Decisions, Decisions

 Every day in our lives we are faced with decisions and choices. Most of the time they are pretty small. Do I want a salad, soup and salad, or fries with that steak. Small stuff. Regardless of what the choice, it boils to how you want to live. We all hear about how so many things are society, race, upbringing, economic standing, and that's what brought on X of a person's behavior. Some of that's true, but it all churns down to a personal choice. After all, there are plenty of good examples of what's right and wrong, and to say it's because they couldn't help it (barring some mental disorder) is a load of horse apples. We make our choices and generally have to live with the consequences. You choose to speed, don't bitch about the ticket. You choose to rob a home, don't cry because your ass is in jail. You're the Master of your fate whether you like it or not.

 All that being said, have I made all good decisions? Oh hell no, no way no how. As confident as I am in myself, I'm not so delusional to think every choice I've made has been wise. I guess the difference is learning from the mistakes and trying to make it right. And I've not done all that as I could have either. I try, that's no joke. But somethings are never going to be made right because of the choices I made.
I could have gone to college, gotten a degree, and been a miserable SOB in a job I'm sure I'd hate. Or unemployed whining about not being able to find work instead of getting out and changing careers. And I hear a lot of that. I've offered to get people jobs here in the oil field, and some of those folks out of work 2 years, only to hear "I'd never live in Texas!!" or "I'll never work in the oil field! I have a degree!". Good, tough shit for you, but quit bitching about your choice to be unemployed when the jobs have been offered you.

 Big rant that's going somewhere with Terminal Velocity, trust me. That's been bothering me a long time, and it's time to get it off my chest. Bless ya for putting up with it. Here's the reason why

 Almost 5 years ago, coming up in September, I was diagnosed with cancer. It was a secondary spot, localized in one lymph node in my lower left jaw line. I had biopsies of my mouth and throat, PET scans, CT's and a whole plate full of other tests. Everyone was sure it was localized and the primary spot had been killed by my body. Pretty cool. I had a choice of surgery plus chemo and radiation, or strong rounds of chemo and strong radiation. Both were about the same odds so I opted not to get sliced open. Chemo put me in the hospital for three days, radiation burnt me bag enough I bled from the cracked skin. And I got chemo once a week during the radiation. No fun, but it killed Baxter and after what seemed like forever, the second set of scans came back clear and I was sure I'd gotten it beaten down.

 Three years of all clear, and 4 years after my first diagnosis, Baxter the Bastard cancer was back. And pissed off. He was swelling my throat down, and at the time MD Anderson thought probably not into the bone of my jaw yet, but most likely would get there. The Drs, Liz and I discussed options.
They were surgery, which offered the best results after all the stuff I'd already had done. Chemo alone, which was no cure even then since I'd already had as much radiation as I could stand. Or do nothing and slowly be choked to death. Surgery seemed like a plan. As well as one Chemo cycle to slow down the tumor growth since the first open time for extensive surgery was in late January.
 The choice brought on this.
 While the chemo wasn't as harsh as 5FU on a five day infusion, it had it's own special wonders. So nauseous I couldn't eat. Hence the herbal enhancement, which made me sleep, then wake up and eat like a pig. It dried my skin out so badly my feet cracked and bled. My hair came out in chunks. The worst, the white cell growth promoting drug. Painful. I won't say how painful because I've got friends doing chemo, and they may have a different reaction and I surely do NOT want them to freak and not do the shots if they need them. It'll help keep them alive if they take the shot.
 On the plus side, I still had coffee with my buds. I could still eat. And after it was all said and done, I was back in the gym putting muscle weight back on and was feeling pretty spry

 I've already talked about what happened with surgery, and with all that I still think it was the best choice and decision. Yesterday Liz asked "What if we'd gone to MD Anderson in the first place?"
I figure it wouldn't have changed a thing. The tumor was isolated 5 years ago, and nothing showed up anywhere else . Besides, we both made that decision based upon the Dr opinion and all the research we did on the cancer on our own. It was a good decision and I'll stand by it until I die. Okay, bad choice of wording there. Addendum: The MD Anderson surgeon flat told us our first visit there, that given all the treatment I'd had previously, and with the surgery, if it came back, that was gonna be all she wrote. Good honest Doctor, I liked Holsinger. You guys at Stanford Medical got a hell of a good doctor, don't fuck it up.

 That brings us up to seeing the MD chemo folks. They said, "Do the Chemo". I asked about illness and the other parts of what they wanted. "Do the chemo", and "There are Clinical Trials". Hmmmm, this is a research hospital first and foremost. It's part and parcel to why the have a great cure rate and have done so much for curing cancer. I get that. First choice here "Let me do the chemo at home, I'll do one cycle. After what you described as symptoms, and since it's no cure and there's added chance of life being extended, no Clinical trials, thank you". Big decision, but mine. Twice more with pushing the clinical trial. I get that, it can help people down the road. Guess what? MD Anderson has probably 200 pages of files from every doctor, lab and treatment I've had. They have several different tumor sites and tissue from each. Blood samples for study, and my own observations that I saw all my Doctors right down. I'm no longer your test bunny. Sorry, I've given my share. No surgery? Hell yes I'd do the Clinical study. But I'd still be eating and speaking and would have all my muscle tissue where it belonged and not in my mouth or the lab or the trash. Different scenarios, different decision

Yesterday I see my local Onco. He goes over the chemo protocol with me, including how sick I'll get and pain involved. My port is blown out, so I'd have to have a PICC line. My veins from all the chemo and surgical IV's are blown down, it's hard to find a good spot to draw blood any longer. He goes over the balance of pain to gain. Something I understand. No pain, No gain, right? In this case pain and no gain. He recommends not doing it, I agree. But there's a caveat with that. Liz helps me with this decision. For twenty-two years we make decisions that effect both of us as a team. No sneaky shit, just hash it out and go from there. We live with our decisions, and the consequences there in.
 I come home and talk with Liz about it (she can understand a lot of what I say because she's used to it). I ask her what she thinks, "I don't want you to suffer". I set up an appointment for us to see the Dr together, so she can her what I heard, that way our decision NOT to do chemo is completely informed. It's a decision we've made, and one I'll stick with.

 So, Terminal Velocity got a little boost. I can't say how much of a boost, but even with chemo it was not much of a braking process. And besides, this is how we roll. Balls to the wall