LIfe Goes On

within you and without you. . . Hep has become sort of a distant memory. As usual, life is as good as I let it be. Some days a diamond. . . some days a stone. ;)

Best wishes to everyone. . . never any exceptions.

Max

this is the end. . . . my only friend. . the end

I got 47 week post tx bloodwork. The virus is UND according to Heptimax. . . that measures to <5 iu/ml. So, this is the end of the last verse of what had become a very long trip.

I've been dealing with hepatitis C for almost two years now. I feel almost breathless now that the 'thing' is over.

I posted to a forum almost immediately because those are the people who helped me get through the ordeal. People I know have thought the game was over 8 months ago. . . I was never completely sure until now. Anyway, most think tx for geno 3A always works. . . unless you screw the pooch in some way. "Of course you cleared, you've got geno 3."

There are some post tx blood chemistry anomalies that will probably correct themselves to some degree in another year or so. My concern over ALT, and cholesterol is waning very quickly.

I did have some interesting feelings while I sat here after hearing the news. I was both relieved (really beyond words), but I also felt and thought. . . why me? I know plenty of people who probably deserve to be free better than I. So, why me?

The feeling held on a day or so, until I realized (was told) that everyone deserves SVR. . . no one really deserves to have the virus at all.

I guess this really is the end. . . and the beginning. I may come back and add a photo to this last post. And, this is the very time I would like to say something remarkable. . . since this has been a most remarkable journey.

peace,

Max

When Is it Time to Throw in the Towel

The guy above holding the snake must be a shaman. . . who the hell else would want to do it? Maybe the camp cook? The panel is from the Fremont culture. They made baskets and used atlatls to kill game. . . . no pottery or bows and arrows yet.

Been thinking about the psychology of defeat. Hemingway says no one suffers defeat except during the act of surrender. Heroes often die without ever being defeated

I watched the NBA championships to see when the defeated team. . . individually or collectively would give up. Watching an athlete who makes $20 million concede defeat is interesting. They fight the good fight. . . generally, but at a certain moment each one concedes defeat.

I'm watching the Tour de France now. A single rider from Denmark won the 11th stage (or 12th) handily. The others gave up. A group of seven cyclists can overtake a group of two anytime they want to. . . badly enough. Today, a group of 170 gave up and then a group of 7 gave up. It was interesting to see.

What makes people doubt their ability to succeed? Professional athletes know very well that confidence in their abilities is the single indispensable trait of winners.

Been thinking about heppers. I go with Hemingway on hep. . . one is not defeated until he surrenders. That happens when someone stops fighting the good fight. They allow general health to decline because the virus is supposedly killing them anyway.

Also been doing some soul searching about my own viral status. How will I react if my PCR comes back virus positive? It will be a test of character every bit as much as a assay for virions. Will I give up if things don't go my way? I may have an opportunity to find out more about myself. . . fairly soon.

The above pic is granary common to the Anasazi culture formerly centered in the four corners area of the US. Agriculture was well established by this time period. Dessicated ears of corn can still be found among less accessible ruins. They're two to four inches long. . . I've seen a very few that might have been close to six inches.

Those ancient strains of corn are as valuable today as they were then. They represent a safe deposit box of unadulterated seed. They're pure in the sense they haven't been manipulated by humans. Hybridization and genetic mutation have been focused mainly on corn crops today. If (when in my mind) those experiments go badly awry. . . it is hoped that the ancient strains will be available to provide a stable gene source to feed the humans not yet born. The largest remaining ruins of this culture are at Mesa Verde and the Chaco complex.

Beans are a major cash crop in the region to this day. 'Anasazi' beans are popular and the growers claim they are a true genetic identical to those grown by the people who built this granary.

Vicarious Living

I was out on the terrain for a few days and it occurred to me that people who spend too much time in front of a computer screen are, indeed, living vicariously, or maybe engaging in a sort of pretense regarding the reality of life on the planet.

I was thinking that about myself and how unreal life can become when it loses direct and intimate contact with those things whose reality is beyond question. The San Rafael Swell is a good example of concrete, metaphysical, spiritual, and in all ways essential reality. In places like these life is distilled to its very essence.

I hiked around a few days and didn't carry a bulky camera, so the pics are minimal and not interesting. At the top is a 61 year old who has just about gained a good level of fitness after the chemical beat-down of tx.

