Damn

The doctor was wrong.  I kinda figured this would be the case, but I had my hopes up to be the one who was wrong.  How often can you say that?  "Boy oh boy do I hope I'm wrong!"  The pain seemed to settle in a bit later, so by noon yesterday, I still had hope.  When I got home, though, I could tell it was getting worse and the football game was likely out of the question.

I took a pain pill and a nap, but when I woke up, it was even worse.  One more football game missed.  This morning, it's the worst it's ever been.  This time is different, though.  This time, I can chant "One more time.  One more time.  One more time."  I'm almost done.  This is the last time I have to feel this way.  By Tuesday or Wednesday, the pain will subside and then I get a month off.  A month of NO treatment of ANY kind.

After that month, radiation will likely start, but that'll be a cake-walk compared to this stupid Taxol.  It may make me tired.  Tired is something I can handle.  That's why they make coffee, I think.  Anyway, I'll know more about that plan on Monday.  Kevin will pick me up and we'll go for a consult with the radiology oncologist.  Then we'll know the plan.

For now, I'll sit right here.  I hurt, but I know it's going to end soon.  Somehow, that makes it better.  I've showered and moved to the recliner, so I am among the living.  This is likely the most activity I'll see today, though.  One more time.

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