I’m done. Today was the last day of my Radiation Therapy. I’ve spent the last 3 weeks laying underneath this huge machine for 15 minutes everyday, and spent the last 2 months living heavy, and I don’t ever have to do it again. I don’t ever have to learn nurses names again while I’m standing there butt-nekked. There are no more tests to take, no more levels to check, nothing left lingering in my system, and no reason to look back. I don’t ever have to lay on that table again and stare at my reflection in the laser screen while radiation beams at me. And I no longer have to be brave, or positive, or keep my mind occupied just to get through my days. It’s officially over. See that picture up there? See that table with me NOT on it? Booyah.

I just got home from work but I’m on my way out. Marching my ass across the street and up to the Cloisters before the sun sets on today and this amazing feeling in my heart. And I’ve packed my hospital gown, my health charts, my How To Live With Cancer booklet, my hospital-visit underwear, and a pack of matches to take with me. I’m finding a rusty old trashcan near the ruins, striking up some matches, and burning this ugly stuff up today. Burning it up, ya’ll. A moment like this comes around hardly ever, and I’m embracing every shred of symbolism in the situation; arson is clearly the proper means to an end. We don’t need no water, let the motherfucker burn. Burn, motherfucker. BURN.

FREEDOM! FREEDOM! All we have to seeeeeeee is that I don’t belong to you and you don’t belong to me, yeah yeah! Blast that George Michael jam up louder, winners, and be thinking of me when you do. Ohh, be sure to put on the “Freedom 90″ mix though, not that other one. I watched his Behind the Music special just the other day. All those millions in his bank account and those teeth are still jacked up, poor guy. You gotta try and allow me some glee here, folks. Cuz this is an important day in my world, see, cuz unlike so many other sections in the book of my life, this here chapter is done. Serious as cancer when I say rhythm is a dancer, and also when I say that I don’t have cancer no more.