OK OK this time it's for real

So I know I've claimed that I'm moving back to Philly, but this time I think I may actually mean it (provided that I can find a job). The problem is that I can't find work anywhere down in Atlanta (or anywhere else for that matter). I know the economy's seen better days but is it really that bad right now?

On top of that I'm so absurdly bored that I don't even have the desire to do anything anymore. I think my boredom is sucking the life out of me. All I want to do is sit around and watch crappy action movies. I really hope this isn't symbolic of what my 30's are going to be like...


I've got another MRI appt on April 25th, so after that I'll be heading up to Philly. Alright folks, get ready for a whole lot of me.

Summing up all my manliness for this one

This took a large pair of cajones to write guys because I don't really think that I wanted to admit it to myself. But I think that I may kind of be scared to get back into the real world (sometimes I feel like I am in the real world but I'm hesitant to go back to the fake one). After searching through all of these places that I could make a new home, the same fear still plagues me.


What makes me afraid, you may be asking yourself, to go back to the real world? I'm still working through this, but I think that at least part of the answer is that I'm afraid to get comfortable somewhere that I may have to rip myself out of again if (and maybe when) this tumor begins it's next ascent on my life. Can I not be comfortable anywhere then? I don't know the answer to that one.


I think that part of the problem (which I already know) is that I'm too comfortable here. I can work on music, watch TV, and read books all at my leisure (I can't find a damn job, ok!). I had trouble doing all of these in my old life (I didn't watch televised TV though, nor did I really want to). I think the problem is that I feel comfortable enough now to do those things here, and I may not feel that comfortable wherever I move. Sure, there'll be some hectic moving in nonsense to deal with, but I want to be this comfortable wherever I move. I wasn't ever this comfortable before, and I don't want to give it up.

So I'm stuck: I can't let myself get comfortable again due to possibly having to be ripped out, but at the same time, I want to be as comfortable as I am now. I don't know what to do. 


I've also realized that I can't move back into the life I had before. I'm not a 22 year-old going back to Philly. I'm going to be 30 next month, and I've decided that it's now or never when it comes to growing up (I was not an adult at 22 and this little project may not work out). I've just decided that I'm too old to be moving back to a bar job (that I'm not even on the books at) that I've barely held on to for the last 2-plus years and for a band that I haven't played with much for 2-plus years.


If I end up moving back to Philly (which actually looks like the biggest possibility right now), I'll have to start everything over again. So I may move close to Drexel in West Philly if I decide to do that. If this happens, I'm of course, really excited to start playing again with Cloud Minder, I just don't think I can move back to Philly only because of an old band. I'm old enough to expect a little bit more from my life.

What the hell am I doing?

I have no idea what's going on. I don't know where to live or what to do. I realized this last night when I should've been sleeping (i.e. the only time I have deep meaningful thoughts). Ugh... 

Anyway, I don't think I'm going to be moving back up to Philly...not right now at least. I don't know enough to say much more. It's far too cold for me to be up there huddled in front of a heater with not much else going on. I need to be busy to live up in a frigid situation like that. I hate to say it, but I'm going to be living down here for a little while.

I am looking forward to my trip to San Diego and my road trip as well. Beyond that I don't know.

Write more when I know it. 

That makes two clean MRIs

Since I've been up in Philly during my move-in-two-parts, I've had tons of trouble finding someone to take me to my appointment with Dr. Q today. It would've helped had I found someone that would take me down one month before hand, but being the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy I am (Actually, I felt kind of bad because whoever would give me a ride would also be giving up a whole day) and after harassing several people to give me a ride, I finally forced Cassie into it (actually she very willingly gave up her much needed shift today).

Laughing our way down to Baltimore (which was just what I needed, it kept my mind from wandering to the massively disconcerting problems that potentially lay in my immediate future), we made good time (largely because of Cassie's persistent tongue-lashings due to my unsatisfactory driving speed). Cassie's a doll though. We had a good time, and during the nerve-wracking wait for my appointment, she was there for me. I really appreciate that Cassie.

