Oligo Woe Is Me

This one goes out to all my peeps at the Beehive, as well as the rest of you Veekers that added to the Box Of Joy.  For those of you that have absolutely no idea of what this post is about, just roll with it.

Beehive – Sung to the tune of Barry Manilow’s “Mandy” with backing music, of course, on ukulele.

Beehive, my only Beehive.

You made me happy when I was bummin.

You’ll never know how much the care package meant to me.

Someday, I’ll come fix your computers.

(big Pete Townshend windmill rock-show finish on the concert uke)

Really…everyone who participated can know that the box, and even more so the stuff inside, really lifted my spirits.  May the force be with you.

Rob

…twenty radiation sessions to go.  I feel pretty great considering what happens to be the reality of things.  I may have already posted this, but I am in the best shape of my adult life.  Ya know…except for that one little thing.  

My stats today: 195 pounds.  120 over 75 with a 72 pulse rate.  
Let’s compare to two years ago.  255 pounds.  150 over 110.  90+ pulse rate. 

“Check my pulse.  It don’t change.  Stays 72, come shine or rain.”

The cosmos must have known to send me some sort of signal to start getting my shite together because I had a battle coming my way.  Had I still been in the shape I had been two years ago, I don’t know if I would have survived my 5 days in the ICU when this thing all went down.

So after almost two weeks of proton radiation and chemotherapy, I can say *most* days I wake up feeling quite ok.  That 5am on the treadmill is a wonderful thing.  It’s quiet in the gym. Usually just me.  I get caught up on my entertainment celebrity news.  Which I have found seems to be the same celebrities every day with pretty much the same sort of situations they always have.  It’s amusing, but a little sad too.

I try to balance my celeb news with some CNN…but that seems also to be the same story every day with the same problems concerning the same people.  Hmm.  Gonna give that strange parallel some analysis when I find some time.

Took the kiddos to the Boston Children Museum yesterday…yes, you might say they had a good time.  And when we got back to our temporary abode, they slept.  Nice. A nice “perk”, if you wanna call it that, is that people in my condition can get comp passes to many of the Boston attractions from the Cancer Center at Mass General. So we’ve been able to do the Museum of Science and the Children’s Museum. I was able to take Cooper to the Charles Planetarium today, which blew his mind. Mine too, with just a bit of unfortunate nausea when the planets and moons and billions and billions of stars went swirling around the place.

A continued THANK YOU to all those following along, all those sending good vibes, all those sending cards and creations, and those helping with the support fund.  It’s all of this that helps so much knowing how many folks care, and care enough to let me know.  So to my family, neighbors, friends both old and new, and other supporters, you all TOTALLY ROCK!  

From the Cancer Resource Room at Mass General, with love and respect and peace to you all, 

Rob

I woke up, fell out of bed. Dragged a brush across my head.
Made my way downstairs and had a stroll.
Thirty-five on the treadmill and I was ready to roll.
Made my way upstairs and had a cup.
Looking up I noticed I wasn’t late.

Picked up a guitar and strummed a few, realized I was out of tune.
Grabbed my electronic gizmo to fix the fault, played a few loops and had enough.
So I thought I’d sit and start a stream, to tell you all about my morning routine.

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So here I am day one of my first ever Radiation Vacation. In a half and hour I take my Zofran, half and hour later my Temodar. First one is supposed to make me not get nauseous and second is my chemo drug of choice. Then an hour later I begin my vicious attack on Tawd…my brain tumor. That little bastard has no idea what’s coming. He thinks he’s got it all warm and cushy in there. Wait till he get his first blast of accelerated protons…which will clearly ruin his day…and maybe put the fear in him. I think that once he gets the clue that he can expect this sort of torture every 24 hours he’ll get the hint that he’s not dealing with some sissy man.

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Dear Tawd,

I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay. Now get the @&$! out.

Yours truly,

Rob