OK, they say that there is NO cancer in my bone marrow. They also say that my CT Scans and my gallium scans show no cancer below my diaphragm. However, they say there's plenty o' the stuff above my diaphragm. So the deal is 12 sessions of ABVD (acronym developed by the military meaning "A Bunch of Victorious Drugs") followed (maybe) by radiation, or "R" for you militaryophiles.
A Bowl of Vegetarian Drugs
Abigail Buntwhistle has Venereal Disease(s)
Aardvarks Bark at Vinny Daily
A Bolus of Vinegar on Doughnuts
A Bunch of Virulent Drugs
Actually, Betty Visualizes Demerol
Arcane Beasts from Vermont Deeps
Aahg Barf Vlech Duh!
Armor-Belted V-6 Duster
Automatic Barf 'n' Vomit Diet
Send your acronym to:
Chief Customer Complaint Representative
State 'O Washington
My doctors differ on whether or not to have radiation after chemo. I have suggested a mixed fruit salad and bottle of cheap australian red, but they demure, suggesting multi-thousands of rads of direct gamma rays on my mantle. Mantle is a medical term for "mantle". I have been told by my wife that my mantle is very sexy and that I have a better mantle than most. However, I think this is something all wives tell their husbands during these tough moments. "Honey, I never told you this before..." Since the decision to have or not have R comes after the main course of six months of ABVD, I have some time to research all of the horrible mutilagenic side effects of radiation before I have to decide whether or not be irradiated. We'll burn that bridge when we come to it.
On Wednesday I get a "port-a-cath" implanted in my shoulder. This is to IV's what the revolving door is to glass skyscrapers. It makes me an "open-access" system so that my pituitary can get full a internet connection and a web site and the nurses can tickle my aorta at will. Apparently, after the port-a-cath installation I could start to freebase cocaine and not have track marks up and down my arm. Unfortunately, I have been told by VERY good doctors that this is a bad time to start a pernicious drug habit. However, with a port-a-cath, I could shoot up steamed dumplings, lightbulbs, steak tartare, old electric bills, caviar or just about anything that can fit in a syringe. There are other benefits, but I can't think of any right now.
Straight after the port-a-cath (do NOT confuse with port-a-potty, somthing implanted in bad patients by who don't take their medicine) I go upstairs and get my first installation of chemo.
There are lots of fraternity-type jokes I could make about vomiting and chemo, but will defer to the better class of reader and simply report that I do NOT plan to puke after chemo. I may heave chunks, but that's a different story. The only question is: projectile or not?
In addition, though I am likely to lose my hair, I also plan to lose my nose-hair, and good riddance!!!
I will leave you with a quote from a reader:
"Some people a way with words, some have not way"
"Thomas Hodgkins Died of Natural Causes"