So, I finally have a sword…
The secret of being a bore… is to tell everything.
And yet, there I go. This is my blog, which no one reads, so I can go bonkers.
During a short hiatus, we (this is not a royal “We”, this “we” is actually we—my wife and I; I am not allowed to meet alone with the people who gave the Hippocratic Oath, for it is evident to everyone—but me—that I am chronically unable to understand them correctly) met with the team, treating me—A.K.A., The Mandarin Factory—several times.
At the first of these meetings (the negotiations with the pharmaceutical company that develops the immunotherapeutic drug my doctor decided to try on me since my current chemo cocktail was doing a much better job on the host than my Cancer Al tenant/pet, were at that time not yet complete) my doctor looked at the results of my blood test and became noticeably confused.
“Have you had a blood transfusion?” he asked, “I do not recall ordering one for you…”
He checked my file. I had not had a blood transfusion.
“But your numbers are within or even better than normal, how is this possible?”
I had no choice but to confess.
Recently—a week ago—on June 1st, 2017 and (as one of the countless apps I have on my phone informed me) the 20014th day of my life—I finally received full absolution to do whatever I wish.
I can drink (which I never stopped), smoke (which I stopped—not quit, mind you, stopped—eleven years, four months and four days ago to date, but can start over with no effort whatsoever*), talk (if I suddenly want to), leave the toilet seat in an upright position, touch art in museums, and cross the street on a red light.
I stumbled upon this picture on Unsplash and simply could not resist posting it. This is how Castle Stormhold should look from the shore, assuming the architecture of the castle itself is adjusted to fit my description and all the clouds are removed from the sky (it has been a drought there, so the air is extremely arid). Small details aside, the feel is, nevertheless, perfect.
Back to the title of this post, however (and trying to stay on-topic).
I could never figure out how to effectively challenge the cretinism of the question “please, rate your pain on a scale from zero to ten“.
Today I am 20,000 days old. That’s all I have to say.
Well, it is writing, of course, even if the procedural aspect of it is reduced to poking the keys on the iPhone’s keyboard (wrong ones more often than not, recently) with numb fingers (or picking more or less right keys with a stylus—while struggling to keep it from slipping out of my numb grip).
And yet the velocity of soiling the virtual paper with the magical symbols is not as important as deciding which they are and what they say. Continue reading “On The Writing Process (if what I do can be called that)”
This photo was taken on the western-most observation area of the Grand Canyon. This is the spot, where I would like my ashes to be… (whatever it is they do to ashes—scattered? spilled? tossed?). To end up, eventually. At sunset, preferably—the view is nicer.
The place is not that hard to find (I think we took a shuttle bus from the main parking lot), and it is much more beautiful than on this photo—it does not do it justice (much like all 500+ Grand Canyon photos I brought from that trip).
Just finished a scene and starting the next one: I am back to the Castle, where newly arrived Sir Alann and Sir Vernon (and the rest of the riders) are met by Verra, Marque, Veneammen and Northhill. This should be fun to write, for as long as I keep it short (right…) and make it advance the story further toward the final battle.
While figuring out ways to achieve said goal, I allowed myself a little treat in the form of brainless screen gazing, and, taking advantage of Netflix free promotional month of service, decided to check out the show which is praised as the best Netflix original show of all times: Stranger Things.
Continue reading “On Things Stranger and Strangerer”
Last Monday’s upper endoscopy showed that my tumor is NOT gone, as I was led to believe by my doctor earlier.
Now, another six sessions of chemo later—although it has decreased in size (by about 30% in the esophagus and 50% in the stomach area)—it is still pretty much there. Small wonder I still cannot swallow without chewing everything but drinks to mash.
It is happening! I have finally found a use for my pain enhancer. One more thing off the mantel (not without going back and fiddling with the chapter where it was first mentioned, but I think I managed to have the changes worked in smoothly). Go me.
I am now thinking about not killing one of the characters just yet. He is simply too potent to discard. I do realize, that once I do that, he shall be found sitting on that very mantel, dangling his feet and making funny faces at me, until I figure out how to use his abilities, but the challenge is on.