The Sins of Myself

When I was first diagnosed two years ago, I was pretty sure they were going to say "even though your only 27, the fact that you've drank like a pirate and smoked a pack a day for 7 years is why your fat ass is here". But that turned out not to be the case! My life of debauchery didn't give me cancer, awesome, so what did?

"It's a mutatation in your genes that happened to manifest now. It could have happened when you were younger, it could have happened when you got older, it just happened now".

Ohhhhh, a genetic mutation. I've seen movies about genetic mutations before. THe characters didn't get cancer, one of them shot fire from his eyes. One of the guys had claws and was indestructible for petes sake! How come my mutation didn't make me an X-Man? Better still since the X-Men don't exist, it would have turned me into an "F-Man" which is a thousand times cooler.

Side note. This was the first day me and my oncologist ever met

I can see thoughts running through her head, "is this idiot serious?" "I must have drawn the short straw to get this assclown for a patient", "did he really just refer to himself as an 'F-Man'"?

But being a true pro she laughed as she quickly realized I was bullshitting her and we've had a spectacular relationship ever since. She's one of the few people outside my "circle" (that sounds gay) that gets me and my humor. There are quite a few others, mainly people I went to school with who thought the guy who used to use the Wal-Mart paging system to ask "will Phil Atio please meet his party in the car, agan customer page for a Mr. Phil Atio, please meet your party at the car." If you don't get the joke, you should have paid attention in fucking class.

So again, cannot stress enough how awesome it is to have a doctor in a situation like that who gets you. It is also a huge bonus that her native language is English. I got no problems with the doctors I've met that work here who are from foreign countries, I just don't think they would have gotten my way of looking at things.

But I have digressed far too much, probably to the point of you wondering 'what the hell does this have to do with the title?" A litte so far but not a lot. I said earler that it wasn't my seedy drinking, smoking, steak eating, man whoring ways that gave me the cancer, it was genetic mutation. I didn't think about that much after my initial diagnosis, I spent two months in the hospital receiving daily spinal taps and other chemo treatments. After not responding to the original chemo, we flipped the script and went for the Stem cell/ Bone Marrow transplant. Although the process was hell the result was good. Things were looking up and it had only been less than a year! Hell I only hit one birthday (28) before the transplant.

Fast forward 10 months and it's mid July, I've been out each day at practice working with the players and honing my skills as the "ball coach" (your forgiven if you don't know what that is). Then strangely I started to feel like pure hell every day. Woke up one night and coughed a lung up into my trash can. When I woke up the next morning I was relieved to find out I did not actually cough a lung up, but instead had coughed up a bucket of blood. So back to the hospital for a CT scan. My doc came down after the scan and "yada yada yada, tumor's back, pushing on your heart and were admitting you".

After 3 weeks in and some awesome radiation treatments (NOT) the tumor was shrunk and we decided that infusions of donor cells would jump start the transplant and I could go back to kicking ass and making it rain touchdowns on our foes. Well we know how that turned out, we made very little rain and the infusions were lazier than my neighbors Puerto Rican gardner.

So as I sit here late night at the hospital again, it occurs to me, just why in the hell did my genes decide to mutate now. Hence the title of the post. They said my awesome and badass lifestyle didn't cause it. Was it God? As we can recall from the archives of this very site, I don't believe in God. So to me that can't be it. I've been in one long term relationship in my life, and I know I hurt her when I broke it off, was karma punishing me? I doubt it, she wasn't that nice to begin with, not to mention completely incompatable over the long haul. Did betting that a couple who's wedding I was at would last less than a year karma-fuck me? (FYI: I freaking nailed it, they divorced in 6 months) I doubt it, they're the ones who made a mockery of the institution of marriage (That was hard to type with a straight face).

The reason I'm trying to figure it out is because it's a puzzle to me. I clearly am no saint, and no one would ever claim I was. But I have done good things, and I plan on doing more good things. My first two friends who got married and had children failed me by producing girls, I can't turn a girl into the greatest quarterback the world has ever seen! But my best friend and his wife (also one of my best friends) have gotten themselves knocked up and I think were gonna geet lucky with this child and I will have a protege to teach the many intricacies of the forward pass too. I also turn 30 this year. I think that's supposed to be a big deal, but I plan on spending it playing craps and smoking a Cuban Cigar. (Shhhh, don't tell the authorities)

