I was certain we'd come back waxing away on this blog one day. I was hoping that it wouldn't be this damn soon.
I have cancer. Again. We're Crushing The Tumour With Humour (CTTWH) for a third time, following previous Crushings in 2010 and 2017. Carol-Ann and I got word that my blood work was off over the summer. I had a Petscan on Sept. 28, and confirmation came from our hematologist Dr. Kerry Savage last Monday about a tumour on my L-1 vertebrate.
There's a radiation consult on Monday and we've been told to expect multiple zapping sessions designed to blast the thing to smithereens.
I'm in no pain. I was in unfathomable, indescribable pain the first two times. Prognosis seems good here. Dr. Savage says that there's been tremendous strides made in chemotherapy in my type of cancer -- I don't display in a typical fashion, so right now I believe I'm being classified as a third occurrence of a Solitary Plasmacytoma although there were times that the smart people we leaning toward tagging all this as a Multiple Myeloma -- but the thought is that the radiation will work, give me a few clean years and we can use the chemo somewhere down the line.
I had radiation in 2010. It blasted out the tumour that had infiltrated my T-2. It also demolished what was left of my T-2 and caused my back to collapse, leading to a bunch of surgeries and hospital.
Yeah, that's crossed my mind here. We'll try to get more answers Monday.
The second tumour was in the left leg, just above my knee. It led to a stem cell transplant in July 2017.
For now. I'll just roam around our house, belting out lines from The Firm's 1985 hit Radioactive.
I won't say if I have first hand knowledge or not, but based on how fast you go from clean shaved to five o'clock shadow - you should get your back waxed....
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