Baldies' Blog began originally in the UK by a 26 year old journalist with a blood cancer on a mission to inform the world about bone marrow donation.

He has since died, and I took on the cause of making cancer care more transparent for everybody.

Cancer is a disease that will touch everybody through diagnosis or affiliation: 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed and 1 in 3 woman will hear those words, "You Have Cancer."

I invite you to read how I feel along my journey and
how I am continuing to live a full life alongside my Hodgkin's lymphoma, with me controlling my cancer, not my cancer controlling me.

I hope that "Baldies' Blog" will prepare you to handle whatever life sends you, but especially if it's the message, "You Have Cancer."

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Friday, November 11, 2011

The day after therapy is rough. Dad and I did manage to get kamikaze style care in NYC. We left at 6am for my 11 appt and pulled up perfectly at 10:45 after some discussion about whether the address I had and the garmen were actually more correct than what my dad decided in his brain. Vic's job was to question all my tips yesterday. He didn't even take up the $20 valet service at first, opting instead to find his own spot, which he did, but the never paid the meter. I miss the days when I was a savvy new yorker and he was a nervous country bumpkin. Then he listened to me. I also think he ignored me when both yanellie and I said if you hit commuter traffic, go to her house to wait it out. If you leave at 5pm from nyc or 7:30pm you'll get home the same time due to gridlock! I say I think because I was passed out from lots of ativan and benadryl. All that aside, I love my dad for the great care. Our trip basically cost $100 + food and tips. That's the lowest we could possibly get it with gas a minimum of $80, parking $20. We couldve packed snacks to save on food, but due to an unfortunate incident where a high strung nurse called my name 3 times in quick succession causing me to hop out of my chair, run across the office screaming "I'm here. I'm here!" Then catching the door as she shut it to get inside, I almost passed out. I caught up up to nursey then, I felt it coming screamed, "I need to sit down!" Ugh, waking up the next morning is rough. Some people forget that I go to nyc for treatment, not for shopping, and I feel like shit the next day. Every appendage feels weighted down. I can feel the oxygen shunting to my head and torso. My head is hazey from being drugged to the hilt and I can't run from shop to shop carrying extra weight. It will make me irritable and pissy. Most people understand this, especially "caretakers," but you may be surprised to know some people don't. Thanks to lots of medication, I've been able to play today! Don't want to leave on a grouchy note but that's just how it goes today.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

1 comment:

alvaro said...

completely useful..good source, thanks anyway!