A blog that started as an info site to help people keep up with my cancer treatments and has morphed...
Sunday, February 05, 2006
This was me
This was me at 10am - scalp itching, hair falling out faster than Leena Zavoroni's during a trip to Chernobyl
Hairless
Woke up yesterday morning with what felt like a sunburnt head. Touch it and 'youch'. Most odd, thought I, my head seems to be on fire and my pillow seems to resemble Captain Caveman (or perhaps Fatima Whitbred) - how can this be?
It turns out of course that the doctors were right, that it takes about two weeks for your hair to start falling out and that I am going to be bald here.
In truth the hair loss is quite comforting. I've felt so well during all of this that you do start to secretly suspect that perhaps you're uniquely immune to the drugs, or part of a placebo study or something similar. Evidence that this stuff is doing what it's supposed to do is very welcome - and the prospect of getting to shave my head is making Judith monsterously excited.
That's about it. After doing full days at work Thurs / Friday plus a couple of decent walks and stuff with the dog yesterday was a write off - an 18 hrs of sleep day. Much brighter this morning however and ready to take on the world
It turns out of course that the doctors were right, that it takes about two weeks for your hair to start falling out and that I am going to be bald here.
In truth the hair loss is quite comforting. I've felt so well during all of this that you do start to secretly suspect that perhaps you're uniquely immune to the drugs, or part of a placebo study or something similar. Evidence that this stuff is doing what it's supposed to do is very welcome - and the prospect of getting to shave my head is making Judith monsterously excited.
That's about it. After doing full days at work Thurs / Friday plus a couple of decent walks and stuff with the dog yesterday was a write off - an 18 hrs of sleep day. Much brighter this morning however and ready to take on the world
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Crash
Watched 'Crash' on DVD yesterday. I''d seen it in the theatre, but Jude hadn't and so we ploughed our way through just under two hours of inhumanity, despair and general teeth grinding. It's all very well done of course, even Sandra Bullock manages to avoid any obvious pratfalls (didn't YOU expect her to play her fall down stairs for a cheap physical laugh?) but the whole thing ended up leaving me cold.
In fact my one take away thought was that the puppets of Avenue Q managed to get across pretty much the same message, in a fraction of the time and a much more entertaining way with their song 'Everyone's a little bit racist'
Maybe I am horribly shallow. Maybe I'm sociopathic. But I just can't find it in my heart to feel very much during movies that ought to be affecting. Brokeback Mountain, ho-hum. Love Story, whatever. Titanic, is it over yet?
Of course when they turn this Blog into a major motion picture Dakota will capture all of this - capturing both my Mercahnt-Ivory British reserve and madame Tussards like waxiness.
Ok, ok... cancer.
When my doctor first told me I had cancer I wanted to ask (regarding survival chances) - is it worth my starting to watch the new season of American Idol (the season lasts about 4 months)... I didn't ask but January is here and I am watching, almost despite myself.
Of course Idol has nothing on TV's best show 'Project Runway' - in which fashion designers compete in various challenges, one being eliminated each week. To date this season has brought us the classic lines
"Where the HELL is my chiffon?"
and
"Oh my God, it's a mother-f*king walk-off"
Last night the task was to make runway ready dresses using $100 worth of flowers. The remaining contestants (four gay men, one of whom is about 7 ft tall and balding fast, a chinese midget and a South African bird with no fashion sense and a surplus of testosterone) sewed up a frenzy before sending some very uncomfortable models down the runway. Michael Kors managed to comment
'It looks like the kind of dress that the town slut would wear to prom, if her mother was a bad home sew-er"
Ah, it's good to be alive.
In fact my one take away thought was that the puppets of Avenue Q managed to get across pretty much the same message, in a fraction of the time and a much more entertaining way with their song 'Everyone's a little bit racist'
Maybe I am horribly shallow. Maybe I'm sociopathic. But I just can't find it in my heart to feel very much during movies that ought to be affecting. Brokeback Mountain, ho-hum. Love Story, whatever. Titanic, is it over yet?
Of course when they turn this Blog into a major motion picture Dakota will capture all of this - capturing both my Mercahnt-Ivory British reserve and madame Tussards like waxiness.
Ok, ok... cancer.
When my doctor first told me I had cancer I wanted to ask (regarding survival chances) - is it worth my starting to watch the new season of American Idol (the season lasts about 4 months)... I didn't ask but January is here and I am watching, almost despite myself.
