightforward and simple. We plan on doing that here in Corning, since it is only one day each week of infusions. Once we see how the first round goes we'll be able to figure out what comes next for us. If all proceeds as smoothly as expected, the next step for us is probably to find work here in Corning. Of course there's always a chance my books will start selling more, or I'll find a publisher for the series I'm working on currently, but for now working at least part time seems like the most likely candidate. We also have relatives across the continent we want to visit, and, in an ideal world, more national parks to visit as well (I've somehow never been to Glacier or Denali, for example). There's no shortage of options. For now though, I have the week off before I start chemo on the 31st, which works out great because, somehow, in two days it will be our 3rd anniversary.

That's three years of marriage and over a year and a half since my diagnosis. It's weird that I've had cancer for over half our marriage now. In some ways it seems like only a day or two ago we sat eating Domino's pizza in a Super 8 in New Jersey the evening before my first meeting with the team at MSKCC. It just does not feel like over half our marriage has involved hospitals, surgery, chemo, and more. I suppose partly that's because we knew each other for several years before we got married. But when I look back on the last year and a half the recollections that come most readily to my mind are not the sickness of chemo and radiation, the pain of recovering from surgery, the side effects of treatment and the side effects of the drugs to reduce the first side effects.

Rather, I remember more the fun we've had. The football, baseball, and most especially the hockey games, the Bronx Zoo, the Lion King on Broadway, and general exploring of NYC are all great memories, but even more I remember the quiet, more normal moments; sitting and reading in our favorite spot in Central Park, watching Parks and Recreation, figuring out how these newfangled things called 'videogames' work, writing a blog post or chapter in my next book while Christina journals, roasting marshmallows around a campfire surrounded by snowy mountains in Sequoia National Park (alright, maybe that isn't 'normal,' but it should be!). I guess, to make a long story short, it doesn't seem like cancer has taken up over half our marriage because quite simply it hasn't. We haven't let it. While it's certainly messed up a lot of things for us, it has also given us way more time together than we would have had otherwise. For that I am immensely grateful.

P.S. since I know you read this, Happy Anniversary Christina!

May 15th, 2016

I'm halfway done with radiation! Only five more days to go. So far so good, with no real side effects to speak of. Heartburn, etc. should start next week sometime. So we'll figure that out when we get to it. For now we've been having fun taking advantage of what NYC has to offer. In the last week we went to our first Yankees game, the World Trade Center memorial, Battery Park, High Line Park, Chelsea Market, Central Park, The Met, and probably other things I can't remember. My sister visited, I met up with a childhood friend I hadn't seen in way too long, and now another friend is visiting for the weekend. It's been a busy, good week, all things considered.

April 25th, 2016

I got three new tattoos today. Three more dots to help line me up precisely for my next round of radiation. They were able to use three old tattoos from my previous radiation in October, so that saved some time in the initial preparations for radiation. Which is how, unexpectedly, I am back in Corning already. We flew in this morning expecting to stay for maybe a few days, until the radiology team at MSKCC could see me for the scan, and tattoo setup appointment. Perhaps, I thought, I'd just stay in NYC for a few weeks, through all of my radiation treatment. I brought a suitcase, backpack, and tote bag full of everything I'd need for an extended stay. But they somehow had an opening in their schedule just an hour after we saw my main radiation doctor! And, just as incredibly, there were two open seats on the flight back that afternoon! The corporate angel flight program has been absolutely wonderful for us, and we are so grateful to have that option for transportation. Other than hauling around a bunch of unnecessary luggage, today went as smoothly as could be reasonably imagined.

Meeting with the head radiology doctor is always encouraging. Her optimism, knowledge, and confidence are certainly reassuring. Interestingly, I was told that they rarely got "this far" until recently, meaning that getting the abdomen clear in cases like mine was, not long ago, very difficult and uncommon. Now, she said, they see many more cases where the abdomen gets cleared of all cancer, but some spots show up in the chest. Everyone seems pretty confident though that, with the surgery to remove the spots in my chest done, and with radiation coming up soon to zap where those nodes were in case anything got left behind, I have a pretty good chance of having my chest all clear. We'll keep working, praying, and hoping for the best, while embracing the reality of this tremendously lethal and tenacious disease. For now, we keep going one day at a time, remembering to make the most of it while we can.

