I now have a presription for a drug we'll call RainbowsyUnicorns (tm) which I am told is non-addictive, harmless, and can be taken in huge quantities without consequence. Headologist Bootstraps said, "If you have a meltdown, just take it until you feel happy." I think that might mean I have just been prescribed 180 sugar pills. But whatever. I feel happy.
Last night, my dad had a purely social dinner out with his old doctor, the one who diagnosed him. According to the doctor, if my dad still feels good in a few months, he should be re-evaluated for "spontaneous remission." Meantime, my dad says, he is going to proceed with his life as if someone at the lab just completely screwed up. He is euphoric. It is nice to hear, even if the odds of his being spontaneously and inexplicably cured are low.* However, from the way my dad described this dinner (yes, he did call me today) the doctor did not rule it out and was very... happy. Whatever that means.
Other news: I have a meeting with the climbing coach tomorrow. I agreed to this meeting because I knew that if I didn't have a "meeting" I wouldn't go. Panic and horror is simply not a sustainable lifestyle, so I am, for the time being, going to go with the euphoria producing assumption that we have a spontaneous unicorn and all is well.
Gosh, I feel good. Wow, scary good. Should be illegal good.
Thank you for reading. (And have a good weekend).
*more backstory in September archives.