Calling the "devil"by its right name

When I was told I had a lymphoma, I was also told that there are different types: Hodgkin's and Non-Hodgkin's and these have sub-types. It appears I had a mix of everything. And for me that was enough. I didn't care much about knowing exactly which sub-types. Some patients like to get into all the details. For me it was enougth to know that it was curable, the cure covers different types of lymphomas and that I was in phase 1. Today, thanks to a letter exchanged between doctors I can say, with scientifical knowledge, that my diagnosis is: Mixed Non-Hodgkin's (partly diffuse large B cell and partly Burkett's) and Hodgkin's disease in the left axilla. Stage 1A (meaning not spread). There you go.

There is another me out there

The other day I read a comment on Sarah Jessica Parker, where she appears to have said that she didn't spend time googling her name. Well, I thought, I never googled mine, so I did. The outcome is scary. Someone took my name....hopefully not my self.

Check it out (and in case you don't know, my full name is indeed the same):

http://moodle.fct.unl.pt/user/view.php?id=5094&course=1

Comparing Divas...a musical moment

For those of you that know FADO and for those that don't know, it is interesting to compare the same song in the voices of the biggest ever "fadista" Amalia Rodrigues and the new big success Mariza. I do like Mariza very much, but Amalia is THE voice. Check out two songs: "Maria Lisboa" and "Primavera" (Spring):

MARIA LISBOA

PRIMAVERA

3 days on radio and still counting

Today was the third day on radio. Still no side effects, but everyone says they will come, mainly tiredness. So, I am waiting. I tried to establish from the radiologist if the radiation they are giving me is like a fine dot entering the body (like if it was a laser) or if it is something bigger covering a small but wider zone. The reason for asking was to understand how I need to protect myself when taking sun. That is my may concern, really. The guy didn't get it and started explaining that, yes they know what they do and that indenpendently of how small or big the radiation is, it is pointing to the cancer spot and it is killing it. I quit and hope to get a better view from the doctor next Monday.

Fait fivers: Did you watch "Up in the air"? Really good movie, funny, good interpretations, different subject. All the part on miles is hilarious, especially because I am all into miles, though I am far from the platinum mark. After I went to the supermarket and couldn't stop laughing at myself when giving the supermarket card for the points and paying with Amex for the membership rewards. That's the miles economy working as I call it.

What an eventful day...and radio rocks

Where to start? Oh! yes...another trip to St Thomas Hospital. Third time lucky I got the right CD-ROM with the PET results. Another freezing crossing of the river (just in case you ask yourselves, I didn't swim, just walked...over the bridge), more tourists taking that special picture in front of the Big Ben (couldn't they create special lanes for tourists?).

Since it was the third time I was in the area I found it was convenient to turn tourist as well and visit the Westminster Abbey. 15 pounds (!!??) to get in (no wonder the donations box is empty). I did the moaning scene and asked the guy if the price included a private mess or if I was entitled to take a rock with me as souvenir. He got the joke, as he was foreigner as well and agreed that ...yes living in London is expensive...but don't mention it to my HR continental staff. For those London is affordable. Anyway, the Abbey should better be called Noble Cemetery, seen the number of noble tombs. Pretty busy really, some are almost on top of each other. A good illustration of London real estate demand! Even in post life. Some parts are beautiful though. And full of history, don't forget Diana's funeral was here. The price must be justified by the number of people working there. Do they really need them? And the finish touch....You can only leave through the...Yes...the shop. There is no other way. Certain things never change in this city. I was not excited in buying old fashion tea cups or illustrations with the Abbey.

Not satisfied enough with my religious incursion I walked to the Westminster Cathedral. This one is catholic while the other is protestant and more famous (the second). The Cathedral is a strange architectural mixture. Not a good example of religious interior design. Pretty ugly to be honest, but at least free. The catholics could learn something with their neighbours. The donations boxes have more use here...no wonder, they need 3,000 pounds per day to keep the church open. Can't they offshore? :-)

And then... reflexology session. Great preparation for the radio. So they say. Can't judge yet which difference it makes. But, it was definitely very good.