My doctor came in to see me today and we talked about if this treatment puts the cancer in "remission" than they have several donors lined up and ready to go. There is also a couple of clinical studies they can try to get in. The problem is that the studies are for ALL which is Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, while I have Acute Lymphoblastic Lymphoma, and evidently I'm the only motherfucker in the world who has it! Or so it seems. I'm sure there's some other folks with it too. The best part about seeing the Doc this morning was that it was just her and I so I could ask her questions that i don't ask when Mom is around because she doesn't need to hear them. Primarily, "what are my chances?" The answer to that question is immaterial though, as she explained if she said "your gonna live to be 80, I might not hit 30 this summer, and vice versa, if she says not good, I'll probably end up being a radio play by play announcer for a Canadian minor league baseball team in Manitoba when I'm 75. Living on scotch and Pall Malls (if they even make those anymore).

I guess this post was more of a way for me to ramble and wonder and hopefully make everyone who reads it laugh at LEAST three times during the stories. If your stuck on two then read below as I will tell you the greatest joke I know, warning it is rated R. All the way R. but not till the end.

Fred

The Joke

A young woman named Hariett is about to be married to her sweetheart Robert. The only problem is that Hariett is concerned about the size of her 'opening". She goes to her mother to discuss the roblem, "mother I am a virgin as is Robert but there is no way he will believe me when we go to consumate on our wedding night!"
Her mother says "Hariett, don't worry this is a condition that all the women in our family have, you can do the same thing I did when I married your father. Go to the store and buy some raw liver and position it in there and he will never know the difference"
Skeptical but willing to do anything Hariett follows her mothers advice. She and Robert are married in a beautiful ceremony and enjoy a lavish reception that nearly the whole town attends.
They then return to their new home and engage in EIGHT HOURS of lovemaking. When Hariett awakes in the morning she finds herself alone but with a note on the pillow next to her, and it reads,

My Darling Hariett,
Last night was the most incredible night of my life. To think that we almost ruined such a spectacular thing, it makes my heart sing that we waited until our marriage to consumate our love. I would be there with you even now, but I am already hard at work so I can earn enough money to build us that white picket fence which will be able to corrall our animals and give us a wonderful yard for the many many children I hope that we have. I miss you already and when the work day is over I will be home faster than the wind blows so that we can be together again.

Your devoted and loving husband,

Robert


P.S. Your CUNT is in the sink!

The Results of the dipshit test are in!

Well after one "day" of the new chemo regiment. 9-12 last night and 9-12 this morning, I have a day off until tomoroow night (Thursday). So far I have passed both dipshit tests with flying colors. Both are the same type of test, they give you a piece of paper and you have to write "I am a patient at Barnes Hospital" and then do it again before the next chemo to make sure your handwriting is staying close to the same. Those of you who have seen my handwriting know that this test is about as useful as a cock flavored lollipop. I write in hieroglyphics for gods sake. But whatever, I rock the business. The other part of the dipshit test is closing your eyes and holding your arms at your side and then touching your nose one finger at a time with your eyes closed. The best part of this test is how every single person here describes it, "it's kind of like the DUI test the cops give". To which I get to reply every time, "I've never had to take a DUI test you ingrates, I don't know what's involved!" Needless to say I crushed that part of the test, really taught it a lesson.

Even though I can only move half my face, I'm still doing pretty good with dropping the jokes down here. I think I'm nearing "preferred patient" status. I already had it on the 5th floor, and gained it on the 7th last month, and now if I add the 6th floor that locks up my trifecta of cancer floors. I wonder if they'll give me coupons. I don't know what the coupons would be for.... but I think it would be a classy gesture on their part. A classy gesture for a classy guy, that's only fair. I mean come on, we do live in America right?

That's it for today, as a wise man once said "if you shake it more than twice, you're playing with it".

I'm Baaaaaaaack

If you couldn't have guessed from the title of the post, i am back in the warm and loving embrace of Barnes Jewish Hospital. Only this time I've moved down a floor, from the 7900 genral cancer wing, to the 6900 Lymphoma/Leukemia wing.(hey, thats what I have!) Monday we met with my doctor and found out the results from my PET scan last Thursday. (the one I did not get a boner during)* The results weren't good, but they weren't necessarily bad. What it showed was that the week of Chemo they gave me, followed by 3 weeks of observation did not put the lymphoma into remission, which is what needs to happen before they try to perform another transplant. People sometimes get the wrong idea what "remission" means. In this case it doesn't mean cured it just means "stopped growing" or in a perfect world it has shrunk the various tumors some. So since that failed in spectacular fashion, and I use that term because of how long I was in the hospital and all the various bullshits I had to put up with. Not limited to, but including never hearing from the wonderful and beautiful night nurse. (I blame that on me leaving a day early and having to leave a note instead of being able to actually talk to her like the completely bald 6'1" lurch looking mother fucker that I am) Now I get to start a new treatment attempt.

