Dropping In

Walt has a serious meta streak - taking a photo of a photo - scouting the right run of Lava Falls at 30,000 CFS - the cheese grater is barely visible on the right - with Wolfe and Timmons (I'm in the comfortable catcher's crouch third from the left) circa 1996.  Had a great run (thanks Mike) and a good time was had by all.  Another boat on the far left is being smart and running left.  Where is the fun in that?  In case this one slipped by you, just click on the image to make it much more visible.

I'm feeling a bit antsy and over adrenalized these past few days.  My emotions are running all over the map.  I apologize for the spotty responses that I have sent out to all of the well wishes and kind messages I've received.  Focus remains at a premium and when I've felt it, I've tried to spend it on Walt and Steph and calming my own unsettled mind.

We both have a tremendous sense of entering a new and unknown phase of my treatment.  We are hopeful that the my body and spirit will weather the combination of chemotherapy and radiation well in the coming weeks but we really have no idea.
We met with my radiation oncologist on Monday and after bringing her treatment plan before the tumor board, she made some adjustments.  A larger area with be radiated than we originally discussed.  I understand the reasons and I agree with the decision but I would be lying if I said I wasn't bummed.  I'm still well short of the whole brain radiation that seemed inevitable all along so I can still be pleased about that.
Being fitted for the mask lived up to expectations in that it was both freaky and tremendously uncomfortable.  I'm afraid my hockey mask analogy was a bit too optimistic - the reality is a bit more like being sealed into an iron maiden from the shoulders up.  I am truly thankful for my gifted accupuncurist who has been a wealth of information, inspiration, and sound treatment, for warning me about getting my neck placed in an awkward and uncomfortable position during the fitting.  I had to fight for it but the mask ended up in a fairly comfortable position.  Up to an hour a day for six-weeks, you had better feel as comfortable as you can manage.
I still find myself thinking often of the river.  In this case, it is the combination of nerves, butterflies, and focus as you ease the boat into a the deceptively smooth tongue of a big drop.  Skill, nerve, and luck are all involved.  Whatever happens, you know you are in for a humbling experience placing yourself at the mercy of forces greater than yourself.  Here's hoping for a good run and smooth water down below.