Happy Halloween

Bit of a different Halloween this year. Still nice though. Celebrated with just a big fire and a short visit from family. Another good day, just further work into getting this camp turned right into a home. It's exciting, but development is slowed down a bit waiting on people to do the types of work I can't do. I'll write about what's going on around here once the story has developed a bit more.

For now I'm going to get back to the more central issue, and the part of it my focus has been most directed towards recently. The Body. I've found that this time on chemo has given me an opportunity/forced me to get in touch with the basics of what is going on in my body and looking after it. This first showed itself in the medical limitations. I had to be careful of what I did to avoid risking harm or any such. Then the symptoms began. First I had to control and change what I ate. Processed foods just don't work, greasy fried stuff became nauseating, large amounts of grains stopped being good, meat quantities even had to go down! The way I eat has become fundamentally different than when I was not on chemo. I hold to some similar core tenets, but I eat a ton less, of much more healthy, clean food. An interesting particular point of insight I noticed lately in how it's changed my digestive system: I need to chew way more. I know you're not supposed to, but ever since I was a little kid I took big chunk bites and just ripped em and ate em. I don't know why, I guess I felt like it was the carnivorous way. To do that now however, which I finally noticed a few days ago I was still letting myself do a bit, was irritating my stomach a ton. It gives me acid reflux and just discomfort, and I can feel all my blood pull into my stomach. I now need to make sure to pre-process food that I'm taking into the system as much as possible. My digestive system is still working, it's just high maintenance.

Next, the tension and stress brought pain out in my back, so I began stretching. Then I signed up for some physio and massage. During the massages, I went for a bit of an "aggresive" masseuse, who was quite cute and surprisingly willing to push on those muscle knots to that satisfyingly painful point where it actually has an effect. During these, I worked on breathing exercises to help them work. Then I kept working on those, and stretching. More and more this has added up, and I think today I spent nearly 6 hours doing stretching. I felt myself build up huge stores of lactic acid, and twice in the day did contrast showers to flush it out. I've gotten conscious of flaws in my posture, and have begun to change things that have been big problems for me for ages. My shoulders are coming back to the right spot, hips lining up better, back and neck straighter...  The stretching methods I've done have been... different than I tried in gym class. I've spoken to a couple people who do yoga and the breathing methods I've done are apparently the same as some of theirs. I've shocked myself at my ability to break muscle knots and reposition joints though, it's very hard to explain but last night and today in particular things seemed to be working so well it was surreal. I noticed however, in the few weeks before I started this blog when I was in a bad place, I was less on top of this, didn't get any massages, and things got bad again very quickly. I was extremely sore all the time prior to getting back on top of it. Seems like my body in general can work just great, but it's higher maintenance now. As a note, I am WAY better at stretching if I smoke a doobie. I find it really supports my conscious awareness of the body, I can way more readily identify and stretch the one particular muscle that's knotted, or find just the right angle to stretch/release the knot that's been bugging me for ages and I can't figure out. I'm sure that's not true for everyone though. I think it's that it calms me down a whole lot and makes me more restful and at peace. Anyways, moving on.

So, the interesting point I'm coming to is this: am I coming out of chemo healthier than I went in? Perhaps this time of facing a daunting challenge of health has actually awakened a very valuable inner part of myself. I've lost 20 lbs, I'm straightening up, and feeling great (most of the time). I'm not saying it's taking no tax on me or chemo is a new way of going to fat camp, just what if it is possible to make lemonade out of lemons to that degree? Just another goal to add to the list. I think that it's an interesting reveal to me of the level of body awareness that is attainable and the value it can have. I hope to keep improving. I feel like chemo can be a valuable lesson for me.

