Chapter 7
I diligently continued with my daily appointments and it was a very cold, snowy winter in the Barrie area. I was so fortunate that I was able to stay with Sherry during the week as she lived only twenty minutes from the Cancer Centre.
For the first time in my life I actually put snow tires on my car to make my daily drive safer on the back roads of Oro Medonte. I could not risk missing appointments getting stuck in the snow. The drive from Bracebridge was easily an hour in good weather. But during the bad winter weather with all the snow and ice that time could easily more than double.
A twenty minute drive to Sherry’s house after my treatments was so much easier and safer.
Mondays were always my longest day at the Cancer Centre.
For the first time in my life I actually put snow tires on my car to make my daily drive safer on the back roads of Oro Medonte. I could not risk missing appointments getting stuck in the snow. The drive from Bracebridge was easily an hour in good weather. But during the bad winter weather with all the snow and ice that time could easily more than double.
A twenty minute drive to Sherry’s house after my treatments was so much easier and safer.
Mondays were always my longest day at the Cancer Centre.
First I would have my daily morning radiation downstairs. After I headed up to the ground level for my consultation with Dr. N and then my bloodwork. I then just hung around and found myself a cozy chair and read newspapers to kill time. If all my blood counts were good, I would head upstairs in the early afternoon for my chemo bottle refill. I would usually get back to Sherry’s around 3 pm and I was always totally exhausted.
For the most part I was tolerating my treatments pretty well. I had no hair loss during this round of chemo and I did a great job maintaining my weight. On the weekends we would head up to Bracebridge for a bit of a break. During the five weeks of chemo/rad I was able to squeeze in six gym visits and some intense cardio. I had read that sweating was a great way to release the toxins from chemo out of your system.
Sweating is something that I have always excelled at.
I soon realized that the cancer fight does not come without some pretty embarrassing moments.
For the most part I was tolerating my treatments pretty well. I had no hair loss during this round of chemo and I did a great job maintaining my weight. On the weekends we would head up to Bracebridge for a bit of a break. During the five weeks of chemo/rad I was able to squeeze in six gym visits and some intense cardio. I had read that sweating was a great way to release the toxins from chemo out of your system.
Sweating is something that I have always excelled at.
I soon realized that the cancer fight does not come without some pretty embarrassing moments.
You learn pretty quickly that your dignity goes right out the window.
Like the day when I was marked with the three black dot tattoos for my radiation. I was the lucky guy on that day. I had three very attractive women techs who would be determining the exact position of my tumour and then marking it. This is a very crucial step and needs to be done with precision so the radiation beams will hit the tumour and the tumour only.
So there I was with my loose fitting gown lying face down on a table and my private parts all exposed. One of the techs is spreading my ass cheeks wide apart while another tech is inserting a metal wand that resembled a skinny vibrator up my ass. The third tech is watching the monitor.
After minutes of fiddling it was determined I had pockets of gas in my rectal area and the procedure had to be stopped. One of the techs told me I needed to walk around to release the gas.
Seriously?
Sherry was in the waiting room and when she saw me she thought I was finished,
“Nope,” I told her.
“I need to walk around and fart to get rid of my gas,” I said laughing.
So there I was with my loose fitting gown lying face down on a table and my private parts all exposed. One of the techs is spreading my ass cheeks wide apart while another tech is inserting a metal wand that resembled a skinny vibrator up my ass. The third tech is watching the monitor.
After minutes of fiddling it was determined I had pockets of gas in my rectal area and the procedure had to be stopped. One of the techs told me I needed to walk around to release the gas.
Seriously?
Sherry was in the waiting room and when she saw me she thought I was finished,
“Nope,” I told her.
“I need to walk around and fart to get rid of my gas,” I said laughing.
After about ten minutes and lots of farting the procedure was able to be completed. I left without a shred of dignity that day after I got my first three tattoos. The three attractive women techs most likely had a few chuckles at my expense over our encounter.
Then there was the time Stephanie came for a visit that Christmas. It would be her first time meeting Sherry, Jenn and the rest of Sherry’s family. It was so great to have her there. Sherry and I decided we were going to drive down and pick up Steph when she arrived at the airport on the Saturday before Christmas. I had a hotel voucher we would use on the Friday night. That way we would not be so rushed getting to the airport and we could spend a leisurely day in Toronto.
We decided we would have dinner at The Pickle Barrel before heading over to the hotel which was a block away. One of the side effects of chemo is the urgency to suddenly have a loose bowel movement. After dinner I felt a slight urge, but decided to wait until I was in our hotel room rather than use the restaurant's public facilities.
It would end up being a bad decision.
I never made it and just before we entered the hotel lobby I shit my pants. It was my first ever shit my pants accident, I had never shit my pants before. I quickly learned that after shitting your pants you walk a lot differently. Actually I didn't walk; I waddled over to the elevator.
Surprise!
Waiting there was one of my hockey buddies from our Tuesday night Port Carling group. He was there for a wedding that weekend as the three of us all got on the same elevator. I could feel the shit sloshing in my pants while I stood in the corner making small talk on the way up to his fifth floor exit. We got off at the eighth floor and I spent a good hour cleaning up.
Then there was the time Stephanie came for a visit that Christmas. It would be her first time meeting Sherry, Jenn and the rest of Sherry’s family. It was so great to have her there. Sherry and I decided we were going to drive down and pick up Steph when she arrived at the airport on the Saturday before Christmas. I had a hotel voucher we would use on the Friday night. That way we would not be so rushed getting to the airport and we could spend a leisurely day in Toronto.
We decided we would have dinner at The Pickle Barrel before heading over to the hotel which was a block away. One of the side effects of chemo is the urgency to suddenly have a loose bowel movement. After dinner I felt a slight urge, but decided to wait until I was in our hotel room rather than use the restaurant's public facilities.
It would end up being a bad decision.
I never made it and just before we entered the hotel lobby I shit my pants. It was my first ever shit my pants accident, I had never shit my pants before. I quickly learned that after shitting your pants you walk a lot differently. Actually I didn't walk; I waddled over to the elevator.
Surprise!
Waiting there was one of my hockey buddies from our Tuesday night Port Carling group. He was there for a wedding that weekend as the three of us all got on the same elevator. I could feel the shit sloshing in my pants while I stood in the corner making small talk on the way up to his fifth floor exit. We got off at the eighth floor and I spent a good hour cleaning up.
What a fuck’n mess.
Sherry and I had a good laugh over that one. I mean what else could we do?
Shit happens.
I wonder what the odds would be after the first time you shit your pants you get on an elevator with a buddy in another city a hundred miles from home?
Pretty slim I bet.
I wonder what the odds would be after the first time you shit your pants you get on an elevator with a buddy in another city a hundred miles from home?
Pretty slim I bet.
It would be like a pony winning the Kentucky Derby.