I'm Not Dead Yet

In the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail, there is a scene where the overtaker is wheeling around a cart of dead bodies from the plague. He comes upon an old man who is near-dead, but he refuses to get on the cart because he is still alive. In his immortal words: "But I'm not dead yet! I think I'll go for a walk! I feel haaaapyyy!!!" And then he gets bonked and put on the cart. After eleven rounds of mustard-gas derived chemotherapy (seriously, Cytoxan is chemically intravenous mustard-gas and I totally believe it based on the side effects) and being maxed out on all the radiation that my cranium can ever get in a lifetime - well, "I'm not dead yet!!!"

(Me getting on the modern-day plague cart after all. I'm wearing my wig because you have to look good on the ambulance!)

So I have only three chemotherapy sessions to go. If I can go without a blood transfusion or a platelet transfusion or hydration or a dangerously high fever or my stupid kidneys deciding to stop working or chemotherapy-induced mucositis (don't ask). I should only have two weeks left in the hospital, along with weeks in between each session to recuperate. Then one more surgery to get my central line out. This will put me done October-ish. After almost a year lost in cancer land, it will be over!

(This is my central line. It saved my life, but it made me take sponge-baths for almost a year because you can’t get water on it. I have never forgiven it for that.)