I just finished a blood draw and injection, to turn my testosterone off, probably for good. I filled my coffee cup on the way out, to have one for the road. Some windows in a waiting room caught my attention, so I walked to them, sat, and wrote.
Wet snow is blowing by brown trees, in waves of wind. People walking to their cars are hunched over and pulling at their collers to keep the cold out.
Ruth sent me a text earlier asking if I was happy to be driving today, instead of cycling as I normally do on a on work days. I replied that I didn’t understand the the question, since it’s a great day for a ride.
She knows that I may mean that. As a kid, I used to run around in the wet winds of early winter. As an adult, I enjoyed holding on to that youthful spirit. I also saw more. Glancing out the hospital windows again, I love the beauty of the waves of wind and snow against the backdrop of dark trees. I love the force of it, and ironically, the grace of it.
Of course, it’s cold and uncomfortable, but that’s nothing good gear can’t fix. The fulfillment of defiance is certainly part of being out in that cold, but out there in good gear, the challenge and unique beauty are the closest thing to sacred that I personally know.
A few oncologists have told me that we probably won’t bring my testosterone back, ever. My cancer needs it too much. No testosterone for years will reduce my bone mass, muscle mass, and most of my sex drive. It’s strange and sad to think that will happen to my strong body, at age 51. Exercise will help, and the effects will take a couple of years.
I’ve thought about that a lot, let myself feel sad, and came up with a plan. Since exercise will help, I think I’ll cycle across the country, maybe around the world. With a bit of effort, I could use the ride to raise money for cancer research.
That ride would let me enjoy some time in a cold wet winter wind, and some sunnier days. One of the largest challenges has nothing to do with my body. It has to do with getting health care, since I wouldn’t be working during the ride. I’ll look for some solutions, beats sitting around.
So sad this cancer😢😣
Thanks Jack. It definitely is sad. I’ve been sad a lot, especially during the first year. But now that I’m finishing the second year, the times of feeling sad have been replaced with feeling annoyed. And you know what happens when our family gets annoyed for too long. We do something about it, usually something intense. That’s why I’m planning on cycling across the country sooner than later and why I’m enjoying life more than ever, especially my wonderful family.