Finally, radio. A nurse explains me everyhting again: "you can not move, if we need to move you you don't help, you need to wait till we tell you it is finished" and the best of all..."when the machine starts moving it will get close to you but don't worry as it won't touch you!" Scary, because once under the machine I couldn't stop thinking that for some reason the machine would not stop at all and would crash my face. They have spent like 15 minutes measuring, checking ny position, doing more marks in my arm and chest. In between I felt like a victim of an alien. The big monster watching me from all angles, moving to see where to strike, getting closer and moving away again. And these red and green (at least the colours of Portugal) laser lights going around in the room. Off they go the nurses and leave me alone with the predator and rock music in the background. But I can't dance. The monster makes some noises. I am so stiff thoughout the process that my hands start hurting. It took like 2 minutes and it didn't feel like an eternity. The nurse is back and it is finished. That was quick and easy. Though sweet poison. You don't feel now, but you know something is being cooked inside. You will pay in the next days.

Note: My father passed away a year ago. Life is too short. Time flies. Tic tac tic tac tic tac.

Back and forth

Chemo at Chelsea & Westminster Hospital (C&W). Radio at Charing Cross Imperial College Hospital (CC). PET scan at St Thomas Hospital (ST). I am not complaining. They are not far from each other and I live central. But some stuff...like communication, could work better. Example: The radiologist (CC) wants copies of the PET scan from ST, which are sent to the oncologist (C&W). The oncologist can send them, but it is quicker if I get a copy directly from ST. Yesterday I did the PET scan and they gave me a CD-ROM with the results for the radiologist. Some time after they called me apologizing as the results are from the PET of October, so I should go there again today to pick up the results of the scan of yesterday. Which I did. Picked up good one, left the old one. Half an hour later the radiologist left me a message saying she also needs the results of October!!, which I returned to ST. So, I need to go back tomorrow. I like the Houses of Parliament and the Big Ben, but three days in a row crossing that bridge is a bit too much.

Another PET

No, I did not buy a little pig or even a chihuahua. PET = positron emission tomography. Fancy name for a full body scanner. Boring. I described already the first one back in October, but I didn't recall they injected me some radioactive fluid. So radioactive that I am not supposed to show up with pregant women or children as company, not that the thought had crossed my mind. I did recall they make you rest for an hour and then the scan itself takes half an hour. Since they leave you alone in the room and the scan today seemed to take longer with the machine stopped, I thought that something was wrong. But you can not really leave so I started opening my eyes wide in direction of the video camera. Maybe they could see it and think I was in need of help. In which case if they would show up I could ask if everything was going well. It certainly was. I had also forgotten how hard they are manipulating the cateter. They put it in the middle of my arm, injected the fluid and where usually other nurses remove carefully the plaster and then the needle, here they take everything in a single movement. Like if they were waxing. Bit unpleasant.

Note: Not a good idea to have chicken tikka masala after a fast of more than 12 hours and a PET scan. Not a good idea at all.

Radio on the go

The radio planning has been done...in 15 minutes. You couldn't ask for quicker. And the nurse shot all the explanation speedier than Gonzalez. The bed was hard, as they kept warning, the tattoos (one in the arm, the other in the middle of the chest) are tiny and painfless (they use a needle and ink), and I kept still like a rock. I even tried to memorize every position of legs, arms and hands. I want this to go well. No moves whatsoever (as advertised in all reading material). I just had a doubt about the tattoos. If the point they made is in the middle of the chest how come they will only touch a bit of the lung? By the middle of the chest they reach heart and the full left lung. But the nurse reassured me that the tattoos do not show the area of radiation, but the position of the body. Uff! Done and the nurse told me to go to Maggie's Center (www.maggiescentres.org, see pics enclosed), that "awful" orange building outside. They offer support, like massages, etc. I thought "awful" building? But that is the famous cancer support center praised by its aestethics. You don't really discuss taste. The nurse may prefer the old building where she works to the new Maggie center, an example of cosy place, where cancer patients feel at home. Another example of British philantropy. They offer yoga, massage, relaxation and stress management courses. The lady kept insisting on stress management. I don't know if I can cope with a quiet life, but I might give it a try. Though 6 weeks of course seems a bit too much.

