Happy 2 years to ME!

11:00pm. I tend to get carried away when writing blogs, so I'm writing the time down for my own good to keep track of exactly how carried away I get. I made a deal (with myself obviously, as I find myself particularly easy to get along with) that I would try to be in bed by 10:00pm each night. Clearly I've already failed that (as I do most nights) so let's just keep 'er goin'!

11:03pm. As the title of this post would imply it is my two year anniversary! Of marriage? No, something much more painful than marriage. BRAIN SURGERY!!! See how I implied marriage was painful there? It is fun to do that. Also note that such an implication doesn't omit the possibility that marriage is truly awesome and I love my wife more than anything in the whole wide world? Very observant of you! To those of you in the background whispering "nice save", I can hear you and I don't appreciate it.

11:05pm. Yes indeed, two years since that day. November 26th, 2010. That was the date my skull was cut open and a portion of the inside of my head was cut out! I remember it like it was something I can't remember at all (which is probably a very good thing). I do remember being in a hospital bed for some time afterwards. I remember having to "relearn" using my own legs to walk (and finding that pesky "left arm" that was never where it should have been). NOTE: I don't recommend elective brain surgery, but to those of you spending hoards of your life savings on detrimental body-harming drugs like heroin or perhaps crystal meth... you can get a serious trip when parts of your body aren't where you think they are or should be... I'm just saying.

11:10pm. Then there was the whole "taking radiation and chemotherapy" thing. The radiation lasted a month or so, with only a partial loss of hair (though none of my underlying rugged good looks... see earlier posts for entertaining stories about when the "stuffing falling out of my own pillow" turned out to be my own hair! It sounds creepy because it was!!!). I've been going through subsequent rounds of chemotherapy on a near-monthly basis. Actually it is a 28 day cycle where I spend 5 days on chemo, and then 23 days off of it. For a long time I was on a drug called Accutane (read earlier posts about the joys of taking that drug) for the first 21 days of the cycle. This meant 5 days of feeling not-so-great (and 21 of feeling less than perfect) with 7 whole days to enjoy the benefits of not taking any medications!* *Other than the 5 or so I always took to: prevent possible seizures, reduce the swelling in my brain, reduce the stomach acid from taking so many pills. What I'm saying is that I now know how to count in milligrams :)

11:16pm. Sweet. I'm averaging less than 5 minutes per rambling paragraph. At this point I'll be in bed by midnight (having said nothing at all), or up until 5am next Tuesday (getting my main points across). So... 2 years!!! YAY!!! Ok, sort of. It all sounds impressive right? That's probably because at first I was given perhaps weeks to 3 months to live (worst case) or up to a year (best likely case). As those of you who know me best will know, in my first year of dealing with my unfriendly brain-residing cells, I managed to complete my 2nd University Degree (my Bachelor of Commerce [honours] double majoring in "Entrepreneurship / Small Business" and "Management of Organizations" the latter of which I received the "I .H. Asper School of Business Medal for Excellence" recognizing my achievement of having the highest standing of any student in my graduating class for that major. I'm not usually one to brag, but when someone cuts a whole in your brain, takes some material out, and sends you back on your way... getting a medal ain't so bad ;)

11:23pm. My wife has just told me it is time for bed. This is why I love her (but don't tell her that). She cares for me enough to look after me when I don't (which I never do). She is the reason I am still alive for multiple reasons (which you can again read about in prior posts). The reason she is telling me to get to bed is that if I don't, I will risk not getting enough sleep. Why? Because I am stubborn and will go to work tomorrow, even if I have not gotten enough sleep. I don't blame her for worrying. Me having a seizure worries her 1,000 times more than it worries me. This is because she is the one that has to deal with the after effects of my seizures (by taking care of me EVEN MORE than she does in a typical day). By continuing to type I'm being tremendously selfish and stubborn (two of my most prominent qualities as a husband).

11:27: Pushing my luck, I wanted to acknowledge my 2 year anniversary by stating my head has remained in one piece with most of its contents in tact (unfortunately including the remaining tumour cells). I have a rant to write about people telling me "You must be SO HAPPY to be off chemo soon!" (just a warning: I'm not, so don't say that to me). Cheers to you all eh?

11:29, and if I really hurry I can brush my teeth and be in bed by 11:43!!! Don't tell my dentist I'm going to forgo flossing tonight (as I have for the past 400+ some nights). Maybe tomorrow? I say that every night, so one night it will have to be true!

11:31pm. The end... for now... until I come back tomorrow to write more... which I always say I will do... but rarely end up doing... sorry ... life is keeping me busy... which is good.... so I shouldn't apologize... but I still am... wonder what my councilor would say about that... goodnight! :)

11:32pm. [sound of teeth being brushed]

11:33pm. Feeling of guilt for having not proofread the above. Feeling of fear knowing I have probably made multiple spelling errors. And possibly even grammatical ones!!! :()