Toxic Vengeance

At a recent appointment with my other oncologist, Dr WonderWoman aka "DrWW", she asked me in a routine doctorly kind of way whether I shaved my butt cheeks.

Now I only needed a nanosecond to come up with an emphatic answer of "No!", but I did need a little more time to pick myself up off the floor after nearly dying of laughter. After dealing with the issue of whether I shave my "back and crack" as she so eloquently put it (apparently to aid in the concise medical diagnosis of my persistently poxy thigh), DrWW followed up with some very useful advice. "Stay away from pregnant women and small children". At that point, I did need another second to ruminate on the fact that it is becoming rapidly apparent that I must be the victim of a very sick (and at times quite hilarious) joke played on me by the Great Spirit From Above.

Let's just sum up the comedy so far. Not only do I have cancer at the ripe old age of forty, but now also a nasty affliction only treatable by a medication which is widely advertised to the general public, who don't know any better, as a treatment for genital herpes !!!!!!! And I don't have genital herpes !!!!!

Needless to say I left her office feeling downright medieval with my poxy leg and wondering if Typhoid Mary were alive today, whether she would agree to be my friend.

So it's no wonder my local pharmacist has decided to ensconce herself in a plastic bubble only penetrable by people wearing orange bio-hazard suits. With all the nasty bugs that have taken up residence in my body this year, why I could rent myself out to a hostile nation as a toxic biological weapon of mass destruction. And if we could just hurry up and harness the power of human cloning, who knows what havoc I could wreak. (Note to Self: Good idea for low grade horror/porn/action/animated B-movie script in 3-D entitled "Vengeance of the Toxic Tits: The Anna Rachnel Story").

Anyway, as you can imagine, I'm starting to get a little bored of this whole cancer thing. If it's not one thing it's another. Sometimes it's really hard to remember what life was like before all this cancer b.s. but rather than dwelling on what might have been, I choose to take each day for what it is. Mostly a rollicking good laugh with a bit of b.s. in between.