spaghettiThe countdown to my treatment has begun in earnest.  It starts on Monday (Aug 25).  I have three days to go.  It’s going to be an ordeal for sure — very, seriously, unfun — but at the same time I’m really not worried.  I’m almost completely healed up after the operation, I feel strong and healthy, in good shape.  How bad can it get?

It’s ironic that all the pain so far has been inflicted not by my cancer but by the treatment.  The swollen lymph node never caused any discomfort, but the operation knocked me out for a month and now the radiation/chemo will knock me out for two months more.

Will I lose my hair?  Somehow I don’t think so.  I have a lot of hair.  While most guys my age worry about hair loss, I worry about hair gain.  My hair is like a well fertilized Wimbledon lawn.  The chemo has no idea what it’s up against.

We’ve bought all the paraphernalia we can lay our hands on: nutritional supplements, salves, creams, pills, ointments.  Since none of it was covered by the health insurance it was extremely expensive (about $300 US).  But we have to be prepared and these kinds of products can make a hell of a difference.

I’m eating spaghetti.  This is what long-distance runners do before big competitions, and what Diane did before giving birth to our kids.  Starchy food burns slowly and can power you for days. Besides, tomato sauce and broccoli have great anti-oxidant properties.

I feel like I’m going to go off somewhere, on some long journey.  I feel like I have to pack, say goodbye to friends.  It’s strange.  I’ll be going up to Taipei every day, but other than that I’ll be right here at home.

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