Dear friends, relatives, loved ones, and all those I don't know who still bother to read this

I'm addressing this to everyone. I'm not sure why some of you read it, especially those in the last catagory (of those I don't know). It's 11:30p. Why am I writing? Giddiness perhaps. I've been overly socially stimulated today, and I just don't feel like going to bed. I've decided, like Wooster, to by a Banjolele. Anyone know where to buy one or how to play one? Any insights are appreciated.

I suppose what I really need to say is, I feel great, just a week and a few days after surgery. Thanks for all those who dropped in, thought of me, or prayed for me. The opperation went well. The doctor was pleased. And the nurses loved me (I guess I'm an easy patient to take care of. They even wrote me a nice note when I got home. I wish I could follow up with some of them. They are lovely folks and many of them in quite the right profession). Right, so I feel great. In fact, I forgot I was post-op and started doing some heavy lifting only to be reminded by a big of a pain sensation that I have stitches running up and down my belly -- 3 layers of stitches and "steri-tape" on the outer dermal layer to keep the skin together without stiches. This is all very intreguing to me. I believe the higher incisions bleed a little more than the lower incisions. My last post went into that incision thing in a bit more details, but I believe that some locations are more prone to bleeding than others. Sorry to all those who find this boring.

It is official. Next week I'm going to Chicago to finish things up. Anyone there who wants to see me should be sure to contact me as I'm sure I'll be in great demand :-) Who knows when I might be back there again.

I had better stop writing now, as I think I'm making little-to-no sense as it is so late. Thanks to all my faithful readers. Good night!!

He must increase, and I must decrease

I have been learning a lot through this long illness. In discussing with my mother this afternoon, I have realized that rather than being the most miserable days of my life, these have been some of the Best days of my life -- Days that I wouldn't trade for anything.

Yes, I have incision scars up and down my entire front side, and other places that will go unnamed. Yes, I have an odd appearance such that I will never take feel terribly comfortable in the pool again (I can still dig sand holes and build sand palaces). But these are beside the point.

I have never known friendship the way that I know it now. In the past, my life has been distracted by school, then grad school, then work, then financial worries, and all the cares of this life. I tried to put together a social life in Northern Illinois, but I don't count myself as successful. Everyone was too busy, too far apart, and I'm just not an organizer. Now that I'm in Grand Rapids, I really feel like I have an understanding and an excitement for life. I'm bound and determined to get through this, and rather than sit around, I have more things to do in a day than I could ever imagine. More people to see, more people to write to, more things to think about. I can't even imagine how I get it all done.

I am so thankful for the friends that I always knew that I had, but have come out of the woodwork now that I've made myself more accessable (read: being a local again), who have shown me love and care, who have gone out of their way to do things for me, or just to talk about whatever happens to be on the mind. I feel a true freedom to have real friends and be a real friend. I'm learning what it means to be a friend as I think about what I would like to have in a friend. This has been amazing for me.

Don't think that the only think I'm thinking about is people though. This is like one of those revelations that I had when I finally finished school -- I have Free-time. No one is demanding anything of me. I can learn to write, I can journal, I can find new things to do like drawing, and planting, I can take university classes, and . . . who knows what I'll do. I'm even thinking of starting some sort of money making venture, or volunteer projects for the mean time, for the duration of my sickness.

I am so ready to get better. It may take a while, but I have plans, and I have time to make use of those plans. This is a feeling I've Never had before. Again I say, this is absolutely amazing. I should like to thank each of you individually who have made me think such grand thoughts by being a friend to me, and maybe I will. I hope that I can recipricate.

I truly believe this is God's doing, so that he can prioritize my life in the way that it should be, and not just in the way that I want it to be. I obviously was never able to figure that part out for myself. I am much happier now than I have been my whole life. Praise God with me!

