Today, I go to see my local oncologist (a person I'm so thankful I've found) and we discuss what to do next. The answer is a now-familiar one for me.

We wait.

We look at my blood counts, which are still in the normal range, and discuss a couple of precautions I'll need to take over the next several weeks as counts continue to drop. I should wash my hands often, for one. This isn't difficult for me because I'm somewhat obsessive/compulsive and convinced every other person on earth is dirty and out to get me by sending radiowave transmissions into the secret brain implant the government placed there to keep close tabs on me several years ago.

Did I say that out loud?

Okay, handwashing isn't a problem.

I should also avoid large crowds for a few weeks. Also easy, because, you know, all the people in those crowds are out to get me. Brain implant, secret transmissions, and germs.

My wife comments that this whole experience has made me more paranoid and mistrusting of other people. But I'm pretty sure she's out to get me, too. I've seen her using all the soap around the house, just so it will be dirty when I use it.

I'm just kidding about all this, of course; I hope you know that by now. I know everyone's not out to get me. Only those of you who have that invisible third eye on your foreheads, which only I can see because of my secret brain implant from the government.

Anyway, those are the only real precautions over the next several weeks. If my blood counts get too low, I'll have to be extra careful about infections, viruses and such.

Since I'm no longer in my radioactive phase, I've begun to look for possible side effects of the treatment. Some mild abdominal discomfort, which I've had since the beginning, and which Bexxar prescribing information tells me is a side effect in about 30% of people receiving treatment. Nothing too difficult or unusual; I can handle it. Also, oddly enough, it feels as if my taste buds are a bit fried. My beloved Diet Dr. Pepper tastes more acidic. In fact, most foods taste more acidic. I still have no desire for Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, which heretofore have been the world's Most Perfect Food in my book. This is especially unfortunate and tragic, since we've purchased a huge bag of the candy for forthcoming trick-or-treaters. Usually, I'm able to eat about 50 peanut butter cups, give out about 10 to trick-or-treaters, and tell myself that we had a lot of trick-or-treaters this year because all the peanut butter cups are gone. This year, however, I may not be able to eat those peanut butter cups. Halloween just won't be the same.

A few taste buds are a small thing to sacrifice, though. So I won't complain. I'm feeling good, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I'm convinced this treatment is exactly what I was supposed to have; I've felt guided to it since the beginning.

So now, as I said before, the waiting game begins anew. In the clinical trial for people who had Bexxar as an initial treatment, people had a Complete Response (a remission) as fast as two months--55 days, to be exact. So I might expect to see a complete remission before the end of the year.

On the other hand, at least one person went 693 days before getting a complete remission. I'm no math major, but I know 693 days is roughly two years. Yes, two years.

So, if I get a complete response, it might be as soon as two months...or as long as two years. Once again, I have an opportunity to regret ever praying about learning patience.

Still, it's nice to know that, whatever happens, I won't be doing anything else for two years. After all (provided there's not huge progression of the disease or other factors), I might need to wait that long to get the good news of a complete remission. Maybe even longer, because I might be outside the norm. God knows I'm outside the norm on many other factors.

So, I'll wait. And in the meantime, I'll continue to keep involved. I've been asked to speak to other follicular lymphoma folks here locally, and since getting some local coverage in the Billings and Missoula newspapers a few weeks ago, I'm hearing from more and more folks all the time. I need to view this as an opportunity to learn more patience, which is a Good Thing. And I need to view this as an opportunity to speak with other people, help them through their own dark times. I need to learn from this, and help teach others from this. I firmly believe there is opportunity to turn anything bad into something good.

Who knows? Maybe the government will even remove my secret brain implant.