CT scan and released again

What an anxiety. I want to go home...meaning I want to run away from hospital food. But what is the point to go home if you are not fully re-established? Since I am isolated they tend to "forget" me a bit. Consequently, I got a bit irritated when by 09:30 they still hadn't shown up for the blood samples (despite my requests to do it asap). Yesterday they did the blood samples but didn't count the neutrophils. At 10:00 today I had to be at the CT scan. So if they didn't do the blood samples, I would be stuck here due to bureaucracy or lack of organization. They finally arrived and I could go to the scan. I was supposed to drink a liter of water, but the instructions were unclear. I only had 450 ml expecting to have more at the CT office. They think 450 ml is OK, though it left me with the feeling that the results could be wrong because some water is missing. Anyway, they are the pros. The water is to help making the scan clearer. Plus they inject you this fluid that gives a warm feeling and nausea and helps highlighting the parts of the body they need to scan. Since I am so accostumed to chemicals by now, I didn't feel anything. Little fight between departments, the ward had to put me a canular. As they didn't, a doctor had to come downstairs to the CT office to do it!! For your info, last time I did a scan here the CT people did the canular, so why couldn't they do it this time? The doctor did it, but I had another of these doubtful moments: as the doctor is not used to do it, the needle was not correctly positioned and there was a bit of pain. There wasn't really! To complete all this one of the staff comes to me spdaking in Spanish: "You are Spanish no?" Well, indeed no mate, I am Portuguese. But I still showed him my language skills. So there I went to the machine. You lay back, arms behind your head, they give you the fluid and off you go. A voice tells you to breathe in and hold it, you pass the round circle that scans you and then the same voice tells you to breath normally. This takes place twice and you are done. Results available on 01/03. Back to the ward the doctors come to see me. It is OK to leave, though you don't really figure out where their decision lies compared to the previous day. That is, they don't have the neutrophils results yet, but since I am feeling OK, no fever, the white cells are much improved, I can go home. Well, I was like that yesterday as well. Of course, I am back Monday for a routine consultation and they will check the blood again. Interestingly I learned that if the neutrophils are low the machine doesn't count them automatically, a specialist needs to count them manually, like litterally manually, 1, 2, 3....Another team of doctors shows up: I am OK I say, he is OK they say and off they go. As I trust doctors, I shall not play the perfectionist and insist on scientifical bullet proof results that would keep me here for weeks and I go happily home.

Wake me up...not

How quick we forget what happens to us in a hospital. Let me tell you what happened to me since I was re-admitted yesterday. Nothing dramatic...just the proof that is impossible to rest.

15:00 They give me first intravenous antibiotic. We had to stop as I almost throw out, so quick this thing went into my system.

15:15 New antibiotic (they need to flush the hickman line each time). Administered at each 6 hours. They take me the blood pressure and check temperature

16:15 Flush the line after the antibiotic is finished

17:30 The assistant comes with the admission questionnaire (I confirmed my religion is still the same since December)

18:00 Dinner...oh my God!!!! And the assistant comes back for more questions and samples

18:30 Blood pressure and temperature

20:00 They give me a 8 hour bag of fluids

21:00 I am reading and start feeling really sleepy, but at 22:00 I need to take a medicine

21:30 Neutrophil injection

22:00 Get the medicine and go to sleep

23:00 Blood pressure and temperature. Order breakfast.

00:00 New bag of antibiotic

00:20 Flush the line after antibiotic is finished

03:00 Flush the line and new bag of fluids

06:00 New bag of antibiotic

06:20 Flush the line after antibiotic is finished

07:00 Blood pressure and temperature

08:00 Nurse visit

09:00 Breakfast

09:15 Blood samples

09:30 Doctor visit (all going well you may leave in the next three days)

09:45 Different doctor visit (all going well, you may leave today depending on blood samples)

(and since I am isolated they need to put on new gloves and an apron each time)

Don't get me wrong. All this must be done. But it is not simple to try to rest.

Back to hospital...nothing major

Yesterday I vomited dinner and lunch (indeed lunch had not been digested). Today, regular blood samples showed that the neutrophils are slightly low. Putting both facts together doctors decided I should stay for intravenous antibiotics and neutrophils injections. 1 or 2 days. Precaution measure. Back to hospital food.....

Oh! disgrace....TV is back

I finally managed to get Virgin Media to come around and install my TV and broadband. With my in and out of hospital it was not possible to do it before. And I now even have wireless internet. Wow! So quick that my brain needs to adapt. But, TV is a vicious machine....I still have plenty of books to read and DVD's to watch. My stay in hospital was definitely short (thank God and the hospital staff) to catch up. How did I survive 7 years (true) without TV after I came back from Brazil? Clearly I did. First imagine on that screen, that stayed in the dark for 2 months, the Haiti disgrace. I could have stayed in watching for hours, but resisted.

