I’ve done a LOT of whitewater. On my  first exposure to the freemasonry of adrenaline-freaks who throw themselves into enormous hydraulic turbulence for fun, I PADDLED the length of the Colorado in small rafts with 16 professional river guides. Mamie and I have done the Rogue more times than I can remember. The Salmon. Middle Fork of the Salmon. The Klamath. The Green. The Stan before the dam. The American. The Merced. If you are looking for an outfit, I did almost all of these trips with James Henry River Journeys —besides trusting them enough to trust them with my daughter’s life, I also recommend their cooking, their string quartets, their wine tastings. There’s a lot more to river touring than the adrenaline.

A few things to keep in mind about rapids:

1.  Keep paddling.

2.  Keep your bow pointed downstream.

3.  Don’t ever let go of your paddle.

4.  Whenever your head is above water — breathe!

I think these will come in handy. Besides, isn’t the whitewater metaphor more appetizing than getting into the gamy details of what my symptoms actually are?

So. It’s getting rocky. But so far, the rockiness comes in episodes. They are increasingly frequent, about 6.0 on the pain scale where 7.5 was my original abdominal pain and 9.5 is trying to pass a gallstone. But the episodes last minutes, not hours. And then they are over. (Keep paddling) Repeated and frequent episodes generate their own secondary effects. Next week is more chemo and the fifth week of radiation, and they keep telling me that weeks five and six are the tough ones. But let’s be realistic — those are WEEKS not MONTHS. (Keeping my bow pointing downstream)

You probably thought I wouldn’t get to the good news. I lost ten pounds. And although, yes I know it is contrary to the very good advice of the best recent books, my oncologist today told me to indulge myself in almond butter, BUTTER butter, even a modicum of white sugar and flour to make the butterfat cohere into, say, a croissant. So Mamie, don’t forget to stop at Tartine before you head home next time.

It’s looking like I won’t be able to make it to school next week. But since my video setup is only a few steps from other vital facilities, I’ll be able to attend class via videoskype and Twitter. (Not letting go of the paddle!) This should be a great way for the students to know for sure that with a little help from me, they can teach themselves.

I have papers to grade, a video project to finish, student comments to engage — my body might have its ups and downs right now but I can still think pretty well. But first I wanted to make sure y’all know how I’m doing: In summary, it’s not all THAT bad, but I wouldn’t pay a lot or stand in line very long to repeat the experience.

And yes, I’m looking forward to breathing, later this very evening.