Surgery Update and a Chance to Get a Free Book

Hey all,

Sorry, I lost track of a lot of things over the last few weeks, and so I totally forgot to let you know how the surgery went. There's a lot, so I'll try to summarize it.

Doctor said the surgery went perfectly. For those who don't know, I had my right knee totally replaced, which is joint replacement number ten. I'm now only three away from obtaining the world record. I was surprised at how easy walking was, and was out of bed not long after I woke up from surgery. What sucks are the exercises. Bending was not easy, and for over a month I was struggling with simple range of motion, but with the swelling mostly gone and after a lot of work, I've whittled away a lot of the stiffness. Currently, I'm able to bend the knee to 117°. The other goes to about 130°, so I'm pretty close to returning to a normal range of motion. When I saw the doctor last week, he was pleased with my progress and said everything is coming along well so far. I get to drive again!

I'm happy to say my memoir, Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard, had a great weekend in book sales. Last weekend, (May 12-14), several hundred copies were downloaded on Amazon. Since the book came out, I've been working hard on all the marketing and publicity myself, and have had some good results so far. There is still a lot to do, but that's pretty much always true when it comes to marketing. I'm also glad to hear so many people have enjoyed the book and the writing, as well as the message of the reality of life after cancer.

Saturday, I went to the San Diego Writing Workshop. It was really informative and helpful, and the speaker, Brian Klems, was hilarious. It was especially helpful with regards to publishing and getting an agent. I'm currently querying agents to find someone to help promote my book and garner more publicity for it. Fingers crossed.

Haven't read the book yet? Then maybe you want to participate in the...

Book Giveaway

Want to receive a free copy of my memoir? I'm currently running a Goodreads giveaway. There are 25 print copies available, all you have to do is click and you're entered to win one of these books!

I'd also like to ask anyone who has already purchased the book to leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. I'm always curious to see what people think of my writing.

Thanks to everyone who has supported me since my diagnosis, and to all those who have helped me with the book and getting it out there, it has all meant a great deal to me.

Until next time (which isn't going to be nearly as long),
Ciao

Another Joint Closer

Well, tomorrow's #10. Ten joint replacements. I guess I'm a deca-replacer (that's a horrible name, I'll work on it). I'm getting my right knee replaced, again. The first time was a partial replacement that did well for a few years, but pain has cropped up in other parts of the knee, so, time to hack it out. I still have a few surgeries after that, but it's a good step toward being able to live a better life. And also to being a robot. That's the ultimate goal. And getting the world record for most joints replaced. I guess there's a lot of goals.

The other goal is my book. Over the last few weeks I've been putting out a lot of feelers with regards to my memoir, Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard, and it's paying off. I've gotten interest from a couple national cancer magazines about my story and work to educate people about the challenges survivors face after cancer. I'm crossing my fingers about getting it published, so we'll see where it goes.

And, do you want to win free copies of my book and other prizes? I'm running a referral contest on Surviving the Cure's IndieGoGo campaign. You can either donate, yourself, or you can share the campaign and get free prizes based on how much your friends and family donate. All you have to do is go to the campaign page, find the share tools to the right of the "Back It" button, and use that so your referrals can be tracked and rewarded! The money is going to helping me raise awareness for the challenges cancer survivors face in order to improve their support and quality of care, and also to let them know they aren't alone in having to deal with problems.

I'll update you guys after surgery, when I'm coherent enough to update you, anyway.
Well...coherent-ish.

Ciao

PS: If you buy the hard copy of my book and bring it to me, I'll sign it. Even if I'm not that coherent, which might make it really interesting.

No Surgeries? We Can Fix That

First, I want to thank those who participated in the poll to pick my cover. I have selected and finalized the design. So, without further ado...

I am very pleased with how it turned out. I feel it does an excellent job embodying my story and the truth of what life after cancer is really like.

My next post will talk more about the book, including its release date and an excerpt. Information regarding my book can be found here, or at the top of the page in the Memoir: Surviving the Cure section. 

Now, I want to share what has been going on the past few weeks with me.