I'm excited to be moving back into the real world, but that doesn't quite remove some of the strangeness that creeps over me now and again that I've felt since being back in the real (or maybe a better word is new) world. It's almost like I don't quite deserve it (hmmm...that's not quite it though). Maybe...how can I deserve to go back to a fairly normal existence when some of my friends have died and others have been ripped out of their lives never to return to what they once knew. I may be (or probably am) over-thinking this, but here I am, after this unbelievably life-changing experience, able to step back into my old life while also being given the gift of a second chance, a second chance to do things right or, at least, to do them with my feet actually on the ground rather than floating somewhere above. I'm moving back up here for better or worse (hopefully for the better), and I'm getting back to where I was before my world crumbled.

This is also my 100th post. I don't know if that's something to celebrate or not...   

1/1/11: Good bye to yet another year I've completely washed my hands of

2011. I'm finally able to start a year off with the right foot rather than the badly mangled stump of one that I've started the year off with lately. It feels good to NOT be fearing for my life for once in what seems like a vast wasteland of an eternity (I'm chuckling right now because, for some reason, the first Planet of the Apes just came to mind). I still have to make an appointment with Dr. Q on the 10th, but I'm not having any of the dreaded telltale symptoms that something new is festering inside my skull for which I'm ultimately thankful.

Everything's not as nice and neat as it seems though. Brewing under my (seemingly) content exterior, something's gurgling within me that's more unsettling than not. It's something that I never really expected to happen to me. So the problem is that I'm having trouble being a part of everyone's happy, careless (not really careless just seemingly so), and carefree lives. For example at my first shift back at the taproom the other night, it started off being good to see everyone, but then everyone started dancing around having a great time one girl even danced on the bar, and though it was good to watch these people having such a good time, I thought to myself that it had been such a long time since I'd been able to let loose and just freak out for a little bit like everyone there that I began to wonder if I could even do that again. 

It was so weird. Such an unexpected and altogether alienating experience, that it almost took my breath away. I almost didn't feel like I was myself anymore. I was living the life of my twin--alike in appearance and recognized as such--but I'm simply not the person I used to be. Now I'm left wondering what the hell I can do, even who I am now. 

I'm hoping this is just a phase that I'm going through in this real world re-entering period and that it'll end just as quickly as it began, but right now nothing's for sure. I feel like I'm walking around upside down. Strange...             

I'm Free!

I'm done.

Now I can actually move on to all the things that I've been putting off for the past 3 months: book prep, actually making music (instead of longing to play my equipment in my room that's just gathering dust), devoting time to not studying anything at all...ever, not reading things that're about systemic bodily processes or the nature of how microscopic parts of our universe interact with each other. I'm OK with this.

In some way (whatever way it is, it's obviously magical), I actually got an A and B; which is crazy because by the end of the quarter, I thought I'd definitely be getting a C in Chemistry, but somehow (which I won't go into for the sake of remaining on the positive side of the spectrum), I got a B. Hmmm, well I guess that's what you get for studying your ass off for an entire quarter (because I literally had nothing else to do). At least last quarter, I had the Cloud Minder album to mix. This one really dragged it's dull weight across the boring sands of time in the last three months...but now, suddenly, it's over.

The move back up to Philly's both exciting and I think its begun its slow descent over the edge of nerve-wracking. I guess I'm getting back into it the the same way I moved up there. I didn't really know much of anything that was going on before nor do I have any idea what to expect now (other than a show and a doctor's appointment, but I also need a haircut...badly). I guess that's just how my life goes I guess.  

Just another part of my honesty phase (I know...it's getting old)

I've been depressed for a long time. Wait...no...I was depressed for a long time. I hated school in High School. The socialness of it, the cliquiness, the snottiness--hated it (I did have some good friends though). Then I went to college and lived with Matt my swimming buddy in good ol' Russel Hall at UGA, but alas, I couldn't stand that either. Looking back on it now (and after reading up on depression for the last few years), I've realized how terribly negative I was in my youth. I was negative about the world but especially about myself. It seemed like I couldn't get anything right. I got through the depression over time (all it took was a diagnosis of Brain Cancer and a forced positive attitude...just those two small things).