April 18th, 2016

I write this from a room on the pediatric inpatient floor of MSKCC where I await the removal of my chest tube. It's the only thing keeping me from leaving the hospital at this point, but it has to stop draining fluid before they take it out. Makes sense. The amount it has been draining has been "slowing a little bit" for a couple days now. Which I have to say is better than speeding up! It could always be worse, or at least, more complicated. As for the biopsy itself, the procedure went fine and they removed as many possibly suspicious nodes as they could find. The one they sent for a quick test showed tumor activity, but until the full pathology report comes back at the end of the week we won't know much more. Likely, the future plan of action includes radiation to my chest and probably chemo as well. 

All the other aspects of recovery from my biopsy/surgery Thursday have been smooth as can be, and other than a stiffness in my left side which I only notice when I move a lot or am asked about it, I feel completely fine and normal. This is no doubt due, at least in part, to the hydromorphone I am on. A very low dose, but still enough that my brain is often just a little bit foggy, which makes it hard to write or do simple arithmetic with numbers above 20. Christina and I played ticket to ride yesterday, and I was, suffice to say, not quite on top of my game when it came to moving the points marker up and adding the destination ticket points at the end. There's really not much else to say. My mind is too foggy to come up with anything super interesting, but I just wanted to update how it's going. In short, uneventful, which is a lot better than hectic and unexpectedly complicated or busy.

April 13th, 2016

Our Campsite at Joshua Tree

A Joshua Tree

It's well past time to finish up the vacation reflections, and to get back in the habit of posting here weekly. I'll put some pictures here of the trip, but if you want to see more I posted a lot to my Instagram (my username is @MorganBolt_Author). Let's start with Joshua Tree.

A truly unique area, Joshua Tree features an array of cacti, large granite boulders, and of course, Joshua Trees! What is perhaps most interesting about the Joshua Trees themselves is that they are closely related to yucca plants, and in fact start out looking much the same as a typical yucca, until they grow tall enough to split and branch off. We enjoyed the best campsite of our entire vacation there, and were able to hike a good bit on some of the dirt roads, as you can take dogs there. It was great to enjoy the relative solitude the park afforded. Overall a quiet, beautiful, and utterly unique place.

We stopped for a night in Las Vegas, only because the campsite where we planned on staying in the nearby mountains was completely full. On the whole it seemed rather small, though I guess I might be comparing it to New York City, which isn’t entirely fair. It also seemed to be, like any place, populated with entirely normal people living exceptionally normal lives; a good reminder that, no matter where people live, they’re all merely people.

Death Valley

Next came the heat and shockingly large crowds of Death Valley. The wildflowers had begun to decline since their peak a few days before we made it there, but there were still plenty of flowers around. Without them, I can only imagine how truly desolate the place must be. It got prettier—and the heat subsided—as the sun set, which helped. During the heat of the afternoon though it was easy to see how the park earned its name. It's the sort of place I am glad to have visited, but do not particularly need to visit again.

Sequoia

Sequoia, my new favorite national park, was our next stop, and I could go on and on about it, but I’ll resist that temptation. It rained the evening we arrived, which meant it snowed higher up (where the sequoias grow). We were grateful to have all-wheel drive, which meant they didn’t require us to have chains to travel the winding mountain road up to the sequoia groves. The pictures I took speak for themselves, so I won’t ramble about the impressive, almost unbelievable size of the trees, or the splendid palette of white, red, and green that the snow and sequoias teamed up to create. We enjoyed a wonderful ranger-led snowshoe tour, and had a splendid time exploring the forests and meadows there. Needless to say this is one park we hope to visit again.

Mother and Baby Sea Otter

San Francisco was our next stop, and there we picked up Christina’s sister who flew out to meet us on her spring break from teaching. We got Chinese food (I’m not sure what exactly, but it tasted amazing!) and ate with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. We made sure to drive Lombard Street too. Then we left to drive down the coast, stopping at the incredible Monterrey Bay Aquarium, where we saw sea lions and sea otters, including a mother and her pup. In the wild, from the observation deck at the aquarium! They had sea otters in the aquarium too, which are used as foster mothers for orphan pups, but seeing them in the wild was truly extraordinary. The wildlife viewing there alone is enough of a draw, even without the wonderful aquarium inside.