THIS IS LUMBAR PUNCTURE!

Rob Reiner was dead on in his 1984 classic, Spinal Tap is a MUCH cooler turn of phrase than lumbar puncture. Hell, lumbar puncture sounds downright pussified. (If you've never seen "This is Spinal Tap, first finish reading this column, and then second, punch yourself, and third go find a copy and watch it) Anyway, I was admitted late yesterday because they had to wait for a bed to open up. This morning the treatment began. I had to have a "lumbar puncture" where they remove a couple vials of spine juice to make sure I have nothing neurological going on or any type of cancer in my nervous system. They had to do this because of the problems I had develop over the weekend. (We call this burying the lead) I started getting real bad headaches and then sometime during the night Saturday something hit me and on when I woke up Sunday the left side of my face was paralyzed. It still is, so when I smile only the the right side smiles and I can't wink with my left eye (and winking with my left eye is one of my main moves). Talking to the doctor on monday she thinks it is because of a mass of lymph nodes that showed up on the PET Scan originally in my brain area, and this latest PET scan showed it had grown a centimeter. So yes, I look like an idiot when trying to smile and I have trouble swallowing pills, but I'll get through it. Especially if the lumbar puncture comes back negative and the new chemo sets "remission" off the pressure should come off my brains and my face will be back to it's beautiful self.

The treatment they want to try is 6 courses of cytero-something or other, over 5 days. I'll start at 9 tonight then 9 a.m. then I get a day off. Then after the day off do the cycle again, another day off cycle for the final time and then a day or two of obseervation. The only issues with this chemo is that it can effect different parts of my brain as well so after each dose I'll have to do a bunch of "dipshit" tests. Like writing my name and putting my finger out and touching my nose, and other tests to prove I'm not a "dipshit". I can't wait to be declared "not a dipshit" or maybe it'll be cooler if get the dipshit label. Anyhow I think that's enough for now, I'll update the progress on the dipshit test tomorrow.

Fred

Returning to the PET Scan

One of the first articles I wrote was one about getting a PET Scan, and an unfortunantly timed (ahem) boner. Well tomorrow I get to go at 2 O'Clock and have another one to see what that mega-chemo did or did not do.

Read up on my previous misadventure here:

Allright, now we are up to speed. I get the standard robo-call today from the hospital reminding me that I had the appointment, nothing to eat or drink except water 8 hours beforehand. Then the robot said the most dangerous thing it could have, also "please wear loose fitting comfortable clothes". It's like the damn place is daring me to pop wood while being run through their machine. I'll be filled with the glucose injection along with the sugary drink. If I don't pee before I go into the machine I'll have a decently full bladder, the glucose in my veins, comfortable shorts and boxers, all of which are a great recipe to get, you guessed it, a boner.

I'm excited that I'm not banned from the PET Scan area for life. My only worry is, if the same lady I had the encounter with previously is there, do I pretend nothing happened before? Or should I inquire as to why she never came to help me "ease the tension" so to speak?

I put it to you fair readers, feel free to leave your comments below. I believe I have made leaving a comment as easy as humanly possible. You should just be able to put in a name and then comment. No signing in with google, or your email address. No more of those stupid ass words you have to decipher in order to prove your human. I get an email ever time there is a comment so if I see one that is spam I will just go and delete it.

All right peeps and tweeps it's your time to shine. You make the cll!

Fred

Getting discharged = Mini Christmas.

SO I was released Wednesday afternoon from Barnes Jewish Hospital. Besides the obvious best things of getting out of the Hospital after a month long stay. (fet to sleep in own bed, watch big scree, play a little xbox, nudie magazines if your into that sort of thing, etc....) There are several good thing most people don't realize till later. With me having a cancer that affects my immune system I always have a a room to myself, that is completely sterilized and filled with fresh supplies.

Now I hate to compare what I do with what people who steal everything that isnt nailed down when they checkout. But it's kind of like that. Except for when they tell you that everythig has to be thrown away. So I'm here to tell you what to take and what not to take.