A few weeks ago, I realized something astonishing. I didn't have a single surgery all of last year! That's right, 2016 is the first year I've gone without surgery since...well, I was diagnosed actually. That didn't sit well with me, so I'm having two surgeries—and possibly up to four—to make up for it. For sure, I know I have to replace my right knee (I did a partial replacement in 2012, but the damage in the original part of the bone causes a lot of pain). Also, I have a screw loose—but let's get back to surgery. I'll be having an arthroscopy on my right ankle to clear out arthritis and remove the screws from my 2010 ankle allograft (replacement). I also have to get my left knee replaced (same situation as right knee), and might have the rest of the screws removed from my left ankle (I had one removed in November 2015), but whether those take place this year or the next is still up in the air. But having both knees replaced will bring me up to 11 joints replaced—one off tying the world record! 

No, not THAT World Record!

Yesterday, I had my hips checked out. They've been hurting for the last few months. However, the doctor said they looked fine. I was glad to hear that, but then a little part of me whispered, "Yeah, but now you have to wait to replace them and get the record!" So...bummer? Somewhat conflicted, but definitely leaning toward being happy not to have to hack off my body parts.

On a different track, I've been engaging more in the cancer community, in particular the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's online forum. Mostly, I give advice to people and discuss what life after cancer is really like, not what most people think. It's messy, there's usually numerous complications and problems (see world record attempt), and the amount of support is drastically reduced compared to when someone is actually going through cancer treatments. But that's why I'm writing my story, to educate the public on the reality of survivors. My goal is to help advocate for survivors to help get them the best quality of life possible. Fingers crossed. 

Until next time,

~Andrew

A Finished Memoir and Double Digits

Eight months. It feels longer, shorter. My focus hasn't been on time, it's been on productivity. On staying sane. Staying on task. And there's been a lot going on. But really, the big, most important news, is this: After six drafts, four major surgeries, three and a half years, one nervous breakdown, much consternation, (and a partridge in a pear tree)... I finished my memoir!
Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard.

*relatively speaking

That's right. I have done about as much as I can with this thing. It has been written, edited, and formatted to the point continuing to work on it is nitpicking the minutia—borderline OCD. All that remains is to work on the cover, publishing, and marketing, and then that's that. I'll have a book, published (seriously), and one of the most daunting, stressful, hated, agonizing, rewarding projects in my entire life will be no more.

What then?

Well, the marketing will be a continuous process. I'm working with Nick on these things, seeing as he has a better grasp on what to do than me. But I've been researching a lot lately and have found some strategies that might help, so we shall see how that goes.

Of course, this blog wouldn't be about me if something wasn't wrong with my body. So, without further ado, I present...my tenth joint replacement!

That's right, I will soon be into the double digits with replaced joints! That's only two away from tying the world record (which is kinda BS, because although the winners had twelve joints replaced, several were knuckles. I mean, seriously?). My right knee has been harrying me for a while now, and so a retaliatory strike is required in the form of a total knee replacement sometime in the next few months. The left knee will probably also need fixing soon, and replaced joints don't last forever, so I'm highly confident the world record will be mine at some point! I probably shouldn't be too pleased to get it, but if I have to deal with this crap anyway, why not get something out of it?

Before I sign off, I did have a couple quick closing comments.

• I am currently cover-less. If anyone knows, or is, somebody who does graphic design and might be interested in designing a cover for a memoir, I would love to hear from you or the person you know to discuss pricing and ideas.
• Since this is a self-published book (for now), if you or anyone you know might have connections to people/companies/non-profits who would be interested in a book about the difficulties survivors face in life after cancer, or interested in helping to spotlight the rarely discussed aspect of survivorship, I would be pleased to accept any help in this area. 
• I believe my book has the potential to help bring this very important issue into the public eye so cancer patients and survivors can receive help not just in preventative care, cancer treatments, and diagnostic tools, but in the battle to pick up the pieces once their cancer is in remission.

And with that, I bid thee farewell, until the next post. (Which hopefully isn't months and months from now. I'm working on that.)

Ciao
~Andrew

Rollercoaster (Featuring Claire)

If you want to look at it from a glass half full perspective, then this recent reclusiveness was a lot shorter than the last one. A month and a half versus five months? That's better. If you want to look at it from a glass half empty perspective...then keep it to yourself. Or myself, since I'm the one struggling NOT to look at the glass as half empty.

Speaking of struggling...

These last few weeks have been extremely difficult for me. At times I've felt like I was on the verge of losing control like I had in January, although I am happy to report that this week has been substantially better than the last two or three. I'd actually started writing this post over a week ago and the saved draft I had was wildly different from what I'm feeling now. I think it really sums up just how much of a roller coaster this year has been for me.

