Small Lymphoma Update
Well, there’s even less to report so far this week.
My paperwork is being sent from the pulmonary/thoracic area to the lymphoma specialists. So, instead of getting a date with an oncologist yesterda, I got shuffled into another paper queue for two days. When I finally get to meet this oncologist, she better be cute and single!
I’ve already informed my “inside man” at MD Anderson where we are in this process. They promised me that they’d keep watch over my paperwork and make sure it gets to the right place and people. Unfortunately, I forgot to put in my request for a cute, *red-headed*, single, *female* oncologist, so there’s no telling who I’ll end up getting poked and prodded by eventually. I really must learn to make notes to remind myself about the important things.
On a lighter note, I’ve named my tumor Cletus.
Why “Cletus” you ask? Well, he’s sort of inbred, swimming at the wrong end of the gene pool and no one really wants him to show up at the family picnic, so Cletus just seemed to fit. (With apologies in advance for anyone with a favorite relative named Cletus.)
Besides, giving the little bastard a name takes away a little bit of the fear that’s developed while waiting for a full diagnosis. Sure, a tumor named Cletus may make you shudder in disgust, but who can really be afraid of anything named “Cletus”?
When I finally get an appointment with an actual doctor who might actually tell me something useful about my tumor and treatment, I’ll let you all know.
Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us."
--Helen Keller
