Wednesday, 7 December 2011


I started this hat last night, and finished it this morning before I went to be molded and tattooed for radiation treatment. The hat tried to be a beret - and I got the flat circle calculations right but kakked out on figuring out the decreases and how big the flat circle had to be in order to achieve beret status. Therefore - voila! A cap. Tomato/Tomahto, right?

Point is, I actually do other things than whine, lump around not doing housework and complain on this blog. Even if they don't turn out quite the way I expect.

Leaping to the same old topic (I didn't say I wouldn't)....

The appointment with the radiation oncologist went well. He'd received my letter and spent a careful 30 or 40 minutes trying to make sure I understood my situation and treatment as thoroughly as possible, after explaining (a little pleadingly) that it was important that I knew just how weird and tricky neuroendocrine cancer is - how hard to predict. They are throwing everything they have at it, apparently. And he, for one, is pleased with the results, so far. And I got my answer - which is that anything is possible. It was that "anything" I needed to hear. A little sliver of possibility goes a long way when you're doing your best Ten of Swords impression and yet still trying to get the hell up and keep fighting.

Apparently, he isn't expecting the chest radiation to be too bad. It's localized, away from my spine and not too close to my throat. Still, I can expect extreme fatigue, burnt skin and maybe some nausea. But Goddess bless him - if I can manage on Gravol, he won't prescribe steroids. He pretty much promised I'd feel like warmed over dirt for a while - but he did say it with a fair amount of sympathy.

Then I get a month off. From roughly January 13th to February 13th, I get to not go to the hospital while my poor ravaged immune system tries to recover for - Tah Dah! Brain radiation for two weeks. Now here's where it gets a little scarier because I may be dropping an IQ point or two at the door. Not recoverable - much like the hearing in my left ear. I told him I was concerned about that and he replied, to my utter amazement, "I am too." He said it would be something only I would notice if it happened...just a little slower solving problems, thinking things out.While this isn't exactly good news, I appreciated his directness. It seems I can hear just about anything - as long as it's honest.

And the other thing I did besides whining about cancer was this bottle:

 Tomorrow, while Halifax enjoys another "weather bomb" of rain and high winds, I plan to pull ALL the stops out and clean the apartment.

But don't be surprised if I fit a little whining in, too.


Cynthia Newcomer Daniel said...

LOVE the hat and the bottle.

*Deep breath* on the brainpower hit. Part of me wants to be a smartass and remind you that at least you have extra and can spare a few, and part of me wants to grab you and ride out of town. Lucky for you I don't know how to get there.

I think.

gaping whole said...

I've read every spec of this blog, and I think of you every day. I've laughed and cried, I've been angry, and hopeful, and I'm glad you're getting the truth you deserve.

That said, dear L., you are one of the brightest people I know, and if your I.Q. drops a point or two, you'll still be well above the rest of us.

I love you, and am with you every step of the way.

Peregrine Beader said...

Love the bottle, the beret and that you got some answers. Oh, and your posts are never "whiney"!

Howpublic said...

Oh yes. I do whine. Wendy points out that I have good reason - but self-pity has never been very helpful or uplifting. Admitting to whining and trying my best to swear off is a self-administered kick in the ass - for medicinal purposes. Even if I don't succeed. But thank you all for hanging in.
And, umm..Cynthia - saddle up. I'm ready to go!

Cynthia Newcomer Daniel said...

Wonder where I can steal a horse?