Nick loses beard, hair to free agency; eyebrows sign contract extension

My hair has decided to take its talents to South Beach:  I have been a bad cancer blogger lately.  Really dropped the ball this week.  I apologize for it, and I'll try not to let it happen again although it probably will because sometimes I just get distracted.

But if I'm going to give everybody a play by play of my hair loss, then declare on Tuesday that I'm going to go "do something" about it, I should probably follow up to let you all know that I now look like this:

KCUF RECNAC indeed.

Do what you wish with that photo.

From what I've heard from others, and as I predicted early on, this is a pretty big event for a cancer patient.  It's the first time you really look like you have cancer.  The first time others can see you walking around and wonder to themselves, "I wonder what's wrong with that guy."  You actually look "sick" for the first time.  I guess the shock is greater for others than it is for me, since I don't feel any different and I don't have to look at my head all the time, but it's still a big event.

That said, this was another thing that was more amusing than devastating.  It helped that I was 1) not female and 2) had already buzzed my head a couple weeks ago.  Women, from what I'm told, have a much more difficult time dealing with hair loss, for obvious reasons.  And buzzing my head a couple weeks ago at least got me used to the concept of having a different haircut because of my disease.  I'm not particularly enthused by my current style, which is sort of inconsistent because some of the hair fell out, some of it was chopped, and some of it is growing back.

And for all the concern and attention to the hair situation...it's just hair.  It will grow back.  Maybe in a different form or whatever, but oh well.  This is far preferable to losing hair gradually until the above result is reached.  Shit was gettin in my food n' stuff. 

Oh and my eyebrows.  Not sure what the deal is there.  They were shedding like hell last week, but they appear fully attached right now, so I'm happy about that.  Elsewhere, hair appears to be thinning but otherwise normal.  So it doesn't look like I'm headed to the full Charlie V just yet. 

ALSO, IT WAS A GOOD NEWS DAY:  Got a letter in the mail today from International Cryogenics, the good people who are holding on to my sperm for me while I deal with this business.  If you donate, you have to have a lot of tests done so the docs (and your "intimate partner") know what they are dealing with.  Looks like I flunked the test:

I'll take "things you will never see in East Lansing" for $500, Alex.

BYAHHHHHHHHH!!!! IT'S GONNA BE A GOOD WEEKEND!!!! SPRING BREAK WOO!!!!

Cruising Altitude

I probably shouldn't just cease posting for a couple days when I'm writing a cancer blog.  People might think things are goin down.  But that's not the case - everything is fine.  I was just burned out from the God post, didn't feel great on Tuesday, and was out most of the day on Wednesday.  And then most of today was consumed with an awful rush-hour trip to Dearborn and a nap, since I got about two hours of sleep last night due to a combination of bone pain and thunderstorms. 

All that said, this morning's meeting with Dr. Anderson was generally positive, if uneventful.  Probably the most useful news is that there appears - at least visually and through clinical exam - to be a good response to the treatment.  My left armpit is looking more and more like my right armpit, although with a small scar thrown in there.  I've always preferred my right armpit, so this is good news.  I don't get too enthusiastic about this stuff, since the PET scan will eventually tell us everything we need to know, but it's good nonetheless. 

As for the other stuff, nothing much to note.  Dr. Anderson was lukewarm on my acupuncture idea, primarily because my WBC and platelet counts fluctuate, and acupuncture can present a non-zero risk.  He did say that there was medical evidence that acupuncture did have positive benefits - particularly in the management of pain and nausea.  Which, I just found interesting to hear from a doctor.  The doctor did say that the chances of acupuncture curing my cancer were slim, so that was mildly discouraging. 

Side note:  I really like Dr. Anderson.  But the thing that has impressed me the most with him (besides the fact that he is a double Michigan grad) is how much he knows about stuff.  You expect your cancer doctor to know about cancer, but it helps to have a doctor to explain the thought process behind every decision, to give you both sides of the coin every step of the way, and to give you the history of lymphoma treatment over the past 30 years.  And when I ask questions about things like acupuncture, he's able to sit there and discuss the issue, the medical support in favor of it, the potential risks, etc.  A lot of doctors know a lot of stuff, but there's real value in being able to convey that knowledge effectively to a patient.  Finding a doctor you feel comfortable with is a major, major component of dealing with something like this. 

