29

29 months since diagnosis today. I suppose at some point I'll stop counting. Today's milestone actually almost did pass without notice.
29 was also the number of Rod Carew. One of the best hitters in baseball in the 70s and 80s. He spent most of his career with the Minnesota Twins.(He's in the Hall of Fame, almost hit .400 once or twice, and converted to Judaism).

I've been working all week. I was pretty tired earlier in the week but as we've gone on, I've felt better and felt my energy coming back.  Plus no fevers and sweats in a few days. Perhaps it was a virus.  Tomorrow is Dr Phan and Friday is Dr Berenson. By Friday I'll know what's up. I do a lot of lab work. Typically I want those results ASAP. Particularly with my monthly labs, I really want the results in a hurry.  This week, however, I haven't called to check my results. I'm waiting. We did a whole cement truck load of tests. So instead of getting results piecemeal. I'm waiting to get them all at once.

Earlier this week, Leslie and I were talking about a person we know and about their thoughts on how people should deal with cancer. The first I thought was that this person doesn't know a lot about cancer and cancer patients.  The more I thought about it, I realized I probably had the same thoughts about cancer before I was diagnosed and before I met so many amazing survivors.  Cancer is not at all what I imagined.  Patients function. They do more than function, they thrive. Not everyone obviously, but folks do their darned best to live extra-normal lives.

As I've thought about getting my test results. I've got myself prepared for good or not so good. I can picture my reaction.  If I've been battling a virus, my reaction will likely be "hot damn!". And then I'll get myself ready to restart my fitness and stay ahead of myeloma program. I haven't done anything physical in almost two weeks and I feel like a loose piece of flab.  I'm also prepared to say "aint that a bitch" if it is the myeloma. And then I'll tell myself it's time to tighten the chin strap, put on my big boy pants and kick some ass. I've also been watching my mental state from an external perspective. I've noticed I've had a surge of change over the past couple of weeks. Turns out I am more direct, more honest and less likely to accept bullshit. My own and others bullshit.  In other words and to put it more bluntly, I've noticed that I might have adopted a bit more of a dickish attitude. I can't explain it, but I think for me the anxiety is manifesting in a harsher attitude. Make sense? Maybe not, but it's what I'm feeling.

And this takes me back to what people expect from cancer patients. Sympathy, sad looks are not needed. I'm loaded for bear and even more ready to fight...whether I stick with my current maintenance program or go to something else. Helpless? No. Victim? No.