I threw up a whole lot of nothing yesterday morning before heading off to the hospital for blood tests and round #4 of radiation. Radiation sickness is pretty different from chemo nausea – not as bad really. I feel OK today.
After weeks of amateur repainting of my tattoos by just about everyone from a few aspiring Modrians to mostly wannabe Pollocks, the Chinese whispers had caused a drift in my markings of several centimeters in seemingly random directions. This didn’t go unnoticed by the professionals and they had to start from scratch by taking more chest x-rays and realigning me with my original CT.
The subsequent over-painting left my torso a messy mass of religious and runic symbols:
Mark thinks that they’re not really giving me any radiation, but just painting crosses on my body and hoping that will work.
I get my blood results back on Monday along with more radiation and have a sonogram on Thursday of my gall stones and then again more radiation.
The Russian invasion of my intended beach vacation and my ongoing visa limbo has left September’s travel plans unclear to say the least. We’re now thinking Bulgaria. I’m going to have to bring some stronger pressure to bear on my visa situation if I ever hope to get out of the country alive (pun intended). Jon gets back from Germany tomorrow morning with news from beyond the paper curtain.