The bottom pic is a cross section of railroad bed and a small stack of flagstone that may have helped span a wash if the construction had continued. However, the capitalist venture came to an end prematurely and about forty miles of grade and a few stone culverts are all that remain. Most likely the venture was funded with public money which was siphoned off by speculators and 'projecters' who made fortunes even though the line was never completed. As I walked along it, I wondered if the likes of Jay Gould or other infamous robber barons were responsible for the debacle. Business back then was conducted much as it is today.

The middle pic is an unflattering view of the norther reef of the Swell. The canyons must be entered to be appreciated. The upper washes are fragrant and green with frequent deep pools of water trapped in the sandstone. The beauty is profound. . . the silence awesome. Others have described it better.

"If one is inclined to wonder at first how so many dwellers came to be in the loneliest land that ever came out of God's hands, what they do there and why stay, one does not wonder so much after having lived there. None other than this long brown land lays such a hold on the affections. The rainbow hills, the tender bluish mists, the luminous radiance of the spring, have the lotus chosen." Mary Austin

The wilderness act of 1964 reads ". . . . an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. . . "

"I love canyons--dry, fragrant, stone-walled, with their green choked niches and gold-tipped ramparts." Zane Grey

"One thing that appears to be clear to me now is that the moments of adventure--for the truly adventurous--are widely separated by long periods of hard work. Perhaps it's best that way." Kent Frost.

Mitakwe Oyasin

Sport Driving and Other Pursuits

This is the last car I owned that would do anything on the highway. It had an ALH series TDI (turbo direct injection) diesel engine. It was great road car. The combination of suspension, wheel base, aerodynamics combined with a torque curve only attainable with a diesel made it handle very well. It would get from 80 to 100 mph more quickly than anything else I've ever owned. . . and would cruise at 80 while getting 45 miles per gallon of fuel.

Maximum torque was at 2800 rpm. Cruising at 80 mph put the tach at about 3,000. That meant passing a car happened almost at the apex of the torque curve. Comparable gas engines get max torque somewhere between 4 and 5K. . . meaning driving one of them at 80 would require a downshift to gain max torque as needed to pass other cars. That's one reason a six speed gearbox is becoming so popular.

The above crash happened on a curve I've been driving a long time. An isolated cell happened to dump enough rain to cause about a half inch to puddle up where traction was necessary to hold the road. It was kind of a fluke or freak occurrence. . . highly localized heavy rain in exactly the wrong place. The dry pavement ended at almost the exact apex and the standing water couldn't be seen until the curve had already been entered.

The VW rolled like a jelly bean. It rolled twice laterally and one endo before coming to rest on some railroad tracks that lie on the far side of a Jersey barrier. No seat belt and I walked away. . . just a stiff neck afterward. I think the term is 'shaken up.' Didn't realize until later that no air bags had popped. I wonder about that?

I had intended to publish a dinosaur track last fall. This is an example of Jurassic sauropod that roamed the area 150 to 200 million years ago. . . . hind foot with five toes (slight imprint of the fourth barely visible to right of three) with only three having claws. . . hence the typical 'three toed' imprint. These are found many places in this area.

The various geologic formations and fossil remnants of flora and fauna indicate the region was frequently inundated by inland seas. Tourists are generally given that info without being told that tectonic plate theory holds that this piece of ground was located close to the equator at the time and in a more recent time period was uplifted relatively intact.

Digging for dino bone is punished with a prison sentence. Digging for any human artifact is also frowned on. Of course, people who live here sometimes find relics on their own private property. Petrified (fossil) wood requires only a free permit from the BLM and 25 lbs per day can then be collected.

I might try to organize some of my own specimens and post pics here. . . then again.

Life After

The grand adventure of hep C and tx ended at about six months post treatment. Things are now as 'normal' as they will ever be. . . 'normal' of course being a figure of speech with no literal meaning. I"ll have the final PCR and blood work done in a couple months. In my mind the jury is in and the virus is gone.

I tried to remain active on the Hep forums with the idea that I might be able to share my experiences and perhaps give some support. That has met with a small amount of success. I talk with treaters or post treaters on the phone from time to time and try to offer hope without engaging in fantasy. I also tried to keep up with latest research and thinking about tx since I have many friends who didn't respond or relapsed.

My mind is full of PI's, IR, predosing, alinia, SAM-e, and all rest. . . but from now on I'll not try to 'keep up' because I just don't have the passion for it. My desire not to reside in a liver centered universe has been achieved/granted. There's just a lot more going on in the world than hep C.

I do post regularly to a board that seems to tolerate me moderately well. I still correspond with hepper friends. . . and will try to keep those friendships alive as long as I am.

