“What’s good?”

I have always liked the greeting, “What’s good?” It’s succinct. It’s hopeful. It intentionally invites responses that don’t have to be all about how busy the respondent is, or what a crappy day they’re having.

The Good

These days there’s a lot that’s good. I’m teaching again this semester (which is why I haven’t blogged here in a while). Today I thoroughly enjoyed cutting threads into 1/2″ steel rods to make quill feed handles for an old Powermatic drill press in my basement, and my hands still smell vaguely of cutting fluid. Big R and I have our tenth wedding anniversary coming up in 2020 (partay!). My mom is coming to visit for Thanksgiving. I bought a Tesla Model 3 and, despite never really being a “car guy,” I get an absurd about of joy from driving it. I just started my fifth round of chemo which is not, in and of itself, good. But, the fact that it’s the fifth of six total rounds is very good. Aaaaand…drumroll, please…I just got my 3rd clean MRI last week!

The Less Good

There’s also some stuff that’s not good, and I’d be sugar-coating things if I didn’t mention it. I’ve noticed changes in my memory. It’s become harder for me to remember what day I did something in the last week. I’ll put down a tool in the kitchen, lose track of it, and then spend a minute or two hunting for it. (And, our kitchen’s not that big.) The other day I had two seizures.

“Seizure” is kind of a strong word that conjures images of convulsions and/or loss of consciousness. My seizures just consist of numbness/tingling progressing through the fingers on my left hand and then immediately into my face – typically my cheeks, lips, and tongue. And then, usually in 5 – 15 minutes it’s all over. Oddly, I used to get the exact same symptoms in advance of debilitating migraines as a child and a young adult. I guess you could say my brain and I have a long and storied history.

My neuro oncologist assures me that all of the less good stuff is to be expected. In fact, he would be extremely surprised if I told him I was experiencing no deficits whatsoever. And, at the same time, he reminded me that I’m one of his top 5 patients. That patients like me who do research, commit to difficult dietary interventions, and are willing to throw everything and the kitchen sink at this disease are the ones with the best outcomes. Now, that’s good!