I've been avoiding the harsh reality of my medical condition for several weeks now, and it was brought to my attention yesterday afternoon as I was eating my lunch and perusing a local medical newspaper.  An article about melanoma mentioned a new drug (one that I unfortunately do not have the genetic makeup to benefit from) - and how it was increasing the life span of patients with metastatic melanoma.  According to this article, the current prognosis of patients with metastatic melanoma is between 6-10 months.

6 to 10 months.

I have not slept a wink all night.

If this is correct, and yes, it seems to be true... what do I do?

I am healing up ok, back to work for a week now, still in pain and have a post-op infection, but every day is a little better.  I see my oncologist in 4 days, and these are certainly questions for him... but he is not really good at giving me a straight answer.

If I truly have less than a year to live, do I continue working?  Or do I cash in my 401K, file for disability, and travel the world while I still can?  Is this really happening to me?  I feel like I should be writing my life story right about now.  What am I leaving behind, besides some stories of a few cool parties and some sad friend and family members?  I've got no kids, minimal savings, no major accomplishments, no Wikipedia page, and all kinds of loose ends.  I don't have a will, and don't even really have any shit to PUT in a will!  I have enough life insurance to not burden anyone with my funeral, but... my life is going to be more significant than this, right?

RIGHT?

My good news of this weekend is that Friday morning, there was a person sleeping on my patio when I woke up to go to work.  It was my brother, who I had not seen in almost 3 years.  From 1500 miles away, he came out of the woodwork to make peace with me.  At least if I go soon, it will be without the pain of never seeing my brother again.  It's Father's Day today, and I can feel Dad smiling down from Heaven and happy about this.  As a family, we have some more forgiving to do with each other, but maybe if I do go this year, I will at least have helped to bring the Colbys back together.  We're a crazy bunch, but we're good people.

So, Gentle Readers, I ask you... if given a year to live (even if I am wrong, and I do hope I am)... what would YOU do?  I need advice.

Post-Op

My surgery was two days ago, and although I am feeling a bit better than when I arrived home, I still am incredibly achy all over.  I must have bitten my tongue while intubated, because the tip is numb.  I really hope that this is a temporary nuisance - though it would definitely cause some weight loss in the long run because eating anything except popsicles is almost impossible!

The incision is not nearly as ugly as I expected.  It is at the base of my neck, from the area below the chin to just behind my right ear.  Should heal up nicely, and I have some time to come up with a bitchin' story about a knife fight or a shark attack.  I do, however, have this crazy looking drain stuck into my shoulder that dangles 2 or 3 feet down and has attached to it what appears to be a hand grenade full of scary, dark brown liquid.  I have to empty it twice a day, and it's leaky.  I'm going through about 5 T-shirt changes a day.  Since this will be in until I see the surgeon again in 10 days, I am wondering how I am going to hide this at work.  As much as Lo loves me, he draws the line at messing with it.  I don't blame him!  I guess I'll just bring lots of extra sets of dark colored scrubs, and hope for the best.  I have 5 more days off, anyways.  I just can't afford to take off more time.

My friends and family have been amazingly supportive, for the most part.  You definitely find out who your real friends are in situations like this.  My mom arrives in a few days, and I can't wait to see her.  Some other people just don't know how to react to bad news, I guess.  The ones who owe me money are the most ... disturbing.  I have never needed it more, and I shouldn't have to ask for it more than twice.   But I'm staying positive and focusing on the good in people.  And holy crap, do I know a lot of good people.

My dreams are crazy, and are probably being fueled by pain meds and lots of sleep.  Last night I dreamt that my car hit a ramp and I ended up on the top of a water tower - and then it toppled over the edge.   Lo and I just stood there, looking down at my car, flat as a pancake.  The rental place would not give me a car, because I had been in one too many wrecks.  Gary showed up in a Roseanne Barr costume and let me borrow the car he had just rented.  I know!  WTH?  Don't you love how dreams make perfect sense while they are going on?

Well, I'm off to read the People Magazine that lovely Brenda brought me last night, change my shirt, and have another popsicle.  Not much more to Blob about today, but I will continue to keep you posted.  I am again so grateful for the wonderful people in my life.  I am staying strong for you. :)