Of course Idol has nothing on TV's best show 'Project Runway' - in which fashion designers compete in various challenges, one being eliminated each week. To date this season has brought us the classic lines
"Where the HELL is my chiffon?"
and
"Oh my God, it's a mother-f*king walk-off"
Last night the task was to make runway ready dresses using $100 worth of flowers. The remaining contestants (four gay men, one of whom is about 7 ft tall and balding fast, a chinese midget and a South African bird with no fashion sense and a surplus of testosterone) sewed up a frenzy before sending some very uncomfortable models down the runway. Michael Kors managed to comment
'It looks like the kind of dress that the town slut would wear to prom, if her mother was a bad home sew-er"
Ah, it's good to be alive.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Alles Gut
Went to have my blood work done yesterday.
Fast appointment - and all is good.
White cells, red cells platelettes - all where they should be.
Next five treatments should be easier, though first wasn't really hard and I do expect a backlash at some point - karma baby
But seems that I'm doing pretty darned well
Hurrah!
Steve
Fast appointment - and all is good.
White cells, red cells platelettes - all where they should be.
Next five treatments should be easier, though first wasn't really hard and I do expect a backlash at some point - karma baby
But seems that I'm doing pretty darned well
Hurrah!
Steve
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
It moves
So after a weekend spent clutching my back and making vague moaning sounds I started the week free of back pain and devoid of energy. Slept about 14 hrs yesterday - and spent the rest trying not to fall asleep. Weird.
This morning however I feel much better. The dog has been walked, the repair people hassled and I'm ready to hit the shower before hitting the hospital... it's my 10 (well eleven, scheduling issues) day check up - the day where everything should be at its lowest - white cells, red cells, platelettes.
Anyway good to be back in the land of the living.
This morning however I feel much better. The dog has been walked, the repair people hassled and I'm ready to hit the shower before hitting the hospital... it's my 10 (well eleven, scheduling issues) day check up - the day where everything should be at its lowest - white cells, red cells, platelettes.
Anyway good to be back in the land of the living.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
'arold!
No coughing today - which is miraculous.
Managed to get out and about quite a bit and to move with phlegmatic impunity until the early afternoon when my back started to ache like a rotten tooth in a Robin Williams movie. It's agony and my immediately turning into Albert Steptoe has done nothing to help matters.
Other stuff.
Bought a vacuum cleaner with a 7 year warranty - there's optimism! - it's Italian - there's more
Started to resent unfit looking smokers - bastards, who gave you the good genes?
My brother announced / admitted that he's about to become a dad - in 7 weeks. It's a girl
Walked through the Polish part of town - marvelling at how only in NYC can you go from hip to hip replacement in 3 blocks
Fell in love with Newborns at Ralph Lauren - making me the gayest straight man in the world (but c'mon cashmeer kimonos)
Took a pic in which I looked terrible - then posted it anyway in a 'see I AM sick' statement
Managed to get out and about quite a bit and to move with phlegmatic impunity until the early afternoon when my back started to ache like a rotten tooth in a Robin Williams movie. It's agony and my immediately turning into Albert Steptoe has done nothing to help matters.
Other stuff.
Bought a vacuum cleaner with a 7 year warranty - there's optimism! - it's Italian - there's more
Started to resent unfit looking smokers - bastards, who gave you the good genes?
My brother announced / admitted that he's about to become a dad - in 7 weeks. It's a girl
Walked through the Polish part of town - marvelling at how only in NYC can you go from hip to hip replacement in 3 blocks
Fell in love with Newborns at Ralph Lauren - making me the gayest straight man in the world (but c'mon cashmeer kimonos)
Took a pic in which I looked terrible - then posted it anyway in a 'see I AM sick' statement
Friday, January 27, 2006
Geo-targeted
If you talk to Matthew George - a very nice, bright man who I maintain is proof that John Denver and Kermit got very friendly during the making of the Muppet's Xmas album - he'll tell you all about Geo-targeting.
The idea is that media is getting smarter... that when people know what you're watching, or reading they'll now what ads to show you. In a geo-targeted world you'd get an ad for Kleenex just as they were telling you that you're favorite aunt had swallowed that ring you'd always wanted just before she died.
It's a simple idea. You get targeted with ads just at the right moment. The Internet should be great at this, but isn't. It will be.
Of course there are better ways to Geo-target. I've never understood why Kleenex for example haven't published the 100 greatest tear-jerkers as a range, inserting a tissue during every 'weepy' passage. The 'jerkers' idea could be extended too - I'd love to see the '100 sexiest' with tissues inserted for entirely different fluids too.