 It's like as a car owner, going from being owner of a truck to a Ferrari. Quality hasn't gone down, but it's a lot easier to break, and needs way more checks and maintenance. While the truck doesn't need those things, if you did look after it as well as you do the more sensitive car, it will last longer and work even better. That's something I hope to keep in mind moving forward from here. While I was healthy and okay, I was not looking after my body nearly as well as I could have and took a great toll on that. I hope to make use of this forced rest time to deal with alot of the residual scar tissue and other things, and once I break all the broken bits off, rebuild the right way.

Time to get back outside to the big fire and burn a little one just for me I think.

Today Was A Good Day

Hello again,

So first, I've posted a link to an album in the side. It's not perfectly organized or anything, but it shares a few pictures of my home, my life, and what I'm up to. If you look through it while you read here some pictures will match what I'm talking about, and they'll all show you the beautiful land I'm learning to call home.

Back to my goals though. I said I'd write about a day, show a day in the life, and I picked a damn good one to do it for. Once I finally got off here and finished my relaxing morning doob, I gathered the dogs and tossed them in the house, hopped on the quad, and rode over to my little mother's big cottage. Hot running water is a luxury it is hard to go without some times. I had to clean myself up and wash the blender to make a meal. While I was there I had a bit of an interesting experience, some stress that worked out well in the end. Something I've found a challenge through all this is really staying on top of myself and keeping aware of stress and anxiety, because things I found I normally had a lot of patience for I just don't have time for while already dealing with everything else. This has been something that especially of late has brought an interesting challenge. I've had to learn to show and communicate the vulnerability this stress has brought out in me, and I was able to make a good step with that today. My mom's husband Dave called me while I was having a shower, wanting to talk about clearing my stuff out of the apartment ASAP to get it rented. While I'm excited about moving out of town, I was still anxious and hesitant to go all in on expecting this place to work through the winter. Without having met with NS power I didn't know what the hookup was going to be like, and had had it built up to a monstrous undertaking. Something I've had to recognize in myself is I'm not really ready to move back in with my parents, and the idea of doing so really works me out. What lies at the base of all of it is the challenge of step parents. While they can be great people, doing huge acts of kindness for you, it is a struggle to have them feel like true family, and to trust them like that. I find my defensive instincts can be brought out easily in even minor confrontations, especially with my stepfather ( I wonder if a shrink could comment on that eh?) and that's something I've been having to manage. I just think I did better today than I have before. When he called me and was pressuring me for decisive action on finishing moving out before I felt the confidence and security in this new place actually being able to work in the short term, I was actually able to communicate calmly to him that I recognized his good intent and rational stance, but that I needed to take an emotional position and be clear that until I knew I could trust this new home to live in through the depths of winter, I wasn't ready to risk being thrust back under my mom's household. I talked to my mom after and let her know what that was, and in the end I think Dave and I bonded tighter over having been able to talk about it, instead of letting it turn into some argument over nothing, generating pointless anger between two well intended people. I've dealt with such confrontations far too much lately, and to have taken even one step towards preventing them felt really good. So while I did experience some stress dealing with that, in the end it turned into a great victory.

Next, came another step forward. Leonard, who sold me this beautiful property, called me while I was getting out of the shower, and he'd stopped by wanting to chat about some business I'd mentioned to him. I told him I'd meet him back at my spot in half hour, and ripped back on the quad. When he got there, he came as a scout, leading an army of good news. I'd spoken to him about what our friend and electrician Wendel had said about power hookup, and what he thought it would take/cost to get it to happen, and he thought it was just crazy. He'd spoken to two electrical engineers from BC hydro, and while they weren't locals they thought if we had to hold to the specs we'd been quoted it was insane. I was told I needed a 10m pass with no overhang of limbs or standing tree for full length of the line, and that they couldn't run the line over the house because of the chimney, so we were scheming moving the mobile home, running ground wire to avoid having to cut down the whole forest, all kinds of seemingly expensive, complicated schemes. Leonard was happy to hear that the real Power Eng. was coming and that I wasn't going to listen impulsively to the speculation. Was he ever right.

