Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Yes, I'm alive

The hair on my butt is growing back but the hair on my head isn't. Such is the life of me. Sorry to not have written but I was in dispose, as in curled up in a ball wishing that bad nausea demons would run away. Today they did but they'll probably be back. 

I've started my proton radiation treatment. I talk about Star Trek and how the other guy would always die and never Spock, McCoy or Kirk and why would a recon party be sending a doctor and only two or three other people? Why would they need a doctor on a planet when you could just beam the person up if they got ill. Plus, he's carrying a laser gun and according to the Geneva Convention, medical personnel shouldn't be carrying firearms.  The radiation people just look at me funny. 

I lay on a bed for an hour. Enclosed is a picture of the monstrosity. I have to be still for the whole hour. And ladies, I'm shirtless too. It doesn't hurt much. I get a headache but that could be because they play all oldies music. Best of oldies too. So far, I've been able to enjoy the musical libraries of Poison, REO Speedwagon, Van Morrison and Gordon Lightfoot. Nothing quite like the weirdness of hearing Gordon Lightfoot while getting millions of molecules of radiation beamed into you. And although it is incredibly tempting, you can't start that toe a tappin when you hear, "Sun down, you better take care..."  

It should only take about fifteen minutes but they're shooting four different areas. I keep hearing, "Wow, you're a pretty extreme case...but I've seen worse." The last part is supposed to make me feel better and I applaud the effort but it doesn't. I feel like I got an F on a paper and the prof is basically saying that I'm not the dumbest person he's ever met. 

I sort of got the breakdown of what proton radiation is and it basically kills the stuff you want to kill and doesn't kill as much of the stuff you don't want to kill. Like lungs and hearts. Being in advertising, I've long lost my heart. And if you've seen my ruthlessness on display while playing the game Sorry, you would certainly agree. Many have sobbed uncontrollably while I send them back to home base yet again.

The Rotary House hasn't changed. I don't think it ever does. My wife was exactly correct in describing it as a retirement community. Tonight they had Wii games and Bingo. I really wanted to trash talk my way through a mean Wii bowling game but had to pass as it was the same time I got zapped. 

I'll be doing this until August 20th. When you "graduate", you get a certificate and get to bang this big gong. The last time I got a certificate I was finishing up the first round of chemo way back when they said I wouldn't have cancer again, a year ago. I puked on it. 

The late end date means I'll probably miss the birth of my daughter. So far, only one of you fellas has volunteered to sit in. A bunch of you gals have which makes me wonder about your preferences, but hey, eventually we'll be more excepting of your kind and let you people get married legally. So basically, we'll be birthing old school with the woman in the birthing room and the dad somewhere off at a bar or something. In this case, the Rotary House lobby.  

Now that I'm feeling better, I'll try to update happenings more often. Thanks to everyone for wondering if I was okay. The answer is no, I wasn't okay but now I'm better. Some of you have wondered more passionately than others. Sara Leopold took the opportunity to make fun of me which isn't very nice. 


  1. Hair on the back side, but not on the top side? Welcome to my future.

    Much has happened while you have been away. Most of it boring, but I'll update you on the saga of Big Joe which seems to be coming to its sad but inevitable conclusion.

    When we last left our hero, Big Joe was living in the San Diego area engaging in adult activities with anyone and everyone who was more anatomically correct than a Ken doll. Now Big Joe and his wife are consenting adults so what they do is their business, except for the fact that his wife was in a nasty custody dispute with my client. Because of that, I cared, and the judge cared and the kids' attorney cared and the family psychologist cared. Big Joe still didn't care. When he finally managed to bring himself and his huge appendage to Chicago to be interviewed, both psychologists found him to be, naricistic, not believable and a sexual deviant. Turns out, he lives in California in a 1200 square foot house with his wife and his Mommy, he did not play in the NFL and he does not work for Homeland Security. I don't know that anyone asked to see what he was truly packing below the belt, but I expect that maybe even the photos were doctored. "Say it ain't so Joe." From here on he will no longer be Big Joe to me, which is ok, because I said to the kids' attorney, any guy with physical gift like what we saw in the pictures must be destroyed at all costs. I expect Joe and the wife won't make it another year.

    I best go get ready for work. Glad to hear you are feeling better and that we will be hearing from you more often. I think I speak for everyone when I say that I hope the updates include information about further hair growth in your nether regions.

  2. I'm just relieved about the butt hair.

  3. A misunderstanding I hope? or maybe you are joking? I truly want you to feel well and am glad you are writing again, Mike. take care.

  4. Did you have butt-hair before? I am thrilled to see you are back in your saddle so to speak...hey, maybe some Chaps and a Cowboy hat would do the trick?

  5. Todd, will you tell Sara that I'm not talking to her because she was mean?

  6. when is the little one due? Shaun Alexander's friend David and his wife will like to be considered as witnesses to the birth. David promises that he will neither puke nor faint at the sight of blood.