Eventually, I graduated from college and decided that I needed to see a place that exemplified what I'd been studying in college (Anthropology and Religion). Thailand and other parts of Southeast Asia had just gotten wiped out by a major tidal wave (Dec. 2004), so I decided to go to Thailand for 6 weeks. After I returned (a bit thin and distraught), I moved up to Philly (not knowing a thing about the city) for grad school (but really to play in a band. Grad school was just what I decided to tell the 'accomplished' folks who asked). Unfortunately, four years later I was just depressed as ever. Nothing had changed.


What happened was that during college I hid it more and more from my friends, but more importantly, I was hiding it from myself. I knew it back in 7th and 8th grade but over time it seemed like it slowly faded from existence itself. Looking back on it later on, I rationalized it that it was just a perfect example of the terror and horror of growing up in East Cobb. I was wrong though.

In the last two years (since I've been diagnosed), I slowly began to wake up to my state of mind. You see I had to think positively. There was absolutely no other way around it. Eventually thinking positively actually took hold of me; that's when I really began to notice what had become of my old state of mind. 

What initially began to wake me up was an article that I read about depression. Essentially the article says that clinically depressed people don't express any of their ideas for what they want to accomplish in their lives because they don't enjoy anything. Apparently enjoyment precedes the discovery of what a person is good at and the desire to do something with one's life. If you don't enjoy anything, you can't possibly know what you're good at. The article goes on to say that depression causes the victim to lose a sense of what being happy even is. Clinically depressed people eventually forget what happiness feels like; they lose the sense of its meaning. After reading this, I began to wonder if maybe that's why I tried all those different hobbies and jobs. I just didn't have any sense of what I wanted to do with my life. To this day, I still notice myself wondering if people are walking around 'happy' or 'satisfied' or if they're just walking around as miserable as I was.

Now I know what being happy and satisfied actually is--it just took a brain tumor and a positive attitude, that's all. Now I know you're wondering why I'm going into this this extended diatribe about my depression (wah wah, I know). It's because now I have an excuse for going back to Philly (besides the fact that I have tons of great friends up there and a band to boot). This may sound cheesy, but I mean to start Philly over again, to start living over again. 

Thanks for reading.         

After six months...I can drive!

This is me contentedly hugging my new car. I got my license back yesterday, and drove around all night (actually just to two coffee shops and Walgreens), but nonetheless, the world seems so big now. I can go to Athens whenever I want, or I can go down to Atlanta whenever I feel that it's necessary--on a whim, if you will. The best part is that I don't have to wait two hours to get anywhere AND I don't have to wait for people to pick me up. I can come and go as I please. Ahhhh...

Honestly, I didn't let myself get depressed about this whole ordeal (an effect of my 'positive' attitude I guess), but let me tell you something: not being able to drive in metro Atlanta is not for the weak of heart. I could've very easily lost my mind and watched clowns jumping around in my mind but thanks to my 'positivity' (I put it in quotes because I'm not entirely convinced of its existence), I managed to keep my mind focused on more beneficial items. Here's to driving!

Thanksgiving and half-way to the end

This is how I spent my Thanksgiving: My family and I met with my sister's boyfriend Matt and his family at at her house for the Great Thanksgiving Meal. Now I realize that you're probably wondering why I capitalized the previous words. This is because, for the thirteen of us populating our group, we had two disproportionately large turkeys, one hock of ham, and several slices of chicken, not to mention all the dishes of fancy we had to accompany our wonderful meal. By the end, I was wondering when the next table of 13 would be coming in to finish off the meal (that we could tag-team wrestling style, of course). Unfortunately for me though, I was on chemo, and my hunger was somehow below zero (which means I didn't want the food in me, aka, I wanted to vomit). Unfortunately for me (or possibly fortunately depending on your perspective on the issue), I didn't get to eat all that much. It was a nice Thanksgiving though. I'll give it that much.  

Which brings us to my second point, as of right now I'm halfway through the chemo portion of this happy little venture (which I will not look back on with anything resembling a smile in any way). My red and white blood cell levels are slowly descending so there's a chance that I may have to have some other treatment sooner or later, but that's neither here nor there.

So I booked a flight to start the move back up to Philly.  Hopefully, I'll hear good news that I may (or hopefully will) receive at my doctor's appointment on Jan. 10th. Then I'm flying back here on January 12th to go to Kev Toland's wedding in San Diego, so I somehow got sucked into a road trip involving 4 friends, 2 dogs, and 1 car (I'm actually really glad. It'll be tons of fun and exactly what I need after all the craziness of the last couple years). 

This whole deal still seems unreal to me, though. I haven't worked more than a few hours a week this year (I wonder if my back will get tired from standing all day like it used to when I first started working in the service industry back in High School.) I don't know if I signed up for starting life up again like I'm back in high school. Not that I didn't have some good times back then, but I'd hate to be in that angsty phase again. I'm glad those years are behind me...far behind.

All Clear!

I just got news today that my MRI results came back clean as a whistle. I am so relieved. Just in case you find yourself involved in an argument with someone trying to convince you that getting up at 5am and fidgeting like a child is worthwhile is, in fact, lying straight to your face (in case you were wondering). Now I just get to relax in Philly with my friends until Saturday evening. It's strange, having nothing to do is kind of...uncomfortable (and for some reason, I really don't feel like writing right now).

Just wanted to let everyone know I was so happy earlier that I gave my doctor a big ol' bear hug!  

I've finished one-quarter of this (ridiculous) race

Phew! I'm glad that's over.

I just finished month 3 of the looonnggg 12 round chemo program that I'm on. This round was fairly tough too. No different in terms of quantity of the drug, but I don't actually remember much from the last week (I struck an unlucky note and won a test and a speech that I had to be studying for the whole time). For some reason, this time felt significantly more trying than the last time. Maybe it's because I knew what was coming, and, like the train traveling down the tracks to my end--I could see it coming.

That being said I feel better now; not totally back to normal, but certainly better than I was feeling. For a little while, I didn't feel any desire to talk to anyone, I didn't want to leave...ever, or do anything. I was sick and exhausted. Not so tired that I wanted to sleep all day. No...I couldn't sleep at all actually. I'd just lay there and hurt all over. 

I'm complaining because it's terrible compared to normal life, but in the world of Chemotherapy, it's nothing. I can do it in my own house and feel like crap on my own terms. Everyone else with cancer has to go somewhere to have these toxins pumped through their veins...it's terrible. They get poisons pumped into their bodies and then they have to feel themselves start feeling terrible in public. Fortunately for me, I don't have to do this, but I just felt like expressing all the crap that I go through when I have these episodes. 

Essentially, I think this is the way my life's going to work for the rest of my chemo program. At the beginning of every month, I'll fall off the planet for a week. Then I'll reappear as if nothing ever happened. Strange, isn't it?   

Month two goes down, down the drain

Here I am writing at the computer just having finished month two of my twelve month stint and I feel tired...

I wrote that just after I finished doing chemo last week, and I was tired. So tired that I couldn't finish writing this blog. In fact I was so astonishingly tired because I actually threw up after I worked out too hard. I know what you're thinking, "Wow, this guy can sure take some crap." Well the truth is that, without a doubt, I certainly cannot; I wan't even taking the chemo that day. It had been two days since I was on the chemo. I said, "OK today I can workout. I'll be fine. What could go wrong?" All I remember is throwing up on the plants outside.

...I'm actually not that concerned about it, actually. At the time I had low level nausea for the last two days of the 5 day chemo cycle and then the first 3 days afterward. That's why I have the anti-nausea wristband that I'm amazed at in the picture above. Actually I don't if I'm amazed or more amidst a taadaah-moment.

Well I'm very happy to share that I have hair growing in. It's not blonde or frizzy (though it'd be funny if it was like that...but only for a minute). I have a massive gash crossing my forehead above my left eye all the way over to my left temple. Quite impressive, I have to admit. I guess I'll always stand out in crowd now if I'm not wearing a hat.

So my current thoughts about the future are kind of ever evolving, but what I'm thinking at the moment is that I really miss playing in Cloud Minder. That being said, I want to try to get back up to Philly, but i also need to continue doing something with my time, i.e. mri technology, i.e learning it, so I'll have to apply to some schools up there. I'll keep you posted on the goings on in this realm.      

4th of July in Philly and weddings galore!