As for the rest of the meeting, no significant news.  Dr. Anderson said that my lungs were "the best [he] listened to all morning," but it was 9:30am and he had seen only two other patients - one with tuberculosis and another lifetime smoker - so I'm not celebrating that.  Also, I've actually gained weight since I started treatment.  Only a couple pounds, but that's still promising. 

We also discussed the next couple steps.  The short version: I will have a second PET scan after cycle 3 or 4, and based on that, we'll determine whether we're going to go 4 or 6 cycles or whether I need radiation and all that.  One of the considerations is how well I tolerate each cycle.  I've done pretty well with cycles 1 and 2, and if that keeps up through cycles 3 and 4, there's less of a risk involved in going through cycles 5 and 6.  On my end, I'm considering meeting with another doctor up at U-M Hospital to get additional input on the treatment decision.  I'm perfectly comfortable with Dr. Anderson and Dr. Al-Katib.   But the way I see it, I only want to make this decision once, so the more opinions I have, the better the end result will be. 

Oh and we discussed yoga.  Interesting discussion topic, since I despise yoga.  I'm not even sure what my problem is with it, since I've actually tried it and I know it's rather difficult and useful.  But I think its one of those things that caucasian people do in an attempt to seem "cultured," but the "cultured" thing is done by so many cacuasians that it becomes a really caucasian thing to do.  Like going to a farmers market or running a half marathon or eating sushi.  Also, I think the every piece of stock footage that news programs use when they're doing a story about cancer patients includes people doing yoga.  Or at least awkwardly moving in a living room.  Just something I've noticed since my diagnosis.  Look for it sometime.  The voice-over will say, "A new treatment promises to improve the quality of life for cancer patients," while the footage shows some old woman doing something that resembles yoga or at least moving awkwardly in a living room.  That's not my idea of improving the quality of my life.  It's my idea of hell.  Anyway, I'm drifting again. 

But here's my deal: I 1) cannot lift (which darn man, because I would totally be pumping so much iron if I could), 2) cannot "overexert" myself, 3) get bored sometimes, and 4) should engage in some physical activity.  And yoga seems to solve these problems.  So after some prodding from others, I've agreed to consider the option.  And Dr. Anderson approved the idea.  So I might do yoga.  If anything, it will be good blogging material. 

That's all for now.  I have some good reader-prompted material to work with, and I'm slowly dealing with that.  As always, if you have a topic you want me to discuss or just want to hear me rant about, e-mail me at ncheolas@gmail.com.

The God Conclusion

"There are no atheists in foxholes."

"I prayed for twenty years but received no answer until I prayed with my legs."

-Frederick Douglass

"I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of god. I have seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves, and goodness. What god desires is here [points to head] and here [points to heart] and what you decide to do every day, you will be a good man - or not." 

-The Kingdom of Heaven

***

I have two pretty solid rules when I'm out with friends:  Don't discuss politics, and don't discuss religion.  I really like discussing politics, so I'll bend that rule if somebody brings something up.  But I'm not about to bring a rousing game of quarters to a halt by announcing, "Hey! How does everybody feel about abortion!?"

Religion is in a different category.  Will not discuss it.  Quite possibly the worst thing you can discuss after people have been drinking.  And I'm usually hanging out in Ann Arbor, where, you know, people have different religions.  It's not exactly the University of Dayton (please, hold the hate texts on that one). 

But then cancer comes along and I don't really have a doubt that people have wondered about this.  Not in a narcissistic, "I'm really wondering if Nick has come to God yet?" way, but more like, "What impact does something like this have on your religious views?" 

And man, I put a lot of thought into this.  I was really on the fence for a long time.  I've really only had one or two friends who have conjured up the courage to ask me about this, but I've received enough religious cards, tokens, prayers, that I know this is major component of dealing with cancer.  I just didn't know what or how to write about it because my thoughts on the subject are so scattered.  But writing here helps me un-scatter my thoughts, so maybe it wouldn't be all bad.  And who says I have to come to any conclusion?  I don't think that would even be possible.  Seems a little presumptuous.

But then I woke up on Sunday morning in a writing mood.  I had my first cancer dream just before I woke up on Sunday.  It was actually pretty good and I remember most of it.  I was talking with three other people, about my age, about my diagnosis and treatment and the whole experience.  I don't remember the exact questions they asked me, but I remember I didn't like the three people.  They were spoiled or bratty or something (shut up, none of this has to make sense.  I'm writing about a dream like 12 hours later).  But I spoke to them with such conviction and clarity in my thoughts.  I was impressed with my dreamy self.  I remember the gist of what I've said, but it's nothing I haven't already said here.  But I was doing in my dream pretty much what I do here - telling people who want to know what I know, what I know.  Conveying the reality of the experience.  Putting a face on it, as some people have told me. 

