We're off to see the Wizard...

Technically, she's an Oncologist, not a wizard. They're pretty similar, minus the wand and plus a few years of school in a place way less cool than Hogwart's. What I'm trying to say is that I'm going to NYC for a consultation with a Dr. at Memorial Sloan Kettering Hospital. 

 A quick aside: Somebody in marketing should point out that the word "Memorial" should never be used in hospital literature, let alone in the freaking name of the place. What were they thinking? It's like saying "Hi, welcome to Bankruptcy Financial, how can I screw you?" or, "Our special today at Sushi Parasite Palace is the fatty tuna."

We're not expecting to hear anything different from the wizard  Dr., but she may be aware of some trials that would be good to know about should our planned treatment not give us the results we're looking for. 

Let me back up for those who are just catching up. The fine folks at Emory did finally determine that  the pain I've been having in my lower back and left leg since October was from cancer, and the source was colon cancer, even though I've had 5 years of clean colonoscopies, not to mention living a red-meat free lifestyle since 2003. Makes me want to march down to the Varsity and have them walk me a couple dogs. 

I liked the people at Emory. Most of them were great. But when you have the attitude I do about my cancer, namely "bring it on be-yatch, I'm a freaking P90x-ing, marathon running 44 year old bad ass, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you take me out of the game," you want the medical oncologist in charge of your care to put on the Maori War Paint and do the Haka when he comes in the room. (No idea what I'm talking about? Rent Invictus, or click here - then rent Invictus). The guy at Emory just doesn't have it in him. Nice guy, brilliant I'm sure, but he's no warrior. 

So I'm now with Dr. Steve Szabo at Georgia Cancer Specialists. While his Northeastern Jewish upbringing makes him far more likely to Hora than Haka, I still like his attitude.  And Marcie loved the fact that the first thing on which he focused during our 45 minute initial consult was my pain and what he could do to get me feeling better, as in immediately. He prescribed me some cool new meds (which Adele had recommended to me a week month earlier - props to her, and yes, that strikethrough is b/c she corrected me) which really have helped. I can now sit to work or, hopefully, fly on an airplane, two things that were out of the question 3 weeks ago. 

Today was my 10th and final (for now) radiation treatment on my pelvis. They gave me a certificate today, as if I had graduated from Radiation High and was now ready to enter into the College of Chemo. It was actually a nice gesture by the radio techs, who also gave me pointers on removing the blue tattoos that encircle my waistline. The techs use these lines like a pilot would landing lights, I guess. Good thing they never slipped off the runway. The last thing I need is any shrinking of any other parts down there! 


Warning - Bowel Movement Joke Ahead The promised radiation side effect of loose stools never really won out over the constipation-inducing Morphine. Guess I'll have to double up on the Metamucil (I'll take "Things I Never Thought I'd Hear Myself Say Before I Turned 70" for $200, Alex) . 

Barring any changes from our meeting in NYC, I'll start chemo next week. Anybody hanging out in Lawrenceville with 4 hours to kill, let me know. But you'll have to bring your own Hardy Boys books 'cuz I'm not sharing!

I'll try to use this space to keep friends and family posted on my progress. I'm happy to hear from all of you, especially if you have encouraging stories to share about others who've given the middle finger to the medical odds-makers. Or pictures of kittens, those are nice too.