(some of you might recognize that title line from the awful 80’s movie, “Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome.” If you’ve arrived at this post by accident, make yourself comfortable and stick around for awhile.  But, be forewarned, there will be no further discussion of any more bad movies

So here’s the latest on Phil’s wacky brain: when last I left you, I had just  learned that my fairly beatable Astrocytoma III had become a snarling Glioblastoma.  This led to my first chemotherapy infusion treatment, which will continue every 4 weeks until we see this tumor good and dead.  As I had been forewarned, Day One was pretty smoothe, while Days Two & Three brought a bit more (yet manageable) nausea.  My physical therapy to regain left-side dexterity & strength were progressing nicely.  It looked like my near future was going to pretty smoothly, and that my chances of beating this thing were high.

Then came this past weekend.  Saturday night,  I had a little scare. After lying on my side on the couch for awhile, I arose and found I couldn’t use my left hand, and soon therafter the left side on the face, throat, and arm. My initial fear was of a stroke, so I contacted my family and let them know I was calling the paramedics, and likely heading into the ER. Which is where my amazing parents and I spent all Saturday night, until the wee hours of Sunday, when we learned that (a) I absolutely did not have a stroke, but (b) had maybe had a small seizure of some kind (my take is more that my tumor finally bumped into something that didn’t like being bumped).

This whole thing (besides resulting in a night of lost sleep for my parents and I) really brought the gravity of this situation to light.  If I am to beat this thing, it’s not going to go quietly.  And, despite my optimism and hope, I have to recognize that only one of us will come out of this thing, while neither of us will escape without some significant permanent damage (the tumor’s damage would be more than mine, but you get the point).

My point here is that I’m quickly becoming aware of the reality of this thing, but am not going down without one heck of a fight (not to mention that I’m not going down, period!).  You all deserve a good show, for all the love & support you’ve shown me through this ordeal, and I’ve got way too much stuff to do in life to cap this thing off at 35. 

Sam Wainright (mentioned in the above clip) is a character in my favorite movie of all time “It’s a Wonderful Life.”(I didn’t say I wasn’t going to talk about great movies, just not about bad ones!)  Sam comes in, at the point where despair has just turned to hope, and puts things over the edge of victory over struggles.  I can’t say for sure whether or not God feels like sending Sam along this time to get rid of this thing once and for all, but I do know that He’s working in this whole process, and I hope that each of you gets to see a picture of a real, relevant God, who has a place in each of our lives, whether by acceptance of His truths, or through rejection of His love.

Thanks again for everything you do.