Hey guys,

First, let me say that it makes me very uncomfortable to post this. Wait, scratch that. FIRST, let me say that the outpouring of support from you guys has been overwhelming. In a good- nay, great- way. Opening my inbox every morning to a slew of emails and posts and comments warms my heart like you couldn't believe. Sounds corny, but it's this continual flow of positive messages that's going to get me through this. I truly believe that. So thanks.

Ok, second: In a lot of those emails, people asked if they could have an address to send us cards, donations, etc. At first, it made me a little uncomfortable. But people insisted, and you know what? Turns out people are awesome. Every day (literally), Christie and I look at each other after opening a card or an email and say, "How nice are people?" Exceedingly nice, it turns out. Like, restore-your-faith-in-humanity nice. And someday, when the situation is reversed, WE will be among the "nice people." Leading the charge.

So, here is a link to my Brain Tumor Fund (via PayPal). If I screwed that up, our email address on PayPal is aninconvenienttumor@gmail.com. And if you'd like to mail us anything, here is our brand-new P.O. Box:

P.O. Box 352351
Los Angeles, CA 90035

Thanks you guys. For everything. 

Today marks the beginning of week #6 of treatment. That's 6 out of 6.
In sports terms, it's the home stretch. The fourth quarter.

 Back when I coached high school football, I used to tell the players
"I need a fourth-quarter effort out of you now!" The idea being that
whatever you still had saved up, now was the time to use it. It's
weird to see your own coaching cliches come back to inspire you later
in life, but that's kind of going on here. I'm devoting all my energy
and positive thinking into this last week. Psychologically, it's
strange to not feel any "control" over the proceedings -- I can't take
my chemo "better" or work "harder" at radiation -- but I trust in my
doctors and my treatment. Besides, I learned long ago to let go during
this whole process (missing diamond, anyone?). One of the best lessons
I've learned (and re-learned) during all this is that sometimes in
life, you're just a passenger. Forget about who's driving or even
where you're going. Because all you can control is yourself, and your
reaction to the ride.

 Ok, recap: Last week of radiation and chemo starts today. Symptoms:
crappy, but they tell me it's normal for this part of treatment.
Should be feeling better by the wedding, which is less than three
weeks away. On the agenda: pack two suitcases; one for Napa, one for
Maui. Maybe I'll wait til next week to start.

 And finally, thank you guys for all the cards and emails. I read every
one, and they really do fill me with strength an brighten my days.
"Dude, are you gay?"

 As Isaac would say, "Ehhhh... sometimes."

Today marked the end of Week #3 of radiation treatment. Week #3 out of
6. That's halftime, peeps. Halfway home. God, it feels good.

 I'll be honest with you: the radiation takes its toll. Physically and
mentally. Fatigue is the #1 symptom on my list. By far. And some of my
original symptoms sometimes feel like they're getting worse, not
better. But the doctors tell me that's perfectly normal. Because,
let's be honest, if YOU were a tumor getting blasted by radiation
every morning at 11am, you'd be thrashing about, too. Trying to make
things worse before you died off.

 Some good news on the symptom front: Last night I tilted my head back
on the couch and felt... nothing. No dizziness, no room spinning. A
couple of weeks ago, the same head-tilt would have sent the room
spinning out of control for a good 10 seconds. But last night, I was
able to lean my head back and shake it from side to side NORMALLY. Ah,
normalcy. Just thinking about it makes me smile. The dizziness may
come back, and it may get worse, but it's nice to feel some PROGRESS.
As in, "Yes, we're getting somewhere with this."

 Oh, and one more thing: Your emails. And comments to our blogs. I wake
up every morning to an inbox teeming with well-wishes and positive
encouragement. I read (and love) every single one. You guys have no
idea how empowering it is to start the day off by reading your
messages of hope. I love the ones that simply say things like "You can
do it", "You were made for this", etc. What a way to start the day!
Thank you guys.

 I get Monday off from radiation (Memorial Day), so halftime is a
little longer than just a weekend. I'm actually looking forward to the
second half. And the post-game celebration. Bachelor party, wedding,
honeymoon. Symptoms be damned.

We get cards. it seems like a new one shows up every day. I can't
possibly express how much they all mean to me. Each and every one. The
outpouring of support... well-wishes... kind thoughts... POSITIVE,
encouraging thoughts... it's humbling. Inspiring.

 Thank you.

Listen to last night's podcast with Adam Carolla, Teresa Strasser and
me. It will catch you up on everything that's going on.

 

http://twitter.com/BaldBryan

I promise to post compelling insights and updates. 

 
Tweet.

Bryan@HiBryan.com