Sorry I've been absent

I've been extremely busy. I've started a computer class at RIT on Mondays and Wednesdays from 4-6. It's an advanced web database programming class, and it's hard and I'm mostly lost but still hanging on by my fingertips. Actually, the "hard" stuff isn't what's hard for me -- it's the not-knowing-how-to-log-into-the-RIT-system and do the common things that students have been doing for years by this time, like creating directories and using their special text editors and stuff like that. So it leaves me trying not to whisper to the 20-year-old next to me to say, "OK, how do you log on to this thing?" and trying to figure out whether the "create folder" is the old DOS command "md" (for "make directory"...it's not, turns out it's mkdir...these are the things that are stymieing me).

But other than the RIT system fussing, it's going relatively smoothly, even with juggling the girls' schedule.

And up until late last week, so was the rest of life.

"You know, we're really settling in here," said David on Friday morning. "Life is finally calm, and good. We're happy."

The words were still hanging in the air. like in a balloon attached to his mouth, like in a cartoon.

And then at 10:30 I got a call from my dear friend Patrick, whom I dated in college and with whom I'm still very close. He's a reporter at the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I see him every few years when I have a reason to be in Cleveland. A bit over 5 years ago, he was in a horrible accident and in a coma for many days. He still has lingering physical problems from that. The call from his girlfriend in October 2001, when no one knew if he'd live or die, really sucked.

This time, the call was from Patrick, and it really sucked, too.

"I've got colon cancer," he said.

He's 37, damn it.

He sent me an email with a jpg of his colon. Amazing what the technology can do these days. I like this kind of stuff, so does he. It would be absolutely fascinating if only that thing blocking about 1/3 of his colon weren't freaking inside him.

He meets with the oncologist tomorrow, Monday. They're going to resection (i.e., take out) a big chunk of his colon very soon, then they'll know whether it's spread, what stage it's at, etc. And what are his chances.

My MD friend William sent me some statistics. If it's only Stage 2 cancer then he has a 2/3 shot at living more than 5 years. Apparently, that's really good statistics for cancer in general. On the other hand, if you're interested in, say, living more than 5 years, then it pretty much sucks. A 33% chance of NOT being alive in 5 years. Fuck.

It's a damned good thing there is no Master Puppeteer or I'd be one angry, angry person right now.