But I digress.
The people at the hospital told me that my biggest enemy would be constipation. Really? thought I before being regaled with stories of liver toxicity and all manner of things what could block me up bad. I was handed revolting drugs. Generic stool softeners, spasm inducing laxatives - and like a fool I took them.
Yesterday therefore was a just stomach spasm after stomach spasm. It was nasty, lots of bending double and cursing of the people who make 'senna X' or whatever.
And of course every spasm triggered the same ad' - a librarian suddenly doubles over with pain, her book trolley shoots off at comedic speed, it hits a bookcase, a domino effect is seen, library crashes down, 'bad day' is had, 'none spasm inducing laxatives' are recommended as a solution to both spasms and the decaying library system.
Damn if I'd only taken 'Senna XY'
If this is the future you can keep it - Tom Cruise's Minority Report future seemed sexier than this, but it's all the same.
Really, I don't want to be targeted, I want to watch Grey's Anatomy.
Is that too much to ask?
The idea is that media is getting smarter... that when people know what you're watching, or reading they'll now what ads to show you. In a geo-targeted world you'd get an ad for Kleenex just as they were telling you that you're favorite aunt had swallowed that ring you'd always wanted just before she died.
It's a simple idea. You get targeted with ads just at the right moment. The Internet should be great at this, but isn't. It will be.
Of course there are better ways to Geo-target. I've never understood why Kleenex for example haven't published the 100 greatest tear-jerkers as a range, inserting a tissue during every 'weepy' passage. The 'jerkers' idea could be extended too - I'd love to see the '100 sexiest' with tissues inserted for entirely different fluids too.
But I digress.
The people at the hospital told me that my biggest enemy would be constipation. Really? thought I before being regaled with stories of liver toxicity and all manner of things what could block me up bad. I was handed revolting drugs. Generic stool softeners, spasm inducing laxatives - and like a fool I took them.
Yesterday therefore was a just stomach spasm after stomach spasm. It was nasty, lots of bending double and cursing of the people who make 'senna X' or whatever.
And of course every spasm triggered the same ad' - a librarian suddenly doubles over with pain, her book trolley shoots off at comedic speed, it hits a bookcase, a domino effect is seen, library crashes down, 'bad day' is had, 'none spasm inducing laxatives' are recommended as a solution to both spasms and the decaying library system.
Damn if I'd only taken 'Senna XY'
If this is the future you can keep it - Tom Cruise's Minority Report future seemed sexier than this, but it's all the same.
Really, I don't want to be targeted, I want to watch Grey's Anatomy.
Is that too much to ask?
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
First day wothout drugs
Day whatever past first treatment and no drugs at all. Wah-hey.
Mind yesterday may have been a drug infused hallucination... a dog with its head stuck at the dog run, men with crow-bars, Japanese women buying jeans from what looked like someone's living room, a small dog that appeared in ours and 'the hulk's sister' on American Idol.. all just a little stranger than usual.
That said I'm drug free and ready for work - let's see how this day plays out
Steve
Mind yesterday may have been a drug infused hallucination... a dog with its head stuck at the dog run, men with crow-bars, Japanese women buying jeans from what looked like someone's living room, a small dog that appeared in ours and 'the hulk's sister' on American Idol.. all just a little stranger than usual.
That said I'm drug free and ready for work - let's see how this day plays out
Steve
Monday, January 23, 2006
A tale of three coughs
Chemo +3 today and I'm up early and ready to head in and get my white blood cell boosting shot of 'as seen on TV' Neurestra (?)
Last three days have been the tale of three coughs. Saturday my tight cough of 4 months became a deep, chesty. booming thing that had me coughing up old wounds, bits of body and (for an hour over brunch) rather a lot of blood.
Day two was less bellowing - but no return to the love lorn seal bark of yore. Lots of nasty thick phlegm yesterday.
And today, much better. What a restaurant might describe as a 'stunningly light cappucino foam' - certainly the lighest cough (and the lightest 'product' of that cough) in months and months.
Of course by way of recompense (the universe demands payment after all) I woke up singing the Boyzone version of the Cat Stevens song 'Father and Son' - at 7am!
Not the most pleasant of posts I admit - but feeling sparkly good here today, let's see how long I can keep this going
Last three days have been the tale of three coughs. Saturday my tight cough of 4 months became a deep, chesty. booming thing that had me coughing up old wounds, bits of body and (for an hour over brunch) rather a lot of blood.
Day two was less bellowing - but no return to the love lorn seal bark of yore. Lots of nasty thick phlegm yesterday.
