First Things First



I’m tired of counting down. Feels like my whole cancer life is about counting down.

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.

New underpants

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.

Radiation - the full frontal attack

How many months ago was it that I was worried about a little radiation in the form of chest x-rays, CT scans and mammograms? Then how long before that was I anxious about simple x-rays at the dentist?

What I Got for Valentine’s Day

Two appointments were scheduled for Valentine’s Day (VD - who can tire of that short form?): a consultation with a radiologist, Dr D, and an appointment with my oncologist to review blood and the CT report. I was told they’d try to do them together so I wouldn't have to wait around between the first at 9:00, and the second at 11:00.

Cancer – a world of best laid plans.

Totally Rad

I have a bucket list of fears I’m looking to empty. I don’t have room for them all right now. I probably wasn’t meant to use the bucket this way, but it is my bucket. One of the fears that up until recently lay glowing at the bottom of the pile, was radiation. Hypochondriacs should never work on radiation protocol taskforces.