Tomorrow is the anniversary of Cycle 1, Day 1 of chemotherapy. And I don't have a lot to say about it that I haven't said already. It's a horrible medicine, but it's what's keeping me alive and going on adventures. At this point, there's simply no me without it, and that's just a fact I have no choice but to accept, and that's fine.
Last year, late at night, after the PICC had been inserted (one year anniversary today), after I'd had my little walk down to the breakwater and gazed lovingly into the void where either Wasaga Beach should be, or where the sun just departed from, I returned home and took these two pictures. Pictures I did not intend to share. Pictures just for me, so I could track how the disease and the treatment were affecting my body.
Honestly, a year later, I expected a much, much, more dramatic change. Chemo is one of those drugs that really scales with your bodyweight, so I know for a fact, from the exact same calibrated scale, that I have varied by about a kilogram this whole time (2.2lbs). But the photos match the scale. The change is largely in the hair, not the body.
From the comments
James Petrosky: For clarity, the photos with green hair and the blue shirt are from 2022, roughly 12 hours before first chemo. The photos with the cool Michael Myers shirt are from 2023.
Across Ontario there are several outcrops where you can see the precambrian-paleozoic nonconformity. One of these is approximately 3km West of Burleigh Falls, Ontario, on Peterborough Road 36.
A nonconformity is a missing part of the geological column where sedimentary rock was deposited on a crystalline igneous or metamorphic rocks. Here our igneous rocks are from the Grenville province of the Canadian Shield, and our middle Ordovician rocks are from the Gull River and Shadow Lake formations (part of the Simcoe group). The point of contact between these rocks represents approximately 550 million years of missing geological history, the Ordovician rocks are only 450 million years old.
I said I was going to give you coordinates for the site. After seeing it, and comparing it to what Google StreetView has from a few years ago, I'm not going to do that. Tourist erosion is a real problem in hobby geology. It shouldn't take long for anyone interested to locate the outcrop with this information. If you find yourself there, please respect those who will come after you, and please don't be a nuisance to the people who live nearby.
Join me as I walk the length of the main dyke at Tiny Marsh. We see sandhill cranes, great blue herons, swans, some ducks and geese and a whole lot of frogs.
The first half, we talk about the wildlife, the marsh, and stories I have about these creatures. On the way back, we talk about Meg 2: The Trench and other magnificently stupid movies.
This is shot with a head mounted camera, so the camera moves a lot and is shakier than is idea.
This is the anniversary of when I started this album. I'm not sure what I thought I was doing then, but eventually I found my comfort zone relating my experiences with the medical system - the administrative side and the treatment side. This was a comfortable place through chemotherapy, and honestly an exciting one for me to be in through surgery. But I've struggled a bit since then.
I thought it was just that surgical recovery was boring (and it is), but chemotherapy was the same two week cycle sixteen times, and I never felt this way about it. I still talk nonstop about my cancer, as any of you who know me in person, or are in the same Facevook groups, can attest. But I haven't been able to figure out this place.
I think the reason is that, in light of my failed surgery and prognosis, the only place it made sense for me to go was do the same kind of day by day thing, but instead of it being about getting the full cancer trearment experience at 35, it's about grappling with mortality at 36 and, statistically, dying at 37.
Mental health wise, I'm just coming down from a minor hypomanic episode and feel stable, bipolar wise. My lithium levels are good. If asked how I'm doing, I'd truthfully answer "good, given the circumstances," but I can't tell you if that means I'm doing good.
I'm not an actor, though, when you see a look of delight on my face, that's real. I do have an actual notebook with an actual list of neat stuff to do and I am actually crossing things off on all my little adventures. I'm getting out and experiencing the world. Probably doing way more than I ever would have if I remained otherwise healthy, too, which is a thought too terrifying to contemplate.
