That's what it looks like: Part 1 of the four drug cocktail that cures Hodgkin's Lymphoma. It's a bright red liquid that gets pushed into a vein out of a nine inch syringe. It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing when I first saw it.
"That's it? That's what's going to cure me?"
It looks like something out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon.
Well, laugh or not, the stuff works. Eight months ago I had Stage 4. Now I have, well at the moment I have a partially undetermined definition of the current state of my health. My latest PET-CT scan from this past Thursday shows "no definite evidence for recurrence."
This isn't as good as my scan from six months ago because one of my lymph nodes lit up mildly in my neck, but not with enough activity to indicate cancer. Either way, at the worst I only have Stage 1 now.
While I await further results, I would like now to pause for gratitude.
I am grateful for every doctor who examined me, every nurse who poked me, every medical receptionist who was kind to me, every technician who took my blood pressure, every pharmacist who measured my medicine, every radiologist who read my scans and every specialist who gave me a second opinion.
So many of them not only did their job, but went out of their way to ensure my comfort. They were kind and supportive and understanding. They treated me like a person, not like a to-do list.
I have an inexpressible admiration for every one of these people. I couldn't do their job for a day, or even an hour. The people who work in this profession are nothing short of heroic. They deserve your patience and your respect.
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