There are two big events that I can cite for my increased anxiety and reclusivity (I need to get this word in the dictionary, I don't care what anyone else thinks). Firstly, I've run into another major hurdle with my health: knees. For those who don't know, I've actually replaced parts of my knees before, back in 2012 (right) and 2013 (left). When most people think of joint replacement, they think of the total joint replacements that involve fitting an artificial device where the puny organic joint used to be. But for me, the doctor and I decided that we would approach it from a different route: allograft. Essentially an allograft can be explained as a bone replacement. It appears to have a better lifespan than the artificial joints and, being younger than most recipients of new joints, it made more sense to do an allograft so I would not need to undergo surgery again for a longer period than I would have if I'd scored myself a total knee replacement. However, the allograft didn't replace the whole joint, just the most damaged parts (although the doctor did say that the allografts were looking really good, the best part of the knee actually). There is still a large amount of AVN (degeneration and dead bone) in my knees, and over the last few months I've noticed an uptick in the amount of pain experienced in both joints. I saw the doctor about a month ago and he couldn't exactly pin down what was wrong, but he basically said that there wouldn't be any major fix for the pain except to just scrap the whole knee and put in a shiny new artificial one. Needless to say, I was extremely displeased with this news. I'd just finished up getting both my shoulders replaced (both total joint replacements) and thought I was in the clear for at least another 5-10 years (when the artificial joints put in 5 years ago might need to be replaced again). Several months of no physical problems left me cautiously optimistic, because I'd pretty much replaced everything I could replace, but I can't remember anytime in the last 8 years when there hadn't been some major complication at least one or two times a year, so I felt overdue for something. So when the doctor said "Probably have to replace the whole thing," I was both shocked and unsurprised.

I took a couple weeks to decide whether I wanted to replace them or not, after all, the pain isn't debilitating yet. But what really drove me to say yes was the fact that he wouldn't have any surgery openings until the end of September. I didn't trust Murphy to play nice (I suspect my life is guided by Murphy's Law, as discussed in the blog post A Murphaic Victory). Rather than wait until the pain became debilitating and unbearable (assuming it ever did), I didn't want to wait until the pain got that bad to schedule the surgery and then be forced to wait several months in agony while I waited to get fixed. By scheduling it now, I have a safeguard in place in case they DO get worse, and if they don't I can always cancel. It all sounds solid, but for some reason that no matter how hard I try to explain, nobody really seems to be able to fully grasp (which is understandable, seeing how my situation borders on being unique) why making that call and scheduling the surgery was so difficult and painful for me. It feels like giving up. And at a time where I'm just starting to come back into the world and maybe even look forward to what the future has in store for me, it all comes (potentially) crashing back down to Earth and the same cycle of replacements and surgeries and setbacks all rushes back into place. Stuck. Scheduling the surgery makes me stuck. I won't pretend very many people will understand why the two-minute phone call undid two months of exhausting mental work at Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), but I'll leave it out there in case someone does manage to figure it out.
Summary (in case none of the above makes sense): My knees, which had already been partially replaced, are now beginning to hurt again. The doctor told me the only real solution would be to completely replace them, so I scheduled a surgery for the end of September as a safeguard for if the pain gets worse. It's stressed me out a lot.

The proof is somewhere in there

Now that the small essay you may or may not have just finished reading is over, I can move onto the second big reason for my increased anxiety and depression: diagnosversary. Sunday marks the eighth year of my leukemia diagnosis. Some years it hasn't been too bad, others it's been the worst day of the year. With my mental state the way it is, inherently unstable and only just starting to recover, perhaps it's more than a little underst
andable that I am what the kids call "freaking scared." The anticipation is definitely one of the worst parts (and I'm sure I've mentioned how much waiting is the worst part of anything medical), but coupled with my very recent recovery and scheduling the surgery, I've become exceedingly anxious about the day. Thinking or talking about it makes me anxious, I just caught myself holding my breath for the last minute and noticed all my muscles were tight and my body felt jittery and flighty. Perhaps why I am so nervous is because of how anxious I am NOW, not even on the actual day. The day is a symbol of a life thrown off the rails. It brings up memories that I've so deeply suppressed that I didn't even know they were there. Maybe the reason it's so bad is because I fixate on it and work myself up into a tizzy in the days leading up to it. In my last day of CBT, I discussed my anxiety and somebody pointed out that the day only means something because I make it mean something. Sunday is just Sunday after all. I think I've known that for a while, but trying to tell myself things that could be helpful for me...well let's just say I tend to discount much of the positive self-talk I attempt. It's a lot easier for me to accept something coming from someone else. I'm really going to try my best to remind myself that it is a day just like any other, that the only power it has over me is the power I give it. Easier said than done obviously, but it's certainly a new approach that warrants a try. I could also reframe it in a positive light: I'm alive. Sure, that day may have pushed me into a life nobody would ever ask for, but I made it through and survived it all. I guess the proof will be in the pudding, although why anybody would bury proof in a pudding is utterly beyond me.

