Thursday, January 31, 2008

[1-31-08] It begins...

[1:00am]
     Guess the pills the doctor gave me are ineffectual: another night of restless and scattered sleep. I'm getting so little sleep lately, making it impossible to do my new and routine 8am exercise.
     Maybe the insomnia is a symptom of the disease.

[7:00am]
     Thursday, sweet Thursday! I've been waiting for this day. Today I get a CT scan, and I get a chance to talk to my new oncologist. Even better, is that the scan is before the appointment -- the diagnosis and prognosis will be even more accurate.

[7:30am]
     Here I am, at the CT center. I'm excited -- this is going to be so cool. I mean, I designed software to calibrate x-rays: could this device be using some part of my software?

[8:10am]
     They take me to this room with a huge, white and doughnut-shaped device. It looks like something from a bad dream out of a science fiction story...
     Suddenly, I get a smile on my face, thinking: "Ha ha (teasing), all you people in front of me have to use the lame x-rays. I get to use the bad-ass one!"
     The technician put me on the conveyor belt/bed and told me that he was going to inject me with iodine, and that it would cause parts of me to feel warm. So, as I was fed into the machine, the machine started to spin very quickly. I was instructed to hold my breath, and the iodine was automatically injected. I didn't really feel warm, but I was getting a metallic taste in my mouth. Then, all of a sudden, my balls were getting nice and toasty (excuse me for being candid, but that's the truth!). Then, when the technician helped me out, I said: "I'm not going to tell you where I got warm." He looked at me with an expression saying, "Sheesh, I wish all these patients would stop making that joke."

     New experiences and interesting stuff. Plus, who says cancer can't have humorous parts?

[11:00am]
     I just attended my Artificial Intelligence class, and now I am waiting for my appointment at the Alta Bates hospital. I have bad memories here...
     Anyhow, I get to see the oncologist -- how exciting! Now I get to find out a qualified opinion of what this is. It may not even be cancer. If it is cancer, I hope it is Hodgkins (that one has a 5-9% mortality rate!). Apparently, it is the best lymphoma to have.
     But even if it is something else, I know I'll be fine. I can just see myself bald and puking all over the place, supporting myself with an arm on the doctor's desk, saying, "Is that all ya got?!?" It'll suck, but that's what makes the victory sweeter.
     Buddhism says that without suffering, there will be no happiness. This experience will make my life better in the long run.
     Ugh, when I get home, I'm going straight to bed.

[11:30am]
     Well, I just got out of the oncologist's office -- the nurse is going to set up a whole mess of appointments: pet scan, heart scan, HIV test, blood work, bone marrow sample, and chest biopsy (big needle + chest = bad). Ack. Then there's the appointments to see the nutritionist and social worker...and that's all before I start chemo.

     It's definitely a lymphoma cancer: the doctor said it was "extremely likely, but that there was a non-zero chance that it is something else." Alright... LET'S GET 'ER DONE!
     I feel really scared to tell my family... I hope things can be as close to usual/fun as they usually are. I know now that I have to tell them. They have a right to know, even if they don't like the news. I just don't want to be the cause of anguish...especially not now.

     I need to take at least 2 technical classes for the semester. Considering the circumstances, I suppose I should drop a class.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

[1-30-08] Calm Before...

Another night of shitty sleep. These anti-itching pills my doctor gave me didn't work at all. Bah. Yet another day I miss my 20minute gym session. Until now, I was going to the gym like 14 days straight! I've never done that before. Ironic: I exercised daily since new years and quit my occasional smokes...

Today I get to see my psychiatrist. I explained to him my current loss of sleep, and my skepticism regarding my recent change in my medication. Not that I actually like the pills -- I just felt that I really needed stability now. Especially now.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

[1-29-08] Oncologist

[Transcribed directly from my journal. I don't care about grammar in my journal, so please allow me to apologize beforehand.]

     Today I get to hear from the oncologist. Maybe he can give me a clue about the x-ray.
     I went to class, checked on financial aid (still no money), and turned in a UC loan deferrment form to have them stop billing me while I am in school. I also got permission for an emergency loan, but I decided against it because I was supposed to get the money "any day now."

[3:00pm]
     I went to the health center to find out why I haven't yet received a call from my doctor. I find out that the oncologist has not returned his call yet.

     My doctor looks at me and asks me how I am doing. I say, "Actually quite well. I don't really understand why, but I am doing quite good. Part of it is because the threat to my life makes me appreciate it more, you know? The other part is that, with a threat like this, I really don't care about what people think. I'm not sweating the small stuff. I can smile at a girl: no problem... chat with classmates: piece of cake."

     He tell me that I should consult with one of the counselors, and to tell them that I've received a "very bad diagnosis." I thought it was silly, but I agreed to it.

     So I walked upstairs, feeling fine. Then I entered the counseling center and got a knot in my stomach. "Can I help you?", the receptionist says.
     "Yeah, my doctor told me to come up here to see a counselor, and that it was a good idea because I just recei..." My voice trailed up...my eyes were trying to shed tears, and it felt like there was something lodged in my throat. I couldn't speak! I looked down at the table, trying to compose myself and finish my sentence.
     Talking to the furniture, I said, "I just received a..." It was even worse this time. Actual tears were shed -- a rare occurrence -- and I had to say "excuse me." I walk away for a few steps and compose myself.
"I just..." (At this point, the tears started up again, but I persisted.) "...received a really bad diagnosis."

     Her face was wide eyed and startled. "Uh, yes. We'll set you up with someone today, if we can. Do you have your insurance card?"
     I guess that was when it really hit me: I have cancer. Afterwards, when I talked with the counselor, I felt a bit better. A burden that I didn't know I had was lifted. This world felt a little more real, but that was OK -- I was going to be fine.

     In class my phone rang (on vibrate, but to hell with the professor -- I answer all my calls now.). It was the secretary of the oncologist. She wanted to make an appointment in a few days. On the 31st, my oncologist will see me. Two days from now, not a week or two weeks. If there's one thing I've learned, it is that quick appointments is a BAD thing.

     When I got home, I really wanted to tell someone. Then I started to get all teary-eyed again -- whenever I think of telling my family, I feel terrible and afraid.
     As it so happens, my friend Heather just happened to call. She was like, "I've had a bad day." I say, "Me too. Well, I don't know, more crazy than bad. So tell me about your day."
     "You first," she says.
     "Uhm, mine is pretty long and complicated." She insisted, so I told her.

     She was shocked and terribly afraid for me. Then I started to feel bad -- I shouldn't have told her. I mean, I basically just made her feel terrible worried about me because I needed to talk to someone. Isn't that selfish? How mean is that?

     I definitely can't tell my family. I'll just work through this and succeed -- then no one gets hurt.
     Still, I really needed to tell someone, and I am thankful for her ear, and kind words.