"that's only for the really sick people!"

at the meeting with the radiologist today, I was given a packet with a picture of a couple on the front who are so supposed to be my age, a dozen pages of glossy text, lined paper in the back to write notes on, and some pamphlets. one of the pamphlets listed counterindications for a great number of drugs during radiation...which I breezed over, since I am taking none of them...and the back page listed counterindicated foods, including some of my least favorite vegetables and some pretty choice fruits.

I had to ask Dr. Casey about it.

he said, "Don't worry about that. that's only for the really sick people."

that's the best thing anyone could possibly tell me.

other good news, to me, included the timetable...it looks like I may be starting the six weeks of five day a week radiation as early as a week from monday. sooner is better for the therapeutic effect, and also for my schedule, which is a lot more intense in June than it is in May.

it also included Dr. Casey's evaluation of how tired I am going to get come the third week (or 3 1/2) in.

he said, half the people don't report fatigue.

he predicted that I'll need to take a nap in the afternoon. but he said he didn't think I would not be able to perform. he said, if you're motivated to, you'll be able to.

the area in question is small, the radiation kind of confined.

he said, it would reduce the chance of recurrence by 50%.

I am always glad, gentle reader, when someone doesn't snow me, gives me the straight info without trying to put an unrealistically positive spin to it.

so I am going to tell you the worst of things as well as the best.

Dr. Nemechek, when I spoke with him today, used the phrase, "you're just beginning your journey through cancer."

wow.

he said it in regards to my asking him an impossible question..."how freaked out should I be?"

he said it was a great question.

it is very, very, very rare that a growth such as mine begins benign and turns malignant. he said there are only a few cases in all literature. so, he said, prognosis is not going to be easy.

I've had a lucky, lucky, lucky life, and this basically tells me there is no basis to believe my luck will change concerning treatment. but...the malignancy...a very low odds piece of misfortune.

he said, we do the radiation, and we wait. he said, there's no assurance, there's no peace...only the passage of time without trouble can relieve us to any degree.

I said, then, after the radiation, until something comes up...I'm healthy.

he said, that was the attitude to take.

I was on the phone making arrangements for the PET scan when Dr. Nemechek called...he jumped on the phone when I called back...but...I feel like I'm becoming a professional, career patient.

which has to stop.

and...I'm sorry if there is too much detail in here for anyone reading...this is somewhat of a therapeutic tool for me, and needs to be a place to vent...I still want to cope with all of this and get back to the important stuff, like whether the guitarist for Herman's Hermits stuffed a hanky in the strings to play "Mrs. Brown".

here's the other thing Dr. Casey said that I found funny. (I couldn't have gotten Kildare.)

I said, so, the PET scan is supposed to contain a considerable amount of radiation, isn't it?

he said, not compared to what you're going to be getting.

...................................never mind.

so, other than the dozen or so physical things I was paying attention to before this all hit, and other than my actual life, which is listening to background music while on hold, here are the levels I see things taking:

1. I continue my recovery from the surgery, which could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be going better

2. I commence and commence recovering from the six weeks of radiation.

3. I keep my eyes on the prize, on the skies, and on the MRI's, and until an alarm sounds, I am healed and healthy.

4. if the PET scan shows, as Dr. Casey deemed very unlikely, that the cancer exists anywhere else in this 60's lovin' body, then the radiation is called off, and it's going to be time to get really tough..."agressive" as the pair'o'docs say...like chemotherapy.

the PET scan is tomorrow. Dr. Casey said they could have the results by late tomorrow...most likely, he said, Monday...none of that for Dr. Nemechek, who said he will be reading the film and calling me on Saturday. (how great is he, and how lucky am I)

but...check it out...

the PET scan operates on the premise that malignant cells consume sugar more quickly than normal cells...I think I had a malignant childhood...and that gamma rays attach according to sugar consumption (wasn't it gamma rays that made The Hulk?)

and...we get the gamma rays...from the annihilation that occurs when an electron meets a positron.

a positron, the existence of which was unknown before 1930, is the mirror image of an electron, but while an electron has a negative charge, a positron... you're way ahead of me.

positrons are the antimatter correspondents to electrons.

I know the lab guys have heard every possible Star Trek reference. "Scotty...we need more juice!" "if we don't get the DiLithium crystals out of the Matter/Antimatter chamber, she's gong to blow!!!"

all I know is, this is an awful exalted neighborhood to find myself in. if I got off on $3,000 cables, a $12,000 lab test is pretty inspiring.

and I need to close with this-

these last three days have been the best days in a month. whatever shadow this all brings, I feel great. not taking so much as a tylenol. starting to sneak rehearsals in next week. did a percussion track the other day for Ellen Klaver's album. sleeping better than in the ten years before.

I anticipate quite the celebration after Dr. Nemechek's call on saturday. I'm going to be somewhat of a positron myself. and since the electron meets the positron tomorrow...maybe it'll be no charge.