Poopy Poopy Poopy Pants

There are not many things that I truly hate.  I can usually always find something good…at least good in the way that I look at things which usually involves making someone feel uncomfortable… in anything.  That being said I odviously hate cancer.  A side hatred of the overarching cancer hatred is the hatred of waiting for the next thing. 

For those of you that are lost, let me splain.  Cole had been taking part in a treatment that consisted of him taking pills every day that did not seem to have any sort of side effects.    Unfortunately they also did not seem to have any sort of cancer fighting effect.  The spots that were there are still there, and he has a new spot in his right leg.  So now we are back into the hair falling out, feeling like shit, upset stomach, sleepless nights (and the side effects on Cole suck too) chemotherapy treatments that we all love so dearly.

So tomorrow, well since it is well past one am today I guess, Cole has to go in to the OR and get a port put in (I do hope they put it on his right side for ironicality).  A port is just like the central line that he used to have, but the access point to this line lives under the skin.  Good for us because there is no maintenance and no water restrictions on Cole, who incidentally, has become quite the swimmer.   

This port installation procedure is a fairly minor (relatively speaking) procedure, and I am sure that Doc Sullivan will have no problems.  Of course my wildly overactive imagination has gone through all of the shittiest possibilities and has decided to share them with the part of my brain that deals with me going to sleep.  I have been sitting here imagining having to write his obituary (which I have done more times that I care to admit), imagine the doctor coming into the waiting room to apologize because there was nothing they could do.  Super fun times. 

Switching gears a little bit….that is what I do and how I roll.  Deal with it…., I had a telephone meeting with a nurse practitioner in advance of the surgery….at least that is what he said that it was.  Given his almost comically (without the almost) clichéd accent, and the fact that he kept saying, “According to computer” (now put that line into an over the top Russian accent that sounds like a guy making fun of Russian accents, and you will see the comedy), and the fact that he is from Kaiser, which is where Cole was born, and the fact that he kept asking about Elisa’s pregnancy, and the fact that 2+2=4, I have decided that he is a sleeper agent from the former Soviet Union that was accidently activated when I ordered a pizza online the other day.

This new therapy will require Cole to spend 4 hours per day, M-F, one week out of 3 (sounds like the worst Reserves commercial ever) up at sunny UCSF (when the new one opens I wonder if the proximity to the ball park will result in more games attended.) for the foreseeable future.  Word around the campfire is that we are of the mindset of long term systemic treatment instead of maintenance. 

Looking for ideas on things to do while we are in.  The therapy is all done outpatient so we can’t bring the big bag of stuff (big bag of stuff means the D&D stuff, Wii, Dr. Pepper, Pringles, and Goldfish).  Odviouslylenss we will do some world domination plotting (Will send you the link to our World Domination Kickstarter.  We only have to raise 2345w3sfw34545342 more dollars), but we need some other ideas of what to do that does not equal video games.

Think I will say bye for now, but please remember to give me ideas that are not the normal ideas (do a puzzle, paint a picture, get some stank).  Think outside the box.  I look forward to your comments, but please be advised that all comments must be written between the hours of 12am-4am PST (or is it PTSD) or written after 12-14 beers have been consumed within the previous 1 minute.  Please raise your glasses to Cole, author of a beloved series of children’s book starring a shy palm tree named Guido.