Most recent stay

This most recent hospitalization was not so fun. Mayo has a lot of cool nurses, but I can't say that I really got attached to any of the Spectrum Butterworth nurses, except for the last night and morning I had some cool ones who just hung out and talked for a while. Those are the best -- the ones who make time to interact and tell stories and whatnot and care about who their patients are. Yes, they are all competent nurses, but some of them are only concerned about my immediate needs and don't really care about me as a person. There's a big difference and it shows. Perhaps my attitude toward them makes a difference too. Anyway, there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the stay in general. No cranky nurses or doctors, no getting me up at 3am to stand up and take a walk. The only odd thing was that a Doc came in at 3 am and appologized for not coming in the night before. So instead he woke me at 3 am to find out how I was doing. I told him I was tired and needed some sleep and could talk to him coherently in the morning. He kind of understood. I don't know why docs make their rounds at 3am.

I did have some wonderful visitors. Thanks to everyone who stopped by. I understand that midweek is not necessarily a good time for anyone, so no hard feeling toward any of you who would have liked to stop by but just couldn't. I was only in from Tuesday through Friday, so it was a short stay. Anyway, I really appreciated the visits and good times I had with some of you. Thanks so much!!

I'm happy that I had all this done at Butterworth. My doctor was competent and did a great job. No sense in going all the way out to MN to have a simple surgery done. I feel pretty good already. I was up and walking 2 hours after surgery and felt alright. I think I'll feel fine within the week and get back to normal activities. I've already told most of you that I'm reading a pretty cool book called Brothers and Keepers by John Edgar Wideman. I spend a couple of hours at Schulers trying to find a good new book to read. I haven't finished it as anticipated. It's about two black brothers -- one becomes an author and scholar, and the other becomes a murderer. Quite a story!

Well, that's enough for now. If anyone has a good book suggestion, I'll take it. But I won't finish this book for another month at best, so I may have quite the queue lined up by the time I'm done with this one.

Good night all!

more doctors

I've been introduced to at least 2 more doctors since the last update. These two doctors, surgeons, scare me. Neither one of them are terribly gleeful, except for the twinkle in their eye's when they eye knifes and scaples. I'm not sure if it's delight or just reflection of the room light off the shiney metal. Physical principles make it difficult to figure out just what's going on. Both surgeons think that cutting in to me is the best way to go, so I will grudgingly concur, because that's the only real choice I have. What's another scar in the crowd? I've been investigating surgical cuts, and it seems that there are a great variety to choose from based on the surgeons chosen target. Most of them are vertical (standing up; they are all horizontal when lying down), but some are horizontal. Most physicians seem to stay away from diagnals and arcs, although sometimes they are handy too. My doc want to go laproscopic -- 3 rather small incisions that will let me go home and get back to regular activities in days, not weeks. That would be best for me, given that I probably have many surgeries that lie ahead. As I read it, every incision adds to the myriads of scar tissue already in my lower abdomin. And that makes subsequent surgeries more difficult, as the doc will have to traverse all the tissues to get where he wants to be. It all sounds very unpleasant to me.

In the world of "regular life", I was weeding and reading today. I started a new book, The Last Days of Pompeii. I think I started the first chapter before but was not intreagued. Now I am. It looks like a good book. I finally finished my last book, The Promise of Paradox, given to me by a thoughtful uncle.

So a few days have gone by

It may seem to you like months have gone by since I've written anything. To me it seems like just a few days. For those of you who don't know, I've grown a beard, trimmed it, let it go long, and now am thinking about getting rid of it until No-Shave-November comes around again. But, as with everything else in my life at the moment, is no certainty. One thing that is certain is that I have to make it through today, and I may make it through tomorrow. Even though today I feel that I could make it to 90, my oncological surgen says "not so". I live to prove him wrong. In fact I scoff at him, and so does my disease, which at least is schrinking. Although I make no claims that it is gone, even now. We gotta wait and see what test the doctor will order next to give some better resolution to the matter.

It's strange to me that the best method we have for seeing cancer traces is by looking for them. One would think there could be a blood test that shows the percent of cancer left, or the amount that has been erradicated (big word I use infrequently, sorry if I use it wrong). It seems so primative that it's just somebody's eye examining a high-tech photo. Yes, I understand these things. I'm an engineer. In engineering, we have better ways of testing for things. But alas it is not so.

