I should clarify.
I don’t have the fake eye yet. It’s probably about two weeks away.
Oh yeah – the hair. It’s going. Starting last friday, every time I run my hand through my hair it comes out with a tangled thicket thick enough to house a family of rabbits. I’ll probably cut it short tomorrow. For my plumbing’s sake.
Other than that – doing fine.
Thanks for the thoughts and prayers,
peace, love,
d
March 3, 2008 at 10:19 pm |
It’s interesting how this disease (and I imangine many others as well) makes us focus on the really important things. Sounds trite, but it’s the best I can do. Words don’t really cover it, do they? It’s supposed to snow tonight–I’m looking forward to it. Take care
March 4, 2008 at 1:40 am |
Hey Tess,
You said in one phrase what I’ve taken 14+ pages to say. I was in a unique position of having my disease start with the loss of an eye, while working at teaching people to see. The connections and lessons and bad puns just keep coming. Writing about it has helped on a lot of levels. I know you’re a Words person. Blogging’s easy. Check out wordpress.com
love, strength, gin,
d
March 7, 2008 at 7:17 pm |
Hey Dave,
Was that a short hair cut or a classic Euro shaved noggin? I told Tess that I wish I could go with you to the Barber for support. I see in the future a barber will shave my noggin. Today I’m going to have a CET scan so they will have a base to work with. I do love the beverage they give you an hour before the actual laying down on a cold plastic table that moves you back and forth through the center of a donut so you can practice holding your breathe.
I’m fighting the fight with possive thoughts and Tess helps alot.
cancer sucks,
Hoot
March 8, 2008 at 9:43 pm |
Hey Hoot,
Thanks for the note. At the moment I’ve got just a reeeel short hair cut because M wasn’t quite ready for the full shave. I’m ready for the shave. Unfortunately, to be Euro-hip bald, one needs a goatee. I don’t think that’s gonna happen here.
I’ve read your blog. It’s interesting the different routes you and I are taking. I’m just doing heavy chemo now; the same pills as you and then every three weeks some intravenous cocktail of foxyoxen or bufukin or something. I’ve had my second round. My blood tests are coming back strong so I’ll be continuing this regimen for probably 6 rounds. Then perhaps the radiation and surgery. The first round had me feeling kinda shitty for a few days but no missed work. The second round had me feeling really shitty for a few more days, but still no missed work because I’m stupid like that. I hope it doesn’t keep getting progressively nastier. Get used to drinking only room-temp and warmer liquids. No cold beer, just martinis, and red wine. No more going barefoot or going out without gloves. The reaction to the cold is weird and painful.
But you know, life is good. Putting up with this shit helps remind me of that. It’s all good and all worth it.
Peace, love, but give it hell,
David
March 10, 2008 at 4:00 pm |
I love the bufukin reference. Made me laugh. Hoot said he was going to ask the doctor when he can start driving again. I replied that while he was at it he should ask when I can start slapping him around again. Sometimes I really miss the small pleasures.
Peace, Love, and Cosmopolitans (on the dry side, if you please) Oh, and Welbutrin, too. I discovered over the weekend that Cassis over ice with a little sparkling water is really quite delicious.
March 10, 2008 at 4:06 pm |
I forgot to mention that last night I sat on the patio and I could hear frogs singing (there is a creek near us). I never really sat and listened to frogs before. It was lovely.
March 12, 2008 at 10:37 pm |
Frog song can be awesome. Especially if you are near a pond or lake where there are several different species going at once. Bird songs are individually beautiful, but they are obviously individual singers, each singing the same short song over and over. When you get a bunch of different frogs going at the same time they overlap into a textured, deep, endless, beginning-less chant, almost Philip Glass-like.