The first thing you need to know is that you should never, ever, ever, steal the towels or washclothes. Once you use them you can just toss them in the wastebasket that is labeled "linens" and they will bring you fresh new ones each day. Pro Tip- take or have brought to you a couple of your towels from home along with shampoo and body wash, also don't forget the loofah. (That's right, I use a loofah, got a problem with that!) This way you can use the hospitals towels as a make shift floor mat for your showers. There is another reason you don't want to take the towels and wash cloths home with you, I'm fairly certain they are made with a combination of sandpaper and dried gravel. Just a lovely feeling when drying off.

The important things you want to take. This may sound like Captain Obvious speaking, but first and foremost make sure you have your shit packed up and ready to go. If you leave something like a laptop an don't realize it till the next day you need to call right away and see if anyone has located it. On a lot of the floors they provide a key for your bedside dresser/nightstand so you can lock your valuables up. You heard me right folks, there are areas of the hospital where people are willing to steal from very ill people. However that does not apply on the 7900 and 5900 areas, The Ladies and gentlemen are the best in the business.

So now we have all our shit packed and are waiting till the nurse comes back with the discharge papers. Which usually takes an hour or more, which is plenty of time to scavange for good items. Now remember, they have to throw everything away, and as they say "your paying for it anyway). I just like to call it stealing, and I'm the Hudson Hawk of stealing this kind of stuff from the Hospital. The essentials: TAPE, there will be all kinds of tape in your room. Take as much as you can find. That stuff can come in useful for any type of injury. Your kid could cut themselves and you can clean the are with the alcohol wipes (that you liberated from the hospital) then after getting the area disinfected you can make a nice bandage out of the gauze pads. (That you also liberated from the hospital) Then you can make sure that guaze stays in place with the aforementioned tape!

There's not much more worth taking, thre is the mouth wash and if your a chemo patient you will want and need this mouth wash for when your mouth and throat go to hell for a few days. If you've had the pleasure of having to be taped up multiple times, there are also anti-sticky wipes and also bottles of sticky remover that you can put on the guaze pads. Which we stole last paragraph. Using the sticky remover with the guaze pad should create a perfect bandage for free! The hospital already charges you and your insurance enough, just consider yourself Robin Hood. Although I doubt any of us could shoot and arrow like that guy could. He had Middle Ages Swag.

Only a day away

Here we are on April 3rd and I am two days away from having spent an entire month in the hospital. However, I get some antibiotics tomorrow through the IV and then will be released into the wild that afternoon. So that leaves tonight as the last chance to seal the deal with the night nurse. It's gonna take all my talents focused as one to get the job done. Luckily for me, I have a lot of different talents and they're all awesome. I'll use my humor combined with my rugged good looks to keep her captivated. Then I'll use my flattery skill and then finish off by busting out my SWAG!




There is no way any single ladies can resist that high level of SWAG. Only one thing would stand in my way and that's if she doesn't work tonight. But I haven't seen her in several days, so she is more than likely ready to come back on the schedule. It's time to finish off these IV's and get busy doing the move!

A Question of Faith

The first time I was diagnosed was two years ago this month. It didn't really sink in right away, because the tumor in my chest was pushing on my heart. The next day I had to go to Christians Hospital and they did some echo's which showed the tumor was causing the sac around my heart to be ten times the size it should be. So the very next day they performed whats called a paracardio window to drain the fluid and then later that night they transferred me to Barnes. So I didn't go through the shock that most people do when finding out they have cancer because when I found out, it was like a whirlwind of action and I didn't have time to think about it.

I ended up getting a bone marrow transplant in October of that year.(2010) Went through many Dr. appointments over the following months where my blood counts kept coming back fine and everything looked good. Then one night in July I had a terrible couging fit where I was coughing up stuff into my trash can. I finished coughing rolled over and went back to sleep. When I woke up I looked in the can and it was filled with blood. Contacted my Oncologist and she got me in that day for a CT scan to see what the problem was. They had me waiting after the scan to get the results and my Doc came down and pulled me into a side room. She told me that my tumor had reactivated and I needed to be admitted the next day. This time finding out, after assuming that everything was gonna be ok because the transplant is supposed to cure you, it hit me like a giant punch in the stomach. So much so that as I was leaving, I had to stop and throw up in one of the plastic plants they have on the 3rd floor of the CAM (my bad Barnes, you can bill me for it). I even threw up when I got out to the parking garage. Next day I was admitted and started radiation and chemo. Once done it had knocked the tumor into submission, and the only thing left was to undergo a series of 3 DLI's (Donor Lymphocyte Infusions). They are done in order to jump start the bone marrow transplant and have it hopefully get back to work and finish off the lymphoma. I had my last DLI on January 6 of this year. All my follow up appointments and blood counts were going good.