Elephant Seals

As we drove along the coastal highway, we kept an eye out for whales, as gray whales were supposed to be migrating north along the coast. Sure enough, not long after we started to look for them, I spotted a whale spout a few hundred feet out in the water. As we were perched well above the water on the edge of the mountains, we had a pretty good view, and throughout the day saw several mother and calf grey whales as well as a small pod of humpbacks, a couple dolphins, more sea otters, and a beach full of northern elephant seals. The spectacular scenery and abundance of wildlife were definitely a highlight of the trip, and the Big Sur area ranks among the neatest places I’ve been.

San Antonio

A couple stops at Six Flags parks along the way back (outside LA and in San Antonio) brought us to New Orleans, where we stopped briefly for beignets at Café du Monde, and finally on to Tallahassee, where we visited Christina’s parents briefly for Easter. Then a final long day of driving brought us back to Corning. In all, I drove over 9,000 miles, each one filled with memories we will cherish forever.

Faced with less-than ideal scan results, we decided to spend make an adventure out of last weekend, and went skiing and snowboarding (I do both) at Jay Peak in Vermont and Whiteface Mountain in the Adirondacks (New York). Both are mountains I have wanted to visit since I first heard of them, and they did not disappoint.

As I write this, I’m sitting in the Ronald McDonald House in New York, and will have surgery tomorrow to remove/biopsy some suspicious spots in my chest. We have no idea what the results of that surgery will be, or what comes next. It could be a week before we get the results and have an idea what comes next. For us, the unknown and uncertain nature of the future cannot be ignored. The only thing to do is really the only thing any of us can do in light of our mortality; live life to the fullest while we can, and not worry too much about tomorrow.

Open Letter to Donald Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

I love you. I find those words—to my shame—difficult to say to you. Yet they are perhaps the most important statement I can make to you. As one who strives to follow the teaching and example of Jesus, loving others comes, for me, second only to loving God. So, I love you, and I pray for you. As a human being who bears the image of God, you deserve my love and respect for your humanity. That said, I cannot sit idly by while every day you move a little closer to possibly leading perhaps the most influential country on this planet.

Nor will I rant here about the troubling rhetoric you have used on the campaign trail. Enough animosity has already spewed forth from all sides with regards to your comments, and it saddens me as much to see people say loathsome things about you and your followers as it does to see you and your supporters espouse animosity towards others. Looking at your campaign—and, sadly, at many who react against you—I see a glut of hatred, insecurity, fear, and ignorance. Such qualities define the conversation around you. Hatred laces your words, and comes flying back at you from all sides in a vicious cycle, leaving no room for grace or constructive dialogue. Enough is enough.

While I find your ideas repellent, and while the sexist, racist, xenophobic, and generally abhorrent language you have used offends me deeply, I will as best I can resist the temptation to stoop to the depths of hatred where most conversations about you lurk. Instead, I want only to share with you a simple example provided by your home town, New York City. I have seen the best of humanity this last year as I slogged through grueling cancer treatment at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. I ask that, next time you find yourself in NYC, you go to the pediatric ward at MSKCC, where I spent much of the past year.

There you will find families from across the globe whose dress, language, and religion brings a wondrous bouquet of diversity to a tremendously bleak situation. All of the families you will find there stand united in a single desire; to have their children happy and healthy again. If you forget, as it seems you may have, that we are all simply people, all of us very much the same where it really matters, then please, go back to your home town, and remember that this country, and all of humanity, is made stronger by diversity. I pray that you come to see with horror that the discord you have stirred up on the campaign trail stands in stark contrast to the peace and unity of humanity at its best. Please remember, if ever you once knew, the most important lesson a place like New York City can teach.

All the best,

 - Morgan Bolt

March 29th, 2016

After a long delay, I'm going to start journaling our road trip of the past month! I plan to split it all into a handful of entries over the next week or two, since we went a lot of places and this would become a very long blog post if I were to catalog all our travels in one go.Since the last update, when we were in Lincoln, NE, we stopped in...

