Friday, August 08, 2003

Friday is the Doctor’s Visit
And I can barely think or move. I am really tired. I did not sleep well last night, and we woke up very early this morning to get my folks to the airport and on their way home. Bye mom & dad! Love you, need to sleep more.

It is quite difficult to express to the people you love that you just want to lay around, and are really wore out, but will be okay. Even though you won’t. But don’t know/ It’s all so confusing, and just makes me MORE tired.

But Sara took the folks to the airport at 7:30 am this morning. They are on their way home. I snuck another lemon into my Mom’s purse. Sorry, fun joke, see what airport security will think.

Talk to Jim and Joe
2 of my best pals, Jim Learmonth and Joe Galletti are still in Austin. I have been trying to get in touch with Jim off and on for a few days, to return his call. Finally I get him, and they are both in the car. We chat about my missing testicle, and possible prosthetics. Which I am not going to have. But they hear about my ‘mini-magic-8’ ball idea. Then suggest large brass, as a possibility. Or even better, magnets! What? Magnets! Motorcycle tank bags are made with magnets in the bottoms, so they stick onto motorcycle gas tanks. There is a satisfying “click” as you put on a tank bag, and the magnets hold it there.

So I put magnets in my scrotum, and CLICK! I am stuck on the gas tank, and will not fall off as much! I love these guys, this is some of the humor I need. I still will not have any prosthetics.

Rent Car
While my folks were here, I rented a car, just to make it easier. It seemed like $289/week from National was a good deal. Then something happened, I am not sure, exactly, but I am out $390 on the credit card. Well, I don’t care, in the scheme of things, it is just fucking money. And they had a car, and we were able to get around easily during the week. I’ll make it up somewhere.

So we get the rent car to the airport, and get it all dropped off, and like, there is this one more weight off my shoulders. I do not have to think and worry about one more thing. It’s like, I can’t juggle all this, I have fucking Cancer! Can I take a nap? Why won’t people leave me alone!

Condo Interlude:
On the way to the doctor, we stop at the old condo to check for mail/packages/angel of death wanting more of my money and blood. Nothing there. But run into some realtor, so I smile, and say how wonderful it is, and yeah, there IS a 2 car garage. So it is still for sale, listing# 340519 if you know anyone looking.

So we leave the rent car place, and drive to Dr. Andonian’s office. This is it, this is the scary part, this is what we have been waiting all week to find out. He sends Sara back into his office to talk, and pulls me into an examination room.

My remaining testicle and penis are deep purple. With yellow and black, and some orange and tan bruising. He says this is normal, WHEW! I was afraid it was infected and gonna fall off. I simply MUST get Jack to take some photos, it is amazing colors.

But he grabs the removed testicle, and really mashes it around to look. And I am not screaming! I am not doubled over in blinding pain. There is no big, cancerous, infected blob in there anymore.

He looks at the scar on my abdomen from the surgery, and says it is healing okay, I should put more ice on everything. Which I have been doing religiously, I will keep on it.

Then he tells me the lab results are 100% Seminola, or something, and it is 98% curable. And we walk back to his office (I pulled up my pants first) to talk to Sara.

A bunch of thoughts are running through my mind, mostly being “Seminola? Is that an Indian tribe, or a kind of flour for making pasta?” I was wrong.

Semolina: Pasta Flour

Seminole: Indian Tribe

Seminoma - A type of testicular cancer that arises from sex cells, or germ cells, at a very early stage in their development. Seminoma is the most common testicular germ cell tumor, accounting for 30-40% of all such tumors. Pure seminoma is very sensitive to radiation treatment.

Doctor’s Office With Sara
Sara forgot her notebook with questions, but after we found out I did not have wheat flour in my balls, I was pretty happy. She was all agitated that she forgot her notebook and 8 million questions, that she tried to get off some.

My pop made the observation while he was here, that some people are Process oriented, and some are Results oriented. I am results. I just want to get to resolution, and move on. Sara is process, and wants to know every little detail about every little thing. Example: shopping for a chair. Sara wants to know if it matches the room, and if it goes with the other chairs, and what kind of wood is it made out of, and were any indigenous tribes booted out of their native habitat to harvest the wood. And me? Does it fit my ass?

Well, she was concerned about process, and I want to know the next step.

The Next Step
CT Scans. My cancer did not all come out with my testicle. It was bulk Seminoma, and some of it decided to adventure out to my lymph system. At this point, we need to find out where all it is. So we will have a CT scan at the hospital, and look for it.

After we find it, and find out what kind it is, we meet with the Oncologist, who will discuss treatment options. There are 3, that can be single, or combo-ed up.

Radiation, Chemotherapy, Surgery.

Our goal is to avoid surgery. That would involve cutting out all the sick Lymph nodes, all over my body. EEEK! Wicked ugly scars., and more surgery.

Dr. Andonian seems to think Chemo is the next step. Sara asked him about radiation, but he seems to believe with the type and amount I had, chemo is the answer.

BUT! No use worrying till the CT scan. That is set for 2 weeks from now.

Am I still making guys? We do not know.

And at the moment, I don’t care if Brittney Spears shows up with Sophia Loren, Jennifer Lopez, Angelina Jolie, Faith Hill, ALL of the Dixie Chicks, and Connie Selleca (1970’s tv starlet and early crush) anyhow, if they all showed up nekkid with a 55 gallon pump drum of margarine, claiming they was gonna wrassle me out of my drawers, I would not be able to assist.

I am purple and in pain. We ain’t finding out nothing. Doctor Andonian says that we’ll do some sampling before we start any chemo, and if we are headed down that path, and I I am making guys, we’ll put some in a bank, just in case.

Also, I cannot fill a Dixie cup and put it in the freezer, it does not work that way, please do not even suggest it.

So we leave the doctors office and go to a furniture shop on Meridian, where Sara has picked out a desk she wants. We buy it, one more consumer decision gone. It is very pretty, I hope her monitor fits on it. Jack will help her pick it up tomorrow. She has agonized over this for about a month and a half. I hope it is the right one.

We run by work, cause I have this one email that is choking my work email, and I want to send it form the office. We get there, and the place is crickets. Totally deserted. No one. But the lights are on in Keith’s office, so I know he is there. Maybe out at lunch.

I call, he is on his way, I’ll speak to him. I cannot find anyone else on my team. So I sit in the office, send my email, and wait around.

I meet with Keith. He is great, he is incredibly supportive, and really helping me out. We transfer some information, I clear some things I was worried about. His gout is under control, all will be well.

I am really lucky to have this support.

No Lunch, Home
Sara is very tired. She is cranky. She does not want lunch, she wants to go home. So we do. And she takes a nap. My cell phone is ringing, and people want stuff, and the mailman is at the door, and I just want to sleep too. But I eat a bagel dog instead. Bagel Dogs are the perfect food. I love them. But cannot find them on the web, so no link.

Then I take a nap, consider seminola, then write this up to send out. At time of sending, the scar on my belly is burning pain, and I have a splitting headache.

Comments: Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?