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
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).