To end, because it's been haunting my dreams and hopefully sharing will help, if someone, someday, talks about my death bed conversion, know that they are a disgusting fiend who takes advantage of the vulnerable to glorify themselves. If disease progression or treatment leaves me vulnerable earlier than that, same logic applies. These people were never able to convince me so far, I doubt they'll come up with something compelling in the next few years. I doubt I'm interesting or notable enough to receive this treatment, but I know it happens, so I know I'm not 100% unreasonable in my fears.
Outside Bala, Ontario, searching for its Bog Beast (visible in far background)
When I bought it, I thought it was a cat, I now realize it's a hamster. My first pets were a pair of hamsters, who's claws terrified me so much I barely held them. And now I have a cat who walks up and bites me for unknown feline reasons, we change so much
At Balm Beach, arcade, store and restaurant visible as bright lights
Recording videos at the marsh
Goose friend!
Suspect beaver (at Kirkfield lift lock)
Mystery door, Collingwood
Rainbow trout, Thornbury
Old historical rail bridge, Thornbury
A cool evening, down by the bay
Most antique shop booths are dragon's hoards of shiny things, thrown together. This one was a beautiful room (ft [Lilly]({tag}Lilly))
Is he looking at me?
State of the Moustache
Memento mori
At the restaurant in Balm Beach (I had what they called an Austin Cheese Steak, which i assume is a regular cheese steak with Texas grilling traditions. I have no idea, it was delicious though)
I'm stoned in some of these pictures, but not this one, no matter how it looks.
10/10, only note is that I wanted more giant octopus
I can tell the chemo really effected me because it's above 30C here, there's no shade for 2km, I've already been outside for half an hour, and I'm just comfortable.
From the comments
James Petrosky: 37 is an estimate. I don't want anyone who knows me well enough to start doing math on my birthday and panicking. 38 is probably a better estimate, but 37 fits the flow a lot better, and it's all statistics based on regular colon cancer anyways
James Petrosky: I want to dramatically say "from here on in its all about death" but honestly it's been that way for a while. You have no idea how happy the "thinking about death" joke in Barbie made me, because a) it was funny, and matched my mental state perfectly and b) gave me a lot of cover to joke about it all summer. So thank you, Uncontrollable Thoughts of Death Barbie, you're a life saver.
James Petrosky: Somewhat related to liars for Jesus are liars for other spiritual causes. Mediums, channelers, seyances, ghost hunters, it's all evidence free nonsense, and they do tremendous harm to people undergoing grief by giving them a false hope that can never, ever be realized. If there is somehow an afterlife that can communicate back to the living, I promise you I'll never, ever give these dangerous frauds the time of day. I can be a stubborn person, and this is the thing I'm most stubborn about, so you can be sure I'll hold to it.
Because we live in something approaching a techno dystopia, it's possible to train a large language model on someone's social media history to create a computer program that can write and speak like you can. Maybe there's not enough information available for me. Almost certianly I'm not important enough for this treatment. But if this is done, and it's done well enough to be convincing, the output program is also not me. It's just an actor, playing a role. The same as a spiritualist, they just learn their script from different sources.
I miss my long hair, and my green hair, and especially the few days it was blue hair. I did a thing I'd half heartedly wanted to do for a decade, and I'm glad I did. It's nice that not everything in my Facevook memories is an emotional timebomb I've got to work through.
I poured out everything that remained of my alcohol collection today. I've known my body can't really take it anymore for over a year, and by surgery time knew with medical certainty that there was no outcome that would make it safe for me to have. I think part of me was still hoping for a reckless glass of celebratory scotch that was never going to happen. And now cannot happen.
You mourn life and normalcy in fits and starts. I haven't felt much since I got home in July. But it's September now, the tourists are leaving, the season is changing, and the geese are practising Vs. It's a reflective sort of time for me, and pouring it all out hits a much more raw nerve than I expected.
From the comments
James Petrosky: I've definitely mentioned it before, but it fits well here.