The Old Guard with Mr. Swan

Quick life tidbit: I went to a send-off for my high school drama teacher Mr. Swan last night. I thought there would be tons of alumni there, but it turned out to also be the awards ceremony for the kids at the high school (most of whom are ten years younger than I am. Nothing makes you feel older than being in a room with kids nearly half your age). When I got there, I only saw children and immediately wondered if I had the wrong night. Nick came in a few minutes later, also being a theater geek from back in the day, and for nearly half an hour we thought we were the oldest people in the room. Luckily, there was a group of our peers from back in the day sitting at a table on the other side of the room. Only a few of us "old people" showed up, but we had a raucous good time reminiscing about drama and looking at old pictures of ourselves in plays. It was an emotional night for just about everyone there, but it was really good to see some of the old thespian buddies and to catch up afterward over a beer and talk about all sorts of things (ranging from Chinese words never to say in America to expensive toys to amusing stories from our lives). There is going to be another get together, this time with a lot more of the Old Guard (which is very literal for me, because in both Shakespeare plays I performed in, I played guards) at a restaurant later this month. I'm pretty excited to see a lot of the people I expected to see at the send-off last night.

This last week has been better for me. I think a lot of that has to do with me being extremely busy running around San Diego (not literally, I save that for Nick) to doctor appointments and whatsuch. I've also been a lot more social and have been doing my best to talk to and hang out with several friends of the last week or so. I also forced myself into writing more. I've been reluctant and anxious about finishing a long short story that I am enamored with. I didn't know why I was anxious about sitting down to work on it every time I went to write, but last night I figured it out. When I'm done with this story, I have no excuse or distraction to keep me from getting back to editing my memoir, Life Has No Title. Currently, I'm stopped at the very worst time in my life. This section was not only the most difficult to live through, but also the most difficult to write. At a time where I'm worried about memories being triggered by the diagnosversary, perhaps it's not hard to imagine why I would be finding any way (whether conscious or not) to prevent myself from going back to work on the project that literally takes my most painful memories and shoves them in my face for me to reread and edit. But...I know I have to do it. I've got lots of wonderful feedback from my neighbor (the first professional feedback I've ever gotten to this extent, which was nerve-racking in and of itself) so I will be able to go back into the book with a lot better sense of how to edit it. But holy damn am I really not looking forward to this. I need to force myself to do it though because this is extremely important and I need to face my fears. Not just face them, but overcome them. It'll be cathartic. I hope.

Ciao for now

PS: By the next post I hope to have some pretty exciting news regarding the memoir. Appendages crossed!

PPS: Claire says hi

My 7th Birthday

Hi blog,

Apologies for the gap. I've been trying to get a handle on everything and it's been frustrating and draining to say the least. The closer the surgery gets the more things seem to pop up to deal with. I'm definitely going to be looking forward to a nice, relaxing, pain-filled break after I get my shoulder replaced in exactly two weeks, let me tell you.

I was going to put a picture of a knee with AVN, but then I
decided this was a much better option. Don't you think?

