The chemo, that is. Huzzah! I can’t imagine a worst time of my life actually. Who’d a thunk that something supposedly good for you would cause so much ickyness? I’m sure those before me have already discovered this:

icky (adj): 548. The smell of one’s body after chemo.

Ugh, I couldn’t scrub hard enough. And everything I eat left a paste on my teeth and tongue for a week afterwards, so I was forever doing what my dentists have wet dreamt about for years - brushing three times a day. And yet are my teeth whiter, fresher and Pearl Drops clean? (They still make the stuff?) Nooooo, they’re still yellow from the years of fluoride-ridden South Carolina water. Why do adults lie?

But it’s over, right? (Must remain positive and so fucking upbeat!)

Yes, I am rapturous that it is over. I’m just waiting for effects to go away so I can feel like the Howard I’ve come to know after 40 years. The one who isn’t constantly trying to maintain an upbeat attitude, but is happy naturally. Oh, where art thou? Oh, yes, lost with my hair; however, that will be coming back, too.

I’m already sensing that some creativity is coming back and tried out a butt-crack hair loss draft on Hot Doctor Wife who laughed appropriately, so that will be cropping up here soon. Hopefully, other funny stuff will soon be flowing through the tide pools of my brain.

And the Summer of ‘08 comes to a close as does the ickyness within. Now I’m must down more liquids to flush all this toxic crap out.

Listening to: “Land Of A Thousand Words” - Scissor Sisters

And I’m going to celebrate by lying out in the sun, smoking cigarettes and talking on my cell phone. Ironically, I got the great news as I was pulling into the parking lot of the emergency room yesterday afternoon. Since Sunday, I can barely breathe… no, not like Duncan Sheik. After ruling out pneumonia and a blood clot in my lungs, my diagnosis was bronchitis. So I’m on antibiotics and doin’ the ‘tusin.

In other words, no party yet for the no-more-cancer news.

I still have two more chemo treatments to receive as a preventative measure which I wish I could get my mom to write me an excuse to give to the doctor, but I guess it’s all for my own good and junk. Anyway, I’m very relieved and very happy — when I’m not coughing like an old man with a three-pack-a-day habit. Thank you again to everyone for all your great support and jokes during this.

Listening to: “6′1″” - Liz Phair

Last week, the iPod in my car randomly played a song and I decided it was time to broadcast my love. I rolled down the windows driving down one of the busiest streets in Denver and sang at the top of my lungs: Captain & Tennille’s “Muskrat Love”.

Listening to: “Welcome To The Pleasuredome” - Frankie Goes To Hollywood

It’s Saturday morning at 8:15 as I’m typing this. Perry Ferrell is screaming about how big the ocean is and I’ve been wide awake since 4:00 this morning thanks to Prednisone. My brain is running like a trick who just sobered up and guess what, I’ve nothing to really say. I just felt the need to write which is never good when you have the focus of a three-year-old writing a screenplay.

Things on my mind:

• My oncologist ordered a PET/CT scan much earlier than I expected. He seemed quite impressed that I was trying to maintain my two jobs and the improv troupe while going through chemo. I got the impression that my body might actually be healing up quite well. ::crossing fingers:: The scan is on the 23rd and I’m hoping when the tech lets me see the image that big blob of orange around my former appendix will be gone.
• Cameron and I are making the big plunge. We are currently planning on moving in together August 1 and have starting to look around for two-bedroom places. Yes, two bedrooms. We both will be needing our space on occasion. Honestly? I’m excited. This will be my first time living with someone I all loves and junk. We waited two years, so it seems we’re both comfortable with the idea.
• I just hocked up something out my lung. That was gross. (This had nothing to do with the last thought, Cameron.)
• Show of hands: who loves them some Little Debbie Swiss Rolls?
• Except that Little Debbie Swiss Rolls four days after chemo taste like cardboard.
• I know where this list came from. It’s all Avitable’s fault! His last two posts were lists. Damn you!
• Ooo! I did something really adult last week! I refinanced my car to get a lower interest rate and payment. The cleaning up of the credit record is working. Soon I can go into the type of debt that McCain is reporting. Oh, I went there.

Listening to: “Rush Hour” - Jane Wiedlin