But we all know what happened next, I got a viral infection and they gave me another CT scan and found that the tumor in my chest was still with lymphoma and they also found new masses under my arm, in between my diaphragm and lung, and in my stomach. So I'm nearing a month in the hospital but should be released soon.

However, I'm just giving you background information. I have been mulling this column idea over and over in my head for well over a week now. It's a question I've mulled over for nearly two years now. The question that I've been asking myself and struggling with is, "what should I say or do as an atheist when people tell me they are praying for me or that I'm on their prayer list"? If you've ever been seriously hurt or ill, or had a loved one who was sick, then you know how often people say these types of things to you.

I originally would always just nod and say thank you. I always felt a little awkward because I appreciated it even though I don't share their faith, but I felt like I was wasting peoples time. If God is real and I am a nonbeliever are they wasted prayers? Could that time be spent on someone more worthy than me?

Recently I've had a sort of epiphany. When someone tells you they are praying for you, I realized that, that is literally the nicest possible thing they can do for you. If a person believes and God and the power of prayer, praying for someone is better than anything else people can do for you. So I no longer nod my head ad say thanks, i thank them profusely and if it's in person I'll give them a big old hug. My personal beliefs still haven't changed, but I think that now I have a greater understanding of what it really means to have someone praying for you. I do continue to explore the bible and religious websites, almost nightly I try a little prayer hoping that maybe I will feel something that changes my belief. So far that has not happened. i also want to state that if things don't go my way I will not be a death bed convert, I think if God exists he would see that as someone just trying to hedge their bets.

I guess what I want to say to everyone, I truly appreciate your prayers regardless of my personal beliefs. I understand what it means to you, and that makes it mean the world to me. So my sincere thanks to everyone who has me on a prayer list.

Fred


P.S. tomorrow we will try to get back on the funny train, I've got a few stories from the weekend, but I was having such problems with my hands I coudn't even try to type.

The Good, The Bad, and The Benadryll

I remain in the hopital for what is now the 22nd day. After the 5 days of chemo they have to keep me under observation while they wait for my blood counts to rebound, specificaly white blood cell counts (why's it gotta be white cells, thats racist dog) and my platelet level, and one other level that I can neither pronounce, nor attempt to spell.

When undergoing a high powered chemo treatment, almost everyone needs a blood transfusion 0or 2, or 3) at some point. Yesterday my levels were low enough that I needed to get two bags of blood infused. The process is simple, they hang the bags hook them to your port and turn the machine on. It's what happens before that is awesome. They give you "pre-meds" that help your body take the transfusion. The first pre-med is tylenol, harmless we've all had it. The second pre-med is Benadryl. I'm sure most of us have had Benadryl in our time, its a very common over the counter drug that can cause drowsiness. BUT have you ever had liquid Benadryl injected into your IV line?

I didn't think so. So the liquid Benadryl immediately makes you drowsy, not go to sleep drowsy, but the "I'm at WoodStock kind of drowsy. Combine the liquid Benadryl with the cocktail of pills I'm already on (and had taken only 20 minutes earlier and you can see my predicament. Each bag of blood takes 2 hours to transfuse so I had a 4 hour trip I got to take in my bed to worlds and galaxies I had never visited before. It was a magical fun time of sunshine unicorns and rainbows!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilsK7hyEuFI&sns=em

Keeping the Humor up through side effects

Since I finished the 5 straight days of chemo last week they have had to keep me locked up here to monitor my blood counts. For a short refresher, the white blood cells affect your immune system so sending me home is not an option because of the risk of infection.

Regardless of that, with the treatment I am on the receiving end of the doctors said I am going to get an infection or two no matter what. So over the weekend the side effects finally hit. The first was the inside of my mouth feels like it's been rubbed completely raw and my lips have more cracks than all of Harlem. (bazinga) I have no problem with eating soft foods until this clears up but the biggest inconvenience is that it hurts when I talk too much. As many of you know, I LOVE the sound of my own voice. In fact the only thing I like more than the sound of my voice, is other people hearing the sound of my voice. My melodious tone is music to peoples ears and they are unfortunately being deprived of this delight at the moment.

