Apparently my 11AM Monday radiation appointment was only ‘orientační’ or ballpark for 12:30PM, which is now my newly-established ballpark time – every Monday and Thursday until the 28th. The procedure itself is quick, painless and kinda weird if you think about it too much. I got a blister on my chest the day after my first treatment, but feel fine now after the second.
Tim and I got up yesterday morning just after six for a big day at the hospitals and went to see my oncologist shortly after the blood test. My platelets are up to 180! That’s at least 30 to spare and still be barely healthy! WBC steady at 3.2. The ‘official’ CT results are riddled with spelling mistakes in Czech and close to incomprehensible otherwise, but here goes:
I have four tumors, not three: two in the left pit nodes and two in the mediastinal lymph nodes – very near the lung, but not actually in the lung, after all. All four are ‘slightly’ shrunken when compared to the May 16th CT, according to the report’s conclusion. If you look at the actual numbers, however, or listen to my oncologist for that matter, the shrinkage is a bit more significant. Example: the largest tumor near the lung has gone from 38mm to 26mm in diameter.
I asked my oncologist, since all of my tumors are now purely lymphatic, if we could take her down to DEFCON 3, as it were, (or ‘orange alert’ for those of you who didn’t grow up during the cold war) from Stage 4 melanoma. She tapped her head (indicating my former baseball brain tumor) - “But, that’s been long gone since February!” I protested. She said that it really didn’t work that way :-(
They’re also a bit worried about my gall stones and will do a sonogram on the 21st. Between the morning sickness and the sonogram, I should give birth sometime in October – to an enlarged prostate.
We passed the time between appointments hanging out at Homolka and playing with a lucky, limber scarab who impressed us with his acrobatic feats of fancy:
Tim and I got up yesterday morning just after six for a big day at the hospitals and went to see my oncologist shortly after the blood test. My platelets are up to 180! That’s at least 30 to spare and still be barely healthy! WBC steady at 3.2. The ‘official’ CT results are riddled with spelling mistakes in Czech and close to incomprehensible otherwise, but here goes:
I have four tumors, not three: two in the left pit nodes and two in the mediastinal lymph nodes – very near the lung, but not actually in the lung, after all. All four are ‘slightly’ shrunken when compared to the May 16th CT, according to the report’s conclusion. If you look at the actual numbers, however, or listen to my oncologist for that matter, the shrinkage is a bit more significant. Example: the largest tumor near the lung has gone from 38mm to 26mm in diameter.
I asked my oncologist, since all of my tumors are now purely lymphatic, if we could take her down to DEFCON 3, as it were, (or ‘orange alert’ for those of you who didn’t grow up during the cold war) from Stage 4 melanoma. She tapped her head (indicating my former baseball brain tumor) - “But, that’s been long gone since February!” I protested. She said that it really didn’t work that way :-(
They’re also a bit worried about my gall stones and will do a sonogram on the 21st. Between the morning sickness and the sonogram, I should give birth sometime in October – to an enlarged prostate.
We passed the time between appointments hanging out at Homolka and playing with a lucky, limber scarab who impressed us with his acrobatic feats of fancy:
Then off to get zapped again. The lab assistant asked me:
“You’re the guy who took that mole off himself, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me, some hair and string, yeah...”
“That’s not a very good idea.”
“No, not really, no.”
She took this picture of me in the radiator:
We got up this morning to go to KV, only to find out that the buses were sold out until night time. Oh yeah, and my visa was rejected today - more on that (hopefully) in my next post. Stay tuned!
8 comments:
Love the last photo/action shot. Should be around this Sunday for a chatAnn
lookin good inthe zipedy doo machine mikey,
keep plateletting it up for georgia!!
j and j music factory
This machine loks like something that they used to make the six million dollar man:especially with your pecs sticking out.
(Is that a smile or a grimace you are making? Well, either way, it's a BRAVE face...)
Jon
Excellent news about the tumor not being in the lung! I guess you sensed that, and it's why you never really quit smoking. Right?
And NOW they refuse your visa? Bah! Lemmie attem!
Thanks for helping me keep my own trifling troubles in perspective this fortnight by being so... well... mike!
Sounds like good news, Mike! The machine looks scary, though -- very Star Trek. Shouldn't you be wearing goggles or something?
Lovely little scarab, however, and he contrasts nicely with your high-tech radiator.
Hang in there.
xxo
Xine
(Hi to Tim.)
Ever since Jung, scarabs are lucky. Symbolic, at the very least. You will soon be joining a circus!
SO, I am sending Incredible Shrinking Rays(TM) to the four tumours, turbo-production power (generic) to the platelets, and a drop-kick Sort It warning to the visa authorities. Meanwhile, we must recruit trainers for the new generation of message-bearing insects.
Chin up, sunshine. You're doing wonderfully.
Loads of love.
E xxx
I second Liz's scarab statements, - but let me ask, how long are we going to have to wait for the chernoshitze tit shot?
love, tim
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