I've got a trip to M.D. Anderson this week...it's never-ending. Bone scan and a visit with the ever lovely Dr. Ross. Even my great affection for him isn't quite a panacea for the stress extravaganza. I woke up four times last night. It never fails. Even when I'm not thinking about, my brain is working overtime with anxiety.
I think I get the month of July off, except for a visit to check on the progress of my macular degeneration. I fear the news will not be good because the eyesight in my left eye (the one most affected by the disease) has deteriorated. I can still see the grid I use to check md's progress, so that's good news. I'm tired of doctors and I'm tired of bad news.
In August, I have a follow-up with my radiation oncologist. He's here in town, so that's something, I suppose. August 29 is my next (and, I hope final) surgery.
In September, it starts all over again. I'll have to schedule a visit with my medical oncologist. I'll never forget the last visit after chemo ended. I told my doctor that I really like him, but I'd be thrilled to not see him again. Oh no, he told me, you'll be seeing me for the next five years, at least. Four times a year. My heart sank.
There will never be an end to this, unless they find a cure. I have my very own M.D. Anderson page on the web. A dubious distinction. It could be worse, though. As far as we know, there's no cause for concern. The Watcher notes the one-cell rule.
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