And Then I Got Cancer

Today was bone marrow biopsy day. It's day 14 of the second round of chemo, so now's the time to check whether the chemo had the desired effect. The first round of chemo brought me down from 43 percent to I think 10 percent leukemia cells. I don't think I ever mentioned that FISH test that came back, because I was already on to the second round of chemo. For some reason I thought I might not have had as much pain this time around. I guess there's nothing wrong with wishful thinking. But, it seems like these biopsies are getting more painful every time. Maybe my bone is still bruised and they keep hitting the same bruised spot. I think I made up for the pain by getting pictures of the goods. Here's my bone marrow sample. It's a core of my pelvis. It looks like a maggot to me. And here is the stuff they suck out from the inside of my bone (also bone marrow, but looks more like blood.  They had a harder time getting a good sample this go round. I could f

The VA hospital is a federal facility. When I arrived here, they told me under no circumstances could I have cannabis products in the hospital. Which I guess is too bad, because medicinal marijuana is so famous for treating the side effects of chemotherapy. Getting chemotherapy seems like the best time to see for myself if all the hype is true. These past few days have been difficult. I'm in my second nadir, so hobbies include moving very slowly, staring off into space, and getting stomachaches. I know nausea and vomiting are more common chemo side effects, and I've had very little of that. But plain old stomach pain seems to be my side effect of choice. So the other night I had this dream where I was laying in bed with terrible stomach pain. And as I was there writhing around and sweating into my sheets, this little elf squeezes himself under my door, jumps up on my bed, and drops a CBD chew in my mouth. That was the end of the dream. Pretty mundane, really. But when I wo

I have been more irritable than usual these past few days, so I've been compiling a list in my head of all the minor irritations that have gotten under my skin. I'd like to share this list with you now. I hate when I'm trying to get a wipe out of the package of wipes, and I can't get just the one I need. A second one always wants to sneak out, or get all bunched up in the package. I hate when my slippers get pushed under the bed far enough that I can't reach them. I hate when someone knocks on my door and waits for me to tell them to come in. They can never hear me the first time, so I end up having to shout, "COME IN ALREADY WHY DON'T YOU?" I don't actually say this, but that's what's going through my mind. I hate when my nurse doesn't wait long enough for the alcohol to dry before giving me a shot in the belly. I hate when I moisturize and the very next day my skin is peeling off again. I hate when the drawer in my bedside table ge