This article makes me think heavily about my own doctors and the language they used. Also her description of inflammatory breast cancer as “the most deadly” with a 40% 5-year rate makes me wonder just how bad my diagnosis was. I heard anything between 80% (comfortable) and 50%.
Hey I just started seeing Dr. Basu. How are you doing now?
I’m doing really well… thanks. I have my first 3-month follow-up after treatments next month. I only had the one tumor, and it was gone. Dr. Basu is a great doctor, and I’ve gotten to know her pretty well over the past year. You’re in good hands!
This is a wonderful idea. Bone marrow transplants save many lives, and many more still need them. Bravo!
Haircut! and other Updates
Well, people, today was my first haircut post-cancer! Of course, it’s still too short for a real cut, but I got it cleaned up in preparation for my AWESOME VACATION TO DISNEY WORLD IN TWO DAYS.
Meanwhile, I’m writing my entrance essay for candidacy for rostered ministry in the ELCA. Just reached he part about my experience with cancer, and I can tell it’s going to be one whopper of an essay.
Also, I interviewed for a job at Starbucks today. It seemed to have gone well. I think I’d enjoy working there while getting things back on-track. We shall see.
Did I mention I’m going to Disney World on Thursday? I feel this whole time I’ve been very nonchalant about the decision to go to a sad-ish tourist mecca, justifying it in terms of ease and hedonism. BUT I AM SO FRIGGIN EXCITED. I have to admit I’m an avid drinker of the Disney Kool-Aid, problematic stereotypes in narrative and all. Just give me a fireworks show and a song about world peace, and I’m a happy camper.
After this year, I think any developments are seen as positive ones. Things are looking up!
THIS is precisely the type of work that NEEDS to be done. All over the world. I write and write about access to healthcare because it’s a FUNDAMENTALLY important human rights crisis. Without it, people die needlessly. With it, so many of life’s persistent problems vanish. This man’s story is truly inspirational.
Its gone!
And just like that, we really close the book. The port is gone. My little chest bump is no more. Goodbye cancer, hello world!
2/22/12 — cannot wait
At 7:30 AM on 2/22/12, I will have my port removed. That annoying nub under my skin will finally be gone. It will be closing the book on a terrible terrible story. I cannot wait.
You see, it’s quite the source of anxiety. I’m always worried it’ll get infected, or get a clot. I was terrified that it would not return blood, and I hated getting it accessed. They stabbed you with a rather large needle.
While sleeping or in the shower, i’d often knock into it with my hand or pillow or something. It hurts. Even after a year, it still kinda hurts to touch. Well it will soon be gone.
The one downside to having it removed is the removal itself. Whereas I was sedated to have it placed, they only give me a little local anesthesia before pulling it out through my chest. YIKES! If I don’t faint from that, it’ll be a miracle.
Really, though, compared to all the horrors of the past year, seeing a long tube coming out of my chest will be nothing.
KIDS: Don’t try this at home. My doctor told me to shave my hair to promote a thick, shiny coat do. Well… my hair (however thin) was too long, and it took me an hour to shave. I still have some persistant tufts of long, brown hair, and I look like a victim of some sort of mange. Also, this angle makes my face look strangely Sarah Jessica Parker horse-like.
As an added plus, I’m super-dehydrated from being in the shower. Yuck.
