Thursday, March 08, 2007


Gone are the days of just going to the doctor. Now I have a team of doctors--oncologist, surgeon, plastic surgeon, and who knows how many others before this is finished. Stitches from the biopsy came out today. Next surgical procedure is installing the port. Gotta get the chemo therapy into my veins somehow. Inserting a nifty little device is supposed to facilitate that process. Sort of like a doggy door, I guess. I wonder how this is going to work out with the car seatbelt?

I'm also going to need a wig specialist after the first dose of chemo. That's when all of my hair is supposed to fall out if the chemo is working. If it doesn't, I'm supposed to be unhappy about that. Yeah right! They say it comes back again but the texture and color might be different. Let's see what color shall I wish for? Blonde? Maybe white like my grandmother's? Knowing my luck, it's gonna be gray--just mousey gray and probably curly. I hate my hair curly. My hair was kinky curly when I was a teenager in the 60's (Remember what Cher's hair looked like? That was the good hair in the 60's. Mine was a total embarrassment.)

Did you know that if you have cancer, they have to take your blood pressure on the opposite side of your body because the cancer causes false readings? I asked why but didn't get an explanation.

I'm off the hook until Tuesday. Then the scans begin. Cat Scan. Muga Scan. Bone Scan. Pet Scan. When they're done with the scans they will know every inch of my body. Who knew I was this important? I might even glow in the dark since one of them requires a radioactive dye. (I'm kidding about the glowing. I don't think I'm going to glow. Sigh. I'll just have to be happy with the glow from the Laphrohaig. Yeah. It's a nice glow.)

My husband is not going to find this blog funny! Poor guy. He doesn't know how to cook and looks pretty worried. LOL

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