Stupid... Mosquitoes....

I swear, if I die of West Nile Virus, I will be seriously upset. West Nile is usually only fatal to the very old and the very young. And, oh yeah, those with poor immune systems. Fabulous. But I think I'm on enough anti-viral medications that I should survive. Malaria, on the other hand, might be a problem. Although, I'm not sure when Chicago last had an outbreak of malaria. I don't think there has been one in a while anyway.

BUT: Everyone's happy white blood cell thoughts, and I've received a lot of them, have done wonders in raising my platelet count. It has soared from around 60,000 one week ago to about 250,000 as of this morning. Hoorah! This means that I will be able to begin my Final! module of chemotherapy this coming Monday. And the even better news is that I will be doing it all outpatient. So, even though the temperature is hovering in the 90s, the humidity is so high you can almost swim through the air, and my house's air conditioner decided to die about 15 years ago, I am overjoyed to not have to spend any amount of time in the hospital. Hopefully I won't get an infection; that would cast a rather bleak shadow over my otherwise sunny outlook. All of the chemotherapy and the lumbar punctures can be done in clinic, which is great. I'm actually not quite sure why I am doing this outpatient. The last time I went through this module, I was in-patient. (That's when my kidneys decided it would be super cool to stop working. Good times.) But either way, I am not complaining. So that's my good news, which always makes for a good day. Plus, tomorrow's Friday, and I get to sleep in. Awesome. Peace.

The pros and cons of being bald.

Con: Your head gets really hot, and, yes, I'll admit it, sweaty, when it's hot outside.
Pro: Your head is super easy to wipe down when it gets all sweaty.

Con: No sun-bleached locks.
Pro: No shampooing and conditioning.

Con: Your head gets really shiny when it is hot. sweaty. clean. cold. bored. tired. morning.
Pro: You can wear a hat.

Con: If you have never been bald before, you have a higher risk of sunburn on the top of your head.
Pro: Once your hair grows back, no one will be able to see the freckles and sunspots.

Con: Self-image is temporarily affected.
Pro: When being treated like dirt at a store or on the road, a swift removal of hat or scarf and an angry face serve to make everyone feel guilty and apologetic. Throw in a hacking cough and you're golden.

I think my hair might be starting to grow back. It might also be wishful thinking on my part. I guess I miss my hair; I certainly think about it a lot. But really, I wouldn't mind being bald for a little bit if there wasn't such a stigma attached to it. And yes, in the Midwest, in suburban Chicago, there is a stigma. At a barbeque I went to a while ago, a girl there was talking about her friend who got "a boy haircut." And trust me, the way she said it, her friend had made the worst decision in terms of her personal appearance. I think that if I was in a big city like New York, California, or maybe even downtown Chicago, it wouldn't be such a big deal. But out here in the suburbs, we don't tolerate that kind of crazy behavior. Shaving your head. My goodness, what is the world coming to. So my hair is coming back, although for now I'm still a rebel with or without a cause. Enjoy your tomorrows. Pax.

So, I should probably clarify.

Just so no one thinks I'm sitting all alone in my bedroom, moping, and feeling sorry for myself. Friday was sort of the culmination of two months worth of unfortunate events for me. Friday itself I spent in an outpatient clinic receiving blood. I then came home to find an e-mail from my doctor telling me that my platelets were still too low to safely begin chemo, and she told me I would have to wait another week to be tested again. Hence, my final round of chemo was pushed back a week, and I lost it a little bit.

I am in a really weird emotional spot right now. I have been consistently in and out of the hospital for the past two months, and I realize now that I had set my expectations way too rigidly in terms of returning to school. For the past seven months, I have learned to live (mostly) day to day. The idea of going back to Boston helped keep me sane, and as my return was further solidified, I became fixated on returning on a certain date. And then when I learned my date had to be extended, I didn't know what to do, really. It's hard when something you look forward to so much is suddenly altered. But you'd think I would have learned by now that you can't put too much trust in the future when the present is so uncertain.

My doctor explained to me in another e-mail that my most recent infection really took a toll on my cells' ability to regenerate, platelets included. Obviously I am disappointed, still. But my despair of Friday has receded quite a bit. One of the main reasons for this, other than that I've had some time to let it sink in, is that over the past few days I have heard from some of my very good friends, as well as from people who don't know me too well. They reminded me that a better world exists outside of this dastardly cancer-infused one, and I absolutely have a place in it. Regardless of when I actually, finally, fly away from Chicago, I will definitely do so in the near future. And then the good times begin in earnest. The next six or seven or eight weeks are still going to be hell for me. You can not fathom how much I want, how much I need this chemotherapy to be finished. But I guess the most important thing I can do, and if anyone wants to help, please do, is to think happy white blood cell thoughts. And just accept that this will end when it ends. Thank you So much to everyone who is helping me get through this. I wouldn't be able to without you. Peace.

Dear Life: Enough of this nonsense.

At one point during my adventures living in Boston, I was the greeter/bag check at a guitar store. Daddy's Junky Music. Right smack across Massachusetts Avenue from Berklee College of Music. The manager "let me go" about three months after I started working there. His excuse was that since it was summertime, no one was buying guitars, and they didn't need me. Okay, fine. I didn't really like the job, and the next week I found a much better one as a bartender. I did, however, meet some ridiculous people while I worked there. Berklee not only attracts great musicians, it also attracts a horde of not-so-great musicians who like to bask in the glory of a school they could never get in to. All of these people, at one point or another, wandered through Daddy's and played the $2000 Gibson Les Paul's and such. Daddy's also rented equipment, so we frequently had crazy deejays and musicians getting stuff for a gig. One evening, there were two guys renting speakers and something else, a mixer maybe? While the one guy was filling out the paperwork, the other guy came and talked to me. Hell if I remember what we talked about, but I know at one point he told me that life is all about "whoever's got the groove and the best attitude." That is a direct quote; I know because I wrote it down. Now, I never saw the man again, and I never will. But I do try to live up to what he said.