When I mentioned that to my dear sweet mother today her response was "They are all probably thanking God that you have trouble talking, since you can never shut up".

Seemed a little harsh I thought, so I took a poll. I asked around and word was spread and the following were the results:

Pro-Fred Talking: 70%
Anti-Fred Talking: 10%
Who the hell is Fred: 20%

Clearly I need to get over this infection so I can entertain the 70% and at the same time raise my profile so that I have 100% name recognition. I did have an idea of walking down to the family lounge in just my boxers (sans pants) so that the ladies could get a cheap thrill and the ones who didn't know me would ask, "who is that"? Then they would all know my name is the Fred.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Are you jerking off? (questions people actually don't ask)

The following events took place Wednesday the 21st of March 2012.

So, yesterday morning the folks who work here came in later than normal so I was able to sleep in a tad. Saw the doctor around 9:30 and a few minutes later the housekeeper knocked and wanted to clean so I obliged. Having just woken up I was still in bed trying to orient myself and fully wake up while she mopped the floor. The door is wide open and I notice two of the nurses are about to walk in for the morning assessment. Which is routine. However, what happened next was farrrr from routine.

I hear one of them say, "hey, are you jerking off in here?" I spit the water I was drinking out all over the place and start coughing as they stroll in. The first nurse starts making conversation, and I immediately stop her.

"What did you say?" I asked. She gives me a puzzled expression. I tell her "did you just ask if I was jerking off before you came in the room?" the housekeeper, who has been mopping and cleaning the ENTIRE TIME drops her mop and starts laughing her ass off. Quickly followed by both nurses erupting into side splitting laugh

"No Fred, I asked her if she was MOPPING in here". That's when it hits me, all the pills and chemo drugs have caused me to lose my fucking mind. So everyone is laughing their asses off and I'm asking questions. "what kind of degenerate jerks off in a hospital?" "who would do that!?" Quickly finding out from them that in fact, all kinds of degenerates jerk off in hospital rooms.

Which makes me 100% certain that I never want to see this room in a black light. Of course when the shift change occurs they tell the night nurse assigned to me (my partner in crime you read about in an earlier update) and since she and I get along so well, the rest of the night was a breeze. I was eating dinner and she comes in with pills and first thing she says? "you eating or jerking off?" it was a question she asked every time she showed up.

The moral of this story is if you THINK someone asked you if you were banishing white Russians from your Kremlin, they actually weren't and you should pretend you didn't hear a fucking thing.

For the record if you jerk off in the hospital you are in fact a degenerate and they ought to be allowed to sterilize you immediately.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Finishing the first five. (staying sane while chemo'd and confined)

Coming to you LIVE from the Center for Advanced Medicine at Barnes Jewish Hospital in the greatest city ever St. Louis, Missouri.

Last night I finished the first 5 days of treatment in the soon to be filmed "Fred vs Lymphoma 3" (catchy tag line pending). This first five has not been too bad at all from a physical standpoint. I'm still eating well, looking dapper and swag as usual. I get two days off for continued observation and blood counts. I'd go into detail, but I don't even know what the hell it is they monitor for.

The plan then is another 5 on then 2 off, and rinse and repeat one more time. So that puts the hospital stay at 3 weeks total with a projected release day of Easter. I would never be brazen enough to suggest a fake boulder to be put in front of my door if I am released on Easter. But if someone wanted to help pull off that practical joke, I would of course engage in aforementioned shenanigans. (I make all types of jokes, nothing is off limits)

The key to maintaining your sanity in a situation like this is to have fun with your environment. How do you have fun with your environment at a hospital? I'm so glad you asked! The most obvious way is to make friends with the nurses. Don't be an ass of a patient. Lots of people are much worse off than me or you. And if your like me, you make friends with ALL the nurses not just the single hot ones. The other nurses then act as your surrogate without you having to do anything.

Observe:


Today during the day I gave everyone free tickets to the "Gun Show". The talk was all the rage and permeated from the day shift to the night shift. So inevitably one of the young medical professionals came down and asked me about it. Word quickly spread to the rest of the staff and my profile of "World's most upbeat Cancer patient" was officially set in stone. (small caveat, being the youngest patient on the floor by 20 years has given me a built in advantage.)

