My best laid plans are all being knocked over and thrown about and whatever else bad can happen to things you lay out in a manner that you would consider having been laid out as best they could be. I guess in my mind plans are a lot like dominoes. When dominoes are best laid, that’s the appropriate time to knock them over. Also, does the term “best laid plans” ever refer to something good? My best laid plans went just the way plans should go when best laid: AMAZINGLY! No, don’t be stupid, nobody says that.

–Reid.

The only thing of which I am absolutely certain is that there is no such thing as absolute certainty.

–Reid.

I celebrated my 27th birthday yesterday, and did a lot of thinking about birthdays. The question rolling around my head was why do we mark the day we were born? All I did 27 years ago was be born, and as I remember it, I had very little to do with that. I’m fairly certain that the person who worked the hardest 27 years ago was my mom. Why don’t I celebrate my high school graduation every year? That was something I worked much harder on and something I’m much prouder to know I did. What are we celebrating other than making it around the sun again?

I think it has to do with probability. For a lot of people, it’s dumb luck. They’re TXTing and don’t immediately notice the walk sign, so that car running the red light just misses them. They decide to hike a new path and don’t get hit by the boulder that rolls down across the path they’ve been walking every day for the past six years. Their alarm doesn’t go off and they miss their plane that never arrives at its destination.

I suppose I have a somewhat predictable feeling about probability. I got cancer, which most people don’t get. I got leukemia, which most cancer patients my age don’t get. I got hemorrhagic pancreatitis, which most leukemia patients don’t get. I’m that .01% that you hear about on the drug commercials who get headaches, cramps, and/or hooves.

But I’ve also managed to hold onto a very different view of probability. I couldn’t get a diagnosis over four months in NYC, and finally came home to be diagnosed with leukemia a week before it almost certainly would have been fatal. Because I thought I’d broken my arm, I wound up at The Children’s Hospital, where I had seen my old orthopedist. While I hadn’t really broken my arm, I was bound to The Children’s Hospital at which, as an adult, my chances for survival from the pediatric cancer I had contracted were astronomically higher than they would have been at an adult hospital. My hemorrhaged pancreas was destroying my internal organs, and when my mom asked the doctors and surgeons at the U if I would be okay, they told her they’d never seen anyone survive that was in the condition I was in–but I did survive.

So, while I’m that .01% who might get headaches, nausea, and/or male pregnancy on the drug commercials, I’m also that .01% who has survived everything thrown at him. Maybe it’s dumb luck. Maybe it’s something else. I don’t know.

What I do know is that next year will be my golden birthday–I’ll turn 28 on July 28, 2011. But that’s certainly not the only thing that will make it special. It will be my first chemo-free birthday in four years. It will be a victory, just as these past three birthdays have been, and just as every single birthday for the rest of my life will be. Victory in the face of probability. Victory that I’ve made it around the sun one more time.

–Reid.

Facebook is having trouble importing my (and lots of other people’s) blog entries to “Notes.” By which I mean Facebook is not importing my (and lots of other people’s) blog entries to “Notes.”

All my hilarious and leukemic antics of the past month (and sporadically before that) are missing from Facebook, including, but not limited to:

-A trip to Washington, D.C. to spend Independence Day with my sisters that I slept through!

-Apple geniuses not only repairing my graphics card, but also going so far as to give my laptop a shiny new casing!

-Fun with foot-and-mouth disease, a very painful mouth and throat disease that only animals and very lucky humans like leukemia patients get!

-And who could forget my conviction as being a Russian spy?

Classic! And much of that stuff actually happened!

I changed some settings and am hoping this blog entry will automatically be posted on Facebook, rather than only linking back to reidlevin.net. We shall see. Oh yes, we shall.

–Reid.

—————-
Now playing: Taranchula – Moving Very Slowly
via FoxyTunes

I spent this past long weekend in Washington, DC, visiting my sisters and thus successfully continuing an unbroken three year run of 3R out-of-Denver Independence Days. I think it can now officially be considered a tradition. I’m glad to have been able to spend the holiday with them, even if I was sick and in bed most of my time there.

My laptop, like me, broke down in DC. This was of some note, as just two weeks prior, I had taken my laptop in to be examined (by a genius, no less) because the screen was blank sometimes when it should not have been blank. Like when it was turned on. That problem was attributed to my screen by the genius, “and definitely not to a specific graphics card put into specific laptops manufactured during a specific period of time in 2007″ (“what an oddly specific thing for this genius to say,” I thought to myself at the time). The genius took away my computer, so as to repair the screen “and definitely not some very specific graphics card like the one inside this super specific laptop” (“why does this genius keep talking about that?” I naïvely wondered to myself).

