One of my many new mantras is, "You can visit Despair, but you can't live there." We're trying rill, rill hard not to put down roots in that particular zip code, so we're doing shit about it.

But first! Updates.

Dave finished radiation and the first round of chemo a few weeks ago. Other than some fun reverse-tonsure balding, you'd never know the dude was sick. (Which, TBH, can be kind of a mind-fuck.) No real nausea, not much dizziness, just a mild sense of dislocation and more naps than Baby Jack ever took. You'd almost stop taking this shit seriously.

That's what cancer wants, though—for you to relax, get comfortable, and start thinking you can control shit. Control is an illusion. God, I hate that there are so many things you learn as a grown-up, starting with the fact that there are no grown-ups. Just add "Control is an illusion," to "Every Republican accusation is an admission," "I don't have to do nothing but stay Black and die," and "There is no spoon." (I'm all sorts of philosophical these days. Rawlsian, if we're being specific.)

There isn't much to do until July, when Dave starts the next rounds of chemo, along with wearing a funky-fresh neurotransmitter doohickey called an Optune device. (It looks like straight quackery, but apparently there's real science behind it.) Instead of twiddling our thumbs for the hiatus, we're coming together as a family to bond, make memories, and relax in the holiest of sanctuaries. We're going to Vegas, bitchez! Slots and tables are not for the likes of us, though. We're hitting up Meow Wolf and the Neon Museum. We're gonna explore the Arts District and the Hoover Dam. We're taking a mother-effing helicopter from the mother-effing Strip to the Grand Canyon. Boom goes the dynamite! It's shocking how much your outlook improves when you visit someplace besides Despair.

And we'll be thinking of all you, who've been far too generous with your love, support, and money. I mean, we'll take it, but I'm far too neurotic not to feel conflicted about it; I'm always worried that we'll exhaust our village before we really need it. The hard truth is that this isn't the bad part. When that time comes, worry not, I shall be vocal and persistent. Until then, I'll keep you in the loop, and you keep us in your thoughts. The spoon may not be real, but for damned sure, the way y'all show up for us is.