So I woke up, looked at my pillow, said, "Shit that's a lot of hair" for like the 5th day in a row, and decided, what the hell, I'll do the religion post.  It was the Sabbath and all.  And apparently we've been burning feces-smeared holy books all weekend.  So there really wasn't a better time to get after it.

***

I love good quotes, but I only remember them if they mean something to me.  I hate vapid, meaningless quotes that too often are used when an author can't come up with a meaningful opening.

But the ones listed above, collectively, could not do a better job of characterizing my varying and sometimes-conflicting thoughts on this topic. 

I've discussed my varying thoughts on the describing-cancer-with-battle-imagery thing.  I don't like it, generally.  And you certainly don't feel like you're "fighting" anything when you're sitting in the treatment chair.  But there are some pretty strong parallels - namely the life-or-death nature of the struggle.  This might be, and hopefully will be, as close to that sort of struggle as I'll ever get. 

So yeah, I'm in a foxhole of sorts.  And nope, I don't see too many atheists in my foxhole.  I'm not the most religious guy on earth, but I'm not exactly reading Richard Dawkins in the treatment room.

And I pray.  Every night before I go to sleep.  And I've done this for about as long as I can remember.  Which is good, because the Bible is not too kind (nor are humans) to people  to people who come begging for help only when they need it.  Nobody likes it when a friend or acquaintance pulls this stuff; I can't imagine God is very fond of it either.

I'm very accepting of the prayers, gifts, and tokens from others.  I've received a lot of that stuff, and it really does mean a lot to me.  I know I have Christians, Muslims and Jews praying for me.  When I'm done with this, I'm going to go work my game at Camp David or something.  If only half the people who said they were putting me on prayer lists actually followed through, I'm still on about 15 of them.  I have so many prayers going to so many gods or deities or beings from so many different religions, I can't really keep them all straight.  My bases, they are covered. 

Does it help?  I don't know.  That's the thing with religion: you just don't know these things.  That's why its called "faith."  But I know it certainly doesn't hurt.  If nothing else, it has a positive effect on my mental state.  I'll get into that more in a later post, but suffice to say I'm beginning to realize that that has more of an effect on things than I previously realized. 

You don't see a lot of the religious stuff around here, and that's pretty much just because I'm not like that.  I never have been.  And I'm not going to change now just because something bad happened to me, because that would just be feigned, contrived BS.  It would be an act.  It would insult my own intelligence.  It would insult people who really do have a different brand of faith or express it in different ways.  And I'm pretty sure it would be insulting to God as well.

***

But then, Frederick Douglass.  If you want to graduate from Michigan with a degree in one of the social sciences, you will have to read some very important pieces of literature on multiple occasions.  Over my 4 years there, I was assigned Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass twice, The Port Huron Statement three times, and Thomas Sugrue's Origins of the Urban Crisis three times.  If you want to read lesser-important authors like Jefferson, Madison, Hamilton, Paine, etc., well...you gotta hope to find the right class.  And you can check out the Constitution on your own time. 

Political kvetching aside, I rather like Frederick Douglass as a writer.  The man had some perspective.  The man had some experiences.  And he had a way of communicating that perspective and experience to an audience (whitey) that either didn't know or didn't sympathize with his situation.  He wrote with a purpose and he wrote well.  And he knew hardship better than most. 

Frederick Douglass was a slave in Maryland (that state is really not getting a lot of love here) in the mid 19th century.  He taught himself how to read and write, and escaped from Maryland into New York when he was about 20 years old.  And he had this to say about praying during his captivity:

I prayed for twenty years but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.

I know there are a ton of people who are struggling and have struggled with cancer.  I know there are a ton of extremely religious and devoted people who are struggling with cancer.  I admit I don't know the details of everybody's struggle.  But I have yet to hear about an individual who told doctors, "Thanks, but I'm going to pass on chemo.  I'm going to church."  I mean, I'm sure it's happened.  But the vast majority of people are "praying with their legs."

