There I was, just a few days ago, trying to organize some of my bigger, clunkier files on my computer.
My g-f draws a certain mix of horror and amusement from the fact that I need to store all the crap I have ever looked at on the desktop of my computer.
I was about to change all that. But it was one of those situations where I had to make things worse before I made them better.
So I wrangled up all my videos, all my music and all my pictures and slapped them into 3 different folders on my desktop and tried to burn them on to cd.
And, my burner has been acting a bit strange lately so when it didn’t work, I didn’t really think anything of it.
And, of course, it may be completely unrelated that I slammed about a billion gigabytes of crap on my desktop and an hour later my computer ran to the bathroom, choked quietly, and gave up the ghost.
Here is a pop quiz, oh gentle reader.
Do you think that someone who stores all their data on their desktop is conscientous enough to do thorough and timely back ups of their system?
Because the answer in this situation is, of course I didn’t, you great ninny.
Why would I?
What’s the worst that could happen?
All this is my great big drawn out long winded way of saying I lost a lot of data and any and all e-mail that came or went since August.
And that’s okay with me, but if you wrote me since August and had never written me before, or not for a long time, then I no longer have your e-mail address.
How do you like them apples?
If you think you are one of these sorts of peeps, then drop me a line and I will put your lovely self back in my address book.
On other fronts, I do bloodwork on Wednesday and then chat with Dr. Oncologist. Then I do my chemo treatment on Friday,(hopefully my last treatment).
The day after Remembrance Day.
That seems appropriate somehow.
Everything feels really good and I am really optimistic about how it is going and how it will continue to go.
And I am struggling to not get too far ahead of myself or of reality.
You know, just because I am feeling good and about to do my last treatment doesn’t mean Daktari won’t say, “Spike, we think you are just the swellest little patient and we’d like to get to know you even better. Please say you will come back and join us in the chemo room for a few more treatments.”
I don’t know what he will say.
I know I feel really good, all things considered.
And I know that, statistically speaking, it’s a really strong possibility that I will be asked to hop up into the big Lazy-boy of toxicity again.
So… I am trying to just deal with what I know today.
Today I am feeling pretty good.
I think the acupuncture is helping a lot.
But you all know that, whatever way it goes, I am going to continue to bend your ear, or strain your corneas or whatever body part I can torment.
That’s what I will do.
As a sidebar, while my computer was in its own coma, I read both of the Lance Armstrong books, “It’s Not About the Bike” and “Every Second Counts”.
That was an interesting read.
For anyone who doesn’t know (because I didn’t until someone pointed me in this direction for a little info and a small dose of optimism), Lance Armstrong was a world-class cyclist and then he was diagnosed with testicular cancer.
When they did some testing, they realized his cancer had spread to his lungs and his brain.
And basically, that’s a rather grim situation.
He had two surgeries and a nasty, nasty whack of chemo therapy and beat the odds and went on to win the Tour de France 5 times.
He also went on to start the Lance Armstrong Foundation .
It looks like they do a lot of good advocacy work and a lot of lobbying for research money. It looks good from where I sit, but since I am not an American, I don’t know whether they are succeeding with their goals.
I can say that the site has been a really great psychological resource for me.
If you have been following along in your programme at home, you may have noticed that the stats for my particular type of cancer are pretty lousy. A while back I pretty much decided that it was stupid for me to read too many websites or be on too many e-mail lists that deal with ovarian cancer because I would get so spectacularly bummed out by what I read.
The stories from the survivors on LAF.org really helped me stay in the game.
I have no idea whether Lance Armstrong is a complete wanker bastard, but he sure helped me by having those stories from survivors, and he gets full marks from me for that.
And another note for those keeping track… I did NOT win the Corvette in the early bird draw of the Cancer agency lottery.
I am holding out for my mansion in the British Properties.
The Scottish Eyebrow fell to its death the day after the picture below was taken.
R.I.P. little Scottish Eyebrow. You stood by me when all the other eyebrows jumped ship.