A coworker lost his wedding ring playing softball today. I felt horrible for him and I didn’t know what to do. I felt like crap, but I felt even worse when I thought about how he was going to have to tell his wife that he lost the symbol of his marriage vows. I ended up not only purchasing $150 of equipment (2 metal detectors, flashlights, batteries) but I stayed with him until after midnight, when we finally gave up and decided to head for home

I guess I don’t know what else we could have done. I hate the fact that after four hours of searching, all I found was a penny and a bottlecap. It’s just not fair, is it? I guess it’s made even worse by the fact that now I probably won’t make it into work today, seeing as I barely got home and had something to eat before watching the clock strike 2am. But what was I supposed to do?

Then I wondered what happened to the rest of the team. A few people stayed around, and some even came back later on, which was great. Most people were gone within 15 minutes. I wonder what was so important that they couldn’t help us search for the ring. I know my evening involved sitting on the couch feeling sorry for myself, and that I was quite happy to put on hold – even if only for one night. At least there’s someone out there who’s got it comparably bad. Maybe.

Was it worth it? The last ounce of strength I had left to look for a needle in a haystack? Yes. And even knowing in advance that my searching would come up empty, I’d do it all again. Why, you ask? I suppose I blame my parents for raising me with integrity, because my boss isn’t going to understand “integrity” when I call in sick tomorrow.

(Look at me…blabbing on about how bad things are again. When are the HAPPY posts coming?)

Mood: FUCKING Tired.

I find it amusing to pee in public restroom directly after my treatments. In fact, sometimes I go just because I can. I usually don’t even flush! I mean, imagine the look on someone’s face as they walk up to a urinal or toilet and it’s full of bright orange pee! That’s gotta make them wonder how it got there or what it is, and things like that make me smile.

Mood: Subversive!

So it looks like I won’t be able to work much longer – probably another week or two at best. I just can’t handle the 9-to-5 thing. It would help if I was sleeping, or eating, or feeling anything close to normal. Today was a horrible day, and I ended up leaving work early. I now have only half a sick day left before I have to start just taking unpaid leave. I can’t afford too much of that, I’ll tell you right now.

The most important issue is whether or not I’m still an asset to my company. As it stands I’m still an effective member of the team, but for how much longer? Half days, slacking off, zone outs, are all become far too common. It’s only a matter of time before I cease to be an asset and become a liability. I would rather leave an asset and come back an asset, rather than let the quality of my work drift into dissarray.

So let the countdown begin. When and for how long remains a big giant question mark that will be decided by the insurance company and my body as time goes on. What the hell I’m going to do all day is something that’s going to bother me for some time. I fear I may go insane…or take up embroidery.

Mood: Worn Out.

As my MSN name can testify (“Travis: 4 Days Left”), the cat is finally out of the perverbial bag. Friday will be my last day at work for a while. The plan is 12-14 weeks, returning October 1st fully recovered and ready to go. Three months off…seems like an eternity. A lot can happen – or not happen – in that period of time.

For the most part, people seem relieved and supportive about all this. It’s been difficult to explain to different people the whole situation multiple times. I’m not happy about this. I don’t want to go. But it’s out of my hands; it’s in my blood. There has been no official announcement, so a few people know and others don’t. I think everyone that needs to know already knows, but I suppose at some point there will have to be a mass e-mail. I’m getting a little tired of having to explain this to everyone who asks. “Yes, I need to take some time off” “No, I don’t want to go.” “Yes, it’s going to suck. Thank you for pointing that out.”

I don’t know what’s going to happen to my job while I’m gone. Right now I have to force myself not to care. I don’t have any problems saying that I made this job what it is and I’m proud to have done it. I want to continue to do great things for this company, but I have to worry about Number One for the time being. I know there will still be a job waiting for me when I get back, but what job and in what capacity I don’t know. I suppose I should worry about that in October and for the moment just concentrate on getting better.

…but that would be FAR too logical, wouldn’t it?

Mood: Headin’ for Home

Okay. This clearly proves that my own geekiness will help me overcome this current situation.

Here I am on the eve of medical disability; leaving behind a job I love for three months so that I can concentrate on recovering from what up until this point in my life has been the largest and possibly the most important hurdle in my life…and I’m having a coniption fit over a video game.

But this is IMPORTANT SHIT here, people. I mean, which system do I buy the Megaman Collection for? Gamecube or PS2?