Some other disgrace, or maybe not. It appears that the blood samples I took this morning revealed high levels of sodium?! The nurse think it might be a mistake, but I need to go back. According to "Wikipedia" this could be linked to fluids and kidneys functioning. I am feeling OK, I am feeling OK, I am feeling OK.

Fait divers 1: My Swiss neighbour (door to door, if closer I had to live with her), this beautiful, but unnice girl, managed to open the front door in front of me and not say hello. The feeling is like you are there, she sees you, but she totally ignores you. This wasn't the first time, but she did it again, confirming my previous suspicion that I have the worst neighbours in town. She is not the only one in the building that fills in the category " Let's ignore the neighbours". Next time she is not able to open the front door and rings my bell, it will be pay back time. Oh! Gosh. She followed me to the restaurant and she is sitting now in front of me.

Fait divers 2: The other day a friend said " London is so expensive that when you leave home you are already 200 pounds in negative". I have found this hilarious, not to mention so true.

Fait divers 3: Did you ever feel that your cleaning lady is not working the full hours you have paid for and that she is not cleaning properly? Well that is the way I feel each time she comes by. Veselina, is her name. She complains the ironing takes all her time (if tat least if the end result was good). I have a certain difficulty to communicate with her (maybe the fact that she has a hand cream name!) so anything I need I treat through the agency "Perfect Clean". Perfect? Yeah right!. Anyway, the communication didn't get much better. They convinced me to buy some cleaning products (that I had to search for on internet as I didn't know what they are) just to find out after that I had these products at home. Apart from a language problem my cleaning lady might have another problem with her sight. Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that today I decided to do some ironing (yes I also iron, and very well, I accept commissions if you need a hand). It took me almost 45 minutes to iron 2 duvet covers!!! To perfection. In any case, I might need to concede that the woman needs more time. I will ask her to raise a ticket with my helpdesk and I will investigate her case. lol.

Me again seen by a photographer in the 30's

I saw this photo in a book and couldn't stop laughing thinking of my situation.

It is a autoportrait by Herbert Bayer: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herbert_Bayer. This was a cultural Saturday. Two photograph exhibitions to help educating my persona in view of enriching my collection. For your own personal enrichment: 1 - http://www.hamiltonsgallery.com/ (tour with one of the photographers, Kobi Israel)....you should see the boss' office. OMG, I want the same. 2 - http://www.selmaferiani.com. We also saw the photographer: Rula Halawani, not very friendly :-(. Kobi Israel is jewish and Rula is palestinian. They didn't meet, but when we told Kobi that Rula was not very nice he said it was probably the fault of the israelis. Lol.

Haiti...you can help

As you know we have everything we want in our developped countries...and we still complain. I have a lymphoma, free healthcare, free food (at hospital) and so on. If you had the chance to look at what is going on in Haiti, it is horrendous. Not only they are the poorest country in the world but now they also got this terrible disaster. You can help by donating.

Some sources. Be generous:

For UK, US and international organizations

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8456730.stm

For Portugal

http://www.ami.org.pt/

Let's get graphic

I realized that I tell you about hickman line, radio, but I don't give you a true image so that you get better the real thing. So, here you go an image of a hickman line (not me, sorry to disappoint you) and a radio session (clearly not me!). Enjoy. It doesn't hurt. Well! the line, as the radio I didn't try as of yet.

Putting on weight

"You have even put on weight!" ... the comment, from a colleague, right in the middle of a conversation that clearly meant that looking at my face it seems I have been stuffing myself, felt like 1000 bells ringing in my head. Help! I am putting on weight? But like in the weight is concentrated in my face...yes because the rest is pretty much like in good old days configuration. Oh gosh where is the gym? Miguel doesn't put on weight. Well, I lost a few kilos in the hospital. Normal I would say. But once back home, as a free man, free to choose the food I cook or pay for, I am back to normal. I just miss that extra (not big) bit of muscle that only gym (or a work in building) gives. And I miss gym, I do. I really thought that after chemo was finished I could run to the gym, but nope. The hickman line is still there and I better not have a flash of blood jumping from the line into the exercising neighbour. It wouldn't look good either in the swimming pool. Imagine me going down the stairs from the changing rooms into the pool with some stuff falling from my chest. Enough to scare everyone. The hickman line is not removed before the scanner results. It will take at least three weeks. Then there is radiotherapy. Not good idea either to have gym while roasting my left armpit. Anyway, if there is an advice I can give: exercise. I am absolutely convinced that I took chemo better than others because of all the gym. You may wonder but which gym, because you see me as slim. Well, I am not slim, I am fit. Doubts? In the first week in hospital the doctor asked me to soften the stomach so that she could do a check. Meaning, my stomach was in full abs splendor. Lol, but true! I have to thank G. for all his patience as my gym buddy. Despite feeling he was trying to kill me at each session, I even told him his goal was to see me being taken away in an ambulance, all the pain was worth it. No pain no gain.

