Live blogging from the pit of my stomach

PREGAME

ANNOUNCER 1: We're coming to you LIVE from the living room, where Josh and Cindy are going through their final preparations before what could be the biggest appointment of their lives.


ANNOUNCER 2: But you wouldn't know it.


ANNOUNCER 1: No you would not. We're getting unconfirmed reports that they're preparing for this monumental event by watching....wait for it....The Real Housewives of New Jersey.


ANNOUNCER 2: Talk about a couple of cool customers.


ANNOUNCER 1: Or a couple of people in the throes of denial.


ANNOUNCER 2: [chuckles]


ANNOUNCER 1: [chuckles]


ANNOUNCER 2: Let's throw it down to our sideline reporter who's standing by with Cindy now.


SIDELINE REPORTER: [points microphone at Cindy] Quite a scene here in the living room. Cindy, tell us how you're feeling.


CINDY: F*&K YOU I HAVEN'T HAD MY COFFEE YET!


SIDELINE REPORTER: Let's get a word with Josh. How are you dealing with the pressure of today's appointment?


JOSH: We're just trying to take it one day at a time. We've worked so hard to get to this moment and now we just have to OH MY GOD HOW CAN THERESA POSSIBLY WEAR THOSE SHOES TO GO CAMPING? ARE YOU SERIOUS? WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED TO THE BRAVO NETWORK???


SIDELINE REPORTER: Let's go back upstairs. Guys?


ANNOUNCER 1: Wow, those two really love television.


ANNOUNCER 2: It's pathetic. And awesome.


ANNOUNCER 1: So that's all from here. Soon, the burning questions will all be answered--Is this cancer treatable? How much does it cost to park at the Dana Farber? Can Theresa walk on the beach in stilettos? Stay tuned for the postgame show!

POSTGAME

I guess this makes it official:

Cindy and I have just emerged from the information tornado that is a meeting with an oncologist. It's hard to know where to begin. Here are the main things we learned:

• At the moment, it appears that my cancer is all one mass that's at the point where my esophagus meets my stomach (a place I call "Dorito-ville").
• One mass: good. More than one mass: bad
• A PET scan tomorrow will hopefully confirm the one-mass theory. A PET scan will NOT explain why my cat is so fat, however. That's a whole other kind of PET scan, apparently.
• If the scan confirms what we hope it confirms, I will immediately embark on an agressive course of radiation treatment.
• When/if the radiation reduces the size of the tumor, the next step will be to surgically remove it and everything it's currently attached to.
• What stage cancer do I have? Three or four. More specificity will have to wait for the moment.

If I had to pick the one thing I learned today that trumps all others, however, it's this: The fact that I've chronically overeaten for 40 years is the only thing keeping me from being on a feeding tube right now. 

In other words, Burger King saved my life and Weight Watchers can suck it.

We talked a little about five-year survivability rates for this type of cancer. Let's leave it at this: the number he gave me would have terrified me a month ago, before all of this started. Today it seemed like a gift. It's all about perspective, I guess.

That's the update for now. Thanks, as always, for the kind thoughts and support.