On one hand, the PS2 is the preferable system, which I have invested more money into, and will probably have for many years to come. But the Gamecube version is for Nintendo, which is the original platform that all of these Megaman games were featured on. I think there’s a moral obligation to keep the Blue Bomber (that would be Megaman, for you non-gamers) with the company that made him what he is today, but the PS2 has slightly better features, and I know that the PS3 will support this game when it comes out and I pay several hundred dollars for it.

Like I said, I’m more worried about that right now than anything else. This HAUNTS me. I’m probably going to lose sleep over it, too. Forget the cancer, what about MEGAMAN???

Mood: Situation Normal, All Fucked Up

I AM PERFECTLY CONFIDENT WITH THE SIZE OF MY PENIS. IT DOES NOT NEED ENLARGING OF ANY KIND, WHETHER IT BE VIA PILL, INJECTION, FOOD ADDITIVE OR RADICAL SURGERY. I ENJOY MY PENIS. OTHER PEOPLE ENJOY MY PENIS. MY PENIS IS JUST FINE, THANK YOU FOR ASKING. PLEASE STOP ASKING ME IF I WANT MY PENIS TO BE LARGER. I FEEL GOOD ABOUT MY PENIS.

And on a seperate note, I feel that my breasts are of an adequate size. There is no need to enlarge them or increase their firmness in any way. If I ever feel the need to make my breasts larger, I will consult a list of board-certified physicians available through my family doctor.

And while were at it; Tammy, I don’t want to meet with you. I don’t even know you. Your picture of you upside down with your underside exposed is very nice, but I’m just not attracted to you in that way. Please stop e-mailing me asking me to meet you. I doubt we’re even in the same city. Thank you for your offer to “fill every one of my dirty holes with your sweet man-juice” but I will have to respectfully decline on the grounds that I am a married man, and you are a figment of somebody’s imagination.

Does that about do it? Okay. Thanks.

Mood: Spammed!

Okay. Day One.

So far I’ve slept in, watched the last 10 minutes of “The View” *cringe*, played an hour of Megaman (ed.: Gamecube version), and completely ignored the fact that my apartment is a filthy filthy mess. I have to come up with some kind of plan for what I’m going to do to keep my brain productive during this annoying “bump in the road” (why do people keep calling it that?). So here’s the plan. Sort of a “What I will do on my Summer Vacation”:

• I will sleep as much as necessary
• If I feel like a nap, I’ll take a damn nap, no matter what I’m doing.
• I will make up a cliché/trendy logo for a fake company every day (maybe week)
• The idea is to parody modern design, not try to actually make good logos. It’s more for fun than for show. I think modern logo design is really quite horrible, so I’m going to try to do some of my own.
• I will watch less than 1 hour of TV per day.
• God I HATE Daytime TV. Please save me from Daytime TV.
• I will walk at least 2500 steps a day, when I feel up to it.
• I have a step counter, and that’s roughly the amount of steps to walk to and from Alissa’s work, so doing that shouldn’t be hard.
• I will redesign my website, www.travisgobeil.ca, completely
• I will make an advertising portfolio,
• showcasing ideas that go back more than 10 years.
• That’s it for now. I had more than that. I’ll fill the rest of my time with video games, probably. That’s not really a goal, though. I have to come up with a game plan of what games to play and in what order, but that’s really going overboard with the planning, I think.

Mood: Open!

So while the wait for the results wasn’t so much fun, the final word on my CT scan is definitely something worth noting. The Cancer is on the run. The tumours in my lungs are completely gone, and the main tumour (we call him Roy) has shrunk by three quarters. I guess you could call that good news, now couldn’t you? The tumour now measures 23mm by 44mm, which is WAY down from the original 55mm by 80mm. We’re happy about that, for sure.

This new is positive for sure, but not quite as positive as I was hoping. I was really hoping she was going to tell me the cancer was completely gone, instead of reducing in size. This also means that the small hope of only getting 2 more chemo treatments instead of 4 is officially gone.

But really, I should be happy. We should ALL be happy. Right? Why do I feel like this isn’t what I wanted to hear? It’s a lot better than “Sorry, Pal, you got 6 months” isn’t it? I guess preparing for the worst and hoping for the best doesn’t do much for results that are good but not fantastic. Maybe it will just take some time to sink in that this thing may just be in sight of being over. It’s consumed pretty much all aspects of my life, so living without this may take some getting used to.

Mood: Less Cancerous!