While waiting for radio...an exhibition. Overrated!

Overcrowded, overpriced, overrated.
The Victoria & Albert Museum magic formula: a good poster and marketing, a fancy set for the start of the exhibition, a few objects (and I mean few), paintings or drawings doing for the missing objects, some short videos and a lot of merchandising at the shop. The Maharaja exhibition raises a lot of expectations, like all other exhibitions they do. But knowing how rich the Indian kings' culture was/is you can only be disappointed. The Sunday Times described it as a "tremendous" exhibition. I wonder if we saw the same exhibition. It felt a bit like when E. commented the royal jewels exhibition at the Tower of London: "Is this all?" and "This is all fake!". At the Maharaja's there are a few interesting displays though. A few amazing jewels and clothes. But too little. The rest is a lot of beautiful drawings making for the lack of artefacts. And then you need to queue to read the texts. So I quitted and just had a quick look at everything. But the shop is there at the end with a rich display of objects they want you to buy. All this for 11 GBP. Better go to the medieval section of the museum. Free, better would be to be paid if the overall price we bear to have a free museum is to have disappointing temporary exhibitions. In the medieval section they have among others this huge column of some roman emperor. I wonder if they have paid for it or if they just "borrowed' it.

Another fait divers: The Sherlock Holmes is worth watching. Another good story with the detective, fantastic performance by Robert Downey Jr and the cemetery scene takes place at the Old Brompton cemetery just around my place. Where I take my nephews to see the squirrels. They didn't get what we were doing at the cemetery (my nephews, not the squirrels) as in Portugal a cemetery is a sacred place or close ot it. But I like it.

Radio radio radio...not for tomorrow :-(

After hickman line cleaning at C&W Hospital I had radiotherapy appointment at Charing Cross Hospital. Not in Charing Cross, as I originally thought (thank God I checked first or would have ended up in the other side of town) but in Fulham, not far from home. The hospital is a Imperial College NHS Trust, so, full of medical students. Dr. T. welcomed me with two students. As usual they asked if the students could attend. I said of course as long as they don't ask stupid questions. You remember the last time when after 15 minutes the guy stated: 'Oh! So you know you have a cancer!!!!". They were cute and being a guinea pig can be fun. This time they even got to touch the hickman line and I entertained them while Dr. T went to get the consultant (the big brain Dr. P.). I gave a quick course on how chemo feels like!! But going back to radiotherapy. I thought I would get there and tomorrow we would start. Nope. They need to see more exams (the originals); speak to Prof B.; within 2 weeks they will get me an appointment to do the radiotherapy planning and within 8 to 10 days after we can start. Boring....I went saying we can start tomorrow. But it didn't work. This won't start before February. However, good news it won't be for 6 weeks, but only 4. More good news they are pretty confident that it will be a easy ride for me and will kill the lymphoma....bad news they will touch the left lung!!!! but just a bit...and as I don't smoke I won't risk a cancer....just a fibrosis. Nothing special they say. I just need to remember, in future, if I have a lung X-Ray to tell the radiologists that I had radiotherapy. I don't know if I should be too relieved. Also, I can forget exposure to the sun, only in the radiotherapy location, for the rest of my life (Oh My God). Otherwise, I can enlist myself to a skin cancer treatment. But with strong protection it is OK. Oh! and I will get a tattoo to mark the radiotherapy location...nothing fancy like a siren, just two tiny dots. I joked with the doctor saying I would tattoo "DON'T TAKE SUN HERE".

