A Pleasant Fiction

Last night, the Mister and I had our second movie date night of my furlough.  We went to see the new Indy movie (which was fairly entertaining but lacking the sparkle of its predecessors, especially Raiders.).  Life has really been falling back into this semi-normalcy, despite Momma A's bald head and tubies and clinic visits. We were eating family meals, going on errands, and having a great time playing with Little A.   But it was a pretend normalcy

Because now I'm back in the Big House, getting chemo Round 2.  I'm back in the land of Cletus the IV, cavalcade of medicine, late night nurse visits, poking and prodding, and napalm mouthwash.  Good times peeps.  And of course, a bone marrow transplant is in my near future.  Whoop, whoop! 

Last week my bone marrow biopsy revealed refractory leukemia cells.  Some of these stupid cells dared show their faces after the Zombie Warrior and her chemo arsenal steamrolled through the halls of my bone marrow.  This news wasn't a huge surprise to me considering I'd already been informed that my flavor of AML is particularly aggressive and a narsty bugger at that.  So instead of those slobbering, shambling Romero-esque ghouls, the Stupid Leukemia Zombie Cells inhabiting my marrow are more like the psychotic infected from 28 Days Later or Zack Snyder's swiftly moving undead.  These are tough buggers, and Zombie Warrior's going to need a more powerful set of weapons, and that's why I am here.  Of course, arming her to the teeth may cause some further collateral damage to my body; give a gal a flame thrower, and she's bound to scorch the walls something fierce.

Keep me in your prayers as I take on this new, more intense round of chemo.  The poisons are being pumped in for five days.  If I don't react poorly (meaning no fevers or insane side effects) to the chemo, I might be released on parole after the chemo treatments ends.  That's our prayer goal now: That Zombie Warrior cleans up these vicious leukemia ghouls and that she doesn't completely trash my body in the process.

Yeah and my new attending doctor is a jackass.  An old fart doctor who cracked a joked about how I "looked good now but just wait until after they'd finished with me."  Yeah, who's been complaining about Dr. CrotchedyPants?

Did anyone else notice Aaron had a White Rabbit poster on his bedroom door on tonight's Lost season finale?

Spam sales are up 7%.

Finally, according to the US Postal Service, come December, I no longer live in Richmond, but Henrico.  Curiouser.

Off to catch my fleeting Big House zzzzzzz's.