And today, much better. What a restaurant might describe as a 'stunningly light cappucino foam' - certainly the lighest cough (and the lightest 'product' of that cough) in months and months.
Of course by way of recompense (the universe demands payment after all) I woke up singing the Boyzone version of the Cat Stevens song 'Father and Son' - at 7am!
Not the most pleasant of posts I admit - but feeling sparkly good here today, let's see how long I can keep this going
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Chemo +1
Well yesterday was long - but not unpleasant.
Everything went pretty much to schedule and to plan... I needed a break from the Rituxin at 100ml / hr, but a benedril shot fixed that and the rest of the infusion passed without incident and I got up to 300ml / hr without incident.
Had an M&M meets injection of orange goop vomitting spell toward the end of the day... never has vomit so closely related ad' - a whilrl, swirly, chocolate kaleidoscope of color.
Everything else was unremarkable.
Got home last night, slept well, took all the drugs suggested and feel good today... slightly strange, but by no means sick. Have walked the dog, picked up more drugs and checked football scores, brunch later... of course next couple of days will be the real test of how things are really going; worst comes at 3-5 days I'm told.
We shall see
Steve
Everything went pretty much to schedule and to plan... I needed a break from the Rituxin at 100ml / hr, but a benedril shot fixed that and the rest of the infusion passed without incident and I got up to 300ml / hr without incident.
Had an M&M meets injection of orange goop vomitting spell toward the end of the day... never has vomit so closely related ad' - a whilrl, swirly, chocolate kaleidoscope of color.
Everything else was unremarkable.
Got home last night, slept well, took all the drugs suggested and feel good today... slightly strange, but by no means sick. Have walked the dog, picked up more drugs and checked football scores, brunch later... of course next couple of days will be the real test of how things are really going; worst comes at 3-5 days I'm told.
We shall see
Steve
Friday, January 20, 2006
Chemo day!
Looking at a long old day today. Standard chemo takes about an hour to administer... but the R part of CHOP R takes 5 hrs the first time.. infusion reactins are common and the slower they go the less likely I am to become a shivering wreck. Add in blood work and the all important Insurance Checks and you're looking at a 10 hr day.
Have loaded up the i-pod (Cyndi Lauper - The Body Acoustic). the DVD player (Deadwood Series One) and have my taking forever to read Roddy Doyle book with me (the one where the Irish guy comes to New York in the 20s) so I'm as ready as I think I can be... and looking forward to actually starting treatment.
September seems a long time ago - but that's when the cough started and when I had the first x-ray. Starting today means being finished end of July (and end of World Cup) meaning that I can start in the gym ahead of a September beach holiday. OK, maybe October (we'll head south) - besides September is the US Open and perfect, perfect weather.
Time to head off...
Have loaded up the i-pod (Cyndi Lauper - The Body Acoustic). the DVD player (Deadwood Series One) and have my taking forever to read Roddy Doyle book with me (the one where the Irish guy comes to New York in the 20s) so I'm as ready as I think I can be... and looking forward to actually starting treatment.
September seems a long time ago - but that's when the cough started and when I had the first x-ray. Starting today means being finished end of July (and end of World Cup) meaning that I can start in the gym ahead of a September beach holiday. OK, maybe October (we'll head south) - besides September is the US Open and perfect, perfect weather.
Time to head off...
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
What Fresh hell is this?
So yesterday I had my first PET scan. Turn up a at the hospital, get injected with radioactive sugar, lay immobile for an hour as 'any movement, even turning the pages of a book could send the sugar to the muscles rather than the organs" and then wander through to get into another whirling donut machine.
'Do not move' warns Dr.24 year old. "No moving". He then proceeds to position me until I'm as uncomfortable as possible all the while muttering "must be still, still, still"
Finally I'm ready, he flips on the machine, gives me one more 'do not move' and turns to leave, flicking on the radio as he goes, arrrghhh. The radio is tuned to 'hip sway' FM... it's playing all the Latin music you know and all of music that drags the Latino out of you... and you can't move. At all.
40 minutes later the beat is now frenzied; I'm still, my arms are starting to go into a 'world's strongest man' shake and I'm pretending to to Finnish (anyone else used to love Janne Virtanen?) in a bid to both hold them still and resist the beat.
Machine chugs, splutters and spits me out and I'm free to leave. I try to capture the 'sense memories' so that I can help Dakota later but have visions of Sandra Bullock and give up. We'll shove Dakota in the machine... that oughta do it.
