Arrival in London

I landed in London a few hours ago and my head is spinning. I did what I was told and slept as best I could for the last half of the flight. Even took some Tylenol PM to help. The flight was one of the more pleasant ones I have taken. Virgin Atlantic rocks. I’m without a hotel at the moment, but trying to get that fixed. Tomorrow I leave for Manchester to spend time with Gorillaz. More soon. My stomach is rumbling.

It’s Going To Get Harder

Currently playing: Starsailor “In The Crossfire” from their new album, On The Inside. I think it’s the first track. It’s on the latest mix. Their last album was shite, but this one is good.

Brother J IMed me this afternoon to let me know Dad had a tough night. Without sharing too many details, he had terrible stomach and bladder problems. Mom had to take him to the ER. Brother J met her there. I’m not sure what time it all went down, but dad sounded exhausted. I was IMing back and forth with Brother J until I couldn’t do it anymore. Not from work.

I just don’t understand why, if his cancer is inoperable, incurable and will never go into remission, he is putting himself through this. I mean, if he can live a shorter time relatively healthy, which he is now, then what’s the fucking point? I’d rather see him happy and able to do the things he loves for a shorter time than have him suffer through chemo. And there are no guarantees even with the chemo. The clinical trial he is a part of now is 12% effective (according to another doctor). This is a reasonable question!

I had a discussion about all of this with him tonight and he’s in agreement. It’s something that he needs to be thinking about. He knows it’s something he can talk to me about as well. The last time I was home a few weeks ago, we sat down and had a 2-hour conversation about death. It was difficult. We both cried, but ultimately it brought us closer. I’m here for him, Mom, Brother J, and Sister B.

He’s off the chemo for now. They have to adjust the dosage. But he has to realize going through chemo is going to be difficult, and not just for him. He doesn’t want to put himself through this, to say nothing of family and friends. I have questions as to whether he will go through it. I don’t blame him and I wouldn’t be angry if he decided to not go through chemo.

Don’t Call It A Comeback

Don’t Call It A Comeback

Currently playing: Silversun Pickups "Kissing Families" – It’s the 15th song on my Rocktober 2005 mix and it’s fucking incredible. I can’t get enough of this song (or the album). Two minutes and fifty seconds into the song is my favorite part.

Current location: It’s hard to say. I’m on my way home, on an airplane.

The truth is, I’ve been missing the writing. I’ve had plenty to say. As Audrey would say, "I’ve been having all these conversations in my head." So much has been going on and I never know where to begin again. I guess the present is as good as any. I have this tendency to want to catch everyone up on everything, and really, who fucking cares. I’m kidding myself when I think about people reading this stuff. And this isn’t some self-depreciating bullshit rant. I just don’t care who reads this anymore. I write it for me. It’s easier to type on my PowerBook than it is to sit down with one of those big hard-bound notebooks from Borders. Who needs em? I go through spurts. I think I can write every day, but I don’t. Invariably, I throw my hands up in the air and wonder why I even have a web site. I used to have the time, and I just don’t. Or rather, I don’t make time. Between work, being a home owner, trying to get out more and spend as much time as I can with Audrey. A lot of times, that means including her in work-related stuff, like shows. I’m not complaining. It has been one of the most incredible years of my life. My job is a dream from which I hope I never wake. I’m in love and have the most amazing relationship with Audrey. I’m living virtually free of the fears that haunted me less than a year ago.

Sometimes letting go is easier / Dead friends can’t come back / They’re gone and life goes on / If you try, you’ll be alright / If you try, you’ll be alright.
(From Turin Brakes "Red Moon")

Death has been on my mind a lot lately. On Tuesday, September 20, I found out my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Actually, he wasn’t officially diagnosed until some days later. He was having some severe pain from a kidney stone. When he went to the doctor, they took some scans and found a sizable tumor on his pancreas. Two weeks prior, I was home celebrating his 60th birthday. Pancreatic cancer generally has a very high mortality rate (90-95%) because by the time most people start to show symptoms, it’s too late. Before I knew as much as I know now, I thought that perhaps the kidney stone saved his life.At this point, it may have helped prolong it, but only time will tell.

He had his first chemo session this afternoon and now we just wait. Wait to see if he reacts negatively to the treatment. Wait to see if he gets weak from the chemo. Wait to see him fight. He’s fighting. Fighting for his life. And I am fighting right next to him, even from Venice, California.

My friends have been my saving grace. They are all so supportive in their own ways. It’s amazing, and I am so grateful. My Buddhist friends have gathered at my house (and elsewhere) to chant for my father’s health and my family’s strength and protection. Initially, I went through an intense several days of utter sadness. The saddest sadness I have ever felt. Lately, I have been doing alright. I have moments, most of which are alone, in the car or while I am chanting in the morning. All I want to do it be there for my family. Come home as often as I can (while trying to maintain a balance), lift my family’s spirits, go back to my home to recharge and do it again.

It’s extremely difficult to be so far away from everything. I feel left out and sometimes I even feel guilty. I try to think about what my dad would want. Even before he got cancer, I would often think about what advice he would give me in a situation, what he might think of my approach, etc. We are very close and I have a special connection with him. I’m so afraid of losing him. Fuck. So afraid.