Yesterday morning, the army of ICE began a second offensive against the evil Empire of Cancer. Sorties began softening both the right and left side of my chest, with immediate results expected to be seen on the softer right flank.
Michael didn't take too well to the first wave of action. He puked all over a Korte Company t-shirt, going about six rounds until they found a cocktail that can hold everything in so far. Nobody laughed at the weird sounds. Michael's wife was back at the hotel room sleeping but would have laughed a little if she were here.
The troops are still amassing at the border. It takes about three days to get it all inside Michael's body and then, hoo-boy, watch out. That's when the fun begins.
Still, cancer remains defiant. "We will fight the infidels with all our single-celled might. We like it here. It's warm. There's plenty to eat. And this man usually eats pretty good food. We feel confident we can hold off the chemo-bambies."
Spirits remain high on the other side as well. Michael has been bouyant ever since watching the Turkish version of Wheel of Fortune. Unlike American Wheel of Fortune where basically people from the middle of Missouri try to spell their way to success, the Turkish version features hot twenty-somethings dressed like they were going out for a night of their fortune with spelling and guessing seemingly a n annoying side show. It's a mix between Caliente, the Bachelor and Press Your Luck. This seen makes Michael want to experience more in life.
A couple of setbacks have beset the army of the good, however. Michael has lost almost all his hair again. His wife is calling him Patchy. That usually causes Michael to respond that he wants more "care" out of his "Care-giver" and so far she's only getting a "C" grade.
Also, Michael misses his kids. He appreciates all the people who have offered to babysit during the expected rough and tumble days of late March and early April.
Attached is a picture of what a loving Care-giver/Care-givee relationship should look like. I'm the old person. Actually, the old person looks a little younger than me right now.
Glad to hear that Mistress Sherri made it in. Hopefully she's travelling with her special suitcase full of all sorts of things to take one'e mind off of chemo.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of chemo, I thought that as long as you were telling puke stories, I'd share a few from Wisconsin. We begin our trip down memory lane with Rossi who was kind enough to have his first bout with the beer demons the night before we had a midterm in geology. Instead of studying rocks, I got to hold his head out of the garbage can and study the contents of his stomach. Not to be outdone, a few short weeks later I managed to not only puke up a few extra beers in the shower, but to continue drinking in an effort to replace what I had lost. Of course who could forget your triumphant return from a weekend in Champaign attending Farm Aid? Other than you of course. As I recall, there were enough items consumed to not only have you puking, but to also leave you sleeping the sleep of the undead for over 20 hours. We seriously considered holding a mirror to your nose/mouth to make sure you were still breathing. I could go on for quite some time on this topic, but I feel that at some point it may seem like overkill.
Good to hear that round two has begun. At some point just being stuck in Houston would probably be as bad as the chemo.
How are things back in Illinois you ask? Cold, not like walking to class in Wisconsin cold, but cold enough that one has to ask why any of us would choose to live here. If it's not the weather or the beautiful view of flat land as far as the eye can see, what could it be? I'll tell you what it is, we're all stupid. Anyone with any sense and the means to get the hell out of here would do so. Yet we all stay. I believe our mothers all dropped us on the same patch of frozen water as babies and the stupid just became lodged deep inside our heads where it can't escape. As I've tried to explain to my wife after saying something really stupid in a "discussion" that I was losing, it's not my fault I said that, it's just the stupid leaking out a little at a time. Perhaps some day, I'll be smart enough to move to Houston.