
O asegurar que fue Serrat el compositor de Banana
O que subsistan poetas sin ventana
O un optimista que no crea en maƱana
Asi de ilogica es mi vida sin ti
Asi de ironica, asi de estupida
Me siento intruso en mi propia casa
Y no hay quien me explique lo que pasa"
I have an MRI tomorrow. There are cancer patients, warriors, whatever moniker we gravitate towards that call it a simple check up/in. There are others who refer to the process as scanxiety. I long ago decided that if/when this tumor ever grows, I am not doing anymore surgeries or drugs. I have a Do Not Resuscitate Legal Order as well as a Futile Care one that are solid with Texas laws. So when MRI's come, I'm getting ready to die. I know that sounds morbid but it's true; there's a variety of things I do in the last week or two before imaging that are preparation, all of which there are exactly zero people who know it all, some of which there isn't even one person who knows it.

These events are sometimes interpreted as the way I fight but that's a myth. Why I run so much more than I do certainly is with doctors having sent me a study that showed that long distance runners have a higher survival rate. No, the fact that my highest concentration of events is right around MRI's isn't about that, it's about coping, hoping about just accepting the reality that if there are somethings that I put off later that MRI may well decide to tell me that later is never. If nothing else, it makes never be more delayed in the intensity it takes to arrive.

I realize that some of my way of living has panned out well. I am still standing here a few years later and I had lunch with a friend this week who is doing his first marathon between my MRI and the results in the exact marathon I recommended in Seattle. I want that image in my head. I've been raising Kiana to be very independent, something I exaggerated in my parenting style presuming I wouldn't be around. Last week she made us dinner on Wednesday, lunch on Thursday and breakfast on Friday. Wanting to leave her with as many resources as possible, I don't owe anyone any money. I took her out on Tuesday night to her first driving experience around Karts at a race track. I did one on my own, she did a jr one on her own and then we did a double together in pouring rain. That somehow was the biggest heat and we won it. Turns out living like you're dying has it's plus sides. I've not become magically more affectionate or sweet but I feel all emotions with conviction and honesty, sometimes to my detriment, sometimes to my enjoyment, sometimes those same things to others. I apologize, as neccessary, accordingly.

Oddly enough, Kiana was asked to be part of a study about memory and she has her first MRI almost immediately after I do to see how memory develops at the University of Texas. I don't know if it's ironic or appropriate that she's part of a study that is about how the brain develops memory shortly after I am scanned to see if mine is being worn away.
I am not assuming anything will go completely right or wrong tomorrow. Theoretically I suppose it's already gone either way but I've played enough poker hands to know that you play the odds but those don't always pan out but they usually do. Statistically speaking, my odds of making 40 were low and yet I'm about two months from my 39th birthday. I've never fully decided whether I believe that means I've pushed my luck far enough or if luck has been on my side for too long. I know there are people who want to give credence to good vibes or deities about it all and I can respect that but I have zero doubts people better than me have fallen to this disease with less time so I don't have the confidence (arrogance?) to say that it's been a clean decision made in my favor.

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