Right after he left, the engineer showed up, and we took a look around the lot. Within 20 minutes we had a line picked up for the poles, as simple as it could possibly be with hardly any trees to fall that I didn't want to anyway, and he gave me a cost estimate. For 130m of line, 30' poles prepared for commercial grade power if I seek to upgrade long term, ballpark 1200$. All I need to do is cut a couple patches of trees, an 8' wide corridor through perhaps 30m of bush,  and have the power mast extended to 6' above roofline. So much for moving the trailer, clearing a new area, setting a new pad, or thousands of dollars of groundwire, or any of those crazy things, and hello to an officially actually affordable freakin home. I'm lovin it.

So once I got that sorted out I was excited and got down to work. I didn't take pictures before hand like I should, but I started falling some of the trees closest to the house I needed to get rid of. I got a lightbulb and snapped some shots before I took down the biggest one in that patch. It wasn't much of a tree, but I thought some might find it neat (..my mom did, okay guys?). I got a good workout of running the saw and planning what I was going to cut. It was really satisfying to be working and working with such a definite and conclusive purpose, even better than the other work I've been doing out here.

Afterwards, I was lucky enough to have a very cool visitor stop by. Rick the retired pilot, cool as hell, stopped by with his pups for a look around and a nice walk. I took him around some of the property boundaries, showed him some land, and he thought it was quite a place. It was nice to have a visitor stop by, and it's fun to get to hang out with people who have so much life experience, so different from what I've been open to. On that note, after he took off, I split some wood, cut a couple more trees down, and went over to visit Leonard and Rosa.

They are such a sweet old couple. I hung out with them for I'm not even sure how long. We just had an incredibly interesting conversation, about their land, the area, the history and its people.  I learned a whole lot about Blandford in that living room. Rosa's family is the Meisners, and they date back to this area for about as long as is possible. An interesting fact is that the point of land my Mom and Dave's cottage is on is actually Meisner's point. Leonard was also very happy and satisfied to hear how simple and straightforward the power hookup will be.

Following that up, I hopped on the quad and went for dinner at The Deck, got to more officially meet Kathleen who works there and her husband Paul, who was there having lunch. I talked to her about quads, and told her about some trails. In return she shared the recipe with me for my favourite soup they make! Preeeetty sweet deal. I really love it out here. That pretty much brings me to this point. A relaxing evening by the fire, reflecting on a good day, and doing my best to share it.

Bright and Early

Hello again,

I found my first couple posts were a bit dark and somber. Such a tone is hard to avoid when trying to share fully the experience of confronting cancer, but it is far from a full summary of my experience. That's what I hope to share a bit today. I'm going to make an effort to go for an honest, thorough, full disclosure of what a day for me is like right now. It'll be put together through a few posts, and now I've got a camera so I should be able to add some pictures.

Wake up: 600 am. The stomach is ever so slightly discomforted, but nothing serious. Thanks to the 3+ L of water I drink through the night to keep the mouth from feeling dry, I do have to take a bit of a leak though, and that means it's time to get up. I'm out of bed, and since I'm up I take a Zantac, helping with the minor acid reflux I'm dealing with. Next I lie back down a while. Something that's been different since being on chemo is what getting up is like. I used to wake up and be instantly firing on all cylinders. It's a habit I had since a child, but that was just reinforced by spending my college summers in tree planting camps. These days though when I wake up my metabolism is turned right off. When I get up first, I get cold almost immediately, and have to go lie down awake and insulated for a few minutes to let the engine warm up and get going again. It's strange, but now that I've learned how to let my body do what it needs, it really doesn't take away from my day.

Next thing, time to start the fire and drink some hot prune juice. Starting the fire is fun. I find it hugely therapeutic to have a fire heated house. Propping up the kindling, balling up some newspaper, and watching it go is a relaxing part of the day. Turning on the generator to get the lights going after isn't as fun, but it's actually still kind of satisfying. It feels good to feel like I'm camping.

