CAVEAT DVMPTRVCK

if i were to write a book about my cancer experience right now, i might as well subtitle it "the sputum chronicles." i realize its gross, but if you look through for a unifying leitmotif, that is what is there.

my congestion has been worsening, my phlegm and sinus drip is annoying as usual but exacerbated by my difficulty swallowing, etc. my dry mouth phenomenon is entirely perceptual and mostly has been from the start, as ive observed before. the fact is my mouth is full of yuck.

one of the most disgusting habits i have never gotten around to forgiving in my fellow humans is the habit of spitting on the ground in public. it is prevalent to the point of universality in korea, and is one of those small "things i hate" here. but now. . . im the one doing it, four or five times on my 20 minute walk. gwack.

the doctor said its "thick saliva" rather than sputum, to be precise. whatever. its just unpleasant.

i am aware of the negative turn my recent blogthought has taken. to be clear, i retain my core optimism about surviving this process. ultimately, it may be the long, drawn-out nature of radiation that is most difficult for me. the constant waiting for it to finish, for new predicted symptoms to appear, for existing symptoms to worsen.

my personality type is better adapted to quickly-finished challenges like catastrophic surgeries, that i can push through and beyond with short bursts of energy.

and as weird as this might sound, i prefer terrible pain to chronic discomfort, if the pain has a sooner end than the discomfort. discomfort with a long-term benefit at the end is equally meaningless to me. . . hence my fraught relationship with most forms of exercise, for example.

walking and hiking are the huge exceptions that i take as proof of that "rule of discomfort." i meditate while i walk, letting the rhythm of my footfalls structure my phrases and affirmations ("mantras"). ive so much come to rely on the calming effects of my solitary walking that my heart falls slightly when people offer to accompany me. i really do seem to have a solitary soul.

having said all that, my heart fell, too, when i was compelled to take a taxi to session this morning due to running late, which is a result of my seeming slow-motion approach to breakfast these days.

here i go. . . radiation therapy session number 16 of 30.

may all metastases be nonmalignant.

the air is cool and fresh, a hint of autumn. perhaps one of the things i miss most about minnesota is the variety, changeabilty and unpredictability of the weather. korean weather is much less boring than in california, but its much more predictable than the midwest (by which i mean you could make weather forecasts using nothing but a gaze at the sky and the calendar). korea will never have an august day requiring a jacket, nor a september snowfall, nor shorts weather in january (all of which ive seen in minnesota).

that said, even if entirely foreseeable, the shift to cooler nights is welcome.

radiationwise, today is halfway: 15 out of 30.

last night, i felt morbid. yesterday, i was joking about the radiation with andrew: that we had gone to hongnong, hiked the mountain, taken a wrong trail and ended up along the high security fence in the shadow of the nuclear plants reactor dome. "i like the radiation so much i wanted to get a do-it-yourself bonus dose," i said. we laughed, while keeping eye out for mutant butterflies.

but in fact, im suffering deepy from the impinging awareness of the faustian nature of this undertakimg. ive lost all taste in my mouth – ALL. i had thought, before, that it was worse after the surgery, but at least i had some. this morning i had plain yogurt, some peach and some coffee, and they all tasted identical: taste of nothing. only the smells give them away.

the burning pain is always present, now. no breaks. my mouth is full of a vaguely bitter sputum that i constantly have the urge to spit, yet feels dry as a mouthful of dust, or like i have consumed dry, rusted marbles.

my mouth feels as if i have lain in a grave for a year. its long too dried out to be of any interest to worms or larvae. its a taste like death.

yes, i said the forbidden word: "death." i have known from the start. . . "side effects may include. . . death." it said it right in the form i signed. but last night i really FELT the truth of this for the first time. the visceral truth that this is a game against poison. this is not just medicine – it can kill me.

i got here at my regular time, but the techs were ahead of schedule so as soon as i checked in at the automated computer station they called me back to the zap-o-room. i was still in a sweat from walking here and with the elevated pulse of the exertion. the session had a different quality to it – i felt more aware of the minor variations of the bed-tables orientation and position, its tiny stepwise movements through the fixed plane of the photon beam. the servo-motors of the raygun, ensconced behind its plastic torus, sounded like a mad scientists toy train, clackety clack always counterclockwise around my head. i wanted to cough, but i resisted. i visualized an old-timey steam train orbiting me and puffing out xray clouds, instead.

after the session, the kind and personable tech whose name i havent learned and whose english is execrable, said cheerily, "see you monday have a good thisweek." "thisweek" means "weekend" – i make the same kind of semantic-field mistakes in korean.

lucky 13.

heavy rain. badly upset stomach (maybe due to bibimguksu yesterday rather than radiation per se). took taxi – thought that would never happen? taxis are hard to get in the rain in ilsan. . . but here on time.

good morning, anyway.

After my radiation treatment, Andrew, Hollye and I walked over the Jeongbal Hill to the subway entrance. I bid them farewell – they have decided to embark on a 2 or 3 day excursion to the northeast corner of South Korea, where they hope to go hiking in Seoraksan National Park. This is their thing – they are not city people, and for Andrew, especially, I often get the impression that his visiting me here in the suburbs of the world’s fourth-largest metropolitan area is something of a psychological hardship for him. So I hope they have a good time.

I’m a bit jealous, because all I get to do is attend radiation treatments each morning and correct essays all afternoon. I’ve never visited the northeast – not Seoraksan, not Sokcho. I want to.

Walking over the hill, I stopped and photographed some flowers at this one clearing area that I like. Just because.

There’s this weird bench thing made of rough-hewn fallen wood. There was a flower under it.

After dropping them at the subway station and telling them “safe travels,” I walked the rest of the way home. But I stopped at the Ediya Coffee location near my building (Ediya is one of Korea’s many Starbucks knockoff chains), because lately I have become rather addicted to a grapefruit-flavored blended-ice thing that they make, which they call in brilliant pseudo-starbuckian konglishy marketingese a 자몽플랫치노 [jamong “flatccino”]. It’s not likely that healthy, but possibly healthier than ice cream, which is another post-radiation treat I’ve been getting myself on occasion.

i slept a lot more than usual the past 24 hrs. a 2 hr nap yesterday at midday, plus more than 8 hrs over night. im supposing this is the alleged fatigue setting in. i felt some definite fatigue at work yesterday too, along with the really burning mouth, so i left early. 

but in the present moment i feel rested and energetic and in good, positive spirits. ive always liked that word in that usage: spirits. "spirit" just means breath, etymologically. so: "good, positive breathing." 

nevertheless, i dont really like other, related usages. "spirituality" is overused and has become a vague catch-all. i actually prefer the term "religiosity," even as applied to my own buddhist atheism.

off to number 11. zzzap.