After academia and I had a pretty rough falling out (undiagnosed, dangerously wrongly treated bipolar disorder played a part), I had no idea what to do with myself. I spent a couple years temping and working retail, and knew that wasn't for me. But it taught me I liked people. And like a lot of hipster types at the time (2012-2014jsh), I got into making drinks.
Over the next few years I made all the drinks at gatherings and family events, and really enjoyed the experimentation and adventure of it.
I started work at my final employer in 2015, as a temp. I didn't know if I was going to make another try and grad school, finish the courses I needed for a geology designation, or try my hand at mixology school. And becoming a bartender was more than just a passing fancy (although it may have been just a bipolar/ADHD fancy).
Obviously I didn't do it, and not regret that decision. But getting rid of these bottles is getting rid of something that was once very important to me.
James Petrosky: I've written a lot of morbid and depressing shit over the last year, and this may be the first time it's pure mourning, without a hint of anxiety, terror or anticipation thrown in.
James Petrosky: (I actually kept a full bottle of pisco I bought in Peru, I don't know why, if I haven't drank it in ten years, I probably never was going to, but some things are too hard
Ryan: Man, of all the things you’ve posted, this has been the most . . . like really reckoning with things, at least as I’m parsing it.
I know you’re not a person of faith, and I am not one any longer, but the feeling I have toward you in this moment is one I only have words for in a faith based context, and I don’t know how to say them in a way that doesn’t rely on a fantasy. But I’m going to try here, so please forgive any weird phrasing:
I feel the echo of your heart within me.
James Petrosky: Ryan I've tried and failed three times at a response, so instead all just say thank you.
Ryan McGill: James Petrosky it’s all good, friend. I find myself in the same situation with many of your posts, but this one connected in a way that I couldn’t just leave a reaction. And with what we know about human memory, I think I’m going to carry it with just about every glass I raise.
James Petrosky: The fucking wild thing is that I actually wanted to talk about being off work for a year, because we're 6 hours away from that. But it's recycling this week, and decided I wanted to dust the bottle shelf. And here we are. Nothing is ever planned, things just happen because the universe is chaotic and impenetrable and beautiful.
James Petrosky: Because I'm having Something Of A Day, I went and broke into my forbidden song vault and listened to Kettering by The Antlers. And that was very dumb of me. The vault has been resealed.
I was writing a post about the evils of complementary and alternative medicine and my power went out 😮
Coincidence? I mean, yeah, probably, those fiends are too busy finding cancer patients to take advantage of
From the comments
James Petrosky: Got an issue with my fundamental point here? I encourage you to go do some good quality research. I'm not available to argue about to ❤️
James Petrosky: If it makes you feel better, new agers and faith healers are similarly problematic. Also not debating this.
Ron: Not enough is made of the fact that people who push that crap are actively preventing people who need real help from getting it in time to matter. Evil indeed.
James Petrosky: Ron I was reading my memories and it apparently took less than a day for the algorithm to serve up this kind of stuff to me. Skepticism has long been one of my interests, so I'm okay, but not everyone would be
I was so anxious, yet excited, to meet my oncologist the next day. We were going to get a real prognosis, rather than trying to get one sort of doctor to give me expertiese from another's specialzation. We were going to leran about treatment planning, about return to work timelines. We were going to learn how to traverse the death crypt that is the cancer ththat resided in me, and get back into the sun, where I could laugh and picnic with facncy cheeses and pickles and little sandwiches.
Of course, cancer is no more a horseman of the apocalypse, no seahorse waiting to destry all. And you're just as likely to run into that death, embracing as friends, in the brightest sun as you are darkest cave.
Given that there are fewer than 24 hours until I meet my oncologist, I'm going to go back to the CUTE ANIMAL PHOTOS well because holy fuck I have an anxiety disorder and I didn't understand anxiety could be so bad
The comments comtain dozens of posts featuring people's pets and wild animals