You do not come down with cancer at age 25 and not wonder why.  You sit there, and you think about how you've tried to do the right things, tried to live your life in a positive manner.  You know you've made mistakes, but seriously...cancer?  And why me, an admittedly not-exceptionally-religious or churchgoing guy, but one prays every night and who can point to some pretty great things he's done in life?  And can point to a hell of a lot more people who don't do those things but aren't currently dealing with their hair falling out every time they sneeze. 

Of course, I don't need the irrationality of these thoughts explained to me.  That's why it took me a few seconds to get over them.  Of course they're dumb.  Of course there aren't any good answers.  I know this. 

But it also makes me pretty incapable of "putting my faith in God" and "trusting the plan the good Lord has for me."  I don't need to get into the whole, "If God couldn't prevent this/If God could prevent this and didn't" debate.  It's not necessary. It's just the way I think.  

Brief Christopher Hitchens interlude.  Imagine me and my cantankerosity aged about 40 years and you have Hitchens.  Love his writing.  Not the best guy to soothe your feelings about cancer.  Background: Hitchens is an avowed atheist who came down with some form of throat cancer.  He writes about his experience.  In his latest piece for Vanity Fair, he reprinted a comment from a reader.  It's not very nice:

Who else feels Christopher Hitchens getting terminal throat cancer [sic] was God’s revenge for him using his voice to blaspheme him? Atheists like to ignore FACTS. They like to act like everything is a “coincidence”. Really? It’s just a “coincidence” [that] out of any part of his body, Christopher Hitchens got cancer in the one part of his body he used for blasphemy? Yea, keep believing that Atheists. He’s going to writhe in agony and pain and wither away to nothing and then die a horrible agonizing death, and THEN comes the real fun, when he’s sent to HELLFIRE forever to be tortured and set afire.

See?  Not very nice, right.  Although I'm pretty positive that nobody who reads this site harbors these feelings toward me.  At least, I haven't received any reader responses that indicate as such.

But seriously, is this guy that out of line?  I mean, do you really think there isn't support in the scriptures for this sort of stuff?  I've actually read good chunks of the Bible.  Not really out of any sort of strong devotional obligation, but just because I like to know about stuff and I don't want to be caught discussing things I don't understand.  I've read parts of the Torah and Quran as well (I took a religion class in undergrad - extremely fascinating stuff, especially since it was for an educational purpose).  I admit I don't have highlighted and annotated copies of all the holy works, but I've consumed enough religious material to know that these things say a lot of stuff. 

So who's to say he's wrong?  I could probably find an awful lot of support in scripture for that dude's reasoning.  Hell, I could probably do it for every single one of you.  I'm a lawyer. If you gave me two items: one, a Bible, two, a list of everything you've done in life, I could put together a pretty compelling Motion to Exclude each and every one of you from Heaven.  Would probably be a lot easier than most of the motions I've concocted thus far. 

Of course, this reasoning is off the wall too.  I'll let Hitchens deal with it appropriately:

First, which mere primate is so damn sure that he can know the mind of god? Second, would this anonymous author want his views to be read by my unoffending children, who are also being given a hard time in their way, and by the same god? Third, why not a thunderbolt for yours truly, or something similarly awe-inspiring? The vengeful deity has a sadly depleted arsenal if all he can think of is exactly the cancer that my age and former “lifestyle” would suggest that I got. Fourth, why cancer at all? Almost all men get cancer of the prostate if they live long enough: it’s an undignified thing but quite evenly distributed among saints and sinners, believers and unbelievers. If you maintain that god awards the appropriate cancers, you must also account for the numbers of infants who contract leukemia.

But my recurring thought is this: Why one and not the other?  Why "Put your faith in the good Lord Jesus Christ and all will be well" but not "Put your faith in the good Lord Jesus Christ...who, as we have every reason to believe from his autobiography, is rather upset with the way you've been managing your affairs this decade." 

I don't know, guys.  I'm a mere human.  Can't possibly know this stuff.  Won't tell anybody what to believe.  Won't tell anybody how to believe.  Won't tell anybody that their beliefs are correct or incorrect.

But I do know that when my doctor tells me that R-CHOP and a battery of drugs and maybe some radiation gives me the best chance to stay on this rock for another several decades, that's what I'm going to do.  And I'll talk to God, I'll converse with God, I'll listen to God, and I'll pray to God.  But you better believe I'm praying with my legs as well.

***

The best quote on religion that I've ever heard is from a movie: The Kingdom of Heaven.  I've never seen it.  Can't even tell you where I first heard or read the quote.  But once I did, it stuck with me.  It goes as such:

I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of god. I have seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves, and goodness. What god desires is here [points to head] and here [points to heart] and what you decide to do every day, you will be a good man - or not.

