Prologue: Day One

I went to the Northwestern Memorial Hospital complex earlier today for my first day of testing and an informational meeting with the head nurse in charge of the stem cell trial that I'll be participating in over the next two months. (There is a chance I could end up in the "control" group, in which case I won't receive the transplant. Yet. In six months, I would have the option of having this done.)

First up today was a succession of blood draws. I am not squeamish, and needles especially don't bother me since I give myself an injection once a week with a massive one (see below). I sat in the "blood" chair next to a nurse and another nurse with another patient. Not to brag, but they were all incredulous when they saw my utter nonchalance while the nurse filled five vials with my blood. Before I left the room, I thanked them all for the "sincere sensation" of getting drained.

Then it was on to the dentist, who I saw while waiting for another informational appointment with a nurse who tested my vitals and checked my veins. (Happy to report, by the way, that my blood pressure was a strong 118/75, and that I weigh a disappointing 200 lbs. even. I've been trying to bulk up in order to make my post-chemo appearance less gaunt and Nosferatu-ish. Evidently, though, I need to eat more. However, my appetite is like a toddler's.) More good news: no cavities. This makes two consecutive dentist visits without a cavity, which is unprecedented in my experience. I ALWAYS have had cavities, and am convinced that this points to a genetic predisposition. When I was a kid, though, and still had my baby teeth to fuck up without any major ramifications, I once had nine cavities. NINE. I describe my childhood brushing technique thusly: swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Nine cavities seemed about right... (I've only been topped, that I know of, by the Sophster, who I think had ten when we were in college. That's still funny, by the way.)

After that, I had another informational tete-a-tete with the head nurse of the trial. Thankfully, she appreciated my dry and slightly inappropriate sense of humor (which she wonderfully described as a combination of Larry David and Lewis Black, with a dusting of Steven Wright). No, that's not true. Scratch the "slightly." She explained every facet of the trial lucidly and simply, which was especially good for my mother...

Finally, around 3 I went to have my MRI. Some people dread this procedure because of the claustrophobia it can provoke if one is so inclined. I, however, enjoy this test, or, as I call it, nap time. I lay on a board that slides into the main tube with what looks like Hannibal Lecter's restraint mask, or a hockey goalie's helmet, placed around my head. The technicians gave me earplugs, so the constant clanging was muffled enough to let me sleep. I think I was in there for almost 2 hours. It could have been longer or shorter, but I was asleep.

I had another shot in my arm for this, which displayed contrast, and so showed clearly any changes that had taken place since my last MRI. Again my casualness during this injection dismayed the nurse, who had to listen to me talk about my enthusiasm for my impending nap.

All this talk of napping is making me sleepy. (Too bad I have to "write" write now.)

R