How am I doing? Well, I’m doing fine. Hell, today I suited up in full leathers and rode my sled around Atlanta on a perfect sunny, brisk, Fall afternoon.

Chemo was five days ago. I feel like shit for about three days after treatment but improve quickly beyond that. I see people out and about all the time. I look great (I’m told) — good color, energetic, positive. I must be doing really well. I believe that I am. I believe it with an intensity that may will it to be so.

I thought Rusty looked great; sounded great. He and I could beat this cancer.

Rusty died a few days ago — right around that damn 14 month statistic. Writing a bit about him now stirs up powerful emotions and contemplations in me.

Rusty and I pointing to each-others surgery wounds.

GBM brought Rusty and I together at the end of 2011. I’m pretty sure it was his mom that found my blog and connected us because of our similarities (age, diagnosis, surgery, etc.). Rusty’s grand mal seizure was about a month after mine.

His mom was right. Connecting us was a good thing. It’s valuable for me to speak with anyone going through a similar journey. But to have another dude, my age to really, really talk to and compare notes is so much more. Rusty and I hit it off and became brothers.

Rusty didn’t live in Georgia, but I was able to meet him in person while he was visiting Atlanta. Rusty was a proud father. He was generous in every way. He gave a lot of love. And his salutation of preference was “cheers.”

Love to Rusty’s family from Tina and I.

It’s been exactly one week since my last Avastin/Irinotecan infusion. I’ve been feeling very good. I’m on the same treatment plan that I was on for the last couple months but I seem to be handling it better so far — no abdominal pain; I have energy and appetite; things are good.

I was inspired by the success of another GBM survivor (over two year survivor) and I am now following the Budwig plan (flaxseed oil and cottage cheese quark diet) more strictly. Tina’s making me healthy green smoothies daily. I’m back to not eating red meat and am avoiding the whites: sugar, rice, potatoes, bread, pasta, etc. I get lots of exercise. I continue my spiritual exploration. My attitude and mindset are nothing but positive for myself. I do worry about the state of affairs for everyone else though — the crap foods being provided to us by stores and restaurants.

Tina and I have been reading a book by Greg Anderson titled, Cancer: 50 Essential Things To Do. We are both connecting with it and I recommend it if you’re dealing with cancer.

All Hallows’ Eve

Tina and I at our front door. That’s our everyday door-knocker in the background — not a Halloween decoration.

It’s just entertainment reading from here.

Last week, I was chatting with a neighborhood boy (about 6 years old) about Halloween. He commented on how scary some of the (store-bought) tombstones, (plastic) skeletons, (sheet) ghosts and (blow-up) spiders were in the neighborhood. He asked why we didn’t have a bunch of decorations up, too. I told him we don’t “decorate” for Halloween. I warned that it will be “real” at my house on Halloween and not to come by unless he wants to get scared. (He scoffed at this.)

I hand painted a sign on rotten wood to help route trick-or-treaters. My jack-o-lantern had a big flame that occasionally burned green from copper sulfate. A strobe light illuminated saws and hooks dangling in my garage. Glenn Danzig’s Black Aria provided the aural landscape. My “scary zone” was further up the driveway than the front door where Tina handed out treats. Several people stopped to look but then skipped our house to go to the neighbors’. Maybe our set up was confusing — or, maybe too questionable (i.e., super spooky).

It was good and dark when that boy came by our house and he was ahead of his father. I hid in the garage behind the saws. Before he knocked on the front door, I made some noise that caught his attention. I made some haunting monster growls and reveled in satisfaction as he ran away warning his dad that it was too scary. Success!

I’m not sure if my lesson to him will translate to appreciating creativity over the convenience of mass-production but, in a way, that was my motivation (that and having fun scaring kids).