Cancer - Day Zero.

Day One: Chaos and Hope

Factory Forest Festival.

Shortly before I started treatment for my lymphoma, I had an unusually vivid dream about an imaginary music festival. Set in a giant expansive grove of tall grass, the stages and grounds were surrounded by long tall dramatic trees. In amongst the trees were long-abandoned broken-down factories that had obviously not been in use for decades. 

In the dream, if you got to the festival early you could explore any of these hidden industrial buildings in amidst all the green. Inside, the festival organizers had converted the factories to living quarters for the various festgoers. So you could claim a portion of one of the buildings for yourself.

Me and my friends drove up there early and scouted out our favorite factory building, hidden back behind a water park playground that had been built in the trees. It was a gorgeous suite, with ceilings that seemed higher than the Washington Monument when you looked straight up, and beds built onto the sills of gigantic cathedral-like windows. 

We spent the whole festival enjoying the high-energy danceable fusion music that, like the grounds themselves, combined elements of organic and synthetic sound, just like all my favorite artists and my own band try to do. We romped through the trees, explored all the old abandoned structures, and danced all across the open grove in the center. It was the most magical festival I've never been to. 

I would guess the dream came from my inner fears that the chemo treatments are going to make it impossible for me to go to all my favorite festivals this year. Or more optimistically, maybe the dream existed to remind me that even in a shitty year like this, where poisons are gonna get pumped into my body for a solid 6 months, there still may be fun times ahead. 

Side note: I know some festival organizers...could someone reading this please make this thing exist somehow?? Because I seriously want to go to the Factory Forest Festival.

This blog entry brought to you by a trio of stages from the 2001 Dreamcast game Sonic Shuffle, describing my journey over days 2-4: a crazy train of uncertainty and fear, a hazy drug-induced space trip, leading into a tranquil and serene recovery from the first bout with chemo. Onward and upward!

Health Care. Let's Chat.

I have the King Daddy of "Preexisting Conditions." 

So let's talk about health care for a sec. 

I am not a political animal. Most of the time when two people are in a coffee shop fighting over whether Donald Trump is the strong principled outsider who will make America great again or the tyrant schoolyard bully who is turning it into a steaming turdpile, I walk the other way so I don't have to get involved or get hit with crossfire hot coffee.

I don't know how to resolve the Israel Palestine thing. I don't know how to "fix the economy." I'm not registered Democrat or Republican. I usually think people are doing more to save the country by volunteering for Habitat for Humanity than by voting for president. (I've done both. But, I usually felt sad and greasy voting, and have more pep in my step for the housebuilding, thanks.)

That being said. That. being. said.

The politicians currently in charge of the government of the United States America are trying desperately hard to remove something from law. It's called the Affordable Care Act. The aim, or at least so they claim, is to replace it with something "better." 

I'm going to keep this really simple and as apolitical as possible. In the Spring of 2017, I, a professional hard-working 37 year old lifelong resident of the United States, learned that I had cancer.

At that time, I was rolling off of a long-term contract consultancy as a web designer at a leading Silicon Valley company.

After an industrious amount of research, I learned that after my contract expired, no health care plan in the private sector - not one plan that was in the realm of even remotely affordable - would cover my treatments. 

Let me be clear about that - no private medical plan available to me would cover the medicine and procedures which would cure my cancer.

The reason given was that I had INVESTIGATED my cancer with various doctors / labs / hospitals while working contract at my company. Now, any future health insurance would immediately look back at my records and learn that I had been diagnosed with stage two lymphoma. This would be considered by all health insurance companies as a preexisting condition. 

This scenario may sound 'corner case' to you, until you, as I did, start looking online at all the horror stories of people being denied insurance coverage due to preexisting conditions. It does not just happen to consultants. It's not a "California" thing. My story reflects thousands, thousands, thousands of other stories.

As with so many other people, my life was literally saved by a one-and-only option, the ACA - the law on the books that opponents like to unaffectionately call "Obamacare." My choices came down to two: buy my own cancer drugs, or, enroll in my state's ACA option, the only insurance option which would take my preexisting condition and EFFING COVER IT.

Republicans have tried twice now to repeal and replace Obamacare since Donald Trump was elected president. Both times, THEIR version would NOT have covered my cancer. They have not put forth any version that would cover my cancer. If you think I'm wrong, do the research. Look at the coverage for preexisting conditions from programs like Covered California, and then look at what the administration is proposing. Believe me, I know. This is my life, my financial future. I'm paying attention.

So. Look. I don't care who you voted for. And I'm not going to stand on this stump much longer. But please understand me, very clearly: the ACA, Obamacare, whatever you want to call it, is the insurance that is saving my life. It is necessary. It is vital. If you don't like it, vote for politicians that will FIX it. But don't let them take away people's health care.

End speech.

