Something new today - there's a volunteer in the house! Her name is Betty and she's passing out blankets like they're going out of style. Actually, they are kind of out of style already, but that's not important right now.
They are trying to wean me off of Dr. Z. For the second time in a row I saw his PA first, and then was asked if I wanted to see him too. I don't really mind, because in the past I've been that patient who benefitted from the extra time this approach creates in his day. It's all good.
I've made plans to return to Memorial Sloan Kettering later this month. Adam's coming with me and we're making a long weekend of it. I'm just doing a follow up with the Wizard and some genetic work to see if we can figure out why I'm the only one of my 11 cousins on my mom's side who's gotten colon cancer even though all of our parents had it. Shallow end of the gene pool, or maybe the gene pond.
My uncle Joel, the only surviving member of that generation, thinks there may be something to my theory that growing up in the cesspool known as Bayonne, NJ may not have helped the Tasman clan in developing immune systems.
Today's short session is about half over. Avastin down, Zometa to go.
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