I wanna start this by saying the picture isn’t a dig at my oncologist, I just couldn’t find any good images of patients shrugging. Anyways, I’ve been a busy little beaver these past few weeks as it’s the summer, I only work part-time now, and I’m trying to live life to the fullest at the moment. But I wanted to take a second to revisit this blog and let everyone know I’m still around. I know when I read people’s cancer blogs and they have a morbid post followed by weeks of radio silence, I usually assume they died. But not me! Not dead, just shifting my focus from being stuck inside on my computer all day to trying to get out there and live it up.
I recently made the switch from full-time to part-time at work because I honestly couldn’t hack it at 40 hours a week. I’m tired, sick, and should be focusing on things besides trying to advance my career. I had the choice to either stay at 40 hours, go part-time to 20 hours, or flat-out quit and I decided to go with the medium option. Here’s the thing: when people say “live like you’re dying!” they have 2 fundamental things they are missing. 1: in order to go off and skydive and shit so I can “live like I’m dying,” I need money. If I want to live, ya know, in a house and have healthcare and stuff, I need a job. And 2) I’m the only one dying. So Monday – Friday 9-5, I’m the only one around. Going out and doing fun shit isn’t as fun when no one else is there, so I still gotta have something to keep me busy when everyone else is busy. I guess what I’m saying is I would love to quit my job, piss off and do shenanigans with my wife and friends, but that ain’t how the cookie crumbles baby.
The other issue I’m dealing with is that no one told me when I would die. Sounds weird, but let me break it down real quickly-like. See, my doctor didn’t say, “you have x number of months to live.” He said, “your tumors are growing and chemo isn’t working.” Two very different things because if he had given me a timeline, I could plan for it. Like if I had 1 month, I’d just quit my job and live off my savings til I croak, no biggie. But with no definite end in sight, if I do that and then wind up living for another few years, I just totally screwed myself cause I can’t afford to not work for that long and who would hire a terminally ill kid? Not me, us terminally ill folk tend to not be too invested in our work.
One last thing: I’ve been using the phrase “terminally ill” a lot in this blog. That’s not a new thing though. I was diagnosed as being stage IV terminal 4 years ago (4 year cancerversary last Wednesday, no big deal), so it’s not like I got scans back and they decided I was terminal. I’ve been terminal for a long time. Plus I’m trying to get this blog to rank on Google for the keyphrase “terminally ill” so I gotta use it a lot. All in all, I may have overreacted in my last blog. I think I’ve just had time to process everything and calm down a bit, plus taking chemo also settles the mind too. I guess I’m just not as convinced I’m about to start pushing up daisies as soon as I was a few weeks ago. I mean, I don’t know if the chemo is working and it certainly may not be but my tumor pain is gone and I’m doing shit like going to Red Sox games and surviving week-long drinking benders over the 4th. That’s not stuff people on death’s door can say. And huge shout out to the wifey for pushing me and helping me do all that and for going through it with me. But I dunno, I may be around for longer than I thought. Or maybe I’ll get hit by a bus tomorrow, who knows. Speaking of which, I was researching renter’s insurance today cause our neighbor got bedbugs and then left all his shit in the driveway so now squid and I are afraid we might get them, and I discovered USAA doesn’t cover pest damage, but does cover spacecraft collisions. So if I get bedbugs, I can go fuck myself, but if a goddamn space shuttle crashes into my house I’m covered. Like ooo gotta have that coverage!! I’m real worried about getting demolished by fucking space shit falling from the goddamn sky. Waaaayyy more common than my damn neighbor and his dogs giving us bedbugs. Ridiculous.