Today was one of those days that for me have been split up into appointments, mainly medical, in which I underwent a few minutes of radiation therapy to hopefully target and zap any glioma blastoma malignancy holding fort there. Tomorrow should be the final time for my six-week prescribed radiation rounds. Then I get to ring the bell. I don't think for a moment that, with this, I will have thoroughly eradicated this extremely aggressive and dangerous pathogen, known to shorten life spans down to as few as a few weeks. So I'll be entering the year 2026 with a great feeling of uncertainty, doubt and mistrust: do the oncologists there assigned to my case really know what they are doing, and do they practice their ptofessions proactiively to aggressively combat my afflictions? I guess I'll just have to see about that. In spite of the gloomy doomsday prognosis laid out before me after brain surgery, I have continued with my cardiovascular exercise, on the rug in our living room. This evening I covered 5.1 virtual miles while watching a virtual ideo on YouTube of the 2022 NYC Marathon. Now it's up to me to get myself comfortable on the couch and see whether I get some decent sleep tonight...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment