Columbus and the Valley

An Unmanned Sock Monkey Puppet

Thanksgiving night after all our family had left us, I decided this was as good a night as any to take the Xanax test. We had a busy, great day and we were both pretty tired. I had been up and down all night the night before Thanksgiving with the turkey and Jill did a great job getting the house in order, so that we could wake up to a clean house on Black Friday.

Everything was done by about 9 p.m., so at about 9:15 I popped 2 half-milligram Xanax tablets. I was as relaxed as an unmanned sock monkey puppet by 9:45 and I busied myself with various tasks to see if I could remain awake, but still be calm. I was able to read, do some surfing on the web, watch a little TV and talk to an exhausted Jill without issue. As soon as I became still and let my mind settle down, I was gone. Sleep came quickly and I had a restful night.

I guess I’m ready for the call from Emory. I can’t think of anything I can do to prepare my head for the ugly shrink wrapping experience, short of going for extended hypnotherapy sessions to try to condition myself not to be claustrophobic. I don’t have time for that. I’m ready to go and I’m hopeful the Xanax will help keep me calm and prevent me from blowing a gasket while I’m lying there.

Flipping the Bird

Thanksgiving Day may be the best day of the year. The holiday, devoid of most of the typical American materialistic money mongering, is just about family, food and thankfulness. What could be better? This year, because of what is going on with my health, will be bittersweet. In a typical year, I’d be outside days in advance of Thanksgiving trying to get things in shape after the beginnings of the annual leaf fall had our yard looking like New York City’s Broadway after a ticker tape parade. [Read more…]

$5,000 Tattoo

Thankfully, I have an appointment tomorrow at 1 p.m. for the CT simulation in advance of my radiosurgery on the kidney cancer metastasis in my spine. I have confirmed that no contrast dye will be used during the procedure, so I won’t have any unusual hydration during the run up to or after the simulation. I understand they’ll mark me up with a permanent marker and use the marks to line me up for the radiosurgery treatment. I’m not sure where those marks will be, but sounds like I’ll be getting my first tattoo, a $5,000 tattoo, that will take some time to wash off. The tat might be a teardrop coming out of one of my eyes after I take someone out if they don’t get me properly medicated before strapping me down. Don’t gang members get a teardrop tat when they whack somebody?

I’m hopeful that the actual radiosurgery will take place early next week, prior to Thanksgiving, giving me the long weekend to recuperate, but I won’t find out about scheduling until tomorrow while we’re at the Emory Winship Cancer Center.

Jill and I have had several conversations the past couple of days about the realities of this re-occurrence of my kidney cancer. I have enough information from my research to know that the rest of our lives are going to be very different. The bone metastasis is a signal that another met is probable. Jill and I and our team of doctors will be on high alert. At this point, I’m not sure about scan frequency. That is something Dr. Pippas and I will have to discuss. What we now know is that we have to live every day like it will be the last one. Come to think of it, we all need to be doing that every day, regardless of whether or not we’re battling a big illness.

The upcoming holiday time will be a sweet one for me. This is the first year that we will have all four of our sons at our Thanksgiving Day meal. Sharing them with other spouses has been a challenge in the past and circumstances have changed this year. I’m sad for the things that happened to make having them all together possible, but I’m so happy that we’ll all be together this year.

I’ll post again to let you know about the CT simulation. If you see me with that teardrop, you’ll know the claustrophobia got the best of me and someone had to pay the ultimate price.

Radiation Treatment Plans

Dr. Liza Stapleford, Tufts University trained Emory radiation oncologist, popped into the room. First impressions: she’s very young and thin. She wears funky black velcro strapped sneakers and is topped with dark, shoulder-length  spiral curls. She’s very calm and bookish, in a good way. [Read more…]