So another week and another meeting in a sterile clinical room at Barts. This time with the radiology department to discuss my treatment after this course of chemotherapy is completed. He's happy to go ahead and I'll be zapped from the last week in April.
I had images of the famous scene from Goldfinger in which Gert Frobe straps Sean Connery to a table and a red laser slowly moves to his crotch. Luckily technology has moved on from that and the Linear Accelerator I'll be put in won't burn the life out of me, just the cancer cells. The machines (there are several), are all named after planets, which lends a pleasing Sci-Fi vibe to the whole operation. Also I learnt on Friday that as part of the procedure I'll be having a tattoo! Awesome! I've asked for a Tiger. Annoyingly it'll only be three marker dots on my pelvis and lung so they can line up the machine properly. I'd still like a Tiger though...
One of the more interesting turn of events was that the other Monday I was invited to give a talk about being all cancery to a group of Psychology PhD students at UEL in Stratford, East London. The way it was pitched to me I thought it would be a nice, cosy seminar group. What it actually was, was 30 odd people in a big classroom with a projector and everything. I think I'm ok at public speaking but I haven't done any since my voice was damaged last year. To add to that anxiety would they laugh at my jokes? How do you convey the sheer awfulness of it all?
I think I did all right in the end. It was half way between a stand-up gig and a confessional. Most of them seemed to be engaged in what I had to say and my clinical psychologist seemed happy with what I conveyed. That still didn't stop me from sitting on the Central Line to work afterwards going "If only I'd said that!" The curse of all performers I guess..
In more prosaic news my chemotherapy treatment continues to rumble on. I've now done two of my four cycles. Apart from the tiredness and pins & needles in my hands I'm bearing up well. My hair is thinning out and I'll think I'll be losing it soon. Then back comes Cancer Boy (tm), the world's worst superhero. I'm managing to keep going to work and make all my hospital appointments, which is all I can ask for at the moment.
I've just looked at my diary and it may well be that I finish all my treatment by my birthday in mid-May, just in time for my birthday. That would be a good thing to celebrate.
I'm currently...watching The Night Manager on BBC1...reading weird Buddhist books for my Mindfulness course (not sold on it to be honest).. listening to Courtney Barnett "Sometimes I sit and think, sometimes I just sit"