CAT Scan Thursday (hmmm, Barium) - will call and try to schedule chemo today; hoping for this Friday
'Do not move' warns Dr.24 year old. "No moving". He then proceeds to position me until I'm as uncomfortable as possible all the while muttering "must be still, still, still"
Finally I'm ready, he flips on the machine, gives me one more 'do not move' and turns to leave, flicking on the radio as he goes, arrrghhh. The radio is tuned to 'hip sway' FM... it's playing all the Latin music you know and all of music that drags the Latino out of you... and you can't move. At all.
40 minutes later the beat is now frenzied; I'm still, my arms are starting to go into a 'world's strongest man' shake and I'm pretending to to Finnish (anyone else used to love Janne Virtanen?) in a bid to both hold them still and resist the beat.
Machine chugs, splutters and spits me out and I'm free to leave. I try to capture the 'sense memories' so that I can help Dakota later but have visions of Sandra Bullock and give up. We'll shove Dakota in the machine... that oughta do it.
CAT Scan Thursday (hmmm, Barium) - will call and try to schedule chemo today; hoping for this Friday
Monday, January 16, 2006
A partner in crime?
Just heard that one of the guys I used to work with (my favorite Australian Darren) has just been admitted to hospital with Acute Myeloid Leukaemia... not the same disease as I have I know but close enough a cousin to make marriage a questionable option.
Hoping to trade tales of disappearing hairlines, stool softners, infusion reactions and survival with him very soon.
Hoping to trade tales of disappearing hairlines, stool softners, infusion reactions and survival with him very soon.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Action stations
All go this morning... as of an hour ago I have a PET scan Tuesday, a CAT scan Thurs and my first Chemo session pencilledin for Friday.
It may seem strange but I'm actually looking forward to the chemo... people keep asking about fear, trepidation, apprehension and I have to keep telling them "erm, no". This of course adds to the current 'brave face' therory.. the theory that I'm showing a sunny side to the world whilst crumbling within. Alas not (I should be so Judy Garland). Truth is I'm done with the coughing, the wheezing, the pulling of muscles as I gasp for air, the occasional day spent spitting blood into mounting piles of tissue - it's time to put this thing to bed and chemo is the way to do that.
So I've picked out the Chemo DVD series ('Deadwood : Season One'); loaded up the i-pod and am ready to go with this thing. Genuine, positive anticipation.
Still talking to various sperm banks. Well to two of them actually. There's a 30% chance that the chemo will make me infertile. Sperm banking is recommended but then at $650 a 'pop', a minimum of three 'pops' and 'storage rental charges' it all adds up and I'm left thinking - do I want kids more than I do a new sofa?
My instinct is to take my chances - if I can't have kids after this then so be it; we're hardly in the first flush of youth anyway. And besides I've always secretly wanted to adopt a Vietnamese piano prodigy who'd look like Maddox Jolie aqnd play like... erm... well... a really good piano player.
Cool idea of the week comes from Men's Health - a wallet sized card that has my blood type, meds taken, allergies, medical insurance and contact details on it. Everyone should carry one - if you get hit by a car it'll help the ambulance guys.
Premonition time... I see myself in week 17 of treatment. Bald, moon faced and with steroid induced anger management issues; about to be given the all clear and heading home via the subway when somene bumps me; the steroids kick in; I give my best Travis Bickle; he takes offence and beats me to death there and then. Don't know why that scenario keeps coming into my (admittedly over-medicated) head but it does. Needless to say I shall be avoiding subways.
Last bit... woke up last night with an idea for my ashes that I want to get down before I forget it. When Velcro was a puppy and we lived in upstate New York I used to walk her in Bowdoin Park. She loved it and so did I. Even when she tugged so hard she sent me rolling down the steepest of hills towards a duck pond. That hill was nearly the death of me... and should I fall victim to subway rage attackers, stray ambulance or chemo infusion reaction then I think it's as good a place as any for my ashes; just make sure that the dog doesn't eat / roll in them... that may cause the most tragic grooming of all time as jude tries to get bits of me out from between the dog's toes.
Okay - too long a posting... time for some Dr Phil.
It may seem strange but I'm actually looking forward to the chemo... people keep asking about fear, trepidation, apprehension and I have to keep telling them "erm, no". This of course adds to the current 'brave face' therory.. the theory that I'm showing a sunny side to the world whilst crumbling within. Alas not (I should be so Judy Garland). Truth is I'm done with the coughing, the wheezing, the pulling of muscles as I gasp for air, the occasional day spent spitting blood into mounting piles of tissue - it's time to put this thing to bed and chemo is the way to do that.
