Before I tell you about today’s special guest, I would like to share a great little run-in I had in a bathroom at the podiatrist’s office (incidentally, the podiatrist is the brother of today’s special guest, but he doesn’t read this, so I’m not going to bother giving him a named shout out). I was waiting for Mere to wash her hands when a woman came out of the stall, and when she saw my sexy bald head (most days now, it’s too warm for even a bandana, and I love trying to catch people staring), she said, “I used to have that same hairstyle a couple of years ago.” With a smile, I said, “Good for you!” We chatted a bit before leaving. It was nice. It’s funny, too, because sometimes, you can even tell a current or former cancer patient by the smile of recognition and camaraderie. Another little story – I was at P.F. Chang’s with my parents a while back, and though I was wearing a bandana, and still had eyebrows and lashes, for anyone with a clue, it was pretty obvious that I was going through chemo. A few women walked past our table and one smiled at me. I told my mom, “She had cancer. I can tell by the way she smiled at me.” My mom knew just what I meant. It’s a big club that no one wants to join, but damn if we don’t support each other. 🙂
Back to the present. No, Margo, it’s not Babs – even better! My oldest and dearest BFF, Sia, is here today (delayed by traffic I can only assume was slowed due to anticipation of the pending rain storm). All we do is laugh (Fig. 1 & Fig. 2). Seriously, pass the Depends. We joke nonstop about my cancer, my baldness, etc. etc. I know you all will get it (in the wake of the penis issue), but so many people think there’s something wrong with us.
Case in point: text convo with my brother (Fig. 3).
Other than running a little late, everything is going well today. I’ve graduated from the 50mg of IV Benadryl to 25 oral, because at this point, the chance of reaction from the Rituxan is so low. I’ve been totally awake, raging on my 100mg of prednisone from this morning. The great part of that is that I haven’t missed any of my visit with Sia due to the drunken, narcoleptic effect of the IV administration of benadryl. Another bonus – I got to totally enjoy lunch – chicken gyros followed by my mom’s famous cheesecake. Mom – Sia said to tell you it’s fantastic (or some complimentary word like that – I blame chemo brain for my inability to remember what was said less than an hour ago).
One of my chemo drugs, Cytoxan, has a fun kicker – I get an insane tingling/stinging in my nose. So, that’s fun. But, once it runs through, I’m fine. And remember that red stuff I showed you during my first cycle? It turns out, the reason they push it via syringe, rather than letting go through the pump, is so the nurse can closely monitor placement via aspiration (drawing back on the syringe plunger to make sure there’s blood return) because if for any reason (blown vein, needle pops out, whatever), the stuff touches any other tissue, it causes SEVERE damage. Like, eat your skin damage. Destroy your muscle damage. Yeah. That’s what they mean when they say chemo drugs are toxic.
For whatever reason, the iPad/iPhone app for CaringBridge will only let me add one photo to a post. Nor will it let me see more than one when viewing a post, so if you’re on the app, as opposed to a regular, full site browser window, do yourself a favor (or at least, humor me) and click on the photos menu so you can see all four photos from today (and any others you may have missed along the way). Anyway, I’m posting this one from my Chromebook, so I can add multiple photos. And Adam seemed to think there was something wrong with me sitting here, having three different devices connected to the internet (Fig. 4).
They all work, so in my mind, there’s no problem. 🙂 I used the EOSRemote app on the iPad to frame and take the photos of Sia and myself, plus transfer, and brighten/watermark the photos I took with the camera, and I had the screen capture I had to transfer from the phone. So not only is it not wrong, it was necessary. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
*Note – if you’re reading this on BiselBlog.com, ignore the part about viewing in the CaringBridge app.
Original Comments from the CaringBridge Blog:
Yes, it is a big club that no one wants to join. But once your in, there is a lot of support from everywhere! From what I have read, it sounds like you are doing great. I love the positive attitude and keep it up. Your posts are awesome, as they only can be considering the content and the author!
—Michelle Johnson, June 11, 2015
Deb, I’m on comment break due to the beyond measurable exhaustion of this new puppy. Waking up in the middle of the night is NOT for people my age. I’ll be back….no fears. And truth be known, not many gene pools have OUR sense of humor!!!!!
—margo barbakow, May 27, 2015
Your posts are hilarious! !!! Love the way you write and your outlook on everything. Keep it going! !!
—michelle golden, May 26, 2015
You are just some kind of wonderful Kid!!! Yes, there are GREAT people out there–Thanks for the stories! Hugs to all of you!
—jo Wilken, May 26, 2015
I can’t get past the part where you say that I came to visit and then you start talking about a run in you had in the washroom. Um thank you? Glad I triggered your washroom incident. I had fun hanging out with you, the time went by too fast. Sorry for the quick comment but we’re heading out for the football game or is it baseball? We’ll see how long it takes my kids to figure out what they’re watching. I hope the nurses didn’t flag me to keep me out of your room 😉 Mrs. K the cheesecake was delicious, I even brought my own fork.
—sia serpico, May 26, 2015