So I'm spending my 4th of July up in Philly mainly for Jay's (the other Cloud Minder guitarist) wedding. It was superb. Although on a side note, I did accidentally kind of miss the actual wedding...oops. You see there was an a-hole of a foreign driver that I couldn't even understand over his complaints the whole drive. He doesn't know where we're going, and I'm trying to find the place, but this guy won't shut his yapper for the fifteen minute drive that was ahead of us (it actually turned into a longer drive as his complaining got us lost). Needless to say, this guy was a jerk. I got so tired of listening to his complaining that, after his requested tip of 6, 7 or 10 bucks I gave $8. I couldn't handle his whining anymore. Oh and I wasn't even there yet. I still had to walk to get there. Jerk.

The wedding was fantastic though. It was small only about 50 folks at a wonderful house called Appleford out amidst the beauty of Lower Merion twp. After the wedding, I got there and super hydrated myself (I was mighty thirsty after walking as far as I did.) It meant quite a bit to Jay that I was there, so I'm glad that I went. I'm going to include a picture just because that's what I do.

By the way, this picture sums up the beauty of where I was (it actually doesn't at all. It was just one of the few shots of the grounds that actually turned out from my camera that needs a serious menu reset.)

Tired, I'm really tired

Well one thing this seven day chemo extravaganza turned up is that I'm tired. I'm absolutely, totally exhausted. I'd be sick many nights, but thanks to the anti-nausea pills the nausea didn't really take a toll on me. But the last two days I was on that fantastic little poison pill, i started feeling exhausted from the moment I opened my eyes. I wanted to go back to sleepyland. Unfortunately-for some unknown reason-i couldn't. It's not like I didn't want to go visit sleepyland, I just think I have a low red blood cell count. So it's not like I'm tired, essentially I just can't get enough oxygen in my body to feel more energetic.

Ok I think I'm going to go lay in my bed now and drift off to that strange land between sleep and wakefulness. That's all I really want to do right now.  

One day down, 364 more to go...

Well I've discovered today that starting chemo makes my lack of driving ability seem less frustrating as I'm tired (even when i wake up from a nap). This isn't nearly as bad as I feared, so it's a good thing...? Hopefully my tiredness will lend itself to higher energy levels in the days and weeks ahead, but as for right now, I have no desire to do anything. My mom, my niece and I are heading over to Borders to stand around and look at books, and I find myself seriously questioning whether or not I can actually do this. 

So I think I need to back up first for a minute and explain some things. I've convinced my oncologist to put me on a dose-sense plan of Temodar. It would seem (according to an informant who is a long-term survivor of Glioblastoma (GBM) that people with negative values on their MGMT tests (done to test the effectiveness of Temodar at Mass. General) actually seem to respond better to Temodar when on this plan. So my plan goes as such: I take 250 mg/day for 7 days then I take 7 days off, repeat. So this schedule will have me on a smaller dose for more days/month. Instead of being on a 5 days of 28 schedule I'm on 7 and off 7. 

Well now that I look back, I'm sure I could've stated all this info much more concisely (and probably much less boringly).

So I think in the coming months ahead, it remains truly important that I'm not totally out of it for half the month every month (especially when I'm in school). Though I'm sure that many people have been through much worse, it's still not a very pleasing thought.

Seizures: can they cause anything good?

So...I'm stuck in the Atlanta suburbs with no way to drive. It's just me and my bike avoiding terrible traffic, trying desperately to get around. I wish, I really wish that I never would've had those seizures...life really bites right now. I can't get around. I have to wait for my friends to pick me up, or even worse, my parents have to give me a ride. "Hey there twenty-nine year old wanna feel like you're back in high school again? Well here you go. That's just too bad." Ugh. 

So I'm starting to go crazy. I have to get out, get around or do something to feel my age. I'm taking classes at a Tech School, and although it's good that I'm doing it, it's still something that people much younger than I do. AHHHHH! I just need to let off some steam, but I have no idea how, when or where (or maybe why???).


I think this is actually worse than all the cancer crap that I've been through. Is that possible?

Philly: A seizure-filled experience

Well I was supposed to have a good time in Philly, but instead it turned into a terrible trip full of seizures. Well there were just two (I think that would count as two to many though). On my side, I had gotten off my anticonvulsant drug Keppra about three weeks (I think?) prior to flying up there. On the other side of things though, I did kind of ask for it by losing the Keppra, but (going back to the other side of things) I didn't have a seizure for upwards of three months. Can you expect anything less?

