Wait! One More Bit of Bad News!

OMG! I'm late on my next screening colonoscopy!

Sorry. Not actually a big deal. Occasionally, I like to do that sort of thing to people.

Be well,

--T

Our time was short, but it was so rich, and so, so joyful.

I am lucky.

Unlike Humpty Dumpty, We Are Not Having a "Great Fall."

First of all, the good news: no members of the household have died since November 21st.

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K had another lumpectomy 9 days ago because her first lumpectomy missed a little bit of tumor. Today, we saw her surgeon back at the F'in' Famous Cancer Hospital downtown, and she told us that there was a little, itty-bitty, tiny, wee bit of tumor that was poking out beyond the margins of the second lumpectomy. This is known in the business by the combination of Latin duo- with -ectomy to make a dumpectomy.  So, it's on to a third lumpectomy. As you might guess, the combo of the Latin tres- with -ectomy to makes a trumpectomy.*  (Thanks, I'll be here all week.)

The surgery is tentatively scheduled for January 4. Maybe the new year will be luckier. Interestingly there is a new kind of test that will, be done on the tumor. It should give a pretty good estimate of whether it would be a good idea for K to get radiation. We hope it will be unnecessary, because we have reason to dislike radiation in this household.

K is, as usual, calmly going through scientific papers and putting her doctors through their paces, making sure she will make the right decisions. She has done this for me too. It's quite impressive.

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Always competitive, Katie the Cat has joined the fray, but it's a weak offering. K dragged her to her senior cat appointment at the vet's, and they concluded that she has some kidney damage. However, this is common in older cats, and she may yet have a few more years in her. (She's 14.) I picked up her prescription kidney-friendly cat food today, and I am sure she will hate it.

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So, that leaves little old me. First of all, I am in the last of my six weeks of 24-hour IV penicillin. I have just come up with some true comedy gold about this even as the window closes.

Here is my faithful IV pump, Alvin. He is attached to me all the time:

Now, whenever someone asks me what Alvin is, I will say, "do you remember that thing on Darth Vader's chest?" I hope I'll get an opportunity to do that. Nevertheless, I will not miss Alvin and his frequent muttering, and I will be able to do parkour again.

Meanwhile, though, there is other stuff going on. There is the matter of at least four months of oral amoxicillin. JD recently pointed out that only way to know for sure that the antibiotic worked is for me not to spit out another piece of skull. That's not very useful, so I may be on it forever. This may contribute to my lifelong dream of having a whole new resistant bacterium named after me!

Also, I am producing an enormous amount of gunk from my facehole.** That means infection. It may or may not be the same one that has been tearing up my skull.*** In any case, neither of two additional antibiotics have touched it. How, and even whether this can be cured is the next question, but I have an all-star team working on it. More adventure!

Meanwhile, B, hardened veteran of his father's health antics, remains unfazed.




* Sorry, Ed. I just had to say it.

** The area which used to be my sinuses and a nice thick bone at the back of my throat before surgery and radiation made a mess of it.

*** As old Walt would say, "I contain multitudes."

Katie the Cat insists on nighttime walks (without a leash) just like the ones we took with her younger, smellier sister. This brings me comfort.