If there is a god who would take offense at such an approach to life, then that is a god with whom I would rather not associate.  This is just...so simple.  So pure.  It's concerned with you.  Not others.  You.  What you decide to do every day.  How you act.  What you have in your mind and in your heart.  

Because hell, that's all I can control right now: me.  So I do, the best I can.  And while I can't say I wake up and think about this quote from a movie I've never seen every morning and then try to live my life accordingly, I can say that this is how I try to live my life, and how that goal means more to me now more than ever.

I don't think I'm "amazing" or "inspiring" or "brave" or "courageous" or any other adjective you can come up with of which I'm not deserving.  Here's what I think I am: I am me, the same guy you've all known for three years, or five, or ten, or twenty, who has been put in a unique situation and is dealing with it the best way he can while having no real clue exactly how to do that.  I think most all of you would be capable of similar things.  Maybe not the whole writing thing, but that's what I do for a living.  I've surprised the hell out of myself these past few weeks; I'm sure you would as well.  You can say what you want, and really, I'm flattered by some of the things people say even if only half the people mean it.  But you will never succeed in convincing me that I'm anything special here.  There's nothing wrong if you think that.  It's just that I won't.

But when I hear stuff from people who say I'm "inspiring" or whatever, it does, honestly and truly, mean a lot to me.  Because as I've said before, I've gotta deal with this thing either way.  But if something I do because of it can have a positive impact on other people...well that's a bit of positive that didn't exist in the world prior to me creating it.  And that's something.

Because part of what I do here, and part of what I try to do every day now when I'm not in public, when I'm not "performing," (for those of you who know what I mean by that), is live my life according to that stupid quote from the movie above.  Sometimes, maybe God is watching.  Sometimes, I'm the only one watching.  But it doesn't matter whether I know or He knows - it's the same effect:

Just do the right thing.

I really don't think it matters if you do it because you think some higher being is going to cast you into the fiery depths of hell or because you're going to cast yourself into the figurative fiery depths of hell.  I don't think we have to make a definitive choice.  A man who does the right thing while staring down the barrel of a gun is hardly more virtuous as the man who does the right thing when nobody is watching.

So what does this mean in practice?  I'm still figuring that out.  But to me, it means getting up each day ("what you decide to do each day") and focusing not only on what I can do to get better, but never forgetting that I'm not the only dog in this fight.  Sometimes that's as simple as getting in a quick workout to keep my heart healthy, or drinking a protein shake to rebuild some of my cells.  Sometimes it's tossing up a blog post to let everyone know how I'm doing, because people do care or at least profess to care.  Sometimes it's responding to an e-mail to thank somebody for taking the time to write to me.

It means doing the right thing.  "Goodness," if you will.  It means being nice to people even when I don't feel like it (I think I do this more now than I did before July 30th, but still).  It means being sympathetic to people, even when they say things that I don't want to hear or do things that irritate me.  Nobody knows how to respond to something like this.  Everybody is trying their best.  How can you blame people for that?  I'm not the only one affected by this thing.

It means having courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves. 

It means having the strength, in your mind and in your heart, to do the right things.  It can be what God desires; it can be what you desire.  You can do it because you think God is watching or because you lost a parent far too young and you know he or she is up there watching you.  But if you are good in your mind and good in your heart, if you are able to look back at what you do in a day, a week, a year, or a lifetime and be proud of it - really, genuinely proud of what you have accomplished, then what god could possibly object to that?

And that's what I try to do.  I talk about this being a day-by-day battle, and it is precisely that.  I wake up every day and try to do little things to get better.  And you probably won't see a single moment of fear or weakness because I have none.  Unless you count hair loss.  I know my diagnosis, I know my prognosis.  I know I'm in pretty not-terrible shape as far as cancer goes, which can only be characterized in degrees of terrible.  And that helps.  But I don't think about it to much.  Because it all speaks to things that will be sorted out sometime after today.  And I can't worry about that stuff.  I can worry about two things because there are two things I can effectively control: me, today.  I can't worry about God's master plan, I can't worry about why this happened, I can't even begin, as a mere mortal, to think I have things like this figured out.  I mean, I guess I could worry about it, and I think about it to write posts and stuff...but I can't control it.  So what's the point?  I'd just drive myself crazy.