The prune juice is a necessity because of the type of anti-nauseant I'm taking. It pretty much shuts down my innards, being the same type they use before surgery. (Ondacetron). I haven't had to take that one always, it's the more serious anti nauseant of the two I've been given, but my diet adjustments and/or the chemo have led to some acid reflux, which on the first night of chemo compounded with the stomach irritation from chemo, and the mild throat irritation from smoking so much weed, to lead me to throw up a good bit. That's an even bigger no-no than usual with chemo, (although when I did it was long enough after to be safe thankfully) so I'm taking a strong preventative approach to avoid allowing a pattern of that to develop. That's a warning I took real note of from my first oncology nurse: allowing yourself to vomit or your pattern to break makes it easier to happen again. An interesting note is my neurologist feels the same way about seizures.

Anyways, that said and done, the "business" of the morning is taken care of and I can relax. I make a coffee, roll up a big fat doobie with a nice line of hash along it, and sit down by the computer while I wait for the sun to rise. Today I've managed to make use of that time, and put this down on paper. Alot of days I just read, think, listen to the news, and scheme plans.

Next though is the day. Today I have quite a few things on the list. First and foremost is NS power is coming to assess the site and we're going to have to plan our power hookup. I'll find out today if and where I'm moving my house, how many trees and which trees I'm going to need to fall to get the power lines in, and what kind of cost is going to add up. I'm hoping as well to get a bunch of good, camera pictures of this property, this country, and what I'm doing out here.

For now, I think I'm going to get out there, get some morning shots, and a bite to eat. I'll be back later on!

Chemo: What It Is, What It Isn't, and How I'm Dealing With It.

Hey,

So time for a second step of this journey. I've appreciated greatly the signs of interest I've seen already, so I'm going to try to build the medical picture a bit better, starting with the big focus of right now: Chemotherapy.

First off, most of us have a really basic, simple understanding of chemo. I know coming into it I pictured myself waifishly thin, bald, weak, and just a fragment of myself. I'm lucky in that the type of chemotherapy I'm going through doesn't wreak such havoc on the body.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Temozolomide

That's the one. I take 165 mg/day 21 days on, 7 days off.. I'm on my 6th cycle of 12 right now. The side effects it has had on me are hard to define, but certainly far less than I expected. I've faced challenges in adaptation and management of it, but at this point I've found a very successful balance and that's part of what I hope to share. As of now it has had no effect on my blood tests in any form, my blood pressure is still ideal, I'm keeping eating healthy food at good levels, and I'm "vigourously" active (quoting my Oncologist).

My understanding of what's working for me is unavoidably subjective. I can talk about my experience, what's felt good, what's helped, and what hasn't. The first thing this unavoidably brings up is Weed. I've been prescribed medical marijuana since the beginning of my chemo, and it has (by my best gauge) been instrumental in my self management. I was asking about that from the beginning, as soon as these treatments came up. I've always liked weed, and since I had the surgery and have been banned from alcohol, it's been my only recreational drug. I also think I related to it as bit of a self therapy, bringing some peace and relaxation to my nights after work, and making it easier to step back for a few minutes. I thought that chemotherapy was just going to be a method of leverage to get cheap, legal weed. Was I ever wrong! (At first.)

I wasn't offered a prescription from any doctors, and when I brought it up with the oncologist and my neurologist, neither of them would endorse it. Neither would my old GP, who is focused on athletic medical approaches and does not support it. I had to go back to my amazing old childhood doctor, Dr. Vicky Mitchell, before I could get that going. She was quickly supportive, saying on a therapeutic basis she thought there was easily enough evidence to prescribe it, and away we went. A couple weeks later, I got a letter from Health Canada with my official slip of legality! Huzzah! A sheet came with that package about ordering from their one registered herbal services, so I ordered my maximum amount (150g) at 5$/g  and waited for it to show up.