Well, I suppose you're waiting to hear about the knee. I am too, I only just had the MRI on Saturday so I won't be learning anything from that for another few days probably. However, two days before that I went in to see my knee specialist (the first guy I saw was my general practitioner, who also does sports medicine) and the x-rays looked about normal, same as before. But then he pulled up a knee MRI I had done back in May (I didn't even remember having it) and he showed me the inside of my knee. It wasn't pretty. The majority of the interior was made up of necrosed (dead) bone. To be fair, this isn't exactly news to me. I've known that there was a lot of necrosis for a while, because of my Avascular necrosis (a degenerative bone disease caused by steroids. See here for details), but as long as the dead stuff stays inside the bone and doesn't penetrate to the surface, it's not going to cause any pain. Well, there was a tiny tentacle of necrotic (just using all sorts of variations of the word today aren't I?) bone snaking down through a big patch of it and had just barely breached the surface. There was only a tiny spot exposed, and my specialist thinks that might be what's causing the knee pain.
Theory: Because the pain only really shows up when I bend my knee at certain angles, that small dead spot is rubbing against something at that certain angle and causing the pain. When I get this newest MRI back I'll learn two things. A) Whether or not the little spot has grown any, 2) What can be done about it, assuming something needs to be done about it. Obviously there's a lot of speculation here, and that in itself is driving me up the wall. As accepting as I am about the shoulder surgery, the possibility that I might need another replacement (if the necrosis is spreading in the knee and the pain continues to get worse, my specialist might recommend surgery again) after that has done nothing to improve my mood. Frankly, I'm pissed. Murphy, always Murphy.

But that's neither here or there now so I'm trying not to think about it too much (and not doing a very good job). The book editing has been coming along, not great or fast, but it is progressing at least. Unfortunately there are more pressing things to do than editing my memoir. I'm not happy about it, because this memoir is literally the most important thing to me, but what can you do?

Let's talk about something pleasant. I feel this whole post has had a somewhat sour tinge to it. But now for something uplifting and cheerful! (Kinda) Two days ago I had my 7-year rebirthday (and I think I'm having a regular one in a few days too). In some ways, I am seven years old. This me, right now, is only seven years old. It's when I got my bone marrow transplant from marrow harvested from my brother Chad's hip bone (the needles look like something out of the Spanish Inquisition).  October 12, 2007 is when I got my new life, a new chance.

Excerpt from Life Has No Title:

When you receive an infusion of bone marrow, the staff up at City of Hope calls it your “birthday,” the day where you’re given new life and, in a sense, reborn. October 12, 2007 is my oncological birthday. The doctor for the day, Dr. Pawlowska (spelled right the very first time!), came in with a nurse carrying a bag of what I at first believed was blood. I had known that my mom was organizing people to donate blood for after I had my bone marrow transplant, and thought that before I could receive it I would need to bolster my cell counts, but I was mistaken. Instead, the ruddy-colored viscous liquid was the bone marrow! This piqued my interest a great deal, insofar as someone who is hopped up on a staggering amount of dilaudid can do anything to a great deal. I had been paying as much attention as possible, learning what I could about this and that, gaining as much knowledge as a second-year med school student in the process. If I had the energy to focus, I would listen in on conversations and pick up some odd terminology or medical explanation for whatever god-forsaken side effect I had picked up that day.

“How are you today good sir?” Dr. Pawlowska asked in her thick-accented way. It was the same question every time she saw me in the morning. “How are you today good sir?”

Most days I would respond with, “Okay I guess.” Or “Not too great.” I was a master of understatement. But today, I gathered up a smile and told her, “Excited. That’s the bone marrow?”

“It is. We’ll just hook this up and you’ll be good to go.”

“Wait…how does it get into my bones then?” I asked suspiciously. As far as I could tell, there were no nanobots lurking in the substance ready to transport the bone marrow from my bloodstream into the centers of my bones, where they would thrive and drive out the remnants of my treasonous cells.

Dr. Pawlowska offered up a tentative smile. “To be honest, we’re not entirely sure. I could tell you all about the different theories and everything, but nothing has been proven definitively. They sort of magically find their way into the bones.”

Magic. One of the last words you want to hear when a doctor is explaining such an important medical procedure to you. “Magic,” I repeated slowly, not entirely sure if I had misheard her in my drug-induced haze.

“Magic,” she reaffirmed.

We looked at each other for a long moment, then I shrugged and lay back in my bed, too exhausted to argue and knowing that the good doctor knew what she was doing, even if she wasn’t sure about the exact nature of the procedure. “Good enough for me. Let’s get started.”