I fear that right now I am letting down this crazy, dancing, loud and happy man. My attitude, so fantastically good for the past Seven months, is crashing down around me. My final course of chemotherapy has gotten pushed back another week. I have tried so hard not to complain, and especially not to complain on here, but I am seriously upset now. The terrible thing is this is my fault, not my doctor's. It's my platelets that aren't growing, my white blood cells that are keeping me from doing Anything. So I guess this is the bad part of cancer: the end. Your body is so worn down it doesn't regenerate half as well as it used to. It's hard because the end is So Close! It just keeps getting farther away. I need some motivation to get me through this, and going back to school isn't doing it for me anymore, especially since I don't know when I'll be back. I've lost the groove, and I'm losing my attitude. But I'm going to go eat my Cheerios, which will cheer me up temporarily. Okay. Peace.

A number of important things have happened today.

First off. So, Starbucks increased their prices. By Ten Cents. (nine if you use the average increase the media is tossing around). Honestly, I don't have any money as it is, and now they want me to cough up ten more cents? Dear Corn: I knew I never liked you. Now I really don't like you. Because, of course, this is all corn's fault. Basic economics: when the demand for one staple goes up, it affects the prices of basically everything else in the supermarket. Starbucks, my already overpriced ice cream shop (which is still delicious), and countless other fooderies, I'm sure, are jacking their prices because the price of dairy and wheat and vegetables and groceries in general have all gone up. Yes, ethanol is a good fuel source. But is it worth the tremendous increase in food prices?

Secondly: My financial aid for the upcoming school year was granted! Hoorah! Now I will definitely be able to return to school in the fall, and a major stressball has been eliminated. I have made huge progress with my two papers as well, so that will be another weight off my shoulders soon.

And finally, I went for a walk today. This is important for at least two reasons. One: I feel well enough and have enough energy to walk for half an hour (remember I haven't done much moving for the past three or four weeks). Two: I ran a little bit during the walk. Alright, it was more of a glorified jog, and it was probably less than 100 meters, but nonetheless, it was a solid attempt at running, twice in the thirty minutes. My legs were like, "Wow, yeah, this is awkward," and my lungs were like, "Are you joking?" But I did it, and I eventually cooled off, and at no point did I think I was going to pass out. It's going to be quite a long road to full recovery, but I am pumped for it. At this point, I'm just tired of being sick. Hoh well. Let's get through tomorrow. Happy Tuesday, sad toad.

(cbridges86@gmail.com e-mail me!)

Anybody want to start a band?

Seriously. Anybody. If you have musical talent and want to show the world, call me and we'll get together. At some point in my life, I would like to tour in a band. Whether or not we're any good is unimportant. I just want to sing with people. Maybe bust out my guitar every once in a while. Anyway, that's one of the many things on my To Do Life list. Another one is bike through western Europe. Of course, running a marathon is on there as well, along with a vague rock climbing dream.

Anyway, the reason I mention this is because I am beginning to get my energy back. Which of course means I want to go do things. I will find out tomorrow if my white blood cells have grown back enough so that I can be around people again. It would be nice to have the rest of the week free to frolic... in the...field, um, what? But I also hope my counts are high enough that I can possibly start my chemo early, early being Wednesday as opposed to next Monday. We'll see.

The other good news is that the gears are all grinding away in the process of getting me back to school. I've been in touch with my professors for next semester, and so far there seems to be no major issues with my coming in a little late. I'm getting excited. Not that I haven't been excited about returning to school for the past almost eight months, but now everything is tightening up. My return is still so maddeningly far away, but at least now there are set details and not just a misty longing. Now, if only my hair would start to grow back.... One thing at a time, I guess. Pax.

What do you mean, the week is over?

Where did it go? I suppose a better question would be, where did the summer go? I can't believe this is the last weekend of July. I have spent the past two months in and out of the hospital. In those two months, I don't think I have been out of the hospital any longer than maybe ten days. Maybe. I'm going for two weeks this time, but apparently I'm neutropenic again, so there are no guarantees. As long as my intestine doesn't decide to free any more e-coli into my bloodstream...

I have spent this past week sleeping, with a very few notable exceptions. One was my interview on Wednesday, which I am currently transcribing. Another is this morning. I've mentioned before that a family friend of ours is running the Chicago Marathon with Team in Training, helping raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Woo! Anyway, so she invited me to come and meet her running group this morning. I rolled myself out of bed at 6 am and headed to the lakefront to say some vaguely inspiring things to a group of people who had just run between 8 and 12 miles. I think I'm more inspired by them though. They pull themselves out of bed every Saturday morning to run extreme distances, not to mention the running they do during the week, while maintaining families and jobs, all for a very good cause. I mean, not too many people do that. I don't think I'll be here for the actual Marathon, but I sure will be cheering them all on.

Otherwise, there's not much. My arms are covered in large bruises and small cuts from peripheral IVs. My platelets are still pretty low, so none of the old bruises are going away, and new ones keep forming. I think I'll just admit I'm a junkie and get it over with. That's sure what it looks like anyway. I find the bruises somewhat amusing, but mostly they annoy me. Maybe one day I'll be normal again. I hope that day comes soon... I'm starting to get worried. Oh well. Peace out.