Day 10: Make it so.

Ahhh, Season 1. 

It's day 10, the first 1/18th of my treatment done!

I'm marking the milestone by introducing a new way to tick down the days. I'm watching one episode each day of Star Trek: The Next Generation in order. Later I'll get to watch the mature and dignified later episodes and movies, but for now it's time for goofy, goofy, oh my lord so goofy first season.

Captain Picard mysteriously interested in American detectives of the 1930s (isn't he British, er, I mean French)? Data getting drunk even though he's an android? Sullen Riker moping around Troi ex-boyfriend style while Troi cries basically ALL. THE. TIME? Worf shouting every other line? And Tasha Yar being...well, what WAS her thing anyway? 

It was a strange 1980s-y time for Star Trek. Little did that cast and crew probably know how amazing the show would become, but uhhhhhh...first season, not so much. 

It's probably better that I'm busier and healthier now than I'll likely be later in this 180 day cycle. I'll be needing those later season episodes while I convalesce. For now I'm enjoying the episode-a-day, but also happy to skip through the cringe-worthy scenes. Hooray for streaming video!

"If you prick me, do I not...leak?" -pre-realized Data.

Day 18: Drinks are on me!

It's the little victories. 

Today is day 18, and after being cleared recently to drink by the doctor, I tested out a brewsky, followed by 2 brewskies, followed by a glass of wine. No itching, no burning, no swelling - my body likes alcohol again! 

Listen, the last few days have been shitty. Strike that, this year's been shitty. You've seen me cry my eyes out on my Facebook page about all the terrible changes happening to insurance, about how totally f'd I am financially.

But I'm determined to make this a blog that celebrates the good times and reminds me / you / us that I'm not just moping around for 180 days. 

So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go drink sparkling moscato until I explode. And if you come by my place to visit, the next one's on me.

The Only Playlist You'll Ever Need.

Support me, support the band.

Click this link and listen while you read >

I've gotten a lot of requests recently for a link to my complete musical collection. Some folks who are new to Great Highway, and some who have been listening for awhile, wanted to listen to / download all the GH stuff in one quick motion. It might be the fact that we've been putting out some new tracks this year for the first time in awhile. Or, it could be people just taking a new interest in me because, you know, the cancer (lol).

Whatever the reason, I've created A SPECIAL SOUNDCLOUD ACCOUNT, separate from THE MAIN GREAT HIGHWAY ACCOUNT, for listening to old (excuse me, ahem, 'classic') tunes from my first couple years with the band. 

And this is the part I'm really excited about: I've made a playlist where you can listen to all the tracks ever produced in my studio for Great Highway. We recently passed the 40 song milestone, and now you can hear them all, in order of release (most recent back), any time day or night. Put it on in the background at work or at home and let me know if it delights you. 

Check out the all-Great Highway playlist >

Just a reminder, all our albums are available for free listening as a playlist online or for purchase on iTunes - ask me anytime for links. Oh and, keep tabs on the band in the near future for teaser info about a new release (hint, hint).

Thanks for listening again, or, for the first time. Much love, -Jason, day 22 / 180.

What the hell happened to online dating??

I've been away from dating for awhile since the cancer diagnosis. As most of you know, I'm polyamorous and multi-partner oriented, so usually I maintain a reasonably active profile on apps like OKCupid and Bumble. I'm feeling a bit more normalized and healthy now that my mind and body have settled into the long haul of chemo, so I've been dipping my toes in the water for the first time in months to see what's out there. 

Apparently, it's a shit show.

I should qualify by saying, I really haven't gone on any dates yet or even gotten close to considering it. I just reactivated my OKC and wrote back to a couple messages. Most of the stories I've accumulated from this year are from friends who are out there dating single or poly.

That being said, since 2016 something has CHANGED. I dunno who to blame, but the Marina bros got bro-ier, the girls got fakier, and the poly couples got weirder.

Just recently one of my existing partners messaged with a boy a few times and eventually made plans to go out. Up to just a few hours before the date, he was apparently normal and nice and courteous. Then apparently he turned into a turd sandwich right at the last second, and texted her that he was masturbating so that he wouldn't be "too horny" during their date. She of course pulled WAAAAAAY the hell outta that whole situation, but that didn't stop him from persisting all that evening and for several days after to try and get her to go out with him, using every lame trick in the book from "I was just joking" to "fine who cares I certainly don't" to basically" please oh please oh please go out with me." 

And this is just one of too many stories to count over the last couple months from partners, friends, and friends of friends. The men seem to be desperate, douche-y and careless with women's feelings, sexually desensitized to the point where they'll write anything no matter how totally ugh, just to get attention. (Negative attention seems to be as desired as positive. So ladies, if you think you can get rid of them by saying "you're gross and terrible," nnnnnnnnnope!)

