Exactly one year ago, I was told that I had Stage 4 Hodgkins disease, a cancer from which I might not recover. I couldn't walk and had to have two major surgeries in two days.

Today, I went out to breakfast, ran errands, worked on my computer, and played with my cats. In other words, I lived. And I did it cancer-free.

What a year it's been! But I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm healthy.

A lot has happened since we last spoke. Let's catch up, shall we?!

June/July:
I spent most of June and July working and trying to decide whether I would keep or sell my house (I kept it). And I bandied about a lot with my friends Pete and Kelly. Of course, I also played with Zoe (shown here in her Halloween costume).

August:
In August, I traveled around the country and saw all of my family members. You can see the images from my trip here.

At the end of August, Brad and I attended our first Burning Man festival -- a huge, creative party in the desert. Wild, baby!

September:
In September, I stayed with my brother Stu and his wife Lexie in Colorado Springs. I had a super fun time and met a lot of great people.

October:
Once I got back from Colorado, I had a Sushi/Art party. You can see the invitation here. We all made sushi, showed off our artwork, and watched a few homemade videos. Feel free to watch my latest animation, called pOOL gIRL (I've already decided to make a few changes).

By this time, I had decided to move out of my house and try out Colorado for a while. So I cleared out my house and found some nice renters. The cats and I are now crashing at Pete and Kelly's while they're working down in LA.

November:
This last week I had one of my quarterly CT scans. I had to drink some "contrast" in order for the scan to work properly.

The scan went extremely well. My oncologist, Dr. Woliver, told me it was even better than the last one! All of my scar tissue is continuing to shrink, meaning that it's less and less likely that the cancer is ever coming back. We killed it. And I'm going to make sure it stays away.

So here I am, a year healthier, a year stronger, and a year happier. Although I do have a cold.

It's wild for me to think that a year ago I couldn't walk, I was thin as a stick, and pale a pale gourd. Now I'm running again, I've surfed, I've hiked, and I've kayaked. I feel great.

Today, I visited several friends who helped me through this most difficult time, giving them roses and telling them how much I appreciate their love. I wish I could give each of you a flower and tell you how important you are to me. I know that I wouldn't be here without all of your prayers and good wishes. So, from the bottom and top and left side and right side and middle and just above the middle but a little to the left of my heart,

THANK YOU!

I'm glad to be here.

I also visited the Cancer Center and the hospital where all of this went down a year ago. I visited the 6th floor of Cottage Hospital and said hi to some familiar faces, nurses who brought life to my weak body. I then went to see my favorite chemo nurses in the Cancer Center, nurses who had injected cancer-killing poison into me every week. They're such great people. "An injection with a smile" should be their slogan.

I'm ready for the next part of my life, whatever it may be. I've told a lot of people that I feel like I'm on "bonus time." That's what it feels like. The world has become my playground, and I'm ready to play.

I thought that today was really going to be an emotional day, full of introspection and sadness. But it wasn't. I found that it's hard to be sad when you're so happy. And I'm so happy about my life, my choices, my victories. I grew up this year. I finally feel like an adult, and I have to tell you -- being an adult sucks, man! Bills, responsibilities, house payments, car payments, changing the cat litter, work, work, work -- but I digress. I now see the world in such a different way, and it's so great. More real, more difficult in some ways, but definitely better. My senses have been heightened. My emotions have been opened up to a new level. Everything is so exciting.

The one part of today's trips that brought tears was visiting the 6th floor of the hospital, where I stayed when I was first diagnosed. A swelling of sadness filled my heart, because I knew that this was where those who needed special treatment and care were resting. They couldn't go to the Cancer Center yet. They couldn't go home. Everything is scary, everything is unreal. Being in those hallways made me remember my first few hours in the hospital. I had CANCER! Was I going to die? What do we do to fight cancer? What does cancer even mean!? What is it made of? What is it doing to my body? Why didn't I pay more attention in biology class? Who was this Hodgkins fellow and what sort of movies did he like? Lots of questions, lots of unknowns. But I also had two words in my head, two words that wouldn't go away: CANCER SURVIVOR. They appeared in my head and in my heart the minute I arrived and haven't left. I was going to be a cancer survivor. That's so wild! And now I am a cancer survivor. That's so amazingly wild!

I'm now going to reread this Heroes web site from the beginning. I can't even remember what I wrote. Feel free to read it again. It's like all of the best stories ever told -- it has a happy ending.

I thought all day about what I wanted to say to you. What sort of impression did I want to leave with you as I begin my next journey? What sort of emotions did I want to bring out before I bid you adieu? How could I possibly say everything I want to say in such a short span of time and space? So what I came up with was the most sincere, most mature, most heavily thoughtful way of expressing my emotions at this time.


I wrote a haiku.

Today I can fly.
Love and passion are my wings.
I'm a survivor.



Did you count the 5-7-5 syllables? I bet you did.

Ok, so I wrote a few haikus about haikus.

If you aren't careful.
You might be very surprised.
This is a haiku.

First you count to five.
Then do seven syllables.
And finish with five.

Haikus are so cool
Because they're short and easy.
You don't have to rhyme.

Once you start writing,
You just can't stop those haikus.
I need therapy.

Have an amazing today and an even better tomorrow.

m