Fait Divers:
1 - Leaving the hospital I wondered where to have lunch when I spotted Pizza Express. You might recall how desperate I was in my last day in hospital to have a pizza romana from Pizza Express. So I went for it with a big smile and excited stomach. Made my choice, the pizza arrives and oh horror and disappointment, there were anchovies, which I hate. I asked if the menu mentioned anchovies, the waitress said yes and then in typical British client-focus she offered to take it back and do me a new one! She made my day. Pizza romana "siciliana". Delicious.
2 - I went to the Thomas Macaulay Ward to say hi to the staff and deliver a little gift to M. the Portuguese assistant. Being Portuguese she treated me better than anyone else and I thought I could give her a little something. I called her aside and asked her not to show to everyone as I was not distributing gifts (yet) to all staff. She was very happy. I then went to speak to other staff and when leaving I could see M. in the staff room opening the gift for all her colleagues to see! Some people never learn.
3- Cinema moment: "It's complicated" with Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin. I recommend. Meryl at her best, good performances, not the typical silly comedy. Interesting cinema crowd: mostly women in their forties, fifties and sixties and middle age couples. It confirms what the critics say. Hollywood is being taken over by elder women actresses giving women movies they want to watch. Well and men as well.
4-When writing the post I had to confirm how to write "siren", but I wrote "syren" in google. Syren is a thai porn actress. Well done for you syren. Even syrens can be entertainers!!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, Monday 11th January 2010 is time for another cleaning of the hickman line (they can't take it out until they can the scanner results) and consultation with the radiotherapy specialists to determine the treatment that will follow. I will keep you informed.

"Parce que je veux bien"

Because I am worth it as per L'Oreal. I recalled this line during my visit to my company's office. It was good to see current and old colleagues. And they all say I look good. I wonder if they were just expecting a dreadful cancer look and it turned I look normal or I just look really good. But taking into account the compliments on my face skin and shaved head I conclude I definitely look good. So, I started joking. "If you want the same look go chemo". And there we go, a new cosmetic industry goldmine, better than botox, "Chemo parce que je veux bien". I will suggest to the NHS a joint venture (I do the marketing, they deliver the cure), they would solve their financial problems in no time. I can see those old californian style ladies (and a few men) queuing for a drip of chemo. No pain no pain, but the results are outstanding. :-)

As promised

On a previous post, here is the illustration of my good mood in the New Year. In part the consequence of the good company and maybe also the effect of the two glasses of champagne of the previous day. After so much water champagne brings your spirit up.

What to do with your free time while killing a lymphoma?

For instance, go to the cinema. Session 15:00. You and 300 empty chairs, until the retired and the teenagers start arriving. And this is the typical audience ...at 15:00. The sick (in recovery), the retired and teenagers. At least everyone behaved. But going to the cinema, namely here is an experience that I enjoy less and less. First, the price: It went up again. Now it stands at 10 GBP. I looked at the seller and said "Again?! For this price do I get to sit with the main actress?". Therefore, I decided to make the unlimited card at 16.50 GBP per month. I can see as many movies as I want (but do you really do it?). However, little detail, the cinemas in my Borough (The Royal one and only) are more expensive. Consequently, the card is more expensive! Rich neighbourhood, expensive cinema. I will try to argue that I am not a banker. Second, the advertising: the session starts at 15:00. That is, the advertising starts at 15:00 and runs for 25 minutes. Now, I paid 10 GBP already and still have to take 25 minutes of advertising? Who asked for it? Third, the popcorn: I simply hate these fuckers eating, touching, making noises with the popcorn (not to mention the smell of the guacamole). I am paying 10 GBP to watch a movie, let me enjoy it without sound effects around me. If I had a knife with me I could stick it 3 or 4 times on my neighbour until his head fell into his popcorn box. The other day these 2 Spanish girls were driving me so nuts to the point that I turned to them and told them in the best possible Spanish that either they stopped making noise or I would!!!! Like that. Lol. Fourth, that little light above your head: these lights that they keep switched for some security reason, but that always fall above your head. Cinema is an experience where there is a dark room and a screen shooting images. Just that. No little lights above your head!

Anyway, I went to see NINE, which I recommend. Quite a feast for your eyes and all actors can indeed sing. And I launch a challenge. If you saw the movie or will see it, let me know where you catch D&G. Yes the real Dolce and Gabbana show up very quickly in the movie. So pay attention.

