After having the tumor removed and making through chemotherapy, it is all over but the testing, lots and lots of testing. Today was hopefully the last of one of the weirder set of tests I had to endure. Today I had to see if, well, um, I still have swimmers.
They make a big deal out of telling you that you may be sterile after chemo. But then they tell you dozens of stories of people who have fathered children after having this particular chemo (people like Lance Armstrong). And I have heard lots of anecdotal evidence from people as well that have fathered children after chemo. Today's test will tell me if I can be one of those people. I am more than a little anxious about the results. It is not a big deal either way, we have some frozen guys, I am just a little concerned (without any scientific basis) about freezer burn smelling babies. Normally, I would be doing tons of internet research on the subject, like if you are sterile at first does it sometimes come back later on, and stuff like that. This time, I just want to hear my results, which are two days away...a long two days away. If I find out they are not swimming, then I will do research to see if they end up swimming later on. But right now, I am just hoping to hear good news.
While checking in, some insurance info had changed since I made my "deposit" at the "bank" before surgery. The nurse was asking me about my treatment and everything else, and I got a lot of "I'm sorry"s and "Oh, that's too bad"s and every time I explained why I didn't necessarily see them as a bad thing. I think things happen for a reason, and as cancer goes, or even life, I am doing better than a lot of other people. I can't complain. The nurse said, "You sure have a way of putting a positive spin on everything." Really? What am I supposed to do? I have said this before and I truly believe it, cancer is the one disease where attitude seems to really affect the prognosis. My prognosis never was that I was going to die or anything, but my treatment could have gone smoother too. But what good does it do to fret about it? For someone in the medical field to be surprised that I am happy to be a unemployed cancer patient/survivor just shows that she doesn't comprehend how much better that is than being a victim of cancer. I don't know why, but for some reason the whole exchange with her kind of bothered me. About the only thing that was going to get my mind off of it was to look at a bunch of porn. As luck would have it, she took me to a room to do just that!
This being my third visit, I felt like an old pro. The bad thing is, it is the same "educational magazines" and "documentaries" as the other two times. And someone really needs to learn some etiquette on magazine care and maintenance. I don't remember the centerfolds being wadded up and shoved in the magazines last time I was in there, so I am assuming it was one guy who was in a real hurry with all of the centerfolds. And who rips pages out of a magazine at the sperm bank?!?! I mean, we all know what people are doing with those magazines. They pretty much have that same purpose in the real world, but in this environment, that activity is their sole purpose. I don't even like touching them to turn the pages (well, the pages you can turn) much less rip out a page and take it home with me? And how do you get it home? Are you going to walk through a hospital annex proudly waving your latest art acquisition? Are you going to fold it up to hide it? Won't the creases ruin it much like they ruined all the centerfolds? And while I am on the subject of this type of material, I have never really been a connoisseur of the films. Don't get me wrong, I have stumbled across the occasional one on Showtime or HBO late at night, but they are not near as in depth as these documentaries were. And while the documentaries were running it dawned on me that the "hardcore" documentaries are really just horrible. I am sure some people must appreciate them, but the one that was on the TV when I got in there today, didn't look like much fun for any of the parties involved, and there were an awful lot of parties involved.
At any rate, I was able to complete the test and after scrubbing all of the dirtiness off of me, walked out of the lab. As you leave the hospital grounds, you have the weird sense of guilt that you are certain that everyone knows what you just finished doing and they are looking down on you. I guess as far as tests go, it could have been worse. I will take this over a colonoscopy or CATscan any day (although I think I did see those in one of the videos there). I think other tests would be more tolerable if they provided dirty magazines. I think I will take a few to my chest X-ray in a couple of weeks. Maybe I should start slow and just bring a Paul Reed Smith Guitars catalog with me instead.
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