Three kinds of men

"There are three kinds of men:

The ones that learn by reading,

and the few who learn by observation.

The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves." - Will Rodgers

I made the decision to go to Columbus for last nights game just hoping to have a good time. I certainly accomplished that goal. 

It was an incredible performance.

I'm not the kind of person who tries to take every positive or exciting experience and turn it into something profound, but I can't help but feel this morning that I learned something valuable last night:

Nothing is more important than creating memories, whether positive or negative--and the chance to do so should always be taken when it's possible.

Beyond experiences and memories, what else do we have? When were gone or when others leave us, that's all that remains. 

I don't mean to get too philosophical on you. 

Last night won't be forgotten, and not because of the football game. Eventually the details of the game will fade. 

What will last: the memory of the time that I had sitting surrounded by the Spartan players families in an opposing teams stadium, getting to experience first-hand the thrill of watching loved ones accomplish something no one gave them a chance to on the biggest possible stage.

What will last: The memory of sharing a moment of pure and total exhilaration with my older brother. I'm sure that eventually I'll forget the final score and the date and how wet and cold and miserable it was, and all I remember is the time him and I hugged and jumped around like mad men who had just won the lottery.

I'm a lucky man in that I have many experiences similar to this with countless great people that I can always look back upon and smile and laugh.

As much as I wish it weren't the case, maybe it's the fact I am sick and at least a little uncertain about what the future holds for me, that allowed last night to teach me the value of creating memories and experiencing things with the people you love as often as possible. 

Slow things down, and whether good or bad, exciting or scary, experience all you can while you can.

I hate when I sound preachy, so I apologize. I know it was just a football game, I really do, but I had to get these thoughts written down.

So I guess I'm a pee on the electrical fence for myself kind a guy, and I like it that way.

I'll keep learning through experience. 

I'll just pee all over the world. 

I did it the last few days, and will until I can't. 

Some memories last forever. Some of those were created this weekend:

With just a little help from my Spartans, who peed all over the Buckeyes.

Zing. 

Go green. 

Rules be damned...and an update

At my doctors appointment on Tuesday, I learned that starting on December 3, I will begin chemotherapy again. 

I will be going every three weeks for a full year.

365.  

This was not expected. 

This decision was based on the results of a recent study that showed this particular drug to be effective at combating a recurrence of aggressive lymphomas.

It isn't the worst news in the world. In a sense, it's playing offense instead of defense. It's what is best for me.

Still, it's a full year of chemo, when I was fairly certain I was done with that poison for what I hoped it would be the rest of my life. 

I'm not trying to be dramatic, but I'm pissed.

It doesn't mean that the transplant did or did not work. 

In fact, everything else looks good.

I will do my first post transplant pet scan on December 28. Obviously, the results of that scan could drastically change all of this. 

Hopefully it won't.

I am not happy with the news I received on Tuesday. 

So I'm going to break the rules, and travel out of the state and attend an event with a large group of people.

I will be in Columbus at the horseshoe on Saturday afternoon to watch Michigan State smash Ohio State. 

Maybe I'll chew some gum I find on the street and drink from a public fountain. 

What a rebel. 

If my doctors and nurses have a problem with it, they can take it up with me next time I'm in Ann Arbor.

I'll be there for chemo. 

"Know the rules well, so that you can break them effectively." -Dalai Lama

Fuck Cancer. Go Green. 

Incognito

It's been a long time since I've been in the cancer center.

At least a long time since I've personally been here. 

I've been gracing the newsstands for some time.

But no one knows it's meeeeeeeee.

So I can say things like:

"Boy, this handsome man on the cover sure is an interesting fellow."

"His bone structure is impeccable."

"I bet he works out."

And so on.

Hoping for some good news today. 

As in, no, there isn't more chemo in my future. 

As in, yes, your bloodwork is wonderful and you can go back to normal life shortly. 

I've learned expecting good news is dangerous. So I'll just plan on hearing things I don't love, hope for the opposite, and move forward either way. 

Never thought I'd say this, but I missed this place. Lots of familiar faces. Lots of history in a short amount of time.

The one thing I can say for the cancer center is that it never held me hostage for weeks, like the transplant unit did.

Cancer Center > Transplant Unit.

