The end of the first act.

Bad stuff first because it's short. It's getting late in an 8 day downcycle and the pain is tapering off. The catfish is really getting used to being a catfish again. Worst part is that 'the twins' still feel like I've been kicked. It's always that way.

And now to the bright spot in our program. This is a significant milestone. Monthly testing shows our progress and sets our milestones for the following month. Here's a recap of the story:

On August 26, 2006 I went to urgent care with an upper respiratory infection. I slid into the abyss over the next weeks, and on September 8, they put me in the hospital.

My September 20th bloodwork showed a very very very sick guy. All of my chemistry was off, my counts were off, and my prognosis looked bad. Certainly the diagnosis wasn't what I expected. Then I went on chemo and the numbers got better, month by month.

Well, now I'm here at the end of December, essentially 100 days from the lowest spot in my physical life, and my blood numbers are VIRTUALLY PERFECT!

Yes, you read that correctly. My blood numbers say I'm a healthy 51 year old. Sure, there's one little count that's fractionally right outside the box, but if you'd seen how far away that number once was, you'd consider it in the box too. In fact, that little number is the "killer number" and it's return to normalcy signals my probable healthy survival.

So, chemo works. Chemo also continues. I don't get to stop doing this crap yet. The doctors tell me we need to keep sledge-hammering the cancer into complete submission with this stuff, so while my numbers might be great right now, if I stop the chemo the cancer will screw up my system again.

So the saga continues, albeit with a significant high point at the end of the first act. I'll talk to my oncologist on Tuesday and lay out a plan. Until then, this is the intermission.