Oh... I guess this is where I came in-

Duck and cover, kids... I mean, there's no smoking gun. It's from, all over. Everywhere. I'm not kidding. It's now a matter of luck, and the odds are (probably better than) 50/50, if it comes down to you and the next person it's nearly more likely to be you. This is the now into which we were born. I recoil in denial that such things are even possible, let alone becoming the norm. Leave the comfortable delusion and examine history again, it can't be denied, our species has been working towards shock and awe ultimate desolation for many centuries. Our ancestors would visualize the destruction of their opponents as ordered by God, a complete and thorough erasure of a people and all they surveyed. I have heard there are still ancient cities, as listed in biblical accounts were cursed by God, and are proven to have existed but have not yet ever been uncovered. Did I say that correctly? I'll look it up later...
It's happened before, more than likely, although if proof had been found it would not be revealed for fear of a "cultural upheaval," which we know cannot be allowed. Hanging on to their slim chance of maintaining control until the bitter end.
So... here I am at 5 years out. Five years ago I started this rambling observation of living after cancer diagnosis and the rigors of treatment. I'm sorry, really, that I wasn't up to keeping a day-to-day log, it would have been interesting. Perhaps. But most days I didn't know what day it was and my primary concern was survival. Getting the basics down to a routine  (as much as possible) helped me skip over having to remember if I took my pills that morning because, I always knew it was part of the routine even if I didn't remember that particular thing.
I know there are many more survivors out there, but we don't always hear about the ones who didn't survive beyond the cessation of treatment there was no point in continuing. Surviving the treatment is part of the battle since it can be (is) brutal even when being administered with the utmost kindness and attention (not always the case). Mine was no local skirmish settled with a surgical procedure  (although the throat biopsy did save my life in a sense), this was my all pervasive shock and awe chemical weapons attack against my own body which had run amok in its own processes due to a misguided genetic message. If I managed to withstand the on the ground onslaught on my own blood and marrow, I might live. Since it was already a defcon 4 full scale invasion of my sovereign infrastructure, I was not told how long they thought I might have without treatment, or whether I would even complete it, let alone how long after. Oh they warned me of the known possible dangers of my quest, but of the other challenging encounters I might engage in the long dark woods they were ill equipped to inform me. More over they tracked my progress to learn what they could from my voyage of discovery. It's my mission to Mars, and I haven't yet got clearance to land. So for now, I remain in orbit sending routine telemetry and maintaining the status quo. As the old saying goes: Lord willing and the creek don't rise....https://youtu.be/BtFrxJnZ4HI

July 6, 2017 my youngest son is 40 now

...and I'm nearly old enuf to be my own grandpa. One passed away in 1968 nearly a year after, and due to complications from, massive cardio-vascular surgery. He smoked a tobacco pipe, and his diet was highfat, high sodium, and he was frequently exposed to petroleum based woodfinishing products, now known to cause cancer in some states. The other lived until his 90's, I'm pretty sure, smoked Chesterfields for decades, worked as a welder in the shipyards, was exposed to asbestos during the war, and ultimately succumbed to prostate cancer. Hmmm.

On the other hand, I nearly died of stage 4 lymphoma before I was even fully diagnosed at age 57. It would've looked like asphyxiation. Boom.
5 years ago.
There were times during treatment that I didn't know how I felt. It became a running joke, are you ok, what does that mean? How am I supposed to know? These days at times, I am, or seems more aware than I was then, at least about how I feel, which is rarely consistent but can change at random.
And I'm still here, plugging along, slower than before, yet comparison to 4 years ago is difficult because my memory of walking to the grocery, or anything else, is skewed with distortions and scenes that don't sit easily in a timeline.
But how do I feel now? 

So... it's been some time since I pecked out another...

