Let’s hear it for #22!

Here’s one more way Brian Leetch and I are alike (not the record part – the last bit) :

“Boston’s Brian Leetch scored in the first period and assisted on Nick Boynton’s goal in the second to become the seventh defenseman — and 69th player — in NHL history to reach 1,000 career points.

‘I hope they don’t mention I was on the ice for all four goals in the loss,’ said Leetch, taking care of that himself. ‘Hopefully they won’t remember that, because that was disappointing.’ ”
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Ten down, one to go…

Yesterday, my white blood cells were back up to above-normal levels, so I got to have my chemo treatment. Two more to go now!

I think my body got used to not having chemo after three weeks, ’cause it seemed to hit me harder than usual afterwards. Back to the old school tired. This morning I don’t feel too bad though.

Now it’s off for a PET scan to see just how much of the cancer’s ass we’ve kicked. Time to go drink some gross drinks and sit around for awhile. Yay.

And this afternoon, I am NOT going to forget my Neulasta!

Now we’re 1-4

Well, we lost last night’s game, but I think we all felt better about this one. The score definitely didn’t reflect the effort we put out this time. They just had three or four really good players who would skate through us and fake out the goalie. Final score: 10-5. Ouch. We did manage to get a short handed goal on them, though.

I feel a lot better about this game and my playing than I did last week. I think as long as the team plays well and tries hard, that makes me feel and skate better. I wound up being -2 for the night, even after being on the rink for two goals. I had a part in both of those goals, as I was doing my usual excellent job of screening the goalie. I might have gotten credit for one of them, but I don’t know, simply because I’m not sure of how it went into the net.

All in all, a much better game, and probably the best I’ve skated/played so far. The season’s finally starting to look up! For me, anyways.

Bad, but not horrible news

Some bad news on the chemo front – my white blood cell count was too low to get my treatment. I guess that Neulasta shot is doing something besides making me sore and tired after all. What does this mean? Well, first, it means I’m really depressed. Second, it means the treatment gets put off for a week. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do to make my body produce more white cells. Luckily, there’s also not much I can do to prevent it from making them either. So now it’s just a waiting game until next Thursday, then we’ll do another blood test and see where I stand. Ugh.
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Now we’re 1-3. Ugh.

Well, another crappy night of hockey. Not quite as bad as my initial game, but pretty close, especially since I couldn’t blame the skates this time. I think I’m still not quite recovered from the cold I picked up awhile back. I just hope it hasn’t killed off enough white blood cells to keep me from getting my chemo today.
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Sick and Tired

Well, no hockey last night. There was hockey to be played, but I couldn’t play it. I wound up catching a cold/flu type of thing from Barb, naturally right after my last treatment. I’ve been recovering ever since. Yesterday most of the congestion and stuff was gone, but every muscle in my body was unbelievably weak. I had to sit out my first game.

On the plus side, I was going through some of the Hodgkin’s message boards the other day and discovered that I actually am rather tough and unbelievable. Possibly even badass. There were many posts where the poster would talk about how long it took them to recover from each treatment, or people who had their last treatment a month ago and are wondering when they’ll be able to walk up a flight of stairs without losing their breath.

I’m playing hockey and I still have three treatments to go.

In some ways, it makes me feel better, realizing that I really am tough when it comes to this stuff and understanding why the doctors and nurses look at me the way they do. On the other hand, when I feel like I feel now, I can’t just give in to the tired. I know that I’m stronger than this and it shouldn’t be bothering me, even though in all reality it probably should. It’s just a continuation of a neverending tug of war in my brain. Just one more way to beat myself up, I guess.

Next week, I’m back in the rink though. Just watch me.

We’re now 1-1

What a difference a pair of skates make. I went and bought some larger skates on Tuesday and that took care of 90% of my suck. These are nice and roomy and fit my feet well. Interestingly enough, the guy who sold them to me has a wife who’s 80% done with her own chemotherapy.

Does everyone have cancer? It’s getting so played out.

So I was skating much better last night (Barb said I actually looked like a hockey player of some sort) AND I even got a goal!
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I Am A Fucking Idiot

Word of warning in case you didn’t read the title – this is a post to hide from the kids. If everyone gathers around the computer to see what Unkie Brian has been up to, send the little ones to bed and tell them I’m having a happy wonderful time.
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Purple is the New Black

So I’ve reached that most exciting of days in every hockey player’s life – new gear! Well, some pieces anyways. Couple of jerseys, some new pants and a wicked cool shirt/pads thing to protect my port. I wasn’t sure how well it would work just looking at the pictures, but it turns out that my port fits right in between two of the foam cells (all bordered by the white lines in the drawings), so it’s about as protected as it can get. Even more than if it were covered by one of the cells. Rockin’!

I was planning on making this a longer entry, going into me deciding again to post every night, maybe discussing some future website plans (hint: comments for real), maybe talking about work. Then I realized that the air conditioner was off today and it’s a bit toasty up here. Down to the second floor I go…

Another Amazing Revelation

So this past weekend, Barb and I are watching a VH1 special about the KISS Alive album. I discovered that yet again, I had been living a lie. I could’ve sworn the guy with the star on his face was Ace Frehley. Turns out it’s Paul Stanley. Live and learn. Peter Criss is still the creepiest of the bunch. I also left with the feeling that the whole KISS phenomenon was some little mental exercise Gene Simmons was playing on the world.