Now we wait (and enjoy a few random observations)

    As you know, I report for duty on Jan. 5 at MD Anderson.  I have labs and doctor appointments that day, then on Jan. 6, I go through my simulation.  This is where we draw a bead on The Little Bastard (see the previous post for the complete schedule).  Then it's a day or two before all is ready and we get to start blasting away with massive doses of radiation that combined with the chemo should literally fry the sucker.  Which made me think of my favorite comic strip, Calvin and Hobbes.  I've posted the appropriate frame to the right for your enjoyment.
    So if I've got a moniker for The Little Bastard, I guess we've just christened the radiation equipment "The Mertilizer."  I may have to print this cartoon up and see if they'll hang it on the wall.

My radiologist with an undoubtedly very expensive piece of equipment, getting ready to irradiate my backside.

    Back on to the subject though, which is waiting.  I do not like waiting.  Jan. 5 seems like FOREVER away.  Patience is not my strong suit.  Once I've decided something, I want it done NOW.  It must be a family trait that I inherited from my father.  He was notorious for going to a car dealer and coming home with a vehicle a very short time later with no discussion, or Sunday trips to a car lot, or brochures laying around or any of that.  And the suits - he wore a suit and tie to work every single day.  The man had a lot of suits (and still does).  We kids were pretty sure he walked into wherever it was that made his suits and said, "Got a suit?  I'll take it,"  And it was done.  So I want to be started with this yesterday, or earlier.  Not next Monday.  Now, dang it!
    Speaking of next Monday, I'll take a load off all of your minds and let you know that Joe is going with me.  You all win.  I was determined to drive down there by myself and "save" Joe for when I really needed him.  However, I was subjected to what amounted to an intervention the other night and suffice it to say, I won't be going alone.  It's probably a good idea.  Just don't tell Mary Ann & Debbie I admitted that.

Random observations

• The official ribbon for colorectal cancer is blue.  It should be brown.
• If I pin a blue ribbon to my back pocket, would it be a blue moon?
• Testicular cancer should get the blue ribbon.  I'll let you think about that one while I go on.
• Seriously, is there a more unglamorous cancer than colorectal cancer?!  Actually there is.  It's rectal cancer.
• I can not say the word "rectum," as in "the tumor is located in my rectum" without immediately flashing to the punchline from the highly junvenile joke, "Wrecked 'im?! Darn near killed 'im!"  The entire joke is here.  As an aside, in relating my history I had opportunity to repeat the word "rectum" to numerous medical professionals.  Inside, I was giggling every time, although you'll be proud to know I maintained a straight face.

There will undoubtedly be more of these little observational gems.  It may have to be a regular feature.  Tomorrow, we hit a little more scientific subject, my dietary approach.  But don't fret, there will be plenty of opportunity for continued irreverence.