...screed, and I got the gumption to sit and try to focus a thought on the screen/keypad and catch the flow of the stream. No easy task I have developed a capricious attention, the mental running list is ongoing, erratic, spontaneous, serendipitous and prankish. Will it, or won't it and if it won't why won't it, (or is that will it) and if it will, why will it not? Indeed. So in the end, or at least in the meantime, you will it so and move on.
Now while all this is happening, we find that it's been 4 years since my last bendamustine/rituxin infusion. All 6/6 were completed by March 6 of 2013. I was at the time in the midst of recovering from that last one and the overall effects of the whole thing. Recovery, as it were, and is, never really ends. Of course there are more than those factors alone that contribute to the continuing saga, in short; that's life. Really. If it's not Life, we don't know it.
Because... Life is All we Know. Much of my childhood education was spent in the library, bookstore, random bookshelf, magazine rack, coffee table and newspaper stand I chanced to be around as reading was my preferred occupation. Everything was interesting. Reading about sports was alright depending on the nature of the story, but after a certain point in life I became loathe to engage in physically competitive games. It simply wasn't a developed skillset of mine. So I tended to focus more on the sciences, and inventors, which soon enough led to fiction written by scientists who were conveying scientific principles and theories via a fictional setting. Thought provoking, and often straddling many connected topics. For real entertainment I dived through every "truth is stranger than fiction" knockoff I could find. Which made me a future fan of the X-Files, strolling at the Twilight Zone, the Outer Limits, One Step Beyond and Night Gallery. Ripley's Believe It or Not, Tales from the Crypt, anything in that vein, some of it of course better than the rest, but the ironic twist bestowed upon victim, or perpetrator was mental scintillation. Usually "based on" a "true" story, the reader (or veiwer) is usually more than glad that such events are rare. There was much to be said for their educational value. Like a traditional mystery, you learn to look for motive, method, and outcome. The art of the con and boy have I got a deal for you, watch out in life there are predators everywhere. Later, my instruction in wariness became more practical and hands-on, real life is for keeps. Luckily, I got the message, but there were still things I didn't see coming.
And so here we are, looking at the last 5 years (since spring of 2012), what a ride!
My pupils are still dialated since this morning's eye exam, it's not whether but when I'll have surgery to remove the cataract and replace the lens. One of the side effects of life and accelerated by steroids and chemo. I must remember that it's about the data and the numbers as far as the quality of the procedures success and my assessment of the outcome being part of that equation. Well it would make doing this easier and it may improve my general perception. It's when the outside world, over which and the actions of, you have little to do and even less control, intrudes upon ones otherwise private and separate domain that one feels not only challenged but victimized and vulnerable through no fault of one's own. But being jeopardized by the arrogance of strangers out to bully the world is by far the biggest challenge to "quality of life." I have always numbered in the minority, even among the generally accepted on the minority side (are these assessments ever accurate beyond a general point?) there seems to always be something that the group overlooks in favor of the most common denominator. Nonetheless, I continue to carry on... by the way you may have noticed a highly emotional "rant" some months ago, and I must declare that you're entitled to have seen at least one as they have rarely (if ever) appeared in print, but are I'm sure a wonder to behold when spontaneously performed live and in the flesh, a treat to have been enjoyed by only a rare few and not likely to ever be witnessed again. But I refuse to promise except I seem to be short of the explosive energy required. If you missed it, that ship has sailed, that train has left the platform, that cork has done popped, Elvis has left the building. Finally, one must have some hope that the "return on investment" is worth the strength needed to summon the anger an appropriate sacrafice would demand. ET has gone home, the die is cast and Scrooge has done been visited by the 3 spirits. Outside of insignificant detail brush strokes the picture is painted, the Mona Lisa ain't gonna smile, Escher's stairways go nowhere and Schrodenger's cat just won't stay put...
Speaking of strokes; it has been 3 years since my stroke event and 3 hour ride in the MRI, it was Easter and not the fault of the poor technician who worried for my safety and well being during the ordeal. I'm sure it could have been worse, it was excruciating for one person who cried having been forgotten and had not been informed of my condition. But that too did pass and so also does the PTSD of the experience providing I don't dwell too long on it. Not one I wish to repeat regardless of the positive outcome. It's been a month since I started this so time to publish and begin again.
To be continued-