A second dispatch of not-so-good news

Okay so I'm trying to stay positive here.

I just talked to my physician's assistant and it looks like I have two--that's right two--new growths situated right in the middle of my most valuable organ that I have plaguing me right now. Part of me thinks that I should just be thankful for the last two years of wondrous freedom that I just won; I didn't have to worry about what was happening, that much, nor did I have many check ups and MRIs, but for some odd damn reason I don't. I don't really care that I had two years where I had to worry slightly less than before when my mind was reeling from the vast amounts of intracranial pressure that was about to make my noggin explode nor was I so concerned with reveling in the joy of a non-tumor-based lifestyle.

No, I was concerned only with getting back on my feet. I felt like I'd been abducted by aliens, and made to do thoroughly dehumanizing tactics, and then placed gently back in my house where I awoke and felt like an entirely new implementation of what I once was.

Okay so to bring this back to the more constructive side of life (on which I prefer to keep my thoughts). I've decided to take the cocktail-based approached to treating this thing. I'm also going to be considering some vaccine and immuno-therapy clinical trials as well. There are more targeted treatments out there now than there were back during my first occurrence, so I hope that I can find the right one (or two), and kill this damn beast who keeps invading my brain!