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» I was going to title today's entry » Moving Back the Oncolytic Goal Posts .. for reasons that will become clear. But that would have been the whiny title, the sniveler's title. The pussy title. And nobody appreciates a whiny, sniveling pussy .. especially when it's a guy.
Killing the Incurable
Instead, today's title is .. well, you see it there .. which I will use as a springboard to discuss these oncologists » The Cancer Killers.
Is there a statistical correlation between kindness, compassion, empathy, and cancer? I have discussed this concept (and the possible theories for reasons behind it) with my shrink during our most recent weekly session.
My VOICE .. it has been a problem, off-n-on, for a week or so. The last time I saw the radiation oncologist, he said » "If your voice doesnt improve by the next time I see you, I am going to look at it."
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» Two thousand fifteen. I made it. Definitely showing signs of wear-n-tear, but I made it. Twas not so long ago when this milestone looked questionable.
So I am feeling a sense of accomplishment and gratitude that I havent felt with other New Years.
Tho 'happy,' no .. I would not use that word to describe my New Year. (Just being honest here.)
Last week was my HUMP WEEK. Week #4 of a 7-week treatment plan. The mother of all humps.
When I look back on hump week, I can see my ass there, dragging on the ground behind me .. trailing a good ten feet or so back there .. looking all worn out and shabby-like. Sucking serious wind.
The problem with my hump week vs your standard Wednesday hump .. is that things only get worse from here. (Say it aint so.)
Already, I can barely talk. When I do it hurts. My gums are bleeding and look downright scary (swollen & turning pale white).
My nose is bleeding, so that I need to wad up pieces of tissue paper and stick them in my nostril so that I dont drip blood everywhere.
And those arent even the worst parts. Dont even get me started on my tongue. Or my throat. This is why I say that this does not look doable.
Four weeks looks doable. Maybe five. But seven? I'm not seeing how you do that. Other than eating tons of narcotic pain meds all the time.
When the Chemo doctor [ Medical Oncologist ] saw me this past week, after feeling the size of the tumor, she looked in my mouth with a light and said » "Well, you definitely have mouth sores." [ just like she said I would ]
In this sense my hump is not really a hump, but rather merely represents the halfway point up a gnarly, steep hill .. the hump being up there at the top of the hill. Cuz you will still feel like shit well after 'treatment' concludes.
I can see that a primary concern for the Oncologist is giving the patient enough information so that (s)he has a good idea of what to expect, but not so much that you freak them the fuck out .. which would not be difficult.
I dont want to gross you out. [ Tho certainly, I'm sure that I easily could. You do not want to hear, for example, my emergency procedures to help alleviate the mother of all constipations .. caused by the narcotic pain meds. ] So let me tout some positives instead, and perhaps even inject some Rad humor .. for purposes of stress relief.
» I was going to title today's entry » Moving Back the Oncolytic Goal Posts .. for reasons that will become clear. But that would have been the whiny title, the sniveler's title. The pussy title. And nobody appreciates a whiny, sniveling pussy .. especially when it's a guy.
How many selfish, cold-hearted fucks do you know who get cancer? I'm talking empirically, here.
So I am feeling a sense of 
Now I know what he meant.