So there you go. Chad saved my life. I wouldn't be here if he hadn't donated his marrow. The poor kid got stabbed by a thousand saw-toothed needles, woke up so groggy he couldn't figure out how to properly use a straw and had a sore hip for several days. I have him to thank for this second chance and the ability to continue to live and enjoy life, all the things I love: writing, space, science, friends, family, space. I'll never be able to repay that, but at least I can pester him with interesting space facts the next time I see him.

PS: Comet Siding Spring will be flying past Mars on October 19 at a distance of 89,000 miles (much closer than the moon is to Earth). It'll be awesome.

Your 7-year-old Master,
Andrew Bundy

Hectic

Hi blog,

Apologies for the late post, my computer recently attempted some bizarre form of self-destruction and I put it in the time out corner...forever. In its place is a new computer that seems to function normally as of writing this, so I shall stick with this one because I like functional technology. But the technology has not been the only hectic thing going on lately, it's been a veritable madhouse of events and non-events.

The magnetic donut

Still no word on my knee. In fact, I still haven't even had the MRI. I should have included in last week's post about the fun MRI waiting games "Hey MRI, when are you going to get scheduled so I can actually learn something?" But I have a date with a giant magnetic donut machine on October 10th, so at least that's good. Although if it takes two weeks to get figured out, I'll be cutting it really close to my surgery date on the 28th of the same month. Down to the wire!

It is now official: I have begun (in earnest) on the second draft of my memoir. Please, please, hold the applause. Oh, there is none...right, well keep holding it then. After Nick got back from insane death race in which he kicked proverbial ass (because kicking a real ass usually pisses off its owner, or worse, it'll kick you back), we shortly resumed work on our books. Nick has been screaming through his (I'm not sure if that's literal, you'd have to ask him) and cranking through his edits at a blistering pace. Meanwhile, I am trudging through the quagmire of my childhood and questioning the legitimacy of keeping any of it for the final product of the book. It's an agonizingly slow, painful, annoying process to go through nearly 40 pages of probably unnecessary junk to sift out what is important, especially when you know the real content hasn't gotten done and you feel like all you're doing is wasting time when really you'll have to rewrite that whole section almost completely. And the feeling that I have to rewrite that entire childhood-high school section is reinforced by reading Lance Armstrong's 2000 memoir and seeing how much more compelling the telling of his story is than the telling of my story (at least through the pre-cancer parts). It's driving me crazy, knowing that what I've done is supremely subpar work and having very little idea how to fix it save for scrapping it all and starting over is just...GAH!

Anyways...I'm at least making progress through it and am now on the edge of getting to the real meat of my story. Progress has been slowed somewhat by a resurgence in physical issues (discussed shortly), but I'm doing my best to push through them and get the work done anyways.

(Told you it was shortly)

Well if I ever had a nickel for a dime, I'd tell you that the first part of this sentence makes no sense. However, I'd also tell you that my migraines have crept back in when I wasn't looking. Over the last week I've been dealing with borderline crippling headaches, and over the last two days the headaches haven't been borderline at all, they've been full-force Andrew-stopping nightmares. I'm not sure where this sudden surge of headpain comes from, but I suspect it's stress-related. The other option is that my preventative migraine medication is no longer functional. This happened last year with a different medication, which I'd been taking for a year. Now that I think about it, I've been taking this new medication for about a year too. That's probably just a weird coincidence that I don't particularly like at the moment.

But let's focus on something else: my shoulders! The right shoulder continues to improve and is now functioning just as well, if not BETTER than the left shoulder! Then again, this might not be as impressive as it sounds, because my left shoulder is slowly deteriorating at an increasingly not-so-slow pace. In fact I can hear the grinding crackling crunches when I rotate my left shoulder in certain ways, which, although they don't hurt, elicit a kind of anticipatory wince for the pain that doesn't come. But I'm not worried about the left shoulder, because I'm getting a better one soon anyways. What's more important is my right shoulder and how it's been holding up. The range of motion is improved, the pain is nonexistent at the best of times, and not as bad as it used to be at the worst of times. I'm continuing to stretch and work on both shoulders, both in physical therapy and at home (although probably not as much as I should be at home, but that's something I'm working on), and I think I can expect a very good recovery for the right shoulder, and the left one once that's been dealt with.

All right, time for me to fly off and do something. Ciao blog and readers!
Your aeronautic overlord, Andrew

In Kneed

Hey blog,

Well I owe you a quick update.

