It's a cancer update, so skip this if you are here for the Kearsarge stuff.
Dr. H is pushing for some chemo, more chemo and then a bone marrow transplant (really just my own shit harvested, pheresed and given back).
But that means six weeks of hospitalization. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!!!!! Six weeks? SIX weeks!
And a month where no one can be near me.
I'm gonna tell them "NO!". LOL Jen's mad, but I have already made up my mind. There is no way I can be out of work that long.
Anyway, it was an 1120 appointment and we left the hospital at 1400. I told Jen they work at a glacial pace. She showed up with a legal pad (white, not yellow, so no one is going to jail - obscure NYPD Blue reference) and took notes and asked questions. We left and I said "Don't you feel better? It was just like a told you. No big deal."
She made a face and said no.
She asked if I wanted to go to Water Street and get a sandwich. I said "No, I want to go to East Bay and order the nachos and drink like a fish." She said ok. I called the girls in work...."do I have to come back? Because I am going down to East Bay and get hammered. Come down after work."
We sent out texts that we were having a cancer celebration. A few people freaked. A few people joined us.
Dick the bartender says he will still love me when I am bald. He served me several more Cape Codders after Tom the afternoon bartender served several. It's a good deal when the shift change happens. No one realizes that you have been drinking so much.
Frankie sent Bill and Andrea for us. Bill to drive us home and Andrea to drive my car home.
The police pulled Bill over - took one look at the old ladies in the car, ckutching their take out containers.......and didn't bother checking Bill's license or registration. The officer told him he didn't want to hold us up, Bill should fix his tail light and we should all have a nice night.
Bill said we should drive around with him more often.