Sunday, August 3, 2008

Treatment started last Monday, crawling its way throughout the week until Thursday morning. This one hit a little rougher, so either the docs mean business or I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue. Will spare the queezy details, but here a few thoughts/impressions I can summon to answer to how I'm doing / what I'm up to, etc.

During and for the first or so week after treatment, each day is but the sum of the little victories it takes to get through it. And, of course, the little things that make you smile. Hearing good songs, watching Daily Show, South Park, to cite a few. Hearing Sammy's voice to cite a biggie.

Somedays, the road to victory holds a sole task. Today's gauntlet was to muster up the strength, and appetite, to go out and eat. After losing 4 kg in 4 days, mission critical, if I don't want them to start feeding me IV, which I don't. Got halfway there this morning, i.e., got up the strength, but appetite then took a sudden dive south. Before the suspense becomes unbearable here, I'm glad to report today's cat in the bag and purring contently. On the second Cannonball Run, the catch was a bacon cheese omelett, fried potatoes and four pieces of dry, white toast. Don't sound like much but, believe you me, nirvana.

Not much to choose from on the clinic grounds. There are 2 restaurants: one Italian, one German. Hospital food is atrocicious (I know that's not a word but I mean it to be descriptive in a meta sense, i.e., food that is not just badness but flat-out wrongness.) With all the wonders of modern science -- they can shrink a team of scientists into an atom-sized spaceship travelling throughout the human body (can't they?) -- they still can't slap together something as simple as a toasted onion bagel with cream cheese. Then again, even if they could, my stomach surely would balk due to a firmly upheld blanket embargo on all things hospital cantine.) That lovely little onion bagel was all I was in the mood for today but, alas, the deli was dry.

While I don't have much physical strength, I'm honing my mental powers. Today, I shunned peskering wasps from my lunch with Jedi-like prowess ("These are not the bratkartoffel you are looking for."). Now I sit here in the park, watching the sunset, keeping my BBerry typing skills state of the art. If all goes well, I'll get back to my room and before falling asleep will log on to pass on this long-overdue greeting.