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I have just checked in. They have put an IV in my left arm and drawn blood. This will be sent out to a lab for more thorough analysis.
I spoke briefly with the oncologist. He is puzzled by the items in my brain that show up on the MRI but not on the PET scan. He is going to refer me to a neurologist. It turns out I know the neurologist. He and I used to run together – well sort of. He has natural running ability and I don’t. He could not train for six weeks and still blow my doors off.
I asked the oncologist if he is hitting me hard enough. I told him, that when I go to war, I want to use the biggest nastiest weapons at my disposal. I’m reminded of a military analogy.
When a remote firebase is being attacked and it looks like the enemy is going to overrun the base, then call in artillery fire directly on their own position. The thinking is, the troops are in foxholes and the enemy is standing up. When artillery fire comes it, it will kill the enemy troops at a higher rate than the friendlies. But it is a desperate last ditch tactic.
I sort of feel that’s where I stand.
I’m reading Lance Armstrong’s book, “It’s Not About the Bike.†If you want to read his cancer story, it is intense. I wound up skipping chapters two and three, as they were flashbacks to his childhood days.
Lance went through hell, but he never gave up.
Posted by The Vorlon at October 19, 2005 9:36 AM