The women seem to have gotten flakier - two men reported stories in the last month of being stood up, in some cases by text within an hour or two of a date, for no particular reason. And if a guy does land a couple dates in a row with a nice girl, she suddenly disappears and reappears in Europe with a note left behind in his OKC inbox, "decided to go sell jewelry in the Netherlands and find myself." 

Couples are writing poly people like me unprompted to see if they're into the WEIRDEST possible first-message kinks.

Hey, you seem like a nice guy in a healthy poly relationship. By chance do you beat your girlfriend with rubber chickens? Would you do it to my gf while I masturbate with a damp sock on my cock? lololol but srsly my name's Bill ur cute. Attaching pic of my cock w/ sock on.

And to make it worse, there's an influx of mystery fake profiles, mostly pretending to be sexy young women, who write me and other men trying to get us to sign up for gross laced-with-porn dating sites where we can easily volunteer our credit card information.

And the icing on this greasy cake? A seeming quadrupling of mail-order and pay-to-play brides from distant lands, usually from Asian countries or Eastern Europe.

OK so all this stuff existed before 2017, but it's all gotten a lot greasier, sketchier, dodgier, weirder and rape-ier. What the hell happened to online dating?? If someone knows the answer, post it on my Facebook wall. The winner gets a free copy of all my Great Highway tracks. 

(OK, they're always free. But still. ANSWER ME!)

It's too nice outside for this.

I'm blogging from my phone for the first time today because, there's no way I can sit in front of a computer today. It's a beautiful spring day and it's one of those days during treatment when cancer just doesn't rule me. So I'm going to spend the day in parks and at street fairs and hanging out drinking cold beers at a friend's birthday. 

Just a reminder from a cancer patient who has gained a new perspective on life: this internet, facebook, instagram, email nonsense we engage in is kind of a buncha horse shit.

Get outside. Life isn't on a screen.

Powering down in 3, 2, 1...

Go Fund Me, and other ways to support.

Today I'm going to give you 3 easy, FAST ways to support me as I run this treatment marathon. Each one means the WORLD to me so if you haven't already, pick your favorite method, take 5 minutes or less, and show me some love. I promise to love you back :)

METHOD 1. Check out the Go Fund Me page HERE.

Yesterday I posted a confession around the dismal state of my finances in the wake of several bills I've received from a hospital visited before my cancer diagnosis.

The flood of positive and supportive response to that Facebook post was overwhelming and so, so lovely. But nobody stepped up to help more than my friend Marianne. Yesterday afternoon she suggested a Go Fund Me page to raise money for my bills. She offered to help me build it and I said "sure" and then ran off to get my next chemo treatments.

When I got home last night, exhausted, I saw that she had run with "sure" in a big way!

Marianne has developed my very own dedicated Go Fund Me page, creating a special account, uploading photos, even writing a beautiful description (better than my own words for sure) about the issues surrounding my financial and health difficulties. 

But if you don't want to or can't donate money, there are plenty of other ways to show your support. And one that immediately comes to the top of mind:

METHOD 2: Thank Marianne by sending a message HERE.

Without her, I wouldn't have even thought of a donations page, nor would we have together raised over $2,000 at the time of this writing (less than 24 hours!!!) from all the amazing friends and strangers who have come to know more about my cancer. I will PERSONALLY be reaching out to and thanking all these folks on Facebook and through other avenues, but Marianne deserves an extra special thank you for getting this ball rolling. You can write a thank you message to her via MY FB Messenger or my email and I will forward it to her. Or you can simply post on my wall a big hearty "THANKS MARIANNE!" and I'll make sure she sees it.

Related activities: you can also thank my wonderful girlfriends, my medical advocate, my shield and sword, and my fierce co-fighter Sky; and my beyond-kind, infinitely emotionally-supportive, back-rubbing confidante Christine. Both of them have so far come to every single one of my chemos and have been the real secret to why I'm surviving this. Thanks Marianne, Christine and Sky! Rawr!

Oh! And, you can forward Marianne's amazing Go Fund Me page on your own Facebook wall - a great alternative to sending money yourself if you can't afford it, because someone with more access to cash may see your post and fund it in your place!

METHOD 3: Listen to the band by clicking HERE.

Throughout this whole cancer ordeal, nothing has kept me sane and centered more than my Sunday and Wednesday rehearsals with my baby, Great Highway. My music means more to me than anything else I have ever created. And my music is free to listen to.

Check out the playlist at the link above, where you can jam out to every song I've ever produced for the band - over 2 hours of music!! - and if you like what you hear, please WRITE ME on Facebook messenger or by email to let me know you listened. I can't tell you how much this would mean to me - it is as shiny as actual money and as supportive as a huge huge hug. 

Signing off, and filled with love, -Jason

PS OVER $2,000 dollars raised! I can't get over it!!