So what's the end game?  "You will be a good man - or not."  Am I?  I don't know.  I'll reserve my own thoughts on this.  You all have your own.  And I'm not even going to hazard a guess as to what the Big Guy Up There thinks.  But I will tell you that I'm pretty comfortable with where I'm at right now.  And that, when I go to bed each night, after writing down my thoughts here and saying my prayers, I don't have much on my mind that keeps me tossing and turning.  Some people would kill for peace like that. 

So my God Conclusion, if you haven't already figured it out, is that I have no conclusion.  I'm not sure it's even possible.  I really don't think it's necessary.  And I think I've made a pretty good case for why it's reasonable.

Also, you have all just been lawyered.  If you made it this far, congratulations.  It took me a couple hours and over 3,700 words to write, I reached no conclusion and probably confused you in the process, and now you all owe me $1200.  Thanks for playing.

This is not the "big post" and I'm sorry I hyped my post like that, and referencing it again is just going to do the same but whatever

Operation Hair Follicle Liberation will begin this afternoon.  I'm sick of having to use the compressed air on my keyboard every time I type something because my hair is getting stuck in things.  I'm also sick of writing daily posts in which I detail that yes, indeed, I am still losing hair.  So I'm going to go do something.  Not even sure what, but reports on hair loss will decrease significantly after this afternoon.  There was a slightly large bit that had apparently fallen out overnight, which would have been sad, except it made me think of a YouTube clip I saw in which some environmentalists watch a giant piece of ice fall off of a glacier and they all start crying (similar to I MOURN THESE TREES!!), and that made me feel better. 

Prednisone bump averted?  I'm knocking on wood as I write this, but I woke up today feeling ok and it's been over 36 hours since I stopped the Prednisone.  I'm a little down, but nothing like what I experienced during cycle 1 (which really wasn't that bad).  And it's another nice day outside.  So I think I'm going to go take a walk or something. 

SPARTY NOOOOOOO!!!  I really have a lot of good friends who went to/root for Michigan State, so I figure there will be a time I'm going to stop making fun of everything MSU does (plus, each time I post on them, it undermines the "I don't care about them" argument.  But at least I understand the irony).  But I run a blog, I have an audience, and it would be damn criminal of me to not point out things like this.

The background:  Some U-M students organized "Shoes Untied Like Denard Robinson" day in Ann Arbor yesterday. This is because, as you might have heard, Denard Robinson does not tie his shoes.  I mean, I wouldn't have untied my shoes or anything, but this is hardly worse than "Box Tom Zbikowski" Day in South Bend or "Everybody Date Brady Quinn's Sister" in Columbus.  A fun thing to support your football team and your quarterback.  Nothing wrong with that. 

Until Michigan State fires back with "Shoes TIED Like Kirk Cousins" Day.  You know those moments I described when I think about how I have cancer and then choose to feel sorry for other people?  This was one of them.  I imagined two Michigan fans discussing Denard Robinson's thrilling early-season production when a MSU fan walks up, screams "Kirk Cousins, bitch!", and runs away. 

And sometimes, when I'm in treatment rooms or waiting rooms, I'll look around at all the patients, all the beds, all the pain and suffering that so many people are going through, and the absolute sadness of the situation really has an effect on me.  I had the same feeling when I read through the comments on this Facebook page.  I'll sample so the senior members of my audience don't have to navigate Facebook:

"People... Michigan HAS made a bowl last year: the Toilet Bowl sponsored by Kohler."

Ha!

"I hope Denard trips over his untied laces and tears an ACL"

Yeah dude, I spend most of my day hoping 19 year old kids tear ligaments too!

"I sure do get a kick out of Michigan fans insulting the education I am receiving here at MSU-- like the argument that MSU is a mediocre school holds any water."

 (Types response.  Deletes response)

"FIRE UP CHIPS! GO BLUE! ... oh wait... I've seen those colors together in a bowl last year... the toilet bowl."

 Wait how the hell did Central Michigan get dragged into all this?

Hair loss goes to Category 4. Evacuation ordered.

A view of my pillow this morning.

The hair.  You know the old question, "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?"  Well I'm working on a related question: "How many days can a Greek-Italian kid last before you can tell he's a chemo patient?" My advisers are working feverishly to come up with a hair loss contingency plan.  I've appointed a blue-ribbon commission to analyze my options.  I'm teetering between "damage control" and "cut my losses."  The situation drifts between "this is pretty bad" and "seriously, this is bad, guys." 

