It's the weekend

And the L train is down...

Which means that there's nobody in Williamsburg and that the streets belong to me and my dog. Of course it would be nicer if the temperature was above freezing, if I could walk more than 50 yards without coughing up sputem and if the dog didn't try to eat every piece of trash she finds (and there's plenty)

But who am I to complain, ambulatory, free of responsibility and ready to bask in the sunshine.

Read this yesterday on a Chuck Norris site...

"Chuck Norris' tears can cure cancer.... it's such a shame he's never cried"

It made me laugh

Ouch, really

Quick run the hospital yesterday turned into a four hour visit... lots of aimless waiting punctuated by fresh fresh faces and big needles.

The fresh faces were Maureen - a lovely looking lady who will be my nurse throughout all of this and Trish, an efficient looking woman who will monitor my progress throughout.

The big needle - well that came when they took the bone marrow sample. Procedure? Gown on... position prone... ass there for all to see... much pushing of hip bone and spine.... 6 'dentist like' injections of anaesthesia each preceeded by the phrase 'a pinch and a little burn'... a warning that anaesthetic can't permeate bone and to expect 'discomfort not pain'... some modest bonely scratching... pressure... discomfort.... 'deep breath'... cold sweat... agony.... muttered swearing... another breath (less deep)... more sweat... done... pressure bandage... 20 mins of pressure on it and home.... worse for young men than their older or differently chromosomed bretheren by all accounts.

Youch

Still I advance further up the 'pain threshold' chart - meaning that I can look forward to more unmedicated agonies in the near future. Hurrah.

Ba Da Ba da - Baaaa-da-da-daaah

So the countdown to treatment begins. I'm racing to get everything ready to go for a January 13th chemo start date.

That means getting my slides back from pathology, getting insurance clearance for PET and CT scans and considering (again) sperm banking - though at $650 per shot and $500 a year 'storage' I'm thinking of making 'popsicles' of my own, perhaps in the shape of Xmas trees.

It's looking like I'll be doing six rounds R-CHOP with Velcade - one Friday every three weeks; tests in between and possible radiotherapy at the back end. All done in time for summer holidays.

Though the thought of me on a beach bald, moon faced from the prednisone and suffering 'roid rage may not be great.

Anyway lots and lots to sort out... I'll go do it. Good to be back at work though.

toof arse-end n six

Happy New Year all

Here's hoping that 2006 is a better year than the one it replaced. Here's to fewer freak storms, disasters, wars, epidemics and needless death and to more stability, compassion and genuinely positive action.

On a personal note 2005 wan't our best year - it started well as we settled in Brooklyn, work got better, Jude's PhD was flying then bam - her dad gets cancer and things start to spin some. He gets sick, then sicker and in September he dies.

Around the same time I start to cough, am diagnosed with cancer and am awaiting treatment as I type (I'm coughing too, in a weird hunched position that I've convinced myself will minimize the chance of hernia)

Yet weirdly 2005 wasn't that sad or depressing a year. Friends did what friends should, family fretted and time marched on; we coped and carried on with the day to day routines that life demands. The cliche is that it's all about the people in your life - I'm starting to get it. The people around you are your life... get the right people and they're what make it rich and interesting and challenging and all of the things that you want it to be; get them wrong and you're being taken up a back alley by an anonymous John in a bid to get enough cash together for your next burger. Or worse - you live a passionless life.

Enough of this though. Happy New Year all.