Saturday, January 27, 2007
If I were an Oscar Meyer weiner, I'd probably commit hot-dog suicide.
I don't think I could live with myself knowing the conglomeration of pork by-products that composed my innards. In other news, I really have no other news. I think one of the three tubes that comes out from my main catheter line is clogged. That's exciting. I came to this conclusion last night as I was flushing them, and the saline solution wouldn't go into one of the tubes. It's important, but it's not an emergency because the other two lines are still flushing fine, which means my main line is still clear. (I have to flush 10 mL of saline solution into my lines every other day to keep them cleaned. It comes in a syringe, and every time I have to flush them, I always get the feeling that I'm cooler than I actually am, all intense and using a syringe and everything.) Also, today I became a member of the Chicago chapter of Gilda's Club. It is basically a national cancer support group that has houses in many major cities in the U.S. and two in Canada - although there isn't one in Boston. Anyway, so Gilda's Club offers support groups to cancer patients and survivors and their friends and families. They also host activities and social events for their members. I think I'm going to start going to a young adult support group. Not that I need the support, but it will be good to hear what other people relatively close to my age and experience level have to say about their adventures with cancer. Probably that it's not an adventure, and I should stop talking now. This place also has cooking demos with chefs from great Chicago restaurants, painting, pottery, and they have activities specifically for the young adult crowd. For February, it's jewelry making. Cool? So we'll see how this goes. Hopefully I'll meet some neat folks. Otherwise, that's really it. Two more days until chemo session number 2 begins. Counting down... And it's supposed to be (insert appropriate inappropriate expletive here) cold tomorrow in Chicago. Fantastic. Well, sleep tight, don't let anything bite. Pax.