Last Sunday, a sudden seizure led me to the gates of Kaiser in San Francisco, California. Subsequent scans threw a curveball my way - the discovery of a Low Grade Glioma (LGG), commonly referred to as a “Stage 2 Low Grade Glioma.” Its size is comparatively modest, resembling a smudge on a piece of bread rather than the typical golf-ball-sized mass. Thankfully, it was caught early.

While there's no definitive "cure," the prognosis can vary widely. I oscillate between the best case - where it's entirely removed, and I lead a normal life - and the gravest scenario, where life takes an unpredictably challenging turn post-removal. The full picture will become clear once the tissue sample is examined.

Confronting one's mortality is jarring, but another weight pulls me deeper into introspection. The possibility that the Amaranth Chronicles, my magnum opus, may remain unfinished is daunting. The unfinished chapters, the nascent artwork, the tales yet to be told - all potentially lost to time. This universe, my life's dedication, might never fully emerge from the shadows of my mind, and that feels like a cosmic injustice.

However, I find solace in the words of Marcus Aurelius: “Here is a rule to remember in future, when anything tempts you to feel bitter “Not everyone dies, some people become symbols”. A story about the trails and tribulations of the nature of human mortality:

In the midst of uncertainty, I leave you with a sentiment from a previous entry. I 3D modeled and animated a character from “The Amaranth Chronicles: Deviant Rising”. The character known as Xander Pacius, Captian of the vessel “Deviant Rising”.

UPDATE!

02/01/2022

A week post-surgery, the universe had another twist in store for me. The diagnosis escalated from a Grade 2 to a Grade 3 tumor. It was not the modest smudge we once thought but rather a larger, more formidable presence nestled within my Insula, an area of the brain often associated with profound emotions.

Given its location and size, the slow growth of the tumor was nothing short of miraculous. This anomaly was something the doctors couldn’t quite wrap their heads around.

To counter this newfound challenge, an intensive treatment regimen was charted out - six grueling weeks of radiation followed by nearly a year of chemotherapy. The journey was challenging, every day presenting its unique battle. Yet, as I approached the 11th month, a curveball in the form of a minor stroke hit me. A side effect of the radiation, it seemed.

While many would say my experiences during this period were marked with terror, there was another emotion that surged even stronger: profound amazement. Moments that transcended the boundaries of reality, blurring the lines between the tangible and the surreal. Experiences that felt less like real life and more like a sci-fi odyssey.

Through the terror and pain, my perception of life evolved. The world appeared different, reminding me of the fragility of our existence, but also of the awe-inspiring wonder that each moment can bring.

I continue this journey with a heart filled with gratitude for each breath and a soul eager to embrace the marvels that lie ahead. My latest blog post;

Fear and Courage