Knee

It's still attached, which is a good start I think. I saw the doctor a couple days ago (the first one who isn't a knee specialist) and after inspecting my x-rays, with much apprehension on my part, he says there isn't any new bone damage that would be the cause of the pain. There are some bone spurs, but comparing the new x-rays to old ones taken before I had my knee surgeries, they haven't changed and there aren't any new ones. So bone damage is ruled out. That's good, it means I probably won't have to replace my knee and it confirms that the bone allografts are holding up well. Dat ist goot. The doctor believes that the pain is brought about by some issue with the cartilage. Either the cartilage in the painful spot is rough in some manner and grates against the knee or it pulls back when I bend the knee and allows the bone to grind against bone. The only way to find out is through MRI scans, so now comes the fun waiting game of "MRI when are you going to call me to get done and then afterwards will I have to wait two weeks to actually learn the results?" Perhaps we can shorten the title to "MRI how long will this take?" Or even shorter: "MRI be on time." I like that.

(Note: The last couple times I've had MRIs it took over two weeks to hear back about the results, which left me stressed out and anxious because waiting is the single worst thing people have to do on a regular basis.)
(Second note: The picture above is substantially less gruesome than the other one I thought briefly about showing. There's an interesting story about that shoved into my book somewhere though. Basically: don't open computer files from your doctor unless you are absolutely sure what they contain, unless you like being surprised by blood and body parts.)

This is what I look like when I'm surprised, although with more of a beard probably

So that's the knee. Besides that there isn't a whole lot to report. I just spent the last week doing essay after essay and knocking back some reading and doing a couple tests and all that jazz and funk and blues and other musical genres that relate to that. Nothing interesting on that front. Nothing new with writing, nothing new with anything else. Too busy for new things. Maybe that's not so bad though? I did write a poem. It's kinda weird. Okay it's a lot weird. That's good though, it's one of the few poems I've written (and one of the only ones I've liked). That's it on writing.

OH!

Nick, who was in Italy training for this insane race called the Tour of Giants (Tor des Géants), did his race and placed second (making him the first America to ever finish on the podium in this race)! He hasn't put out a race report yet because he just got back to the states yesterday, but here's a post he did about the list of things he learned while training for this brutal race of doom: Thing he did before the race. Tor des Geants is probably one of the more insane things he's ever done. Before you go "Oh it's probably not super crazy. Like a couple marathons maybe?" No. No. Try 205 miles (330 kilometers) over several days of running up and down mountains. His time? 76:29:38. Yea, just over three days of running. In case you hadn't figured it out yet, Nick is insane. 

That's all I have for you today. Check back later when more things will be added.

Your knee'dy ruler,
Andrew

Sometimes It Crashes Around You

Hi blog,

Apologies for the abnormally long pause in post, I'd been meaning to do post more frequently and instead the exact opposite happened. It's something to work on.

Part of the reason for not posting when I normally do is because there really isn't all that much going on. It's been relatively low-key over the last couple weeks and finding anything interesting is a bit of a challenge. That applies to positive things though, there's been a slew of neutral and negative things piling up, which accounts for the other reason I didn't post at the normal time: I'm feeling overwhelmed.

Looking at nudibranchs...great stress reliever

My version of overwhelmed seemed oddly calm compared to some people's, but it's less about the workload and more about the mental taxation it puts on me in terms of anxiety and stress. I've been scrambling to get a number of school-related issues cleared up and have been running into nonsense after nonsense that pushes me back two steps for every one I put forward. Coming across all this bureaucratic BS that has been making it difficult to get anything done, I've become more and more stressed as these tasks are added to even more things I need to do, creating a backlog of different chores and assignments that doesn't ever seem to get any smaller. Mixed in with the schoolwork that I'm not quite used to just yet and it leads to me feeling anxious. I've managed to whittle away at some of these projects but then something else will come up that needs to get done and the neverending march does its own whittling on my heavy mind.