So we didn't play our show. The guys in the band thought that it was a bad idea to play a show the day after a seizure. With it put that way, I guess I see where they were coming from. The unfortunate side of it though, is that I didn't get to play a show...wah wah, I know.

Fortunately for me, I'm back on Keppra now, and (though it's only been a week), I haven't had another seizure. The sad part of this whole story is that at this point in time I'm terribly afraid that I'm going to have another one; so afraid that I don't know if I'm actually feeling a seizure coming on or if it's just the fear that provokes the feeling. Like I said, this is the unfortunate side of it: are the seizures entirely psychosomatic or are they a real event occurring at this point in my ever so eventful life? There's no way for me to know the answer to this question right now, so like all else that's important in my life, only time will tell. If I don't actually end up having another seizure in a few months...then I'm in the clear. 

Oh yes and due to this whole seizure epidemic I can't drive right now, so now I'm stuck here in Cobb County with no car. Needless to say, I bought another bike...and the bus system's next on my list. Cobb Community Transit look out!

Oh, I can't remember if I've posted a picture with all of my hair gone, but here it is!

   

I'm Done!

The 6 weeks (well 7 actually) that I had to spend going down to that wondrous radiation clinic every Monday through Friday are over. As well as the 7 weeks that I had to spend taking chemotherapy every night are over. In other words, It's done. (Take that radiation oncology!)

Well actually it's just over for a few weeks. Then I'll do the lonely trot (aka the incredible hulk series) meandering down the chemotherapy highway in my attempt to elude the agents of cancer, (but who are really asking for it by messing with the aforementioned incredible hulk). But at least i can just be chemo-boy and not radio-chemo-boy. Hopefully the next year will go by as quickly as the last 7 weeks have. Though somehow, I suspect that that's not physically possible. According to physics a year is always and in all places longer than 7 weeks. It just is.

I have a couple weeks to heal (please die cancer), so in the meantime, I'll be heading up to Philly. So all you Philly folks better get ready for some ultra concentrated Daveyness.

Oh We're also playing a show up there on Tuesday the 1st. Don't know where, how or with whom yet, but for the first time in over one and a half years, we're playing out. Nice. Hmmm wait...I play guitar right?

Six days and a little less hair remain...

I seem to be losing more hair everyday. Today my head started peeling, BUT I no longer have the rapid headaches when I lower my head down closer to my heart. I'm so glad that I won't be dealing with those anymore; I was starting to worry.

I do have a pretty killer mohawk right now. I guess it'll be a nice thing to have during the months of waiting for my hair to start growing back. I may have to shave it off though. I don't know if I can have it for three straight months. Let's see...I've got two nasty looking scars and a mohawk. That's fairly intimidating.

SO...

I'm starting to think thoughts of next steps. Any suggestions? I could move back up to Philly, get a house close by and start a little studio in an extra room and get back into teaching (I guess kind of try to pick up where I left off) 
or
I could stay down here in Atlanta for a little while and take an RT class at Chattahoochee Tech. I'd be living here for free at Ben's (my brother) house and working for my sister, but I don't know if I'd be happy with this...

I need help. Thoughts???    

A new haircut and Jasmine's birthday hat

It was tough, but today...I did it. I shaved it. My hair's almost gone for the first time since High School. It kind of feels good, but at the same time I feel like my head weighs next to nothing, and there're some hefty bald spots on it, but nonetheless, I don't have to wear a scarf (the birthday hat's not gonna cut it either), and for that, I'm more than pleased. Because as you see, I don't want to just be a cancer victim. This cancer's just a trial that's happening to me in my life right now. I'm dealing with it as anyone deals with anything difficult: one step at a time. The scarf would make me more of a victim, and I'm not a victim. I'm just a guy.

There are eight more radiation holes left in my proverbial radiation belt. It's come and gone rather quickly. The whole fourth surgery put a bit of a wrench in the works, but I got through it, and now here I am. Lately, I've noticed that I need to have more time to be able to get more done (I'm so glad that I actually feel this way rather than just being tired, throwing up, and having whole-body aches). Two to three hours midday really confounds the flow of time. In the next few weeks I'll be able to do much more.

Now I have to figure out how to take the next step...