Let me tell you: if you get a prescription for medical marijuana, do NOT order from the government. That was absolutely the worst schwag I've ever paid a dollar for. I hated it and was downright unwilling to smoke it, it tasted terrible, didn't work well, and just generally sucked. That was a nasty surprise.

 It quickly became time to find another source. I began with, and have greatly enjoyed, I found a website (if you google cannabis dispensary it might turn up ;) ) who have some really good product, and particularly had available edible, and refined product to help me smoke less and get more out of it. For the first few months I brought my amount up, starting off mostly smoking, then eating more, and getting more and more from them. I found in this time, more and more, that I was prioritizing the edibles. I was getting less high, less goofy, less munchies, but still the pounding migraines that came alongside the seizures in the early days were gone, there was no nausea or realy any physical bother from the chemo, and things seemed great. Over time, as the chemo built up in my system, I found I needed to eat more and more to feel good. This began to seem expensive, but was helping alot. I definitely enjoyed smoking, but that was far more of a mentally therapeutic part of the picture. The eating it on the other hand was seeming to play out more substantially, so I decided to bring my amount up. All the recommendations I found around the internet were steady at approximately 1g/day of hash oil/resin. Soo.... Big bottle of "Snake Oil" here I come! That was a tincture, designed to release beneath the tongue, of hash oil cooked into cannabis seed oil. It was noticeably better than any of the other methods, but QUITE expensive. 2000$/500ml. I am a lucky enough person to have parents who were somehow willing to pay for me to do that dosage, but I didn't feel too comfortable with it, the price just added up too much for something not proven to have any direct medical effect. So I began to increase my research... I did indeed find some interesting stuff, but it's a separate story. I found an answer another way.

In fact, I found a local charitable group who provides edible capsules for free. That's what I've been going with since. Right now I'm eating approximately 1g/day of the RESIN ie refined cannabinoid complex, decarboxylated and cooked into coconut oil, and on top of that smoking a good few doobies and bowls a day. And the really weird part is: I never even seem to get high anymore. I can feel a bit better, more relaxed, but the sensation I used to recognize of being out of my normal self, goofy, whatever is gone, at least for now.

As for what that's meant my nauseau has been keeping under check, my activity levels are high, there's no impact showing based on external judgment. This stuff is working, and working far better than I expected, and there may be even more promise on the horizon for it... but that I will return to later.

The key to what I have to say here goes two ways: one, medical marijuana is far more effective than I expected. The level to which I feel shittier when I take a break or try to stop has been well established for me now, and I plan on keeping this high dosage for the length of my chemo. When I stop I get more strange neurological sensations, more headaches, more nauseous, and greater anxiety and tension. I initially told myself it was all psychosomatic effect, all in my head, but over time I've come to be convinced more and more: at least while I'm on chemo, I'm dependent on this stuff. So it goes.

I'm absolutely certain though that while that is helping, it's not the only thing letting me get through chemotherapy. Keeping my activity level up, and paying close attention to my diet has been huge as well. I've really tried to refine what I eat, avoiding processed food, refined carbs, and chemical additives. Over time my sensitivity has come up continually, and I have to get more and more picky. What I eat in a day now would be downright hilarious to what people saw me eating a few years ago. I'm all about smoothies, flaxseed, coconut oil, fish, fruit, nuts and veggies. Since starting, I've lost 25 lbs, yet I'm still holding to full health on all signs. I think it's more a side effect of diet refinement than a side effect of chemotherapy. Another piece of advice for anyone facing a similar situation: if you are taking oral chemo, I highly suggest buffering the pre-dosage no eat time zone. My last meal every day is by around 5 pm, I need to keep a real nice empty stomach to bring that drug into, and let it move through as quickly as possible. I also drink tons and tons of water, and I'm sure that's helping too.

