Posts Tagged "radiation"

My Wobbly Bicycle, 18

Posted by on Apr 3, 2013 in Archive | 16 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 18

Yesterday morning we were in a snow-globe of lake-effect fluff, drifting all over. It was beautiful. To me these days, most things are, well, a revelation, meaning that being alive is—shall I say just great? That sounds so Panglossian. I mean it’s all okay, snow or sun, no joke.  It’s April 3. Melting snow is soaking some moisture down where it needs to be, after our dry, dry summer last year. The tart cherries should be good this year. And our two good friends, Myrna and Joan, from Traverse City got married in D.C. yesterday after 20 years living as a committed gay couple with no...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 15

Posted by on Mar 13, 2013 in Archive | 16 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 15

This week has been, well, not so easy. I had a vitrectomy (My spell-check wanted to call it a vasectomy, but no.). My eye has been a bit sore, fuzzy, and I’ll have a large gas bubble in front of my vision for the next few weeks. But it’s done! And it needed to get done now rather than later.Imagine me typing this in 18-point just so I can see it. And my face two inches from the keys. Then, radiation of my upper pelvic region, which includes my stomach, has made me nauseous and gastrically disturbed. My radiation doctor gave me Friday off because I looked so peaked, and I missed most of a...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 13

Posted by on Feb 27, 2013 in Archive | 19 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 13

I’m on my back. The red laser-beams have me in their cross-hairs. I’m staring up at where four ceiling tiles have been replaced with light-permeable photographs of an autumn scene, a creek flowing around a rock, rocks on the bank with yellow leaves plastered against them, a yellow forest behind. All is in flux. Or, this too will pass. I try to think what’s meant, who chose this yellow autumn scene instead of green spring or high summer. The autumn of life, maybe. Nah. The foot-thick door is shut with only me inside. The machine circles and steadies itself before it starts up with its...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 11

Posted by on Feb 13, 2013 in Archive | 22 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 11

Every week an adventure. Monday I met with the radiation team to get “mapped” for radiation, which starts a week after my next chemo. Either I still haven’t gotten used to living in the Midwest, or hospital staff everywhere are preternaturally sweet. The nurse in charge hugs me. The vile dye mixture I must drink goes down with her tender solicitations. Another dye is intravenous. Then I’m on the CT bed, my feet held slightly apart with a piece of foam and rubber banded together so they won’t move. I’m lying on a mat that, when deflated, holds my midsection in position. My hands...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 2

Posted by on Dec 11, 2012 in Archive | 33 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 2

I’m gathering information, deciding between joining a clinical trial group or not (decided not), getting a CAT scan, looking online at wigs and caps, preparing for my 3-4 month blast of chemo and radiation, the vicious murder of all fast-growing cells in my body. In battle-mode, people say. She’s “fought” her cancer. After a long “battle” with cancer, he succumbed. I’m interested in the language. How fiercely we want to survive. Of course we do. I do. The cancer is in my lymph nodes. Not what we’d wanted to hear. I love it that my friends want to pull their light-swords...

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