The hair on my butt is growing back but the hair on my head isn't. Such is the life of me. Sorry to not have written but I was in dispose, as in curled up in a ball wishing that bad nausea demons would run away. Today they did but they'll probably be back.
I've started my proton radiation treatment. I talk about Star Trek and how the other guy would always die and never Spock, McCoy or Kirk and why would a recon party be sending a doctor and only two or three other people? Why would they need a doctor on a planet when you could just beam the person up if they got ill. Plus, he's carrying a laser gun and according to the Geneva Convention, medical personnel shouldn't be carrying firearms. The radiation people just look at me funny.
I lay on a bed for an hour. Enclosed is a picture of the monstrosity. I have to be still for the whole hour. And ladies, I'm shirtless too. It doesn't hurt much. I get a headache but that could be because they play all oldies music. Best of oldies too. So far, I've been able to enjoy the musical libraries of Poison, REO Speedwagon, Van Morrison and Gordon Lightfoot. Nothing quite like the weirdness of hearing Gordon Lightfoot while getting millions of molecules of radiation beamed into you. And although it is incredibly tempting, you can't start that toe a tappin when you hear, "Sun down, you better take care..."
It should only take about fifteen minutes but they're shooting four different areas. I keep hearing, "Wow, you're a pretty extreme case...but I've seen worse." The last part is supposed to make me feel better and I applaud the effort but it doesn't. I feel like I got an F on a paper and the prof is basically saying that I'm not the dumbest person he's ever met.
I sort of got the breakdown of what proton radiation is and it basically kills the stuff you want to kill and doesn't kill as much of the stuff you don't want to kill. Like lungs and hearts. Being in advertising, I've long lost my heart. And if you've seen my ruthlessness on display while playing the game Sorry, you would certainly agree. Many have sobbed uncontrollably while I send them back to home base yet again.
The Rotary House hasn't changed. I don't think it ever does. My wife was exactly correct in describing it as a retirement community. Tonight they had Wii games and Bingo. I really wanted to trash talk my way through a mean Wii bowling game but had to pass as it was the same time I got zapped.
I'll be doing this until August 20th. When you "graduate", you get a certificate and get to bang this big gong. The last time I got a certificate I was finishing up the first round of chemo way back when they said I wouldn't have cancer again, a year ago. I puked on it.
The late end date means I'll probably miss the birth of my daughter. So far, only one of you fellas has volunteered to sit in. A bunch of you gals have which makes me wonder about your preferences, but hey, eventually we'll be more excepting of your kind and let you people get married legally. So basically, we'll be birthing old school with the woman in the birthing room and the dad somewhere off at a bar or something. In this case, the Rotary House lobby.
Now that I'm feeling better, I'll try to update happenings more often. Thanks to everyone for wondering if I was okay. The answer is no, I wasn't okay but now I'm better. Some of you have wondered more passionately than others. Sara Leopold took the opportunity to make fun of me which isn't very nice.