Immaculate

So, it's been awhile. 

I didn't want to make a big deal out of the last couple of weeks, at least not here or on social media, but some things have happened. 

All of them are good.

That doesn't mean it wasn't nerve wracking. 

I am 6 months into my new round of chemotherapy, (which has been a breeze for the most part, save for some occasional nausea and exhaustion) and last week it came time for my first scan since the all clear back in January. 

So much had happened in these last 6 months, again, all of it good, that I almost forgot these scans and the wait for results would ever be necessary again. 

That's stupid.

 But once I found out I was in remission, I saw nothing but "not cancer" in front of me. 

So, I went and did my most recent scan and thought nothing of it right up until the moment that the doctor walked into the room a week later to discuss results. 

I'll save the dramatics--the word the doctor used to describe my scan was "immaculate."

Pair that with the lowest blood pressure, weight and best blood counts that they have ever measured on me... Like I said, everything has been good. 

Still, in the brief moments between the doctor walking in and hearing the good news, I was reminded of a sentiment I have spoken about at length on here:

You don't "beat" cancer, you don't win...just like you don't "lose," because in my opinion it is not a fight...but that's not important at the moment.

That sentiment didn't stick around long because of the news I received, and because I am healthier and happier than I have ever been. 

Still, I kind of liked the reminder that this is something that I'll do for the rest of my life. 

For that reason (and many others), I'm lucky.

Every six months, or a year, or however long the gap becomes between the scans for me, I'll keep being given reasons to celebrate. 

And I'll keep being reminded of just how lucky I am, and how invaluable health is. 

Everything else is secondary.

My life is fucking awesome, and if you have your health, yours probably is too.

 If you don't, strap in, and fix it yourself--or put it in the hands of smart people who can do it for you. 

Stay hearty and surrounded by people who love you. Bad times don't last. 

So, that makes two consecutive clean scans, for the first time since all of this started. 

I'm done writing this blog post, I'm gonna go get drunk with the people I love. 

Love/Hate

I love where I'm at in my life at the moment.

I love the relationship I'm in and my counterpart in it. 

I love her family. 

I love my entire family.

I love my niece and nephew.

I love my new job and the people I work with and where the place has taken/will take me and that I walk into the building more confident every day. 

I love that they are tolerant of my at-times erratic schedule, due to treatments. 

I love my new schedule--I'm up early and in bed early and I make the most of my time.  

I love that Emma got me into better eating habits and created an interest in taking care of myself. 

I love that I've lost 37 pounds. 

I hate that I need to lose about 20 more. 

I love that I'm reading more. 

I love that I'm awake and have energy and that I am capable again. 

I love this feeling I have that I know I have changed--but that the parts of me I considered the best before this all started--they're still there. 

I love golf. 

I love that my girlfriend loves golf. 

I hate golf (sometimes). 

I love being right. 

I love being wrong. 

I love making mistakes. 

I love having a reason. 

I love missing those not here any more. 

I love knowing someone who makes "she's everything to me" not just lip-service, or quotes from cheesy poetry/90s pop songs. 

I love my friends. 

I love that my friends have families now. 

I love the way we grew up together. 

I love growing up. 

I love standing up. 

I love breathing. 

I love being here. 

I love being. 

I love living. 

I even love the chemo I'm undergoing while I write this.

I love that it, in theory, will keep me alive for a long time. 

It's better than the alternative. 

I hate the alternative. 

All too often, the alternative arrives unexpectedly, tragically. 

For me, the alternative crept towards me at a pace similar to mine while running. 

(Not quickly). 

I was lucky. I had you guys. 

Death isn't the enemy. Love isn't the answer for all. 

That doesn't mean I can't hate death. 

Doesn't mean I can't, knowing that at some point all things come to an end, love and experience all I can. 

I'm just a lucky guy with a tiny dose of perspective who tries to share it minimally. 

I'm not a preacher and I don't really know what the hell I'm talking about. 

I don't. I'm just writing what comes to mind. 

I just see too many headlines and newscasts of tragic deaths and the horrid conditions some people live in and have had a best friend of my own die instantly a couple years ago. 

A flip of a switch, and it can be lights out. 

Say what you mean. 

Suffer no fools. 

Make your intentions and interests clear. 

Go get what you want and if you don't get all the way there it isn't failure and it's not because you didn't try hard enough. 

Keep trying anyway. 

Enjoy every day, every the shitty ones--no, ESPECIALLY the shitty ones--because it's always better than the alternative. 

Tell the people you love that you love them. 

And be careful picking up golf as a hobby. 

It's the only thing on this list than can, at times, make the alternative seem like a decent option.