Life goes on: Kyle's new tattoos

Like me, Kyle got a some "tattoos" yesterday.

Marjorie and I picked Kyle up from Pre-K yesterday afternoon and, as I was buckling-up his seat-belt, I noticed this black ball-point pen scribble all over his left forearm.

"Did you have an accident with a pen?" I asked.

"No, Armando give me tattoo," said Kyle. (Armando is one of Kyle's buddies at school.)

Kyle then proceeded to show me his tattoos: a scribble on the left arm, some dots on the right arm, a "tribal" tat on the back of his left calf, and a few dots on his right leg.

Apparently the boys decide to do the Miami Ink thing during "quiet time" instead of napping.

Sadly, all of the tattoos were removed during last night's bath, but that just leaves more free area for new creativity during quiet time today. Life goes on.

Bonus

So, while I was getting radiation and chemo, my forearms were covered in sores. Having grown up in central Florida during the 70's (when there was no such this as "sun block"), I suspected this might have something to do while future skin cancer.

'turns out I was right. Last week, my oncologist, Dr. G, said the precancerous skin cells were being affected by the chemotherapy. The chemo basically killed off (my term, not his) some of the precancerous cells and this would at least delay the onset of skin cancer.

This is cool 'cause cancer sucks (even skin cancer).

Phase 1 is complete!

This morning I had my last radiation treatment and tonight I swallowed my last 1,650 mg of chemo - phase one of Frank's eviction is complete!

Now I get four to six weeks to recover before surgery.

Doing "great"

Yesterday, 19 May 2008, my radiation oncologist, Dr. D, told me that I'm doing "great".

I said that I certainly didn't feel great. I'm queasy and tired all of the time, my arms are covered in sores, my hands and feet hurt, and I have non-stop diarrhea.

He said it's a matter of perspective; I've haven't had to stop my treatment, I haven't had to go to the hospital, and I haven't developed septicemia.

So, I guess I'm doing "great".

The incredible shrinking Frank

I think the radiation and chemo are working. I think Frank is getting smaller.

"How do you know this?" you ask.

Well, the following explanation might be too much information (TMI), so you might want to just take my word for it.

Still here? Okay...

If I was a big city, then my colon would be the eight south-bound lanes of the interstate highway that runs through me (think I75/85 through downtown Atlanta). Frank, would be a seven car pile-up that was blocking six of the eight lanes of traffic. During rush-hour, traffic would trickle-by in the remaining two lanes (and I do mean "trickle").

Lately, traffic seems to be flowing (yes, I meant that too) a little better, so I'm guessing Frank is blocking a few less lanes.

Good news (I hope it's true)

My radiation oncologist, Dr. D, says that I could be done with radiation and chemo as soon as 21 May 2008. That's a little over two week from now and, if it's true, I'm thrilled.

The radiation isn't bad, but the chemo totally sucks. I'm queasy all of the time and the last two nights I've felt like I had food poisoning. (You know, when your entire G.I. tract tries to empty itself in three hours or less and it doesn't care which "exit" it uses.)

Of course, this is just the low dose chemo - I can hardly wait for the "real" chemo.