Service update

Technically speaking I am doing very well. Feeling OK. No spam, service interruptions, outages. Coca Cola still doesn't taste ok, but even that will come back. Hair starts considering growing again. Today I saw Prof. B. Some of the medicine was dropped. I will have a scanner on the 21st then see him again the week after. And a new PET is being scheduled for the same time. Only then we can conclude for the effectiveness of the chemo and decide if the hickman line can be removed. The nurse decided to have a go at me when I asked how they will do it: "Oh! they will simply push it out". "What do you mean? No anesthetics?" I said. But I was reassured that yes the procedure will be like when they have put it on me. I won't feel anything. And by the way I need to visit hospital every week to flash the line. So, basically I am a bit stuck. And finally, radiotherapy. Side effects: skin bit burned, sensitive and fatigue. It is going to take place at the Charing Cross Hospital. 5 minutes a day of radio. For six weeks!!!!!???? SIX weeks? I hope this is just Prof. B. extrapolating. Well, I don't hope anything. It is the treament, so what must be must be. The important is to be really well at the end. No idea when they can start it. Charing Cross Hospital needs to write me. Fingers crossed so that it starts asap.

Better than paracetamol...Harrods sales

Well....I am sick, but not dead or handicaped. Consequently, going out on sales is part of the cure. And what happened to me today at Harrods was better than neutrophils boost injections, alcaline solutions or blood transfusions....it wasn't painful, not even for the credit card. :-). I shall share the experience with you: I was going around trying to find a pullover and after an intense search I was ready to call it out since there was literally nothing to buy and my patience is short these days. I detained myself for a last attempt at a range of clothes they were announcing at 50 GBP and less. A range of shirts. And the first item is this long blue coat SMILING at me (literally calling my name). My brain tried to adjust quickly to the relation item and price. But I was quickly called back to earth. The coat couldn't cost 50 GBP!!! Not a Raf Simons 100% wool (almost looks like cashmere). I looked for the price tag and surprise surprise the coat was significantly more expensive. Disappointed I teased the little and nice female shop assistant: "Darling so this coat costs 50 GBP then? Can I have it in different colours?". And she goes: "Oh! No. You wish, you wish, I will also buy it. It must be misplaced". I confirmed the price with her and she insisted I tried it. Next thing, we had an Ally MacBeal moment, when in the series everything turned crazy and there were like allucinations. That is, I looked myself at the mirror and the coat has Miguel Miguel Miguel written all over and says take me home, take me home. You got it. The coat fitted me perfectly!
Well except that it fits too perfectly and since I lost some kilos, when I get them back what do I do with the coat? But with the shop's assistant help I concluded that I am basically missing muscle in the upper side and that is still manageable under such a beautiful coat. But the price!!! Not to mention that there is a little detail!!! The coat, instead of a pocket on the left up side, it has this kind of window with a metal underneath (almost a mirror!). Indeed, it turns to play the effect of a half heart. Cute! Nothing that my mother can't fix. Anyway, price is a problem. And the shop assistant goes: "Let me check, we might have reduced further the price". She comes back with a big smile and my heart starts beating faster. The coat was half half the initial price!!!!!! What? This is like winning the Euromillions but reverse, you dont really win anything, you just spend much less. I save you the details of the price. Mr Simons isn't cheap and my taste either, but if you imagine that the original price was 100 and what I read as sale price was 50, it turned to be 25 and I still had a 10% discount as Harrods client. If this was not my day, if 2010 is not my year...this is a luck sign! So, done deal. I don't know who was more excited, the shop assistant, myself (on cloud nine), my Amex? Got home all excited, tried the coat...it is black! not blue. But still amazing on me :-) and the laughing goes on. Go shopping, have fun.

http://www.rafsimons.com/collections/aw-09/

Laughing is good

Hi, Hi 2010. Here we are already, quick and easy. I have spent the two last days in very good physical and mental mood. If it wasn't for my loss of muscle and weight, I would have thought nothing has happened in the last 3 months. Nothing extraordinary! I don't know if it is the result of an overdose of paracetamol (just kidding! I just had 4 pills in two days) , two glasses of champagne (yes I have allowed myself some alchool after three months of water and water and water) or just the company of my friend C. that was very kind to spend New Year's eve with me. I have been laughing for two days. In such an unexpected manner, that I found myself saying several times: "C. this is not normal, this is not normal!!"....and the laughing goes on (I will get you a picture to prove the point). Maybe I expected normal to be "once you go chemo you never come back". I hope the old me is just settling now and chemo may be definitely abandoning my blood, not the least my brain. Yo! let's keep up the good work.