So sorry to hear that Charlie - Lot of living to be had. Being able to walk, eat, do anything 'normal' is a gift that I can't ever take lightly anymore

Didn't catch the name of the mutation just Joe told our Dad to tell me the week before he died to get my blood checked for it.

I'm sorry you and your family are going through this right now but knowing you as one of the most level-headed, resilient guys I've never met IRL, I have every confidence you'll be the rock they need now. And when you need support, you know you have it here.

dontfeartheringo wrote: Thu Feb 02, 2023 2:55 pm Ah, fuck, what a terrible thing, Charlie. I wonder if the gene thing is the same one that caught my wife?

BRCA2 mutation? That one?

Man, hang in there. Live life. Don't feel bad about feeling grateful that you woke up today.

<3

Oh, Joe was born unable to eat and spent his last month unable to eat, so I'm paying a lot of attention to what I'm eating - trying new things, scarfing old favorites, just savoring it all, from a frozen burger patty to a sixteen dollar deli sandwich.

TylerDeadPine wrote: Thu Feb 02, 2023 3:10 pm So sorry to hear that Charlie - Lot of living to be had. Being able to walk, eat, do anything 'normal' is a gift that I can't ever take lightly anymore

FM Charlie D, I’m very sorry about your brother. It sounds like you two had a great relationship and I hope that helps comfort you and your family during your grief.

Loads of love to everyone here

seby wrote: Sat Feb 04, 2023 8:18 pm Loads of love to everyone here

Yes. Love to all.

I've typed out a bunch of different responses at different times; all contained varying levels of encouragement and support, etc, but I wound up deleting many (maybe all?) of them because I felt like my perspective on this would not come across as I intended. I've been through this with several family members - my wife was in treatment for 2 full years - chemo, radiation, lots of surgeries (some were very minor tho) and my dad was in some form of treatment from 2014/15 until he died in late 2021. I've posted about my shit before, so I won't rehash, but man, I read these posts and I feel like I'm right there in that place with you.

I follow this thread with hope and dread, because that's what I feel each time I see it. It's a really brutal fact of this life that we have to deal with cancer, loss, debilitating treatments, etc. I was not prepared for it at 39 when the shit really hit the fan. Now, my dad is gone (tho he was 80 when it finally got him) and my wife is still here and cancer free after the 2 years of shit she went through. We are changed because of it, as I'm sure FM Pasta will agree, and I will gladly offer anything I can to help based on what we went through.

Do your best. Take care of the people who need it. One foot in front of the other. Thinking about all of you.

I'm not a spiritual guy, don't believe in the afterlife or ghosts or anything like that. This is not the post where I tell you, "But I felt a presence," either.

Yesterday, I'm working on fixing up my brother's old (Excel) Jazz Bass copy. The wood and construction are good, the neck is shock-straight but the hardware is shit and it's clear he never maintained it, even more clear that he smoked inside - covered in dirt, dust, filth, corrosion... I also have a (Saturday Night Special) Jazz Bass copy, so happens that the hardware is good but the wood is ply, the construction is shit, and the neck is warped and the truss rod is stripped. The electronics on both are... lacking so that'll be a Stew Mac order in the near future, Anyway, it made sense to take the hardware off the SNS and put it on the Excel. Combine two cheap basses into one tolerable bass.

Poured a lowball of tequila, got out the WD-40, the air-duster, the screwdriver and wrench sets, put on the rubber gloves and the Foxy Brown CD and got to work. Finish the tequila about the time Foxy wraps up her bit and grab a beer and put on Gladys Knight and the Pips (Neither One Of Us / Imagination double LP). About the time I'm swapping the tuners, I find myself muttering and I ask out loud, "Why do you have a fucking magnet on your tuning key. dude?"

It wasn't like I was expecting an answer. I knew he wasn't there but the way it came out of my mouth, the sort of chops-busting I used to give him when I worked on his guitars for him back in the day in that attic work-space at my first place, over beers and with a radio that picked up only the R&B / soul station. I had started on the G tuner, I was at the D tuner about this time. I stopped and had a moment of realization. It was just the same way I used to break his balls and he wasn't there. I think I muttered something like "Jesus Christ, dude," and went back to work, still muttering shit like, "Is this wax, dude??" (No, for real, the kid had like fucking candle wax on the A and E tuners.)

I don't know, I just felt compelled to say something out loud. I think maybe I was just in that headspace. Feels weird trying to describe it without sounding like one of those people who has a "Footsteps" poster in their living room but that was how it always was between us: He'd bring me a forty of malt liquor and his guitar and I'd fix it up with whatever salvaged parts I had lying in the tool box, all the while brotherly chiding him for whatever he broke this time, trying to show him how to replace a saddle or solder in a switch and him just saying, "Uh-huh. Uh-huh."

The fucking doofus. Miss that fucker.

This thread is gut-wrenching. Love to you all.

ChudFusk wrote:Love to you all.

Same.

Patrick, I missed your post earlier. Much love to you and your wife and your kid.

They're so much better at treating this stuff now than they were even six or eight years ago. Hopeful for you guys.

Thanks, gents. Miss you all.

We've moved to a new phase of cancer drugs. The first was the Red Medicine, which as I may have mentioned, fucking sucks. The new chemo is every Friday and it's not as hard on her as the first one was. She is still struggling with her hair loss and fatigue, but at least she doesn't pass out for a week after each treatment.

I'm fucking TIRED. I have had so many things go sideways and the number of house projects and car projects (and now a drum project) just never seems to go down. My in-laws moved into the little farmhouse on our land and there's just so many little things that need to be fixed and I'm NOT a great carpenter, so I have to lean heavily on the expertise of friends. They all have jobs to do and money to make, too. It's a lot.

And the car thing is just dumb, but at least it's finally finished. Before Lisa got sick I bought a 2001 Forester with blown head gaskets, knowing that it would need work, but once I finished the b-52s tour, I figured I'd have time to fuck with it. Didn't anticipate all the curveballs that got thrown at me this year.

Ended up buying a used motor, installing it myself (with help) and it had blown head gaskets too. Absolute disaster. Had to surrender and drag it to a garage. $3k and some change later, it better run for goddamn ever.

This year!!