Up until the October 21st ct-scan done on my head that determined a presumably cancerous, rapidly growing golfball-size tumor in my brain, my general state of health, medically speaking, was determined to be good. But after the brain surgery done three days later, it was confirmed that I am afflicted with an aggressive variant of brain cancer called GBM, or Glioblastoma Multiforme. It's an open question as to whether treatment strategies like chemotherapy or radiation will arrest the GBM development or reduce it, but I've been enthusiastic about going along with the prescribed program. So far, my adverse reactions to treatment...mainly radiation...have been brain inflammation and headaches, partially remedied by steroid capsules and OTC capsules like extra-strength Tylenol. But I'm still susceptible to getting tired over the course of a typically long day, and on weekdays I usually spend a substantial amount of time with Melissa meeting doctor and radiation therapy appointments at UF Health. Doctors like my oncologist and the skillful surgeon who operated on my brain encourage me to be physically active while listening to my body in a cautionary way. I've already scaled back my running training, avoid gym treadmills and show up consistently to Saturday morning Parkrun 5K events in which walking takes center stage, usually with Melissa and me. Still, it can be a matter of testing my will power to cover the race's course from start to finish. At home, I have been using my living room floor...with a lot of rug covering...to exercise while watching TV and dutifully record my times spent in Zone One movement. Today I covered (virtually) the equivalent of 4.4 miles before finally calling it a night.
The medical authorities say I'm sick with an aggressive variety of brain cancer and the prognosis for a reasonable number of years ahead to live is limited and subject to how my brain responds to the prescribed treatment regimen. Yet, by all acounts, I do well with blood tests and vital signs. I have a good appetite and food gets easily digested and passes though my body without trouble. I don't know how much time I have remaining on Earth before my body dies...or the Earth around me from my own subjective point of view. That far-reaching video by the alternative rock band My Chemical Romance titled Welcome to the Black Parade vividly presents this notion, and I recommend it if only to broaden your perspectives. Just copy and paste the title, once you're on YouTube, into the site's search engine. It is , in my opinion, that band's crowning achievement and can really bring on the tears for how the singer deeply honors his father. As for my own life, I'll just carry on, although at this stage it seems like I'm in a decaying orbit, destined to burn up and crash. Let sustained life and quality of life be my true destination, both short and long term...
