The Occasional Joke

Nurse: Patient's name?

Centurion: Marcus Licinius Crassus

Nurse: And his date of birth?

Centurion: 115 BC.

Nurse: All right. And what is he here for?

Centurion: Cataphract surgery.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

2011: made it

So, here we are. Made it out of 2010 with my sanity (an assertion which, I suppose, is open to debate,) but it seemed questionable once or twice. I'm including the truly unfortunate self-portrait only by way of a warning: you really, really don't want to go through an allogeneic stem cell transplant. None of the wreckage you see has anything at all to do with the myeloma; it's all the treatment and the treatments for the treatment. I look kind of like a plucked turkey, and I have just about the energy to do a blog post or two a day, but I'm still standing.

If there's any message at all it's just this: if you think something's wrong, it probably is. I spent my entire life never sick a day, and then in a year, through the disinterest and inability of a useless general practitioner, let this sneak up on me. Don't let it happen to you; if somebody says, "go get an MRI," go get one.

Anyway, enough whining. Thanks for all the support and good wishes. It's uphill from here.

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