So I've picked out the Chemo DVD series ('Deadwood : Season One'); loaded up the i-pod and am ready to go with this thing. Genuine, positive anticipation.
Still talking to various sperm banks. Well to two of them actually. There's a 30% chance that the chemo will make me infertile. Sperm banking is recommended but then at $650 a 'pop', a minimum of three 'pops' and 'storage rental charges' it all adds up and I'm left thinking - do I want kids more than I do a new sofa?
My instinct is to take my chances - if I can't have kids after this then so be it; we're hardly in the first flush of youth anyway. And besides I've always secretly wanted to adopt a Vietnamese piano prodigy who'd look like Maddox Jolie aqnd play like... erm... well... a really good piano player.
Cool idea of the week comes from Men's Health - a wallet sized card that has my blood type, meds taken, allergies, medical insurance and contact details on it. Everyone should carry one - if you get hit by a car it'll help the ambulance guys.
Premonition time... I see myself in week 17 of treatment. Bald, moon faced and with steroid induced anger management issues; about to be given the all clear and heading home via the subway when somene bumps me; the steroids kick in; I give my best Travis Bickle; he takes offence and beats me to death there and then. Don't know why that scenario keeps coming into my (admittedly over-medicated) head but it does. Needless to say I shall be avoiding subways.
Last bit... woke up last night with an idea for my ashes that I want to get down before I forget it. When Velcro was a puppy and we lived in upstate New York I used to walk her in Bowdoin Park. She loved it and so did I. Even when she tugged so hard she sent me rolling down the steepest of hills towards a duck pond. That hill was nearly the death of me... and should I fall victim to subway rage attackers, stray ambulance or chemo infusion reaction then I think it's as good a place as any for my ashes; just make sure that the dog doesn't eat / roll in them... that may cause the most tragic grooming of all time as jude tries to get bits of me out from between the dog's toes.
Okay - too long a posting... time for some Dr Phil.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
ahem-hem, cough splutter
Well carried little bits of my body from Long Island to Manhatten yesterday. Alas it wasn't in a bid to get on an revamped SwapShop, but it was an attempt to get this treatment started.
I still need Insurance clearance for a CAT scan and for a PET scan, then an appointment to have both done and the results before I can start. Looks like the 13th is a vain hope and the 27th is starting to pop up as a date... not one I LIKE but one I understand.
Chasing all I can but Doris Day was right - whatever will be, will be.
Meanwhile I alternate between miaculously healthy and coughing wreck (the latter usually after food and too much exercise)
About to chase insurance again
More when I know more...
I still need Insurance clearance for a CAT scan and for a PET scan, then an appointment to have both done and the results before I can start. Looks like the 13th is a vain hope and the 27th is starting to pop up as a date... not one I LIKE but one I understand.
Chasing all I can but Doris Day was right - whatever will be, will be.
Meanwhile I alternate between miaculously healthy and coughing wreck (the latter usually after food and too much exercise)
About to chase insurance again
More when I know more...
Saturday, January 07, 2006
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
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
Thursday, January 05, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Lesson learned
Today's lesson - when you don't update your CANCER blog for almost a week people start to wonder whether you're dead.
I'm not (obviously) but , as my mother in law might say "who was to know that,huh?"
Not much happening here it being Xmas and all but I do have a diagnosis - Large B Cell Mediastinal Lymphoma - and an appointment to see the Cornell guyts January 3rd.
From there I should start CHOP-R chemo followed by radiotherapy. The Prednisone is likely to turn me into a cherub faced fatty with anger management issues (by all accounts). Great - lots of scenes reminiscent of the one when Christoper Biggins lost the part of Widow Twanky to John Inman... with me as Biggins!
Anyway a short post today - home alone and want to maximize the time I spend watching LOST and minimize time spent on everything else.
I'm not (obviously) but , as my mother in law might say "who was to know that,huh?"
Not much happening here it being Xmas and all but I do have a diagnosis - Large B Cell Mediastinal Lymphoma - and an appointment to see the Cornell guyts January 3rd.
From there I should start CHOP-R chemo followed by radiotherapy. The Prednisone is likely to turn me into a cherub faced fatty with anger management issues (by all accounts). Great - lots of scenes reminiscent of the one when Christoper Biggins lost the part of Widow Twanky to John Inman... with me as Biggins!
Anyway a short post today - home alone and want to maximize the time I spend watching LOST and minimize time spent on everything else.
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