I got my laptop back, with a brand new screen, and used it only once before traveling to DC. The first time I tried to boot it up in DC, however, nothing happened. My first thought was, “I’ll bet this has something to do with a specific graphics card put into specific laptops manufactured during a specific period of time in 2007.” A more forthcoming genius in DC was only too happy to tell me the whole story. It turns out there is a known error with the specific graphics card I have in the specific model laptop I have that was manufactured during the specific time mine was manufactured.

I was less perturbed than I would’ve guessed I’d be, having had to give up my computer for what will end up being at least two weeks for a misdiagnosed known problem. I’ll chalk this calm reaction up to AppleCare and Apple’s “if it breaks, we’ll fix it no matter what (see terms and conditions for limitations of liability)” attitude. I have Amy to thank for talking my dad into AppleCare when, in an unlikely team-up event, she and my dad teamed-up and went shopping together to buy me a laptop when I was in the hospital in ’07-’08.

Oh, and somewhere in this recent ’010 timeframe, I got hired to write for a comedy website. But more about that later.

–Reid.
Listening to: “Hook” by Blues Traveler.
Painstakingly “typed” on my iPhone.

I am awake and cannot seem to fall asleep. I started feeling hungry around two o’clock, and did my best to ignore it. After doing some light reading, the sensation overwhelmed me. I was extremely hungry, even though I had a full dinner. When was dinner anyway, I started asking myself, I think it was at least five hours ago. My appetite has been up and down every day; it has been very unpredictable. But at that moment, I knew I wanted to eat something. So I went upstairs and rummaged through the cupboard and fridge, and settled on a mid-night snack of Havarti and Lite Club Crackers. I brought the various components for the snack downstairs with me, laid them all out, and prepared each cracker with a bit of cheese. In my head, I could hear the voice of Wallace urging me on, and complimenting me on my selection of cheese. My selection of the Danish Havarti was an excellent one, I could hear him say, although he prefers Wensleydale, of course.

The spread of six crackers, each with a small pieces of cheese atop it, will not remain uneaten for long. I think about going in to the clinic tomorrow and getting my vitals checked. I think about kilograms and how I like seeing those numbers because they mask a true understanding of my current weight. I know the math to convert kilograms to pounds, but remain happy and content not to do so. I know what number I always want to be, or be below, although I think about 111 kg and what a weak goal that is. Yet, with this cheese and these crackers, I’m not sure I’ll even make it to 111. I feel embarrassed for my tomorrow self.

Nobody will give the number a second glance after it’s put into the computer. No one else will think, “That’s a loootta kilograms!” They check it every time a patient comes in, so that they can figure out dosing for meds, some of which are based on, of all things, surface area. Others are just based on weight. The number will stick with me for a couple of days, though, not that I feel up to doing anything in the realm of exercise during my days and nights all usually spent sleeping these days. I shouldn’t be worrying about this right now, at this moment of treating two different blood diseases, and a host of other issues. I just can’t ever seem to get it out of my head if it’s over 111kg, and it makes me angry at myself for the rest of the day.

We used to talk a lot about how, when I was in the hospital for so long in ’08, I lost so much weight. It was a good thing, but not done in a good way. It was extremely unhealthy, and yet I can vividly remember weighing in at 101 kg, the lightest I’ve been in years. It was bad, the staff feared I might go under 100 kg too fast, and my weight might just keep plummeting until there was nothing left of me but skin and bones–there wouldn’t be any Reid to treat for leukemia. All I can remember, from staring at that 101 on the scale was thinking, “Awesome.”

My psychologist told me that it is extremely common for cancer patients to find things about their cancer that they secretly consider good and are happy about, but they feel extremely embarrassed to feel this way. It’s common to carry this guilt that I might actually be happy with the leukemia that has so devastated my body and that so many people have helped me fight. She assures me that this is extremely common, that most patients of serious long term diseases eventually force themselves to focus on good aspects of what’s going on. It might be spending more time with their family, it might be that they’re the center of attention, it might be that they like being driven around. I hate the leukemia, and I want this whole thing to be over. But part of me just keeps thinking about that 101 on that scale.

