Okay boys and girls we finally got some info about steps forward for your favorite soon-to-be cancer survivor. I know most of you have put your entire lives on hold pending info about me – and that’s how it should be frankly.
As my boss, Gwen Jones, will tell you, in the end it’s all about Bill.
Since my last update I went to the oncologist at the Helen F. Graham Center. It was actually kind of weird. The waiting area is an attempt at a soothing beige, with expensive faux cherry furniture and pretty comfortable chairs. The clickety – slam of security doors separating the waiting area from doctors and treatment facilities kind of ruin the ambience.
I for one would prefer a change in the decor from soothing to openly aggressive. I don’t know, a “Sgt. Rock” kind of doctor holding a big IV bag like it were an M-16 would inspire more confidence. I don’t want to negotiate with this lymphoma – I want to kick its ass. Some poster demonstrating resolve would be way better. Really openly hostile art is the way to go. Maybe in my next career I’ll become a cancer waiting room interior decorator.
Again let’s stay focused. It is about me after all.
Kate took me to the oncologist and they felt me up, probed me, took blood, and made me wear one of those God awful maroon hospital gowns (camouflage would be better). At one point the doctor gave Kate and I presentation using a lot of neighborhood and housing metaphors about non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and how the body’s different neighborhoods interact. I dug the info, but for a while wasn’t sure if I had to sell my house.
Here’s the deal. Apparently I’m gonna live. But it’s going to take a bit of oomph to do it. They have to map the inner me via a scan and a bone marrow thing. The scan will just play against my fidgety nature while the bone marrow thing requires them to drill into my hip to get some marrow goop to analyze. The scan will be early next week and bone marrow mess will be next Friday. Poop!
Because of my superb physical conditioning, and interplanetary heritage they have to send out for Kryptonite scalpels. Those should arrive just before the 20thwhen I have to some outpatient have surgery to get a “port” installed for the chemotherapy. After that it’s all blue skies -- a little chemo, a little puking, and a whole lot getting better.
Once I have the chemo going and such I will go back to work and make the lives of DOL folks better.
"Maybe in my next career I’ll become a cancer waiting room interior decorator." - I am thinking this is probably not a great idea - but I like the creativity...and "Again let’s stay focused. It is about me after all." - it is nice to know through all this you are still the Bill we know and love! Thinking about you every day - thanks for the efforts on the blog - it helps to keep up on what you are doing! Gary
ReplyDelete