Tag Archive for 'white blood cells'

Dave 3, Cancer 0

See, what cancer doesn’t understand is that I’m the home team, and I’m undefeated. Furthermore, I’ve got the best oncologist in town pitching, and the best chemo nurse anywhere who’s catching. My brother is at first, my other brother at third, my parents are sharing shortstop and second, and the WHOLE rest of the family is covering the outfield like a volleyball team. I’ve got friends in the stands, friends in the dugout, friends on the street, friends on the rooftops. I’m kicking the crap out of this cancer. It doesn’t even have a chance.

Tito has got to be so sorry he climbed in me. He’s getting one express ticket to Tumor Heaven. The loser better enjoy the ride, too, because the ticket set me back more than he’s worth.

It just goes to show, you can’t be friends with a tumor. You invite him over to dinner and before you know it – the guy’s living with you, eating your food and using your hemoglobin without asking. Sooner or later you’re paying some professional to evict this pathetic excuse for an organism. And it’s sad, ’cause the guy can’t even live on his own, he’s just totally dependent on other people. But you can’t blame yourself, you can’t take responsibility for his inadequacies. You just gotta let him go. I mean, what a loser, right?

Treatment #3 was good. They even gave me my own private room – how sweet is that? Like I was Liza Manelli looking for the VIP seating or something. The nurse is still cute, and again, I had no complications. They took my blood, and then I even went out for lunch while they did the labs.

The results of my blood test are miraculous. I have better results on my blood test now, after 4 weeks of chemo, than I did before I started. I’m happy to announce that I am no longer anemic. Before chemo, I had enough platelets for two people, but no longer. My white and red blood cells are right where they are supposed to be. Plus, I’ve gained 14 pounds since the beginning of treatment.

I guess its starting to be clear how sick I was. Man.

The nurse sort of squints and pauses for a minute…looks at me again…smiles, “You know, I’m sort of surprised you’re doing so well, too.”

I’m the HOME TEAM, baby! Bring it on!

I’ve found out something about myself during all this – well, I’ve found out many things, but this in particular: I am awesome in adversity, it’s monotony that kills me. Strap me up to the chemo IV, I’ll take the pain and the fatigue and I’ll keep smiling, but put me in a cubicle with a pile of paperwork and I’ll never live.

I slept through the Benedryl this time, and surfed through my classical music when I awoke. My parents came and read the news. News about people on the Gulf Coast that are so much worse off than me.

I was out of the Center by 4 and off to play piano by 5. Now, in all honesty, while I may be feeling particularly cocky tonight, I am not feeling particularly good. Chemotherapy is exhausting, and as I’ve said before, I feel like a truck ran over my soul. But I went to two rehearsals tonight anyway. And it’s probably because of the steroids, but my mind is blaring out of my mouth at Michael Schumaker speeds. I’m like a revved up little boy before bedtime. I don’t want to go to bed! Just ten more minutes!

I had a fantastic talk with a fellow member of the Cancer Club tonight, someone who is clearly a kindred spirit – someone who is totally on the same page as me. It was energizing to talk with her. She had an rare form of cancer, and the docs gave her 8 months to live. A year ago. This woman has some fire in her, and she blazed down her treatments. She says the chemo tore her apart, and she adds, quietly – so that, I imagine, other people won’t think she’s a nut – that cancer might be the best thing that ever happened to her. (Might be.) Amen. The air smells sweeter, the the sun shines brighter, etc., etc. I’m so glad to be alive.

So, I don’t expect to be feeling well on Thursday, Friday or Saturday. And part of me hopes that I lose my hair this time so I can just get it over with. I expect bone pain by Monday, and my immune system should fall by next Saturday. I’m ready to tank if that’s what happens. My head’s in the right place.