But the good news: This is really the worst I'm dealing with right now, and it's more amusing than anything else.  I'm preparing for the Prednisone bump tomorrow (based on how I felt after finishing Prednisone during cycle 1).  But today I've been fine.  So hair will continue to be priority number one until my spine declares war on my abdomen again or something. 

This week.  A relatively light week on the cancer-fighting front.  Pretty much a recovery week, although I will be meeting with Dr. Anderson on Thursday, getting blood work done, the normal routine. 

But, of course, I'll have some things going on around here.  Updates on Hair Crisis 2010, live reports from embedded reporters in my lymphatic system, maybe a trip to Ann Arbor worked in there, and possibly a foray into "Eastern medicine." It's cancer baby! The possibilities are endless!

A bit of forewarning, however:  I have a massive, sprawling, deep post in the pipeline that I'll probably drop tomorrow, maybe Wednesday.  It's unlike anything I've ever written in my entire life (as is most of the stuff here, but still).  Sometimes I start writing on a whim and I don't stop for a long time.  This one, I wrote after weeks of deliberation and did not stop for a very, very long time.  I think I blacked out twice while writing it.  I don't even know if I'll have the stones to hit post. 

I'm being over-dramatic, but in full disclosure: the post is on a topic that has been known to offend people from time to time.  My policy on offending people on this site is this: 1) I will never do it intentionally, unless you have done something to warrant it (Mike Bouchard, Mitch Albom, Michael Rosneberg) and 2) I don't particularly care if I do, because the moment you start caring more about offending people than expressing your views, your writing suffers.  So, there's your heads up. 

The Final Countdown and the title of this blog explained. For your viewing pleasure:

In a very tight race, Gob Bluth's "Final Countdown" entrance beats out Snuggie Chemo.  I hope the treatment room doesn't have any rules about smoke machines.  I know Henry Ford Hospital doesn't have any rules about carrying knives around. 




And for those of you who were in the dark about the title of this blog, this should clear things up.  If it doesn't, don't call me and ask me to explain it to you. 

The Process of the Catch

Mary Sue Coleman is so happy about the diversity displayed in this picture.

When I'm getting the Rituximab during chemo, nurses check my vital signs every half hour or so.  This is because the Rituximab can do weird things to your body - provoke a fever, send your blood pressure plummeting, mess with your pulse rate, etc.

I see no reason why nurses shouldn't do the same during Michigan Football games.  As Michigan lined up inside Notre Dame's 10-yard-line as the seconds ticked off the clock, I asked a friend (med student) to check my pulse.  Her response: "It's going pretty fast."  Had I been in treatment, the nurses would have scaled back the infusion rate.  But this wasn't an option during the game.  My body just had to deal with it. 

But Michigan won.  For the second straight week, soul-crushing was averted.  And they did so on the road, in dramatic fashion.  It was a pretty sloppy game.  But pretty losses hurt a lot more than sloppy wins.

I talk a lot about minimizing the number of things I have to worry about.  Michigan Football is on that list.  I'm just sick of hearing the same crap for the past couple years.  Sick of hearing about how Rich Rodriguez suddenly forgot how to coach football.  Sick of hearing people from no-name football schools take potshots at Michigan (If you don't have any chips on the table, don't play the game).  Basically just sick of listening to people who don't know what they are talking about yap about things.  Nobody would sit there and lecture me about lymphoma.  So why the hell are you, inexplicable Georgia fan from Portland who went to Diddleburg College in Maryland, talking about our defensive depth chart?

But we're good.  And hopefully, we're good for another two weeks, with UMass and Bowling Green rolling into town.  And for now, there is some peace.

And now, random things that I thought about this weekend:

1) I'm not sure if Michigan Fans have deleted last season from their mental hard drives - I wouldn't blame them if they did - but, uh...come on now.  I guess this is sorta cancer-induced as well, but let's not get ahead of ourselves here.  I mean, I know this is different from last year. This year, we're coming off a big last-second win against Notre Dame that vaulted us into the top 25 and tossing around the word "Heisman" when discussing our first-year quarterback and staring down the real possibility of starting 4-0 despite our shoddy defense which will help to relieve the pain of our crappy previous season, whereas last year we were...oh.  Never mind. 