Through the summer I let the doctors restrict my activity, and I think that's one of the biggest errors I've made on chemo. They told me to be extremely cautious about intracranial pressure, so I wasn't supposed to try too hard to do anything or exert myself too thoroughly. That led, through the summer, to a bit of a lazy Dave. I did get pretty damn chubby in the first month or so after finding out about it. Through the summer I wasn't 100% lazy, but my exercise was pretty much fishing, golf, and dog walks. I craved more activity, but I held myself back in my apartment, no gym, no high intensity fun stuff, just take it easy. Over time that got to me further and further, the golf and fishing were holding me together, but then my usual golf buddy took off out of town, and our boat broke down out of the mouth of the harbour, and we had to get towed into dock by the coast guard. That was on my birthday, and it was not ideal.

Between then and a couple weeks before now was the worst part of my treatment. I stayed inside, playing games and getting high, doing nothing with my time and going crazy inside myself. I allowed the limitations of my treatment to bring me to a level of existence that didn't feel far from the great fear I sought to avoid: disability. It took a while, but I finally sought to address that problem and take some action. It was time for Dave to get back to the country. On those terms I was granted an incredible boon of luck. This property we stumbled upon, 22 acres and a minihome, is absolutely phenomenal. The woods in behind are absolutely incredible, there are streams and ponds and natural beauty through the land, and it is an expansive project of physical labour that I can attend to until hell freezes over. It's getting back to this land that let my blog earn its name. And that's what's been up the last couple weeks. Quad rides, long hikes, traversing stream, GPSing property boundary and POIs for reference, planning development, fish ponds, wells, septic, dog pens, everything. I've rediscovered activity and feel a thousand times better. So much for the doctors restriction on activity levels, no more than 30 mins at a time, nothing high intensity. I never saw my oncologist more happy than when I told her how I was running the saw for 6 hours the day before, and had been hiking in the bush for hours the day before that. I was back to myself, I feel like myself again, and I'm going to be up to some interesting stuff around this lot. I look forward to making more posts about that more fun, less serious side of the story.

Taking all this as a path, at my last test, following 5 months of chemo my blood pressure last time was 92/65, my blood test was the best my doctor had seen all week, and I've got the biggest beard I've had to date. Something's working.

Some interesting things I've had cross my mind since making the association of these things being helpful to chemotherapy. Is it possible that by working my ass off outside for as much of the time as I could between finding out about the tumour and now I've helped keep it growing slowly? Does the marijuana mean more than its minor psychological effects? What's going to come of all this in the end?

I don't have final answers for those yet, but I look forward to finding them.

Anyways, I'm getting back outside.

A First Step Down a Long Road

Hello,

This is something I've been telling myself I'd do for a long time. I've been recommended it by a few people, doctors, friends, family, for different reasons at different times, but they've all resounded. What I've been experiencing in the past few years is something I should share: an experience that has changed my approach and understanding to life fundamentally, like I never thought possible. Three years and not so much longer ago I began a battle that made all those rugby games, fist fights and hard days of work feel like therapeutic relaxation. But fighting harder has done nothing but made me stronger so far, and that is the real point of this blog.

