Next up

I should qualify the last Benadryl-fueled post, by explaining that a) its not completely over - still got six weeks of radiation to go and b) I had hoped to go for big laughs by including a file with the actual sweet voice of Roy Orbison singing the words "It's over..." but this was beyond this blog's (and this blogger's) technical limitations.

Anyhoo, yesterday was amost (dare I say it) fun. My bloodwork is within degrees of normal, weight stable, blood pressure a little high, Oxygen 100%, pulse 75. Which is all good. We took cookies in for the nurses and it was hugs all round as I left. I'll miss those guys. We then went out for a celebration lunch at Evoe where Kevin obliged us with the most delicious salads and omelettes.

For the record the Benadryl + steroids + wine combination does not make for an easy night of sleep.

Apparently I'll be phoning Dr. Bader next week to determine the next order of events: port removal, radiation and the like.

And so.....

In the words of Roy Orbison.......it's over.

Errr......

I just emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a white towel and my husband told me (while laughing) that I look like one of those pedigree cats that has no hair. Sigh.

Last chemo today. Thank God.

Serious Observations

Some conversations with my friend and colleague, Mark, led me to conclude the following (and I can change my mind at any time, by the way):

::When thrust into this situation, I don't think you need to relate to your surgeon. He may be as mad as a snake but as long as he's not a complete a-hole it doesn't matter. You're not going to need much in the way of bed-side manner at this stage since you're going to be asleep for the longest stretch of your relationship with him. You just need to be in agreement on a course of action, and for him to be a precision cutter with a meticulous eye for detail.

::You do need to relate to your oncologist. You're going to see him a lot, and during some very difficult times. More importantly, you need to relate to the oncologist's nurses. At the end of the day, you will be sharing the more personal (gross) details of your side effects with them. And, in general, they have had more intimate experience with more cancer patients for longer than anyone.

::This is a deeply personal experience. Although many people continue to volunteer tips and stories about their's (e.g., the drunk lady at the opening of the new Ann Sacks showroom last week whose eyelashes fell out and grew back twice, apparently), no one has had the same as mine. I guess it's the same with the disease itself - no two cancers are alike.

I shall opine about radiologists some time in the next few weeks when I might know what I'm talking about.

Armstrong's Endorsements

This blog in no way endorses the viewpoint of some of the advertising that may appear herein. In fact, the blogger would like to take this opportunity to endorse Jeff Merkley for US Senate. And, in fact, Obama for President. Also David Wu, Earl Blumenauer, Peter DeFazio, Kurt Schrader for US House of Representatives. And pretty much straight down Democrat party lines for everyone else. Thank you.

Safeway Redeemed

Last night Erika the checkout guy (yes, he's a guy named Erika) told me I look fabulous which was really nice because I know I look like a cancer patient, especially now my eyelashes are falling out.

Minor Observations

The magazines in the oncologist's office are, for the most part, good and current (OK, I did find a Sunset from December 07 the other day.) Presumably this is because people spend a lot of time there. Sometimes there are donuts and cookies. I'm guessing these are provided by grateful patients. I should probably take some tasty thank-you treats with me when I go in for the final session (which is, by the way, October 29th should anyone want to throw me a big party some time soon thereafter.)