Tales from the Lung Void

Paid the first installment on the new property at Mountain View resort this month. This is the layout. Only the green cabins remain available, and there are only a few. The rest are occupied or reserved. The cabins near the boundary are smaller because of the hedge; they may not accommodate a full-sized adult. I eventually settled on 1-5-19-3, which is further from the entrance and the traffic. This should reduce the noise and pollution in my cabin. For illustration purposes, this is how I’ll be resting comfortably. Sheryl could take the adjacent cabin. I’ve requested deeper isolation from the outdoors because I’ve noticed dogs roaming around and I don’t want to suddenly feel a trickle of warm liquid on my face. Most of the neighbors have a doormat with an inscription. They call them “epitaphs.” I got curious about the wit found globally. With the help of an AI researcher, here are some choice lines: Mel Blanc, American voice actor; the voice of Bugs Bunny and Porky Pig. "That...

Seeing my face in the mirror this morning made me wonder whether I should shave or just let nature take its course. I’ve heard from some women who had chemotherapy that this was the best side effect: getting rid of excess body hair—at least for a while. Today is my first day after the platinum doublet (Carboplatin + Pemetrexed). The side effect I’ve yet to experience is the metallic "platinum" taste. It ranges from "sucking on a penny" to "burnt battery acid," and apparently makes water taste terrible. Maybe I’ll finally pivot to red wine, like the sophisticated. Or almond milk, like the trendsetters.

My vocabulary is growing. Somnolence has a beautiful, soothing sound, as if taken out of a Harry Potter world. It is the clinical term for drowsiness. Since starting morphine, I’ve noticed that closing my eyes—sitting or standing—triggers a drift into fragmented, nonsensical dreams. I asked the AI. It says morphine significantly alters the " hypnagogic " state, blurring the twilight transition between wakefulness and sleep. Morphine induces notorious hypnagogic hallucinations: vivid fragments that occur while I am technically still awake. I should be starting chemotherapy really soon. I am "looking forward" to the effects of chemo brain—what  Annabelle Gurwitch  calls the "unexpected joys" of being a curious bystander to the absurdity.

In October 2025—just six months after being diagnosed with terminal Stage IV lung cancer—I crossed the finish line of the Royal Victoria Marathon. It was my 18th marathon—and my last. Crossing that final finish line was my 18th marathon. In mystical Judaism, numbers and letters are connected through Gematria, where 18 represents Chai—the word for "life." Completing this race was my own quiet way of saying L’Chaim to a community that has sustained me for 15 years. The Victoria Marathon has always held a special place in my heart; it’s where I ran my first marathon back in 2013, and I’ve always appreciated the warm community support there. This past October, it was about finding a sense of quiet closure. My only goal was to end my marathoning journey exactly where it began. A wave of fatigue hit me around the halfway mark, and I ended up walking the last 10K.  I ended up near the back of the pack, and for the first time in 15 years, I didn't care about the clock. I wasn...

It bears no comparison to natural beauty. However, the 15 mg morphine capsule I commenced yesterday is oddly cheerful. So pretty. How does one resist such a specimen?. The pellets remain perfectly still within their yellow and transparent housing, appearing to patiently await a human brain to cuddle. I find myself speculating on the visual upgrades for higher concentrations. Does the 20 mg variant adopt a spaceship silhouette? Is the 50 mg shaped as a diamond and come standard in a blue Tiffany box? One expects the design to improve as the risk increases.

This morning, I spotted a sign on the board about a fascinating new unit at BC Cancer Vancouver: 'Planetary Health.' 🌍 My immediate reaction was, 'I need to volunteer for that immediately!' Though, let's be honest, it doesn't quite have the same ring as 'Intergalactic Health Force.' 🚀 But after reading the fine print, I realized it's actually an environmental initiative. They've been going paperless with exam tables since 2022! Turns out, my dream volunteer role—being the person who expertly lays down the table paper—was eliminated years ago. On the way from BC Cancer to the nearby Bayshore Clinic, we spotted this inviting sign right in front of a cannabis store. It really made me wonder if they have a secret post-treatment breakfast menu. I'll be holding out for the organic green marijuana omelettes and a special side of 'hash' browns.

For my Sunday Art project, I used 3D Slicer to process my February 20 CT scans and reconstruct them in 3D. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something is definitely missing from the left side. The cavity located under the crumpled paper bag could be useful for storage, like the “frunk” found in some electric vehicles. I am scheduled for a chest catheter installation in ten days, but I might see if the respirologist will agree to a small chest door instead. A fairy door would be preferable; it would allow me to access the frunk and keep my painkillers within reach at all times.