Cheeseburgers, see you in a week. Although this smoothy I made is phenomenal. Sorry cancer advisers! I am eating foods that taste good. I know that's against the rules.
The in-between days sort of made me forget how much it sucks to feel full and a little nauseated and tired and like lights are really bright. Now I'm back in it, chemo round 2, what is there to say? Nothing.
So I will just post some pictures of the journey thus far. Many were snapped hastily in hospitals with cheap cell phone cameras, so as photojournalism goes, probably not going to blow your socks off.
Ultrasound of the neck lump, back when no one knew what was wrong with me. Correction: back when no one knew what was wrong with me except all my doctors, who were like "shit, this kid totally has cancer but I can't actually tell him that until we get decent biopsy results."
Biopsy #2 when it was still stripped and purple from the surgeon's pen. Now it's a neat scar, I like to tell people I got into a knife fight. With cancer.
Two days after the port placement surgery. Suture stripped and still plenty of bruising -- see how the blood followed the line of the bandage that was on it? Science! You can see the port poking out like a third, evil nipple.
Chemo round 2, through the port. That bib matches the intense butcher's apron thing the oncology nurse wears, in case of any unlikely spill. Chemo drugs are super toxic! Wouldn't want to get them on your shirt or skin or you know COURSING THROUGH YOUR BODY.
That second-to-last shot has Facebook profile pic written all over it.
4 comments:
are all you other nerds having comment error problems? i made a very witty comment that got eaten by blogger. i will try to recall and summarize.
1. pretty badass injuries.
2. something something bringing chemical weapons to the knife fight
3. trivia team news gets top billing above cancer surgery, i like it. buttonwood boys make a (nearly) triumphant return!
in my original comment i used capitalization but you know, time is money, people.
You look like a zombie lumberjack.
I don't know whats going on with that smirk in that second to last pic, but i love it.
Oh the scars :-) Yeah, the knife fight answer is way more interesting. Otherwise people might ask you if it's a hickey like they asked me. Last piece of creative writing to share with you:
Scar
“Is that a hickey,”
the photographer asked
on picture day
of my first year in high school.
My hand flew to my neck.
Red fury pulsed
scalding my fingers on contact
with the fleshy scar.
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