Submitted by avivarubin on Fri, 07/11/2014 - 09:58
I know, I know. You’re thinking:
Submitted by avivarubin on Mon, 06/30/2014 - 07:15
I DON’T HAVE TO GET RADIATION!!!!!
Submitted by avivarubin on Tue, 06/24/2014 - 09:34
I’m tired of counting down. Feels like my whole cancer life is about counting down.
Submitted by avivarubin on Sun, 06/15/2014 - 07:30
While the second opinion was brighter than the first, everything I go through in Lymphomaland opens new windows of insight I’d have been happy to keep closed. It’s getting drafty in here. There’s that always-look-on-the-bright-side saying - Whenever God (or whoever) closes a door, he/she/they opens a window. Why do we think a bunch of open doors and windows is a good thing? Bugs and rodents wander in, kids slip out. It’s like disguising problems as opportunities.
Submitted by avivarubin on Sun, 06/08/2014 - 16:54
You know the joke about making your second million in business first, because it’s so much easier than your first? Well so it goes with opinions, next time I’m going to get my second opinion first, because that was way better. And why don't they call it a first opinion?
Submitted by avivarubin on Tue, 05/27/2014 - 07:49
A week that starts with a really shitty radiation oncologist appointment - hope you weren’t too attached to your hair or your current vagina - followed by a CT scan, and concluding with my regular Dr. B & Dr. J, oncology appointment could, I suppose, have had a happy ending. But it didn’t.
Submitted by avivarubin on Sun, 05/25/2014 - 12:04
Why did the chicken cross the road? Maybe it didn’t have cancer.
Submitted by avivarubin on Mon, 05/12/2014 - 12:51
I put on a new pair of underpants today.
Yesterday I went to the Bay. They were having a big sale on bedding, and I wanted new pillows. But I bought underwear instead. For months, I’ve barely shopped for anything other than food, light bulbs and pavement salt. I haven't been able to focus enough for anything else. When you can’t focus, you go shopping for pillows, end up with underwear, and it really doesn’t matter.
Submitted by avivarubin on Fri, 05/02/2014 - 07:53
I’m told it’s an old school bell. At Princess Margaret Hospital they ring it when someone finishes chemo, at the end of their final treatment.
Submitted by avivarubin on Sun, 04/27/2014 - 07:48
Day 2 of the last round of the 6 chemo treatments:
The combo of chemo and anxiety is a lethal one. Not drop dead lethal. Mini-lethal. Cry-just-because lethal. I was never going to OD with one extra Ondansetron anti-nausea pill, but things can go wrong when you get all worked up.