Truckin'

Five infusions of SGN-35 down. All went fine. I feel pretty damn good for one day post-chemo. I don't know how long this will last and that is a difficult reality to wrap my brain around. Dealing with this continued treatment is a constant balance between hope and despair when looking at my "future" and whatever that means. There are no guarantees except that nothing is certain and nothing is forever – the good or the bad. 

Tonight, I'll let the Grateful Dead speak it for me. This song has been coming up an awful lot in my playlist and I like it. A long, strange trip it's been for sure, but what can I do but keep on truckin'? I know no other way. 

Truckin got my chips cashed in. Keep truckin, like the do-dah man
Together, more or less in line, just keep truckin on.

Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street.
Chicago, New York, Detroit and it's all on the same street.
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings.

Dallas, got a soft machine; Houston, too close to New Orleans;
New York's got the ways and means; but just wont let you be, oh no.

Most of the cast that you meet on the streets speak of true love,
Most of the time they're sittin and cryin' at home.
One of these days they know they better get goin'
Out of the door and down on the streets all alone.

Truckin', like the do-dah man. Once told me you've got to play your hand
Sometimes your cards a'int worth a dime, if you dont lay 'em down,

Sometimes the lights all shinin' on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been.

What in the world ever became of sweet jane? 
She lost her sparkle, you know she isn't the same
Livin' on reds, vitamin c, and cocaine,
All a friend can say is ain't it a shame? 

Truckin, up to Buffalo. Been thinkin, you got to mellow slow
Takes time, you pick a place to go, and just keep truckin' on.

Sittin' and starin' out of the hotel window.
Got a tip they're gonna kick the door in again
I'd like to get some sleep before I travel,
But if you got a warrant, I guess you're gonna come in.

Busted, down on Bourbon street, set up, like a bowlin' pin.
Knocked down, it gets to wearin' thin. They just wont let you be, oh no.

You're sick of hangin' around and you'd like to travel;
Get tired of travelin' and you want to settle down.
I guess they can't revoke your soul for tryin',
Get out of the door and light out and look all around.

Sometimes the lights all shinin' on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been.

Truckin', I'm a goin home. Whoa whoa baby, back where I belong,
Back home, sit down and patch my bones, and get back truckin on.
Hey now get back truckin home.