something of a barnburner

time for some good news.

i had a PET scan a few weeks ago. what seems like years ago now.
no, sophia didn't have surgery. a PET scan is positron emission tomography scan. i know this because some pamphlet from the hospital tells me so.
a PET scan is just a fancy CT scan that uses nuclear medicine imagery. it measures body functions like blood flow, oxygen use and glucose metabolism to help the MDs take a guess at how well organs and tissues are functioning. in my case, organs that have been infected with the cancer beast.
anyway.
i peed in a cup and they said i wasn't pregnant and it was cool to proceed. if i had a dollar for every prego test i've taken in the past year, son, i'd make one stripper very happy.
next they injected small amounts of radioactive material in me. i'm quite sure that any amount of radioactive material is too much, but i really wasn't in a position to complain. after all, i needed to know if the cancer was still present.
so we waited a bit and i made smalltalk with this poor sap who was going to be looking at my innards and i'm sure he was praying i'd just shut my mouth. he started the scan using the CT machine which helps the MDs make their educated guesses more educated. i was told it was a PET/CT machine but i've had a hundred, maybe more, CT scans and i didn't see a difference in the machine. whatever, i'm no educated guesser. doctor. whatever. i'm neither.
the scan is a non-invasive procedure. i wasn't in the hospital for any amount of time. just long enough to be annoyed at having to wait. little did i know, i'd have to wait for effing weeks for the damn results. (i'd probably still be waiting because my "real" doctor is on vacation somewhere in mexico (again.) so i had to have a doctor at work call and get the results but whatever, that's beside the point.)
what's the point of this long-winded go-on-forever story? there's no sign of cancer in my body. this doesn't mean i'm cured. it's considered in remission. however. if it stays this way for a fiver, then i (and you) can say i'm cured.
so fuck you, cancer. fuck you.
and thank YOU for all your happy thoughts, support and amazingness.
the battle will never be over. it's always just begun.
but this little step is up and over.

Think hole.

Milk thistle.

Nap time is almost as good as running in the park.

Home defense.

Buying me my favorite lunch in celebration of this new phase of life. Some friends are simply irreplaceable, regardless of the miles between. Hip-hop hearts.

Changed the locks.

I bet this is good.

pork rind disco.

drew sent me a dozen dark chocolate kit-kat's.
if that's not true love, i don't know what is.

after hours.

adhesive causes me to go into anaphylactic shock.
but the boss makes sure to let me know when i'm headed into troubled waters.
even when he sends me packages full of stickers!

Long time coming.

less than one week after telling the boss i will never run again (unless running from something like a hungry lion, a man with a bigger gun than me, or creditors), tonight sophia and i ran.
about two miles, at that.

in my defense, it was raining.
in his defense, we left on our "walk" in the rain.

Botany of Desire.

you'll never know.

the only positive to feeling sickly.

Believe in magic.

A pile of agony and heartburn, extra jalapenos! Mmm.
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line em up.

eff you, faulty factory-installed theft system! no more evil lock outs!
my car now starts when i want it to.
this is amazing.
a celebratory sorta evening.
i had coffee.

caffeine is some sorta sin for cancerous folks, i'm told.
eff em.

still smilin.

for the win:
"yesterday you said if i wasn't resting you'd punch a kitten."
"but you didn't yesterday. KITTEN PUNCH!!!!!! it's like the hulk smash, but with more crying kittens and less green skin."

chance.

stolen. from somewhere.

A child came crying to his mother and complained that he has severe stomach-ache. She told him, “It is because your belly is empty. Come and have some food.” The child obeyed.

The next day the mother had a heavy head ache. The child consoled her, saying innocently, “Mommy, it is because your head is empty!”

On another occasion, the curious child asked his mother, “Mommy, why are some of your hairs turning grey?” She tried to use this occasion to reform him. “It is because of you, dear. Every bad action of yours will turn one of my hairs grey!” The child replied innocently, “Now I know why your mother has only grey hairs on her head.”

pool boys.

"washington is next."
"good."
"cancer slaying first."
"yeah slay that shit. i'll punch your cancer in the face if it don't leave you alone!"
"i effing believe that!"
"damn right! ha!"
"go for the nose..."
"i'm gonna punch your cancer so hard in the brain that all it can think about are my fists!"
"are you sure you're not really chuck norris?"

Tickled Pink.

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Once upon a moonshine.

Survived the unsurvivable. Thinkin about buyin some duct tape to celebrate.
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word play.

my everything hurts.
i'm covered in bruises.
there's still paint in my hair.
overall, it hurts to move. (haha. move? move. get it? anyway...)

but! i'm going to practice rugby. hopefully no hits to the head.
a vegetable medely isn't supposed to have a pulse.

memo.

dress shop.

The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it. ~C.C. Scott