Another Monday, another day of radiation.  It's so easy: I just go in, they clamp my head to the table, blast me for about 15 minutes, and then I'm done for the day.  I'm home by 9.  My regimen is anti-emetics at 6:15, Temodar (chemo) at 7:15, radiation at 8:15.  Then I'm done for the day.  All-in-all, not a bad deal.  It's something of a hassle to get up and out of the house in the morning, but I have a friend who is also doing radiation, so we carpool.  (Hell, seems like half my friends are dealing with one sort of serious medical issue or another.  Sucks getting old.)

The alternative to getting old, of course, is what I'm staring at.  It's really weird looking death in the face and yet not feeling the least bit of strong emotion about it.  I worry about the spouse (who does not deserve to be widowed now or ever!), and of course the rest of my family and friends.  I think (but do not know) that there will be some sadness.  But I won't feel it.

But I'll be fine.  I haven't intentionally played Pascal's wager, but I have tried to live a good life.  If there be something after this, and if there be a just god, then I don't feel like I have anything to fear.  (Of course, I could be wrong, but death-bed conversions never seemed like something a just God would really like.)

If there's not, I surely haven't anything to fear: I will ceased to be, and nothing can touch me.

So there.  Suck it, death.

This blogging thing is sort of interesting.  I can't recall the writer who said it, but he (or she) wrote "How do I know what I think until I see what I say?"  I feel a lot of that.  Most of this is me processing some fairly unusual shit (at least in my experience), and there's a fair bit of soul-searching and thinking that seems appropriate.

On the other hand, I'm not sure how generally interesting it is.  I'm going to try to avoid politics (which, to those who know me, will seem a monumental task -- at it is), and try to muse on life, death, friends, love, caring, and what it means to be a human.

I've been asked over the years what I think the purpose of life is.  Different churches will give you different responses, but after having done a lot of thinking about it, I still think the answer is "to be happy."  There really can't be anything more important than that, as far as I can tell.  In Catechism we learned "to love and serve God."  I'm sure many other faiths have similar justifications for our existence.  But being the scientist, I have to consider natural explanations for things.

It's interesting to be spiritual but not religious, to be spiritual but also completely naturalistic.

Other day I was thinking of John Donne's Meditation XVII (from his Devotions on Emergent Occasions) and how that has stuck with me as long as I can remember, during times I was a believer, but more interesting to me is how closely I have held on to it as a non-believer.

This experience has only reinforced it.  All the wishes of support I'm getting from friends and colleagues has touched me in a way I never, ever would have seen coming.  It has been powerful, and deeply felt.  Some of the people who have touched me the most deeply I've never ever met in meat-space, but only know them through the blogging community.  But they have my back, and a wealth of knowledge and personal experience to share with me, and it has buoyed me far beyond anything I could have imagined.

So thank you, one and all.  I don't think I'd be feeling this brave were it not for you all.  And the crackerjack medical team I have working to help me.  :)

Speaking of, I have to write a post soon about my wonderful (seriously!) experience at KU Medical Center.  Those folks are amazing, and as my wife said, every nurse and aide -- male or female -- who cared for me was "young and beautiful."  And witty, and smart, and oh-so competent.  I honestly had a great 5 days there.  (Of course, I was also medicated far beyond my usual limits and might have laughed even more because of that.)  But t was genuinely fun.  Yeah, there were those times when I was shitting myself uncontrollably and they were the essence of poise and good humor as they tried to stem the flow and clean me up.  But wow.  What a dedicated, smart, caring group of young people they are.

Nurses are my heroes.  Always have been, and always will be.  Sure, docs are important and all, but nurses do patient care.  And these did it unimaginably well.  I wish I knew who they all were so I could send them cards or something, or go visit and give them a hug and they could see how well I'm doing and what their hard work has done.

Okay, enough for now.  Chores.  To quote the spouse, "You still have two good arms and legs."  Reckon I need some sort of cancer of the legs and arms to get a break around here.  ;)

Ciao, all.  More anon!