But why is my mind heavy? Surely it may be frustrating to deal with all these assignments, but it's not impossible to deal with them given the time and the mental stamina. Within the latter lies my other major problem. I'm worn out mentally and emotionally exhausted. You might think the upcoming surgery is weighing heavily on my mind, but really it isn't. In my last post I discussed how it actually was somewhat of a relief to get it out of the way. Instead, my taxing problem is with my knee. For almost nine months now I've been experiencing some new form of new pain within my right knee. I had that one replaced with an allograft almost two years ago to deal with the same degeneration that has plagued the rest of my body. This new pain started off minor, so I didn't think much of it, just some pain because I was doing a lot more walking after a semester of on campus classes for the first time. However, it recently kicked up to a much sharper level last month and my mind invariably goes to the worst-case scenario of severe damage, either due to further degeneration or a failure of the allograft. I didn't do anything about it for a few weeks, in part because I was almost overwhelmed from all the other work, but mostly because I didn't want to find out what it was and learn I might need to have yet another surgery. "But Andrew, don't you like surgery? You just said-" Bugger what I just said. This is different, this wasn't expected. It's forced to light a problem and possibility I've been trying to ignore for a while now: that the rest of my life could be spent fixing one problem or another, that the surgeries will end up being continuous as one problem emerges. I hoped to avoid further surgeries and have all my replacements hold up for at least ten years, and now I'm facing (what I think) is a real possibility that something very bad is wrong with my knee. Of course, I could be wrong, but this kind of deep, sharp pain is eerily reminiscent of my pre-surgery knee pain. I had x-rays done of it a couple days ago, but couldn't get in to see my knee specialist until October 9th since he's out of the office for almost all of September. Instead I'll be going to my general practitioner, who luckily is a sports doctor so at least he knows damaged bones when he sees them. I can get a preliminary idea of what's wrong from him I hope and then see the knee specialist to be absolutely sure.

All in all, I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping because if I bend my knee to a certain angle the pain kicks in (and because I'm a rabid insomniac to start with). Actually it only hurts within a certain angle and otherwise is fine. It could be because there's something grinding against something else or a spur of some kind. Now I have to wait for over a month wondering what's wrong with my knee and try to live as normal a life I can, getting things done and continuing to rehab my shoulder. Maybe I'm just blowing this all wildly out of proportion, but my mind already has had the idea and now, in its tenacious desire to freak me out, it won't let me abandon it. It feels like everything is happening all at once, raging and howling at me like some vindictive hellstorm that whips up a frenzied tsunami as I stand helplessly in the middle of my 10' by 10' walled fortress plopped squarely in a vast ocean of problems. I'm just waiting for the waves and the wind to sweep me away as I watch the churning water crash around me, slowly but surely eroding the not-so-very solid rock beneath my feet and knocking bricks from my flimsy walls. All I can do is watch and occasionally stick a brick back in place, feeling like an exercise in futility.

Andrew stared unseeingly at his computer screen for a couple minutes, the imagery all too real in his head as yet more concerns about his knee taunted him. Then he blinked and took in a deep breath, which escaped in a slow, steady sigh ending with more finger movement across the keyboard.

...annnnyyyyways...

I'm supposed to be working on my memoir but that got kicked aside as soon as school started abruptly. Maybe since I'm not sleeping I can work on the outline I keep promising Nick I'll do. I really need to get that done. My writing has not totally suffered though! Positive note time, because I hate ending on less than positive news. I've been working on a revamped version of a short story I wrote four years ago and finally finished the rough draft and posted it online a few days ago on a few different websites. Officially, it's a Harry Potter "fanfic," but if you've read this blog even just a couple times you should know better than to expect something normal. In fact, you should be downright suspicious because I'm not the kind of person to write nice, fluffy pieces (as evidenced by the brutality of The Eagle and the Milk or the pure oddity of Fruity Pebble Tea), although I have been known to indulge in them from time to time. Most of my short stories are more along the lines of the two examples given above though, so if you do read the Harry Potter "fanfic" (there's a reason for the quotation marks) just be aware of what you're getting yourself into. Links to the various sites for the story will be posted below. PS: I wrote a poem as well, you probably guess it is weird and odd and quirkly. You're right.


Message for Mr. Potter - FanFiction
Message for Mr. Potter - Archive of Our Own
Message for Mr. Potter - Wattpad
Message for Mr. Potter - Goodreads

I think that's about enough for today. I might update on Monday if I have anything worth mentioning. Feel free to share the Harry Potter "fanfic" if you want, or don't, that's fine too.

Blog, you might have to deal with more erratic posting habits for a bit while I work to get my life under some semblance of control, but I shall not forget you! (Probably)

Your tired tyrant,
Andrew