Ummm...y'all BROUGHT it. I'm humbled.

Apparently since my last blog entry yesterday, donations to my Go Fund Me page have more than doubled. You all had given me somewhere around the $2,000 mark as-of yesterday afternoon. This morning, I woke up to find it at around $4,500 and still climbing. 

WOW. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW.

It goes without saying I am humbled, I am in tears, I'm shaking with your generosity. I never thought this could be possible. I have a lot of reaching out to do, a lot of people to thank. I have to wrap my head around how little I understand my life and the people in it. I have underestimated the love around me. 

It will take me some time to thank everyone, especially because this weekend I am taking my first 'big chance' after chemo started. Over 30 days in to my 180 day regimen, I've decided to honor tickets I have to a camping/music festival and go lay in the sun by a lake and watch electronic music. This was something I was told at the beginning I might not be able to do, but my body's been strong and fighting the toxic drugs, and the cancer, with full force. I know I'm lucky. I know I'm blessed. I feel it every day.

I will see you all when I return. In the meantime, don't think you can't still donate just because I'm approaching the arbitrary $5,000 level that Marianne and I set. That $5,000 will go a long way towards covering back-bills I'm getting in the mail from my pre-treatment hospitalization. But even as I hit my out-of-pocket insurance maximum, I'm still paying outrageous $600 premiums just to keep the Obamacare insurance I have (the only insurance that will cover my preexisting condition). So the financial war rages on. 

Thank you all, a hundred times, a million times. You put a smile on my face in some of the darkest of my hours. I'll never forget it. Cheers, -Jason

Lightning in a bottle.

A lot of folks have been messaging me asking me how am I, how's it going esp since I've been radio silent for awhile and the Go Fund Me page has been chugging along on overdrive. In fact since I left just last Thursday, Marianne and friends have raised over SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS for my cancer treatments, up over a thousand from when I left! So my thank yous have turned into giant

THANK YOUS!!!!

and I have a lot of people still to thank. In the meantime, just wanted to drop a quick note to let you know I'm FINE and have been at my first music festival of the summer season, lying in a warm tent by a lake and dancing to electronic music. I'm feeling blessed and happy and loved and I'm excited for the prospect of having some great days this summer - chemo days, yes, but great days too in between. Somehow I managed all these years to vastly underestimate the love in my life. I've truly captured lightning in a bottle.

Many hundreds of thanks to everyone and, I'll write more soon! 

Jorrrrb!!

This week: a new chapter in the treatment saga. I started a JORRRRRRB!

I've been hired by the design team at Uber to help with their driver app. So if you're a driver for Uber, and you have some ideas, fire them my way! 

So far the work has been pretty great, the team is awesome, though what probably stands out the most is the building itself. I've never worked for a startup before - you know, with that "startup atmosphere." This place has it all: strangely impractical triangular couches, conference rooms named after spatial anomalies, a chair shaped like a giant foot. Perhaps the best part is that in order to get to my desk, I have to ascend a gigantic spiral staircase made of steel, glass and, I'm going to say, unobtanium? 

Obviously STARTING a job is the opposite of what most people do at day 40 of chemotherapy. But as a patient who is excelling above the average in terms of health and fitness so far, I thought I might as well make a little extra scratch for as long as I can until my health fails me, IF it ever even does. So wish me luck, zoom zoom!

I'm a big sap these days.

The physical changes that happen during cancer treatment are obvious. If you're curious what an average lymphoma patient is going through at about 1/4th of the way through their treatment cycle, you can look it up online. 

What's more interesting to me is what my brain is going through. The chemical changes are definitely doing "stuff" to me, and sometimes I don't see it coming. 

Latest example: I'm a big ol', teary-eyed, cries-at-every-sad-movie sap all of a sudden. 

I wasn't a huge crier in the past. Like most straight white males, I grew up being taught that crying made you look weak in front of girls, other men, animals, and inanimate objects. (Don't think you can lock yourself in your room and cry - your poster of AC/DC can see you, and Axl Rose is very, very disappointed.) 

Maybe it's the emotional toll of the cancer on me - accepting it, dealing with it, living it. Or maybe the tumors did it. Or maybe the drugs are doing it.

But whatever the reason, I've seen Counselor Troi say goodbye to her rapid-pregnancy alien baby in a cheesy season 2 Star Trek Next Generation episode ohhhh, probably eight times? But the ninth time I watched it the other day, oh how I cried and cried.

I cry now at adorably large shaggy dogs coming up to me on the street. I cry when I produce a particularly great piece of design at work. I cried at my own remix of my own song a few days ago in the studio. I'm a crier now! 

Perhaps the most interesting question: when this is all over and I'm cancer-free, will I still be a crier, or will I return to my previous stoicism? Care to place a bet? 

Stay tuned...