There are five crackers with cheese left. I feel so hungry, which is very unusual of late. I’ve just been feeling really full, or having stomachaches lately. And I hardly ran any marathons to boost my appetite. The biggest event was dinner last night. I just… feel so ashamed about all of this, but I think eating in the middle of the night is something for which I’ll be beating myself up over for a long time.

Maybe writing this will have distracted me from eating and I’ll just be able to fall asleep without eating the other crackers. It’s worth a shot, but, I have a feeling that I’ll be sitting down with Wallace before I fall asleep, and that we’ll both be enjoying our cheeses.

–Reid.

…it’s the full H1N1 Fever Edition with Special Edition “Airway Disease”! Airway Disease is a generic term meaning “the x-ray shows no pneumonia but it shows something that could be bronchitis or something similar,” which is nice. I’ve got the whole thing: fever, painful cough, body aches, bloody congestion, I lost my voice and so on.

It’s hard to say it (and not just because I lost my voice) but I’m actually glad I didn’t make the trip to NYC. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if the H1N1 had reared its head out there, other than germ all of my friends up.

I sort of feel like I knew this was inevitable all along. Once I’m better, I just need to try to evade getting a mutated strain of it, which I am coming to understand is happening fairly commonly. One crazy flu a season is good enough for me. I gotta get that ever elusive vaccination. Stupid Health Department, I curse your name!

Jerks.

–Reid.

—————-
Now playing: Sia – Under The Milky Way
via FoxyTunes

I have found myself fighting off a fearsome enemy inside my own head. It is also in my throat, my lungs and the rest of my body, for that matter. I call this enemy The Flu, jr., or The Flu Lite, or The Flu: Trial Edition. It is a fever-less flu, but with all the other weapons the normal flu (The Flu 2010: H1N1 – Business Edition) seems to throw at people. Oh, and this semi-flu, this little weenie of a flu, this poor excuse for a mutated alien cold that mated with a flu wannabe disease inside my already tender sinuses that can barely even ever hope to call itself a cousin of the influenza family? It’s not even going to be leaving me with any antibodies for the real big, bad threat this year, the so-called “Swine Flu” (patent pending). I feel so used.

Tomorrow I have an oncology appointment at the hospital. So I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and I figure I’ll probably pick up a copy of the full version while I’m there.

–Reid.

I can’t believe I’m posting this and yet here I am. This is a very personal issue that I have kept almost entirely to myself for a long time–and I’ll leave it at that.

When I was younger, I had a habit of eating “midnight snacks,” which are absolutely, positively bad news for the body. I was convinced by a pediatrician that this was causing a lot of my weight problems, and for years, I really tried hard to break myself of the habit.

Unfortunately, since I’ve been undergoing chemotherapy, I’ve had fairly constant nighttime insomnia. Being awake until 4am or 5am is not unusual for me. Right now, on top of my normal insomnia, I’m battling a wicked cold with coughing fits that, even though I’m loaded with Nyquil, doesn’t allow me much good sleep. There always seems to be something preventing me from getting “good sleep.”

By the middle of the night, dinner seems further and farther in the past and breakfast seems far in the future. I feel hungry. Sometimes I’ll get up and eat some fruit, sometimes some crackers and cheese, sometimes a piece of bread. I inevitably end up very mad at myself for contributing to my body’s already messed up metabolism. I am quite unhappy with the way I look and am scared of the health problems that may develop from being overweight, I am unhappy with this nighttime snacking habit, and yet, at 3am, I can’t seem to help myself.

I don’t really know what to do to break this habit. Will power alone isn’t cutting it. If anyone has any suggestions, I would sure appreciate them. Thanks in advance!

–Reid.

I just stumbled upon a copy of the ESPN/Alltel Wireless “My Circle My Picks” commercial that I was in back in ’07. It’s called “Wide Circle” and has something to do with college football. This was the first national commercial in which I acted. It was filmed around the time I started noticing that I was getting sick, and I had all-but given up hope on ever finding a copy until I randomly came across it tonight.

It was directed by Harold Einstein, who (rumor and a bit of Wiki-ing has it) is related to comedy brothers Albert Brooks and Bob “Super Dave Osborne” Einstein. It was a lot of fun, and since then, I’ve seen several of the other guys from this spot in other commercials. They were all nice guys, so that’s really cool. Oh, and the great NCAA football commentator Lee Corso was there and he, too, was very nice. I will admit that *ahem* I had to look up who he was after I met him.

It was a great experience, and I’m glad I finally get to share it with all of you! And, wouldn’t you know it, it’s really, really weird.

Enjoy!

–Reid.