One week from tomorrow
I have decided that if I haven't gotten permission to use the song lyrics by the end of this week, I'm going to remove them and proceed with publishing the book. I finished going through the whole manuscript one last time today and decided that although the lyrics from Remember Your Chains are extremely meaningful for me, the book doesn't suffer if I remove them.
I found several very minor things that need to be changed before I submit the file to the publisher and my editor is going out of town tomorrow through the weekend. So he emailed me that he will make the final changes Monday and get the new file back to me Tuesday. John will have a long day of treatment on Tuesday and I won't be home. But Wednesday is supposed to be a shorter day, so I can probably submit the book one week from tomorrow. I'm confident the cover will be ready this week. So there shouldn't be any obstacles at this point.
John will begin chemo Tuesday and will receive infusions daily from Tuesday through Friday of next week. Tuesday and Thursday will be long days (up to seven hours). Wednesday and Friday the infusions won't take as long. We will probably only have to be in the clinic for a couple of hours those days (certain drugs are administered at different rates and you can receive them in a shorter period of time).
He will be getting the standard CLL therapy of FCR (three separate drugs) and possibly an additional fourth experimental drug, Lumiliximab. We will know which group he's in prior to treatment. But it's a computer randomized selection.
His marrow is only 30% infiltrated with CLL. His blood is almost normal. But his lymph nodes are enormous everywhere. He has some very large ones in his abdomen, which are probably the cause of his extremely severe reflux symptoms. His reflux has gotten so bad lately. And Dr. Flinn said the nodes push everything up when they get this large. So it's likely that those symptoms will lessen as the nodes shrink.
John is the clinic clown. He is pure entertainment the whole time we're there. He cracks up the doctor, the nurses, everybody he crosses paths with. Today Dr. Flinn concluded our visit by saying, "So I guess we're ready to go on this." And John started singing..."Let's get it started..."
Anybody who can entertain while having a bone marrow biopsy is a born entertainer. That's all I can say.
Oh yeah, Dr. Flinn asked John, "So, how have you been feeling?"
And John said, "Good!"
And I told Dr. Flinn, "I never get mad at this man. He is the easiest person to get along with that I have ever known. But if I WERE ever going to get mad at him, I would get mad at him for ALWAYS telling everyone -- including you -- how GOOD he's doing. He's been feeling like crap and he will tell me. But he will never tell anybody else. So I just wind up looking like a big fat liar."
There. Got that off my chest.
On the way home, he was teasing me about my rant. I said, "Well, I draw the line at you telling the doctor you feel good." He said, "I just thought he meant aside from my CLL. He knows I'm not feeling great. I'm starting chemo. I wouldn't be starting chemo if I was feeling great. It goes without saying."
I can't win this one. But if you really want to know, ask me. I will tell you the truth. John considers that whining. Lord help him if I ever get seriously ill. There will be whining. I can promise you that.
I found several very minor things that need to be changed before I submit the file to the publisher and my editor is going out of town tomorrow through the weekend. So he emailed me that he will make the final changes Monday and get the new file back to me Tuesday. John will have a long day of treatment on Tuesday and I won't be home. But Wednesday is supposed to be a shorter day, so I can probably submit the book one week from tomorrow. I'm confident the cover will be ready this week. So there shouldn't be any obstacles at this point.
John will begin chemo Tuesday and will receive infusions daily from Tuesday through Friday of next week. Tuesday and Thursday will be long days (up to seven hours). Wednesday and Friday the infusions won't take as long. We will probably only have to be in the clinic for a couple of hours those days (certain drugs are administered at different rates and you can receive them in a shorter period of time).
He will be getting the standard CLL therapy of FCR (three separate drugs) and possibly an additional fourth experimental drug, Lumiliximab. We will know which group he's in prior to treatment. But it's a computer randomized selection.
His marrow is only 30% infiltrated with CLL. His blood is almost normal. But his lymph nodes are enormous everywhere. He has some very large ones in his abdomen, which are probably the cause of his extremely severe reflux symptoms. His reflux has gotten so bad lately. And Dr. Flinn said the nodes push everything up when they get this large. So it's likely that those symptoms will lessen as the nodes shrink.
John is the clinic clown. He is pure entertainment the whole time we're there. He cracks up the doctor, the nurses, everybody he crosses paths with. Today Dr. Flinn concluded our visit by saying, "So I guess we're ready to go on this." And John started singing..."Let's get it started..."
Anybody who can entertain while having a bone marrow biopsy is a born entertainer. That's all I can say.
Oh yeah, Dr. Flinn asked John, "So, how have you been feeling?"
And John said, "Good!"
And I told Dr. Flinn, "I never get mad at this man. He is the easiest person to get along with that I have ever known. But if I WERE ever going to get mad at him, I would get mad at him for ALWAYS telling everyone -- including you -- how GOOD he's doing. He's been feeling like crap and he will tell me. But he will never tell anybody else. So I just wind up looking like a big fat liar."
There. Got that off my chest.
On the way home, he was teasing me about my rant. I said, "Well, I draw the line at you telling the doctor you feel good." He said, "I just thought he meant aside from my CLL. He knows I'm not feeling great. I'm starting chemo. I wouldn't be starting chemo if I was feeling great. It goes without saying."
I can't win this one. But if you really want to know, ask me. I will tell you the truth. John considers that whining. Lord help him if I ever get seriously ill. There will be whining. I can promise you that.
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