Except for the nurses...they're equally great in both places. 

And we all hate Ohio State this week.

Updates to follow.

Never too high, never too low. 

Boredom

I've been feeling, and telling myself a lot lately, that I'm bored. 

I've been telling other people that as well, when they ask how I'm doing. 

Stock answer:

"I'm doing fine...feeling better. Just finding it tough to pass the time with all the restrictions. I'm bored as hell."

It's a lame ass thing to say. 

So I'm not going to any more. 

I came across a quote today by Louis C.K.

He's a phenomenally pottymouthed, dark, and hilarious comedian. I highly recommend any of his stand-ups and his TV show. 

Still, when I woke up today, he's about the last person I thought I'd be taking life lessons from:

"I'm bored' is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you've seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless; it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you're alive is amazing, so you don't get to say 'I'm Bored."--Louis C.K. 

All of what he says is true. 

I've seen very little of the world. When this is all over, I plan to change that. 

Our minds are endless and I need to be better about finding ways to challenge it.

 Time isn't promised to anyone and it is amazing that I'm alive. 

Saying "I'm bored" has to be nothing more than lack of effort. I know this, because when I say I'm bored, I'm usually sitting on the couch, doing nothing, feeling bad for myself. 

No mas. 

Now, I'm not preaching and it certainly isn't in my nature to be perpetually busy, with sunbeams shining out of my ass--walking around with a constant huge smile plastered on my face, fascinated by a ladybug on a twig. 

That isn't me, and it will never be. 

Life can't be at all times exhilarating, mysterious, challenging and rewarding. Obviously there will be some down time. 

Still, boredom, it seems to me, is a decision. 

It's a choice I've been making too often. It's lazy. Born from excuses. 

Maybe it's even a personality flaw. 

Whatever it is, I'm going to try and be done with it. 

These 100 days can't be done soon enough. I'm ready to get on with the rest of the time I have. 

"I think my new thing will be to try to be a real happy guy. I'll just walk around being real happy until some jerk says something stupid to me."-Jack Handy

Accurate. 

Gray Area

Absolutes are easy:

You do have cancer. We're treating it. You'll get better.

You don't have cancer. Move on with your life. 

You are a world class moron for watching the Lions every weekend. 

You get the gist. 

Uncertainty is tough:

You might still have cancer. 

You could be done with treatment forever. 

There is a chance you'll have to continue with more chemotherapy. 

The very pleasant Stem Cell Transplant you just went through may have been successful. 

We can't tell you right now when you'll be able to put this all behind you. 

Will everyone call you out for being unfaithful if you give up on the Lions?

I can't speak for everyone, but I find I have a bit of a tougher time when things are "up in the air." 

I realize that possibly not having cancer is absolutely better than definitely having cancer. That isn't what I'm saying. I'm not an idiot (all the time). 

Certainty just provides a bit of clarity. Helps me focus.

Post PET scans that showed definite cancerous growth, it was clear to me what lay ahead. I'd receive treatment and get better. I was sick--I needed help. I could prepare mentally for what was coming. 

Black and white. 

Now, 40 some odd days into this transplant process, there is much to be determined. 

I may still have cancer, the transplant may not have been effective, there may be more chemo, radiation is a possibility if things go south.

Or:

I could be completely done. Cancer free. Movin' on. 

Gray and gray. 

You can imagine how the huge gap in possibilities for me in the coming months might lead to some anxiety. 

Uncertainty is difficult.

Especially considering how much I've been improving lately. I feel good, generally. My energy level is rising. My bloodwork looks good. I've been cleared for more activity. 

Took a weekend trip up north with my girlfriend, showed her Sleeping Bear and Arcadia. Saw the sights. Appreciated all the small moments. Never been happier in a relationship. 

I feel the support of everyone who cares about me every day. The Spartans are 8-0. My employer treats me better than any that I know of. 

I'm doing very well. 

Still, every trip in front of a mirror is a reminder:

I'm still recovering from something major, and more may lie ahead. 

Also a reminder that I have a giant, misshapen head. 

Also a reminder that I look like a chubby infant without my beard. 

Hi I'm Marcus

Mostly, though, that I've got a ways to go. 

I'll be ready for whatever comes. 

Never too high, never too low.