Yeah, party pooper, rain on parade and all that.  But seriously.  If Michigan Football and cancer have combined to teach me nothing else, it's "let's not get ahead of ourselves."  So right now, I'm not celebrating our bowl appearance or winning season or anything beyond Notre Dame, the same way I'm not celebrating "cancer-free" day.  I will not use the phrases "winning season," "bowl game," or "Denarded."  In fact, I will actively try to shoot anybody who uses the word "Denarded."  Hopefully, those days will come.  But they aren't here yet.

2) I think Brian Kelly is a good football coach.  But he is one angry human being.  He seems like the type of guy that would yell at me for getting cancer. 

3) "Denard Robinson doesn't tie his shoes!" is the new "Tom Zbikowski boxes!"  Insanely annoying.  And virtually every Michigan fan I know thinks the same thing.  Was this true of Notre Dame fans when Zbikowski played?  I'm not sure I can take three years of this stuff. 

4) The great thing about Michigan State fans is that they are just so...Sparty.  There was a pretty strong "Go Irish" sentiment emanating from the MSU crowd this weekend.  Which...what the hell guys?  You had a game Saturday.  Against a (semi) actual opponent.  And you're playing the Irish next week.  And that's always a pretty big game.  And you guys hate the Irish at least as much as we do.  Probably more.

The thing is, I really don't think most Michigan fans have any real animosity toward MSU.  I usually pull for MSU in both football and basketball (not hockey.  Their hockey team can go to hell).  They're a Big Ten team from the state of Michigan.  I have a lot of friends who go there.  They're a Big Ten team from Michigan.  The Michigan-MSU game is more fun if both teams are competitive.  Same goes for Notre Dame, really.  They've never really bothered me, I have good friends who went there, and I've been to games in both East Lansing and South Bend and found both fan bases to be generally pleasant.  I don't really like Mark Dantonio (loved John L. Smith), but he's really the perfect coach for the Spartans:  An insecure guy with an inferiority complex who is preoccupied with Michigan.

It's just this: It makes me sad to see a rivalry in which one side really, truly hates, despises, and detests the other side - to the point where they cheer injuries to your players and root for their own hated rivals to beat your team - while the other side...just really doesn't pay that much attention.  And I don't like to have to deal with sad things during cancer time. 

So really, I hope both MSU and Notre Dame do well this year.  Makes things more fun.  If Michigan beats both teams, it's better for Michigan if they do well.  And I've never really been big on rooting against teams just to spite my own friends.  If MSU plays Illinois, what do I have to gain by rooting for Illinois? 

Plus, at what other school in America would I have had the chance to give first aid to victims of a double stabbing outside a frat house?

5) Boise State didn't play this week - they had a bye week to rest up for the rest of their grueling schedule - but the "Boise in the National Title Game" hysteria took a big hit as Virginia Tech fell to James Madison on Saturday.  Since Boise State beat Va Tech by 3 points while JMU beat Va Tech by 5 points, I look forward to the voters rightfully slotting Boise just behind JMU in this week's rankings.  Which would be possible if JMU was a D-I program.  But seriously, anytime you have a team whose signature win is over an unranked team that they beat by fewer points than a FBS school, you gotta pencil them into the National Title game.  If only there was some dude offering rational thoughts on this issue last week. 

6) Really, God?  Picking on the Lions now?  That's just cold.

Nope.

7) Oh yes, the cancer thing.  Pretty good weekend except on the hair front.  The beard combover does not look like it's going to work out.  I might make some decisions on the hair early this week, but I'll see how things go.  It's starting to visibly thin, but we're not exactly at DEFCON 1 at the moment.  And really, it's just hair.  Which is not a fun thing to say, but what are the alternatives?

But seriously: props to the chemo nurses.  I asked them what to expect in terms of hair loss, and they told me "about three weeks from today [this was during cycle 1], increasing after cycle 2."  And this was pretty much spot on.  It's sorta nice to know what to expect (although I only speak to my doctors and nurses about these things).  If there's one thing I try to cautiously avoid during this whole thing, it's getting too optimistic or setting myself up to be disappointed (see Michigan discussion above).  Like when my doctor walked into the room last week and said, "Wow! You still have your hair" before I reminded him I was only a week out of cycle 1.  The nurses were dead right about the hair, the effects of getting off the Prednisone, and the post-chemo night nausea.  

I walk a very fine line between freaking myself out by considering all the possibilities, no matter how remote, and preventing myself from getting to optimistic or "positive" and setting myself up to be disappointed.  I'll probably get into this a little more in a later post, but that's the gist of managing expectations.  And that's a daily battle.