I roll the dice seemingly everyday. I've always had the gambling itch of sorts, I guess. You've seen it here on the blog, with me practically begging readers to place a bet on the Kentucky Derby, just for giggles. In a finance class, against the grain, frowned upon, and a move that probably should've cost me my degree, I told the professor I'd flip a coin to win or lose a grand. Perhaps it's taken me this long to realize I'm an adrenaline junkie and choose to get such rushes through the gamble. I wouldn't say I'm fearless, nor careless, because I'm very wary of such attributes and their existence in my thought process...so we'll stick with adrenaline junkie. Wait for the skydiving blog...just kidding, don't.
Why do I start a blog like this? Well, quite frankly, everything I choose to do entails a certain acceptance of risk. Now, Sloan Kettering of course will offer me anything in their arsenal to combat this disease, which of course is commendable. However, their arsenal is devoid of weapons that can get me into remission. On the other hand, they do have some things that can help the time I have left be of the best quality possible, such as radiating the bones that are showing activity in my spine in order to avoid, or at least delay, paralysis. Sounds great if you've accepted the ending they've written. I can't just yet.
So what am I doing? Well I'm going to do what makes sense to me, what I think will benefit me best. I think I've earned the right to be a little selfish when it comes to my medical care nowadays. As a result, I'm heading back to Mexico, getting some treatment there, then coming back and getting radiation to the spots showing activity on my latest PET scan. They delay of radiation is a bit of a risk, but one that I have to take. I have a tough time believing the treatment does nothing, given the reactions I've had after the fevers. I'll finally be able to get the full treatment down there, because in this time being home, my platelet numbers (and even my white blood cell count) have rebounded quite well. At least they're giving me the hope that I could possibly achieve a remission - and so, of course, this is my choice.
Here's to tamales, fevers, and good riddance to tumors. Viva Mexico!