My cohort from the other night came in and hung out to help me scheme and plan to eventually get a date with one of her coworkers. While that might sound strange, look at it this way: everyone here thinks I'm hilarious and really sweet. ( I am in fact hilarious, and I love sweets. So 50% isn't bad) So tomorrow I'm going to dress in normal clothes instead of standard gym apparel since I will be free of the machines. And free from the machines I can wander about as I please. So I will get pictures of me overflowing with swag around the hospital. I'll also be performing my favorite activity (and one that makes the ladies swoon) by going down and entertaining kids and their families in the Children's Hospital here. There is nothing, and I mean nothing that is more fun than getting kids and their families to laugh here. So hopefully this afternoon or evening I'll have another post up with me checking swag levels all over this place and maybe some photos with recently entertained families.

The only sure thing is that tomorrow, I will wear sleeves. I promise.

Again anytime someone wants to visit there are only two rules: hit me up first so I can let you know if it's a good time, and number two:

pants are optional.

Location:Parkview Pl,St Louis,United States

The things we see (that make us say Holy Shit!)

I'm sure that any hospital in North America is filled with things and people that make us drop our jaw. One of these is a certain item the patient in the room next to me has outside their room.




So that's a pretty standard sight, a wheelchair in the hospital on a cancer treatment floor. Fairly routine actually, lots of people have used them myself included. But it is upon further examination that me and my crack team of researchers realized something was amiss.




As we see in exhibit #2 both Curt and Clark have sat in said wheelchair together. Almost like they are on the front porch swing of Forrest Gump's moms house waiting on a nice glass of lemonade. As we get farther along, you will notice these normally stoic business-like gentleman can barely contain their laughter.




We notice my colleagues growing bigger smiles, as I had to rapidly take their picture because both were in severe danger of urinating themselves and soiling the wheelchair and themselves. I'm not sure what we are to take away from this, but maybe it should be profound? Although I'm thinking it's more of a standard life lesson: if you weigh enough to need a double wide wheelchair, do not be surprised when you get cancer and/or diabetes. Start losing weight now, before the doctors lose the weight for you by chopping off your feet!
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A three hour (week) tour

The verdict is in, and I'm going to be going back to a heavy Chemo regiment. Started last night around midnight, its a combo of 2 different drugs that only medical professionals can pronounce. So with the new treatment jacking up my blood counts they want to keep me for 3 weeks. I am now referring to myself as the "Skipper" and the 7900 wing is my S.S. Minnow. If the Minnow was filled with geriatrics that eat pudding at 4:30 and then go to bed. Someone has to tell these geezers, the cafeteria does NOT have an early bird special!

But I digress, met with my doctor this morning and she explained the treatment and why I have to be here so long. She did say that I might get moved to the 5th floor when a room opens up. Which would be nice, as they have flat screens in each room and right now my TV is a 13" zenith, circa 1985.

Now to the real news if the past 12 hours. Last night I attempted to institute a new plan, entitled:
The (attempted) Seduction of the Night Nurses.

Two awesome nurses I've had at night were both on duty last night. One blonde, one brunette, I had to carefully decide how I was going to approach the logistics of this dream/nightmare. As I found out one of them is actually married my battle plan was formulated. The married nurse was the obe who was scheduled for my room. So I took advantage of that by using my immense charm and humor to entertain, knowing full well that women love to gossip. (a generalization I know, but face it ladies you love to gossip. It's been proven in a scientific journal I never read)

So on a not busy evening my nurse spent a lot of time in here talking and telling plenty of jokes. Built in advantage was of course that I am the youngest patient on the floor by 20 years. So I of course am the only one awake after Matlock gets over at 9. So with a little embellishment and dramatic flair I talked up my life and accomplishments. Maybe I didn't save as many orphans from a fire as I claimed, but who among us doesn't stretch the truth when dealing with the outside sex? Especially when it was a difficult mission of impressing one girl, in order to impress another. Things went well I believe as my nurse did come in later and tell me the other young lady was indeed available. She however did not come in to chat, because of course there are laws/oaths that discourage said contact. But those go out the window when the patient is released. So the groundwork has been laid, my "preemptive strike" appears to have cleared some area so I can get headway onto the mainland. The key now is to keep it chill, while also showing my swag. I'm accomplishing that task by watching badketball, but also wearing one of my sleeveless football shirts. So even though I'm whiter than Caspers ghost, the gun show is in full effect. The NRA has nothing on me. (NRA= National Rifle association, not Nation of Retarded Assholes (Iran)). So the surge will continue, I do unfortunately lose my ally as she is off for the next 3-4 days, but it could be a blessing in disguise. Whoever takes over tonight could be on board with the plan, or I could be assigned to the primary target which would lead to tons of small talk and innocent chit chat. And of course that lets people get to know each other better since beauty is only skin deep and all that other self esteem crap people use when they try to set you up with someone ugly, man or woman. Worst thing you can hear before a set-up "he/she has a GREAT personality" remember kids the harder they stress the personality the more likely your potential dates resembles Quasimodo. (if you don't know who that is, you should have paid attention in fucking class)

