CT scan

Too Much Week

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.

Is it working yet?

Cancer has so many freaky parts. I write about them as they hit me. Up until now I’ve been in what feels like the uphill phase – the new world order. Moving bumpily toward the mid-point that may be the beginning of the end of cancer. Or not.

Do it again.

Remember the enhancement? The incidental finding on my brain? I’d gotten quite adept at not thinking about that.  If they were futzing around for so long, isn’t it likely there was nothing to be found?

The company I keep

The waiting rooms are packed. So many people waiting for treatments. Waiting for blood work, to tell them they are healthy enough for more toxins. Waiting for news. Waiting to crumple to the floor in the presence of a stranger. Waiting to have that last optimistic fragment of "benign", shattered. Waiting to step away from everything familiar. Waiting. No reading. Just peeing for distraction.

Pages