Once a month, I'm reminded of my cancer... and boneless chickens (sometimes).
It's true. I usually don't think very much about my diagnosis because:
a) I don't want to
b) I'm too busy
c) I don't want it to define who I am (that's the beard's job).
So, yeah, I don't often think about it until I have to go back to London once a month and then it becomes real again. The drive, the waiting, the pills . . . . With that in mind, I said to Kristen today that, for a cancer centre, the place is surprisingly positive and upbeat. There are so many great people working there and just as many amazing people who are meeting this thing head on - body, mind and soul. I really enjoy my Neuro too - he has a way about him that I really like. He's thorough and patient, he never rushes things and always takes the time to answer all of our questions, even if they seem absurd, so that makes the trip worthwhile as well. He also enjoys Gary Larson's Far Side and takes great pleasure in recollecting some of his favourite strips, such as the following:
Anyway, today, I start my second round of chemo, moving from 305mg to 405mg for each of the next five days. Round one went rather smoothly, so I'm hoping for more of the same. I didn't realize it had been so long since my last post until a few people, my brother-in-law included, dropped hints that it was about time for new content. In all honesty, I'm not sure how interested people are in what has become a rather mundane life that includes lots of laundry, some side projects, and crushing crossword puzzles, but I promise I'll post when there's something worth reporting.