Muddy sez it’s gonna be alright.

When last we met, an unexpected recurrence of lymphoma in my neck derailed plans for a stem cell transplant, which is really the only viable option I have for any kind of long term remission. No sure thing, to be sure, but in this situation you gotta grab the best bet and push your chips onto the table. read more

In yet another turn of fate, the game board has been flung skyward.

I spent the first part of the week at the hospital getting tested for my fitness to endure an autologous stem cell transplant. The good news is that I am a picture of health, passed all my tests with flying colors.

The bad news is that I am experiencing an aggressive recurrence of the lymphoma. All bets are off. read more

Life since the last update has been fairly routine, if by routine one means a seemingly endless succession of inpatient chemo sessions punctuated by deep exhaustion, malaise, and occasional mild bouts of tummy tumult.

The last round of standard chemo left me pretty well flattened, a piece of unidentifiable road kill sprawled on the sofa, incapable of following a thought for more than a few seconds at a time. It was as though I were looking at a huge, jostling crowd from above, everyone wearing big, yellow hats with nothing to distinguish one from another. Then, one person would take off their hat and I would try to follow that person/thought. But no matter how hard I would try to concentrate, the damned thought would put the yellow hat back on and start trying to hide. Then another would take off the yellow cap for a few seconds before hiding. Ad infinitum. read more

Or maybe I’m a dog that lost his bite.

The first six weeks of chemo were relatively uninteresting. Fatigued, but not hammered in the fashion all those movies of the week and after school specials had me expecting. I thought I was special, that rare creature immune to the horrors. Everything would work exactly as planned, mirabile dictu, I am healed! read more