At times I'm tempted to respond to different controversies here. . . on my own turf, but have come to realize they don't matter enough to clog my mind or this space.

So, this is probably the end of the tx blog although I'll probably post my 12 month PCR results here. I'm very interested in the politics and economics of the US and the world in general. Any further blogging will most likely follow those interests.

I hope you people who've stood by me throughout this insane ordeal know how humbly grateful I am for your support and friendship.

Love and Light

The above pics show the Lake City Caldera in the San Juan range of western Colorado. As the name implies it is the crater of a mega volcano that erupted earlier in the planet's history. Timber line is about 1000 meters below. The dark patch is a stand of fir trees. The lighter green above is tundra. That consists of various vegetation that can adapt itself to growing close to the ground. A good sized fir can be 30 meters. . . any that make it in the tundra grow to a few centimeters. This is considered back country. These pics were taken end of summer. . .last few days of July. The snow remains from the previous winter.

Trees stop growing for two reasons: lack of water and, in the case here, it's just too cold. The frigidity timberline is about 10,000 ft in the western US. I've read it's as low as 5 to 6000 ft in the northeast US. Apparently, it's a hell of a lot colder back there. Subalpine trees are short and gnarled. . . and often very old.

FWIW, aridity prevents tree growth generally west of the 100th meridian. The great plains have deciduous trees mainly along waterways. A line of trees most always indicates a river or stream. That continues to the eastern foothills of the Rocky Mountains. There's ample water from snowmelt to grow a variety of species depending on elevation. Then, at about 10,000ft (3000 m), they stop growing as shown here because of the frigidity timber line.

West side of the Rockies is in some ways similar to the great plains. The region is called the Great Basin and generally lies in a rain shadow cast by the west coast mountain ranges. . .the Cascades and Sierra Nevadas. Actually the geography is basin and range with the ranges being about 100 miles apart. Each mountain range is tall enough to grab some moisture out of the passing clouds. In the middle of Nevada (driest state in the US) there are ranges that support alpine forests along with a large variety of wildlife. (end of travelogue)

It's 20 weeks post tx. VL at 16 weeks was UD, so apparently the bugs are gone for good. The good part is I feel as good as I did pre-tx. The other news is I thought I would feel better. . . since the dreaded virus is apparently history. I wasn't particularly worried about liver disease prior to treatment. I did think my overall health would noticeably improve once I cleared the virus. So far, I don't feel a lot better than I did before the tx ordeal, although things may improve with time. My system is still involved in metabolic changes. I expect those to level out with time.

I will say the ill effects don't seem to be permanent. No autoimmune disorders, fibromyalgia, or depression. . . none of the lingering nasties that plague some people post tx. I just don't feel like a kid again. The calendar tells me I'm not a kid, but the desire to feel bulletproof like a 25 yr old is still with me.

I've always held that people who either write or read blogs do so because they haven't anything better to do. I wrote this today because I wanted to. It's not a plea for attention. These notes amount to musings. . .not really prepared for an audience.

May we all live in internal peace. That way external peace will follow. . . as the night the day.

Max

Life Goes On

I had almost forgotten about this project. Got a very nice PM from someone at the Nomads and decided to make it current. I'm making an effort to exercise and generally increase my level of activity. On Sunday, I went hiking in the local area. Guess this is about 4 miles from the house. Around here we hike, climb or ride a bicycle, and of course, all the motorized stuff. With snow on the rock and the temp below freezing, things can be tricky. :)

The whole post tx experience is interesting. Day by day, things don't really seem to improve very much. But, last night I remembered all the stuff that has gone away and realize that most, if not all the sides are gone. So, everything I hoped for when I started tx has come true. I've been very fortunate. Getting rid of hep C after 40 years with only mild/moderate liver damage is a gift. I hope to find ways to give back some of the support that was so generously given to me.

I plan to hang around the forums as long as I can be of any help. It seems like as the SOC treatment improves, there will be a lot more people being tested and ultimately doing treatment. I'll be reluctantly moving to an urban area soon (Ogden, Utah) and will have opportunity to attend face to face meetings. I hope to do something about WHAD this year.

So, like the rest of life, nothing has really ended. Seems there's still a few more turns round the carousel. Humble thanks to everyone.

The self portrait at the right was one of about half dozen taken on Sunday. Of course, I chose the one that looked nicest. The habit of taking self-pics got started when I decided to publish one every week during tx to see (and let others see) how my appearance changed. Week 7 pic below was about the worst.