My one month off of radiation checkup with the radiation oncologist went well. Every symptom I thrust forward from the past month was met with a solid parry of, “That’s normal for one month out–if it’s still happening in six, I’ll be worried”.

As much comfort as I’m glad this provided my mom, I was sort of shaken by the realization that I am having more memory issues than I had previously realized. I’ve realized for a few weeks that I’m having trouble thinking quite as fast as normal–slower than normal “chemo brain” thinking, even. Words that I know I know have been harder to find, and names, which I’m terrible with anyway, well, forget it (that’s what I’ve done).

Like most of this process, there is a lot of frustration involved. I was relieved–if only momentarily–to learn that I passed a short term memory test with flying colors, 30/30. That said, I couldn’t remember details about my own life from the past few weeks. I had been tipped off about this when I asked Amy something about the past few weeks and she told me she had only left a few days ago. That in particular made me uncomfortable, because the same exact thing happened after my psychosis in April: my concept of time was challenged by almost the same conversation with Amy. That sickening feeling of only very slowly becoming aware that I was missing pieces of my memory because of things everyone else took it for granted that I remembered.

I’ve been in a handful of physically scary situations in my lifetime. Right up there with those situations where I thought I might die or get hurt, there’s a scary non-physical situation that has haunted me for many years now. Seeing my great-grandfather, whom I was very close to, go through all the phases of Alzheimer’s, knowing that there wasn’t much we could do for him, and just how frustrated he was as he knew he was losing his ability to think straight. I don’t want to live like that. I lived like that for a few days in April and it was hell.

Dr. Liu is not concerned though. Of course. So I’ll wait six months, and hopefully I will look back and remember this with clarity.

Speaking of looking back, we just celebrated one year since beating the odds. Whether you prayed for me, and asked others to do so like my cousin Martin did, or whether you made a series of videos about me in NYC like Better Than The Machine did, or whether you just came and sat with me, wiping off my brow after my dad had gone home, like Matt McDole did, or if you just heard about who I was through our videos and you dropped a nice note, or if you’ve known me a long time and just thought about me, it all means a great deal to me.

I did not have a good chance to survive, but I had the strength and wisdom you have all given me, and here I am today. Thank you. Everything matters.

–r.