Diagnosis +26

The big news today:  NOBODY STUCK ANYTHING UP MY REAR-END!!!!  WOOHOOO!!

Today was the "sim" or simulation of the radiation therapy.  Basically that meant that I had to go lie on the machine, in the custom mold that they made to keep me contorted, while they zapped me with X-rays and then drew on me with a sharpie.

I discovered early on that the radiation therapists were not easily amused.  I started off light, asking them what the nickname was for the machine I was lying on (Bernard was the answer), then I tried a whole thing about how they draw the marks on patients with full body tattoos (they've never had that problem).  They made no comment at all about the Santa-skull socks that I wore specifically for their amusement.  But then they told me that they were leaving the room, but that they would still be able to hear and see me.  I said "so, basically you're saying that I shouldn't try to steal anything."  That got 'em.  Victory!

Now that I've softened 'em up, I can re-use some of my earlier material.  Of course, I might have a different crew depending on the day.

Even worse!!!!

So I've just gotten home and taken a look in the mirror at the marks they drew on me.  Now, instead of three crosses, I've got a complicated pattern that kind of looks like a transformer head in profile.  Or something.  It's messed up.  And there are dotted lines all over the place.  It's almost like Isabelle found me passed out and decided to decorate my belly.  Only it's way too symmetric for Isabelle's work.  Here and there they've taped down the key nodes (so that the sharpie won't wash off, I guess).  They had to remove one of the pieces of tape today from an area that (ahem) had hair.  Ouch.

The other big news today is that we got the final co-pay amount for the chemo drug.  Just $100.  But that's after some special program from the pharma company paid the rest of the copay - which was over $1400.  Which means that the full price of the drug was over $7000.  For a one month supply.  Ouch.  I can see that renewing our company's insurance policy next year is going to be an expensive proposition.  The pills should arrive tomorrow morning, so tomorrow marks the first day of both radiation therapy and chemo therapy.

Cancer Beard.  And checkout that hippie hair.

Finally, the "Cancer Beard" has begun to garner its first negative reviews.  One gentlemen told me today that it was growing in "an interesting pattern."  I told Elizabeth that I was going to let my hair and beard grow until I was done with treatment.  Her response: "I don't think that's a good idea, but do what you want."  Hmm...