Walking With a Lymph

"The long Drive home"  by  johnsdigitaldreams.com  is licensed under Creative Commons You know when you’re driving, and it’s a trip you’ve made dozens, even hundreds of times before? You’re heading home from college, or to see a relative, or a girlfriend. You know the drive so well, that you can kind of turn off and only use about 65% of your brain. You’re making great time. It’s a 5 ½ hour trip and the first 4 hours fly by. Then, for no reason other than the vagaries of the lonesome road, a switch flips, time comes to a halt, and the last 90 minutes of that all-too familiar drive become interminable. You know you’re still driving, and your brain tells you that you’re still making forward progress, but there is no discernible evidence to confirm it despite the filmstrip continuing to disappear behind you. That last bit of the drive to get you home takes for-fucking-ever. The destination is just ahead of you, but has never been further away. That’s the part of Cancer I’m i...

I should really be coming up with something snarky and irreverent to write, and I don't want to enumerate poultry, but I think I'll let this one stand on its own. ---------------------  From: HU , BEI MD  To: LEVINE, STEVEN MARK  Cc: HOLLIFIELD , WHITNEY S;  Sent: 1/24/2022 10:38:05 EST  Subject: General Message  Hi Mr. Levine, Just wanted to let you know the great news of your pet/ct which showed a complete metabolic remission. This is the best response we could hope for. We will still need to do 3 more cycles of the RCHOP. We can talk more about your pet/ct in detail at the visit tomorrow but wanted to let you know the good news in advance.  Best,  Bei Hu, MD

"my hairy ear"  by  prazz  is licensed under  CC BY-NC 2.0 When you have Cancer, all your hair falls out except for ear hair. Ear hair feeds off the Cancer. It grows stronger, more resilient. Ear hair will survive a nuclear apocalypse. Like a cockroach. Ear hair is the cockroach of hair. I also have a new symptom, Neuropathy. While that sounds like some sort of super-cool mind control ability, it’s really just tingly fingers, and I have it all the time. It’s what I imagine Peter Parker’s spidey-sense feels like, but instead of telling me when danger is imminent, it’s just fucking annoying. It also feels like my feet are falling asleep, which is helpful when the Prednisone keeps me awake - at least my feet are getting a good night’s sleep. Neuropathy is a known side-effect of Vincristine, one of my Chemo drugs. Dr. Hu told me that it usually pops up around the fourth or fifth treatment. Being the over-achiever that I am, mine kicked in after the third. There’s really...

It’s my own fault. I’d been getting cocky, telling anyone who asked how trouble-free my infusions had been, tempting both fate and the Gods of Chemo. My typical schedule on Chemo Day sends me to the Lab first where they draw blood and access my port. Then, I head upstairs to see Doctor Hu. She usually has the lab results before the end of our appointment. Lastly, it’s to one of two Infusion Centers where I make myself at home for the next 4 ½-hours. Yesterday, 10 nurses had called out sick, and the Lab was pretty backed up. (There are no phlebotomists at the Levine Cancer Institute. Only RN’s draw blood because of the number of patients with ports.) So, Doctor Hu could see some of the results, but not all before I headed to Infusion. We had already started my Chemo regimen when the Doctor called down to say that my phosphorus was low. Evidently, I had lost my glow. Now, because I am my father’s son, I immediately did some research to try and assess the culprit. I needed to know what vi...