Posted by: cg00n | February 6, 2014

Tomorrow Never Knows

Greetings all!  Happy 2014!  Gung Hay Fat Choi!  Etc. etc..

As I’ve commented before, my state of being index is inversely proportional to the frequency of updates on this blog.  This is also true for my own, hand-written journal which last saw an update in November.  So, you see, meta-data analysis can, in fact, tell you more than you might think.   Whether or not the various nefarious agents out there on the internet have managed to piece together all my alter egos I’m not sure.  Why would they want to?  Perhaps because they can.  For now I have no particular reason to think my identity has been compromised, so I continue to sleep well.  The melatonin helps, too.

One of my recently created internet identities is as a participant in online support groups for anxiety, depression, and skin cancer.  Right now I’m in a pretty good state to provide some support to others, and by doing so I bank up some credit for when I don’t feel so strong.  This seems to be working out pretty well, although there are very few people active in the skin cancer group.  Lots of people with various anxiety & depression disorders, though.  I get a warm and fuzzy feeling every time one of them says “thank you” for one of my postings.  Of course, for all I know I’m offering advice and consolation to an army of bots, or to a whole bunch of people who are just having me on:  the whole thing is entirely anonymous.  However, I choose to believe that at least some of them are real people with real problems.  BTW, if anyone figures out my disguise there please don’t blow my cover!  I’d like to keep all the pieces of my online existence separate.

Reading the postings on the support groups site brings back memories of the bad times, not so very long ago.  By now I can think about them without anxiety, but when someone writes “I can’t do this anymore” it still produces a momentary cold, sinking feeling in my gut.  People are not very good at handling uncertainty, especially when the signs are inauspicious.  I like to think I’ve got a bit better at that.  The real test will come when the bottom drops out of my world again, which it surely will someday.  For this reason alone I keep up my meditation practice, and although I doubt if I will ever become a buddha I feel as though I am taking sensible, proactive steps to improve my long-term prospects.

Two pieces of news inspired today’s James Bond / Beatles -based posting title.  The first was a personal experience just before Christmas.  One of the things I do with my copious free time is to help seniors with their computer problems.  A while back, one of the participants was a comparatively young man, probably in his late 40s.  He had had a hard time of life, suffering from alcohol abuse, working as a shrimp fisherman, and eventually losing a certain amount of cognitive function to a work-related accident.  More recently his house had burned down and his wife and daughter had left him to take care of his mother who is dying of cancer.  He was soft-spoken and very accepting of his fate, battling through his short-term memory problems to try to stay in email contact with his extended family in Iceland.  We managed to get some of his computer-related problems under control, but in late December I hadn’t seen him for some time.  I made a point of dropping by his mother’s house to deliver a Christmas card with a note suggesting we get together again in the new year.  When I asked if he was home, his mother said, “He’s dead.”  Apparently he had a heart attack in his sleep sometime in November.  I was completely dumbfounded.  Tomorrow never knows, indeed.

The second piece of news came courtesy of the BBC, and describes almost exactly the opposite situation.  This young lad was diagnosed with several forms of cancer.  During treatment he acquired other infections and his doctors despaired.  They predicted that he would die within days.  He didn’t.  In fact, he fought of his infections and now seems to be responding well to his cancer treatments.  My brief synopsis really does not do justice to this story:  you should watch the video.  This is a wonderful example of survival snatched from the jaws of death.  It is good to be reminded that uncertainty can have an up-side.  Tomorrow never knows….

In terms of my own health, lump-on-footmy biggest complaint right now is the lump in a very inconvenient place on top of my foot.  It is right on top of that very prominent bone, ideally placed to be rubbed up the wrong way by my shoes.  What is truly surprising about this is that it is the only example (so far!) of a melanoma tumour farther down my leg from the primary site.  It took me a while to realise what it was.  Fortunately it seems to be responding well to the IL-2 injections.  As you can see in the (TMI) picture, it shows signs of inflammation and there is a scab on top.  These symptoms result from my immune system killing off the cancer cells, leaving me with what amounts to a non-healing wound.  Eventually the lump will shrink to nothing and the scab will drop off, leaving just a small scar.  In the meantime, I’m looking forward to weather that will allow me to wear sandals, which will avoid rubbing on the damn thing.  I also had a couple more lumps removed from my calf (you really don’t want to see those pictures) so I’ll have to get some more stitches out next week.  Life goes on and winter can’t last forever.

News Roundup

Another bulging bag of bumph.  I’m just going to dump it on the floor here and let you sort through it.  Thanks, as usual, to Dr. DL and Mr. JP of Calgary, and others for contributing pointers.

Melanoma Stuff

News about Cancer in General

Thoughts and Other Mind Fillers

And this just in:

A cure for basically everything (video).  Dr. Mercola, Dr. Burzinsky et. al. please take note:  you have a competitor.

’nuff said.  BFN.



  1. I like your link to Alzheimer’s! There’s an odd sort of optimism in your posting that. Or maybe it is pessimism. Ha ha. I hope the irritating lump on your foot fades away only a symbolic scar (marker) of yet another battle won. If you win enough battles you may eventually win the war.

  2. Hey there was in an FB group and someone mentioned your blog, and you as a canadian (which I am) and had IL2 treatment. Which I really have heard to it being used in Canada. So I was just trying to determine from you blog what stage you were? But having a bit of a hard time. I am Stage 4, I have been for 2 years, I get treated at PMH. Not that I want IL2, well actually I have had it as I just completed the TILS or Adoptive cell therapy trial, which contains IL2. So I was just interested in knowing the stage in which they gave you IL2, most of my reading so far looks like it within the skin, but there is a lot of entries here lol! Thanks

  3. Sorry, again, or is this nodular (like I was) not everything is mostly just in my abdomen, and they tried IL2 directly into them.

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