I'm out for now, but I have an idea of a photo essay here on the blog tonight. There are things here that must be seen to be believed and I will provide your eyes!

An Inconvenient Boner

Not much progression today on the Prognosis/Treatment front. I did however have a PET Scan this afternoon. A fairly routine and simple type of scan that shows doctors where the infection or cancer or whatever your being scanned fire is located at. I personally like that its a PET scan, as cats have had a monopoly on the scanning business for as long as I can remember.* So kudos to the other household pets for getting in the imaging business!

Even though it is a fairly routine and typical exam, I try not to do anything by the book. Between the 15-20 minute mark as I was sliding in and out of the machine I suddenly felt my crotch heating up. My immediate reaction in my head was "please dear lord, don't tell me I just peed on myself". Feeling no wetness I relaxed and realized it was the glucose injection and the machines rays warming me up. About 90 seconds later the scan was done and the nurse came in to help me up out of machine. I stood and did a full stretch backwards and at nearly there same time the nurse and I realized I was sporting a giant (by my standards) erection. She said "looks like YOU enjoyed the scan", and since she said it fairly condescendingly I did not apologize. I did however inform her what room I was in and if she knew any techniques to help sheer was more than welcome to stop by and help.

Needles to say, I'm no longer allowed in that area of the hospital.

Swag check: Still High

The return of the return of the Lymphoma

A brief intro. My name is Fred Fierce and I was/am a cancer survivor. I always get confused about who is considered a survivor or not. Am I a survivor because I'm still alive even if I have cancer still? What about people who get cured but relapse, do they get survivor status revoked by the ACS? Who knows, more importantly, who gives a shit!

The purpose of this new blog is to tell stories of the last two years, and more importantly tell stories of what is coming next. I will also do my best to make this the funniest blog about cancer you have ever read. I'm gonna make you laugh till you cry. Hell one of my stories may make someone cry outright. Which is OK, if your a lady. If your a man crying, grow a set and at least keep it out of public for gods sake. There might be women around wondering who there pussy crying is, good luck getting laid after that!

Anyway, I decided to start this now because of the most recent development. In October 2010 I underwent an allogenic stem cell transplant (I'll explain that process in a later post). In July of 2011 my tumor was found to have come back, and it came back like Sam Jackson in pulp fiction "with great anger and furious vengeance". Got heavy radiation to shrink it, and then we scheduled a series of 3 infusions of donor cells. I had the last one on January 6 of 2012. This past week I was admitted with a wicked respiratory virus. They did a CT Scan and found two new lymphoma masses in brand new spots.. So my doctor came in (on a Saturday!! Did I mention she rules?) and we talked about how her and the brain trust were going to figure out a new treatment course. Which confirmed my suspicion that the transplant had indeed failed, and the last 2 years were now moot.

My immediate thought was actually in an English accent and went something like " my old nemesis lymphoma, we meet again after I have dispatched you twice. The third time will not be your charm". So the battle begins anew, Helms deep is safe but now all our hopes lie with two little.... Wait, thats Lord of the Rings, my English accent always puts me in that mode. My next post will be a recap of the first couple of days from two years ago. I rely a lot on reader feedback so people can let me know what they want to hear more of and  I'll cater to the customer. Even though its free and you cheap bastards will never have to pay me anything. (unless you want to of course, only idiots turn dorm free money)
Reach me at the following
Email: fredfierce@yahoo.com

Twitter: @fredfierce

Or go outside in the St. Louis area and walk around yelling FRED!!! A bunch of times, maybe like Batman I'll hear you. Hey stranger things have happened. Something called a Snookie is famous in this country, odds on finding me by hollerin' are probably equal to her getting famous.