So What's Next?

Radiation is done.

I do not have to leave my house today at 3:15. I do not have to drop my drawers in front of strangers, employing casual conversation as I do so. I do not have to stare at an external beam radiation machine making two rotations around my aged body as I lie on a table like a cadaver about to be autopsied. I do not have to say, with forced cheerfulness - "See you tomorrow."

I am done. Fucking done.

I lost all discipline over the last two months. Apparently, this shit weighed heavy on my mind.

But today is R&R day. Vacation, baby. Vacation from the spectre of cancer. Gonna read, write, watch a movie, listen to music, listen to a podcast - do whatever the hell I feel like doing that nourishes my soul.

Already, I feel like Jesus when he ascended into heaven. And my father is dead so I don't have to wonder why he has forsaken me.

Shit, man - I feel good.

I also feel challenged.

Dealing with this cancer shit left a mark. In my heart, on my soul, in my mind. Fortunately I already began the good work of the Joe Testa Reclamation Project. Been banging away from the very beginning of 2021.

So I got momentum on my side.

But I gotta take it further. Gotta kick it up a notch. I accomplished a lot, which hipped me to the fact that my potential is unlimited. My true essence has been lying dormant within myself since January 1, 1954, when fucking Dr. Feelgood ripped me out of the womb with forceps. Fucking forceps.

What part of "I don't want to be born" did he not understand?

But here I am. 67 years later. My wife has been through cancer and surgery hell. I have dealt with and am dealing with cancer. So many members of my family have died, many of them prematurely. I feel like god is more of a Mafia boss with a vendetta against the Testa Family - one of the five prominent NH mafioso families.

I would be a fool to leave things as they are. I can do more. I can rescue my life from the dustbin of obscurity. I dealt with this radiation shit, I can deal with the wreakage of my life.

The Pogues - "Fairy Tale of New York" - Call: "I could have been someone." Response: "Well so could anyone."

Take your pick. I could have been someone - personal regret. Well so could anyone - exposing personal regret as excuse.

Either one applies to me.

I am going to do something about it.