Amarillo, Texas. We decided not to go to the tourist trap that is the restaurant serving 72oz steaks. I only really mention Amarillo because it is in Texas, and it helps illustrate how ridiculously large Texas is, and how often we went back and forth between New Mexico and Texas. Also, we had Texas-shaped waffles there.

Texas-Shaped Waffles

Carlsbad Caverns National Park (New Mexico). A truly impressive cavern, and by far the biggest either of us has ever seen. The elevator was out of order, so we made the pleasant hike down to the main chamber, which is richly decorated with every imaginable variety of cave formation. We had the entire campsite to ourselves and enjoyed spectacular sunsets over the Guadalupe Mountains from a short hike out of our campsite. On the whole a very relaxed, quiet time, without many other people around.

The Entrance to the Cave

Chandelier Formation, Carlsbad Caverns

Guadalupe Mountains National Park (Texas again). We just waved at it as we drove past/through, and didn’t bother to stop for a picture with the sign. It made for a beautiful drive though!

White Sands National Monument (New Mexico again). A unique spot, with white gypsum salt sand dunes in a valley surrounded by mountains, some tipped with recent spring snows. The sand is surprisingly cool to the touch, and we hiked barefoot, as that apparently is one of the things to do there. Sledding is the other, but we passed on that. This was, if I remember rightly, the first truly hot day of our trip.

White Sands, New Mexico

El Paso, Texas (again). We enjoyed the absolute best Mexican food we have ever been privileged to encounter ever here, at a place called Maribu’s. We love border states/towns.

Rock Hound State Park (New Mexico, again!) A wonderfully friendly campground host who found a space for us in an already-overfilled campground started off our time here on the right note, and the brilliant night sky and surprisingly pretty lights of the small town on the plains below kept the pleasant feel going. We enjoyed nothing but positive experiences with camp ground hosts this vacation, and serving as campground hosts is now our current retirement plan. In the morning we hunted for interesting rocks and kept a few, since you’re allowed/encouraged to.

Pheonix, Arizona (and Tucson, Sedona, Flagstaff, Jerome, and Prescott, AZ as well). After stopping briefly at Saguaro National Park in Tucson, a surprisingly lush piece of desert, we visited my brother Erik and his girlfriend Dalyss, spending time at a rodeo (surprisingly interesting) and hiking on “South Mountain” (there’s a South Mountain by Messiah College too, and probably several other places). We then headed up to the Sedona area, where the landscape transforms dramatically from the heat and desert of Pheonix. Sedona lies surrounded by spectacular red rock cliffs and buttes, forested with pine. Further north, we ate supper in Flagstaff, which felt to me a lot like a Colorado Ski town, which it basically is. Snowy mountains, people with skis strapped to their car roofs, and great places to walk around and eat. We also visited some long-abandoned pueblo sites, called Montezuma's Castle and Montezuma's Well (apparently the Spanish conquistadors, whose place names we use today, thought Montezuma was pretty important). Having only been to far Northern Arizona (think Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest), we really enjoyed getting to see pretty much the whole entire rest of the state!

Saguaro National Park

Sedona

Montezuma's Castle

I'll pick up with Joshua Tree next time!

March 27th, 2016

Happy Easter!


Sorry for the huge delay in posting here. I have not had the internet/time/time while I have internet to update blog posts. We'll be back in Corning Tuesday, and I'll post a couple long updates along with pictures of our travels the last month.

Again, Happy Easter!

February 27th, 2016

This post comes to you from Lincoln Nebraska, where I'm sitting on a porch swing enjoying the 70 degree weather. We left early on Wednesday the 24th and drove into eastern Indiana, where a snow storm prompted us to stop for the night. Luckily our hotel was a mile down the road from a Culver's so I got a butterburger, cheese curds, and a concrete mixer (for those who don't know, a delicious concoction of frozen custard with things like Reese's peanut butter cups mixed in for added fat content and a more delicious flavor). I love midwestern food.

Thursday we drove to Lincoln. I guess I should technically say I drove, because I love driving and don't let anyone else drive if I can help it. I'm really enjoying being on a road trip. It's interesting to see just how many more birds of prey there are once you're across the Mississippi River. As someone who pays attention to such things, It's a pretty noticeable difference. Driving in Iowa or Nebraska, you can't go five minutes without seeing an american kestrel, red-tailed hawk, or bald eagle. It's also impressive to experience just how much space exists out here. Every time I've been out west, the vastness of it all helps keep everything in perspective. It also stands in stark contrast to the cramped confines of New York City. The dog park we went to here in Lincoln was probably ten acres and felt more like a repurposed cow pasture than anything else. It could easily have been two or three different parks in NYC.