First though, for those who stumble upon here or who just don't know what's been going on, a brief summary of my medical story. A bit more than three years ago at a rugby practice, I caught a knee just right in my left temple. It wasn't very hard or anything, but it felt really strange and disorienting. Following that experience, two nights later, I was warming up for a B game against U de S, and suddenly out of nowhere I had my first ever seizure. That was an incredibly disorienting, confusing experience. I didn't even admit to myself what it was at the time, but instead shook it off and played through the first half of the game. They continued however, and began to stop me from attending school, and generally shaking me up. They got significantly worse when I drank as well (and I was a bit of a drinker). It took a long time to separate them from concussion symptoms, but after a couple weeks I flew home and went to the doctors. In the end, I was lucky that I had a medical family. My GP thought it was brain damage from concussions and didn't even intend any imaging. My Dad, however, owns a private MRI clinic and we scooted in there and got one done. That was where it really began. What was supposed to be a routine investigation of concussion impact turned into the discovery of a tumour. We didn't know at the time, but it's an Astrocytoma, and it was about the size of a golf ball, but shaped kind of like a globular figure eight. That sent the world into a spiral. Parents flying home from distant countries, mothers terrified and trying to look after me, but what I remember of my feeling was clear. I tried to confront the harsh truth of what I saw on that MRI as I was left to sit alone in the doctor's lab, as the stunned  neuroradiologists tried to piece together what they saw. As it was brought up on the screen I'd heard the "holy fuck" whisper from my mother, and seen the shock on their faces, and I knew  it wasn't good. That big lump in my brain looked to my eyes on that day like the face of death, a grim truth, inevitable for all, facing me in a more direct confrontational position. Sitting alone after that it felt clear what I had to do: embrace the harsh truth, and seek to seize the moment and live to the best of my ability the rest of my life, whether it be years, months, or weeks. While I struggled with that in the beginning, over time I've seized to that idea further and further, and nothing has helped me more. There were more medical challenges to come (surgery, epileptic stability, rebuilding myself after it all) but I will return to them later.

The message I hope to share over and above all else is that when facing the dark fears of life (death, disease, disability) hold to hope, hold to strength, and never give up your resolve. I've been walking around with a tumour in my brain for no one knows how long now, and the last three years I've been walking away from surgery, a brush with death, and a constant sense of the unknown. In that time I've learned many new things, worked my ass off across this country, earned my independence, and then in the end, returned to home.

And that's where this story shall begin: the realization of the need to return to medical care, to begin to confront this challenge more head on.

February. Near the end, I had a seizure. First time in ages for a daytime seizure, a minor one, but nonetheless a scary experience. An error in dosage? Then another. Another, another. They returned to me, I upped the dosage, they left, then they returned again. Something had changed.

April. I've finally been forced to stop working and admit to myself: this drug isn't going to conquer this. It's not the result of a mistake, things are changing. I'm late  for my MRI, I'm no longer epileptically stable, and it's time to walk back out onto that battlefield. On my way home I go...

The journey wasn't so bad, it was stressful flying my best friend and strongest ally in the cargo hold (Gotta love that Winston), but we both got home safe and sound. What came next though, was not so nice. We'd been thinking for years, telling ourselves, it wasn't growing. This MRI very solidly proved that wrong, and that it had been growing, slowly, all along. That combined with my epilepsy becoming unstable meant it was time for the next step of treatment. Now came the question: Chemotherapy or Radiation? Do I want to eat complex fancy poison for a year, or get my brain precisely nuked? Choosing the chemo was surprisingly easy. The radiation treatment will, if I have to use it, destroy my speech center inevitably. So, if it comes to that point I will be truly disabled, unable to communicate, and I'm far more scare of disability than death or pain... So chemo began.

That was 6 months ago. In that time I learned a lot about chemo, cancer,  and medicine. First, and foremost: CHEMO IS NOT AS SHITTY (ALWAYS) AS I EXPECTED! That is something I want to say and then prove, a message for anyone else entering that battle. I think if I'd spoke to someone whose experience of chemo compared with mine prior to beginning it, I would have felt a lot better from the beginning, much less fear and anxiety, and I actually would have cared for myself better by staying more active, more focused, and more positive. It tooks months of pushing against limits, finding a balance, and more than anything, finding that pulling back and disengaging from the parts of life I find meaningful, is far worse for my health than the physical toll of engaging an effort. In these past 5 months I have caught 75+ sharks, cut down a few cords of wood, broken in a quad, snorkelled and collected a meal of scallops, bought a house and 22 acres, surveyed it and begun developing it, and am now going further and further with this all the time.

That is the main story I'm going to tell. That will be the real point of this blog. Sharing the experience as it was, and as it is now. I will try to combine writing about my days, my new home, my life and my experience, sharing pictures and videos as much as I can, with retrospective stories about how I came here, what it's been like, and what it's meant to me.