You may want to know what's on my to-do list. I'm ready to share with willing readers. Today was a great week. I had cousin and aunt visiting. They left. We did fun things, like finishing "The World's Smallest 1000 Piece Puzzle". We went exploring Michigan (a favorite past-time of mine), buying art work (in the form of cards), going out to eat. I also get to spend a fair amount (20 hrs per week) working at a job that I find fun and interesting! I also have lots of energy for walking, and apparently can run to chase a dog who is crossing the street without permission. I didn't know I had that in me yet. So the energy is there when it needs to be. And naps? well, they are almost a thing of the past, except that I know they are still good for me.

And what's next for me? Well, some of you read on CaringBridge all about what's going on, some of you haven't been there yet. I may or may not have some of my liver removed. But the liver is an amazing organ -- vital. And it seems to be the only organ (besides skin) that can regenerate itself quite successfully. So my fear of having that done has subsided quite substantially. And it's possible I won't have to have it done at all after all. What I do fear is the potential of having lung surgery done. That is scary, and might leave me with a little less ability to do things when I'm done. I'm very hopeful that it will end up better than I'm expecting. So I'm hoping the lung thing will be a non-issue.

It feels like an awkward place to leave a post, but it's late, and I have to go to bed, just like any good little boy.

Motivation

Blogging has not been a regular routine for me since having had surgery. It's not the first thing I think of. What is the first thing I think of? It's getting through the day. Each day is difficult, having to deal with adjustments to life after chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, and now another bout of chemotherapy. What's different? I'll spare you the details, but basically it amounts to everything. Even breakfast is different. Oatmeal doesn't taste so good because it requires rigerous chewing to make sure everything goes down okay. It's no fun. So I've adjusted to eating eggs (which are great), toast, and other easy to chew things. My lunch routine: used to be ham and cheese sandwhiches and raw produce. Well, raw produce doesn't agree with me for now, and ham is bad, bad, bad (in my current opinion). (Today I had a delightful strawberry shortcake. . . life's not all that bad).

What else has changed? Coughing, laughing, sneezing -- they all hurt.

Driving is weird, but getting better. Sitting is weird, but getting better. Wearing anything but sweats is weird, but getting better. Some of these things will always be weird, but hopefully get to be less annoying as time goes by. Lots has changed and will stay changed. But again, I will spare the goary details.

So now what's up? Well, I'm looking forward to getting back to a semblence of life as usual. Next week I will go back to work part time. I'm quite excited. For the occasion, I'm sporting a new beard, new glasses, and some new cloths. I may even swing for some new textbooks so that I can be extra smart when I get back to work.

Well, again, it's not all bad. I get to get back to life as usual. I'm not bed-ridden, chair-ridden, ridden with chronic pain, or anything totally dehabilitationg -- just minor and major inconveniences, some of which I may be able to fix later on. I'm glad to be able to get on with life. I'm glad I have another chance. I hope to do as well or better. My life is a gift from God. I intend to live long and full and fulfil many more chapters of life before I'm finished.

There has arisen more complications with my condition. I'm happy to share it privately, but for those who want the full scoop and don't want to wait, check out Mom's writing on www.caringbridge.org/visit/adambonner

My computer forget

It's been such a long time since I've posted to this site that my computer forgot the address. I start typing:


"itsno". . . .


And naturally, I expect my intelligent IE 8 browser to fill in the rest:


"oh, do you mean itsnotH1N1.blogspot.com?"


"yes, thank you. Please take me there"


"right away, sir"



But instead I get a blank stare.


"you want to go where?? Never heard of it. You're going to have to fill me in on the details"




I tried to inform the browser that that was my site, that I had been faithfully posting to it for several months, and a lapse of a few weeks shouldn't be cause for wiping it out of it's memory. But it was too late. It had already forgotten. Now for a long regimen of retraining. How often will I have to post to keep my browser from forgetting me?

I'm begining to think that if I have too many more such conversations with my internet browser, that may be my next occasion for filing a disability claim. . .