I actually had a great week this week. I felt good, I walked taller and I took on some projects.
My new chemotherapy appears to have few obvious side effects, other than more nausea on days six and seven, and I’m generally feeling much better on it.
Now whether that means I’m actually better or not is anybody’s guess but I’ll take feeling better over being better for now.
And when I say I walked taller, I mean I literally walked taller. Ever since I was hospitalized for three weeks in January I’ve been unable to really stand up straight or walk completely upright. I did my best but I was always a little slouched over because being completely straight simply hurt.
But in the past three days or so I’ve been able to walk quite a bit better and at least as far as I can tell, I am actually walking with my shoulders back, finally.
My dad always told me to never shuffle my feet and to always walk with your shoulders back, so now I can walk in a way he’d be proud of.
And I’m taking on projects, namely selling lots and lots of VW parts. I’ve sold tons of parts of all kinds to people from a wide area, and nearly every day someone is scheduled to come to the house to pick up more parts.
Of course that means I have a little money, which means I bought a few parts for my 1979 convertible Bug, which I hope to be able to drive before I’m no longer able to do it. I have high hopes that it’ll happen.
I’m also making even more plans. My fiancee Jamie has a flight credit of $500 leftover from when she had to cancel a trip to Mexico when I was first diagnosed with cancer, and when she was planning how to use it we realized that if I continue to feel better, I could go with her.
So now we’re planning a weekend trip to New York City to at least see the city from our hotel window, or maybe from my wheelchair, but we’ll be out on vacation as if I’m not dying. We plan to visit the TWA Hotel to give a really nice scratch to my modern architecture itch.
There’s also one other plan that’s a little more devious.
When my oncologist last saw me he saw me slouched in a wheelchair, yellow from my failing liver, and he was recommending I give up and die peacefully on Hospice.
I can’t wait to see his face when I walk in upright, no yellow skin in sight, feeling energetic and telling him about my plans to visit NYC.
I hope it’s the first of many times I surprise doctors by thriving instead of dying.
By Dave Taylor