Friday night we met up with a handful of relatives--grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, etcetera. Korynne's recital was far more than just an excuse for us all to get together though. Seeing her play was a real treat, and her talents and abilities are genuinely impressive. Today we all made the most of the beautiful weather, and after trying in vain to tour the inexplicably closed Capitol Building (which I suspect inspired the architecture for Naboo [a planet in Star Wars]), we enjoyed a lovely day spent touring the University of Nebraska campus and relaxing at a couple of parks.

Tomorrow begins our tour of national parks in the Southwest, starting with Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, a park that will be new for both of us. We're really looking forward to it, and we both are so grateful for the chance we have to go on this vacation.

February 21st, 2016

My wife and I are heading off on a road trip Wednesday, so the normal schedule of Sunday evening blog posts will be thrown off a bit, though I do hope to still post often, if not regularly. I also suspect the next few weeks of blog posts will read more like a travel log than anything else, but since we're planning on going places like Carlsbad Caverns, Saguaro, Joshua Tree, Death Valley (I hear it's a wildflower year!), and other national parks, it should still be interesting, I hope.

Should the scans in a month or so find nothing of interest, this will just be the first of many road trips to national parks in the coming months and years. Should we get less-than satisfactory results, we'll both be immensely grateful for the chance to have spent a month driving to and camping at different amazing places in the southwestern U.S. Hopefully someday soon we'll get to plan for longer intervals than six short weeks at a time, but for now it's plenty, and we're going to make the most of every day we have.

February 14th, 2016

Last Thursday I had the long-awaited scans that we hoped would show I have No Evidence of Disease (NED). I'm completely comfortable with that kind of language. No Evidence of Disease is a much more realistic phrase than pretty much anything with the word "cured" in it. At best, all anyone will ever be able to conclusively say is that currently I show no signs of cancer. With tricky, aggressive cancers like DSRCT, you really never know for sure that it's gone forever. You can only know for sure that it is there. It's kinda like aliens. We'll only be able to prove they exist when we run into them, but the fact that we haven't found them yet just means we haven't looked in the right place at the right time. OK, not a perfect example, but you get the basic idea.

That's all fine with me. I understand that a declaration of NED wouldn't be a guarantee of health. It would mean that I'd be able to go 3 months between scans though, and that I could start living life three months at a time, and dare to plan for the future, at least a little bit. So you see why I was hoping for NED results from my scans. I also remembered well that it was entirely possible the results would definitively show that the cancer had returned. It's happened to too many people we've gotten to know this last year of treatment. So my wife and I hoped for the best, remembered the possibility of the worst, and really just didn't think about it much, choosing instead to enjoy the time we had, rather than agonize over upcoming results. We were prepared for a clear answer either way; NED, or new tumor activity. We weren't expecting another vague scan result, warranting another follow-up scan in 6 short weeks.

Previously, my scans showed mysterious fluid in my abdomen, which they drained, and two identical spots on my lungs, likely inflammation. Thursday's scan showed no fluid (yay!), and the spots on my lungs were gone (yay again!). But there is a new spot that looks the same as the old spots (meh?). Hopefully it's just a bit of inflammation. That's what the other two, which looked the same, were. But we'll see in six weeks. For now, we make do with what we have. It's half the time we were hoping for before the next potentially life-altering scans, but it'll do. We're amending our planned "Grand Road Trip of Pretty Much Every National Park in the U.S. and Canada," making it more realistic for our shortened schedule. That and the fact that we're doing it in March, when the Rockies are still buried in snow. After we travel, it's scan time again. Maybe that scan at the end of March will finally give us the results we're hoping for. Or maybe it'll be another vague result, or a definitively bleak one. We'll see. The point is that my life makes obvious what is true for us all; none of us knows the future, and we could die at any time. There's no point whining about it. The best any of us can really do is not squander the time we have, and appreciate every minute for what it's worth.