Two weeks ago at this time I was splayed out, cut open, and they were taking filets from my liver.
This morning I woke up and put on hard pants and walked 1.5 miles for coffee without a single groan or moan. I slept on my side last night. I was given the all-clear to start slowly adding fiber back into my diet yesterday. My poops are the poops of a normal man. It still hurts to cough or sneeze or burp or laugh, but not so much it short-circuits my brain.
Modern medicine is pretty wild, and following directions actually results in healing. Who knew?! It helps that I am buoyed by an ocean of fun and interesting people and my mindset is stuck on “life is so rad” most of the time.
More surgical follow-ups this week, where it will likely be the same news of “you’re doing good, keep it up” and then back to Oncology in a couple weeks to restart chemo for the rest of the winter to try and make sure any little microscopic lumps get obliterated and I won’t be doing this all again in 6 months.
You won’t likely see me until late spring, but when you do I will show you a cool scar.
Hope to see you reciting these entries at some dark smoky poetry slam while zentai clad performers do interpretive dance behind you.