gridlore: One of the "Madagascar" penguins with a checklist: [x] cute [x] cuddly [x] psychotic (Penguin - Checklist)
Today, I had to go out and drop off records requests at a couple of hospitals. My new psychologist wants complete records of my treatment for my stroke, which makes sense. One of these hospitals is O'Connor, where I was brought into the ER and did my first week or so of intensive treatment.

[personal profile] kshandra had done the grunt work of filling out the forms, all I had to do was drop them off. I lucked out and got the best disabled slot in the parking structure, walked in, dropped off my forms and walked back. Now, this spot is literally just inside the structure, so I stopped while still in the sunshine to fish my keys out of my pocket. While I was doing this, a human prune walked up beside me.

"Hmph" she sniffed, through a face that had last smiled during the Nixon administration, "look at that. How do you think that asshole conned a doctor into giving him a placard?"

Remember, I'm standing there 5 feet from my truck using a cane with my car keys in my hand.

"I don't know," I said in tones of mock concern, "but judging by the truck and the cooler in the back, I'm going to guess a Transient Ischemic Attack centered in the Left Parietal Lobe causing minor proprioception issues in the right extremities along with related stroke damage as well as Peripheral Neuropathy in both legs, most likely caused by the ABVD chemotherapy used to treat Stage IV-B Hodgkin's Lymphoma. But that's just a guess." I hobbled over to my truck and opened the door, looking up to where she was still stuck somewhere between embarrassed and angry, so I could tell her that the ER could help her with getting her bitchy, judgemental, head out of her sorry ass.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Penguin - Wobble)
Had my surgery. Which ended up being, well. . . weird.

No, not going into more detail. Let's just say there were a few last minute changes to the plan.

Don't remember anything. Although I was evidently at least moderately coherent in a "talking in my sleep" kind of way under the twilight anesthesia.

Now taking it very easy on pain meds.

Going back to bed.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Default)
(crossposted from, and by, [personal profile] kshandra)

I was close; "3pm" in hospitalese turned out to be about 5pm. There was a stop for discharge scripts (a potassium supplement and Medication #3 for the oral thrush), and then we came home. He's in the bedroom now, having just gotten off the phone with his mom.

We are still, as I said in the email to my boss that led to the matching funds for the Indiegogo campaign, "both scared, and both trying to hide it from each other, but we both know each other too well for it to work." But for right now, he's home, and I have to let that be enough.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Penguin - Wobble)
(crossposted from, and by, [personal profile] kshandra)

I'll start with today's news: [personal profile] gridlore is due to be released around 3pm today. (Which is probably 6pm in hospitalese, but we're used to it by now.) Nothing official yet as to what might be wrong, but he saw a specialist yesterday who had some theories, and we'll say more about that when we get confirmation.

Yesterday, however, was fucking difficult for both of us.

I arrived at lunchtime to discover that Doug was on isolation protocol - mask, gloves, and gown - while they checked him for C. diff. Adding insult to injury, the isolation gowns didn't fit me; the nurse cleared me to go in without one, but it was just one more dig I didn't need.

I got back to the office after a couple of hours with Doug and was immediately greeted with two phonecalls one of my co-irkers had mishandled, a round of Geek Answer Syndrome as both of my co-irkers tried to brainstorm what had happened to Doug that I finally had to shut down before I ran out of the building screaming, and a call to a prospective customer (attempting to do damage control on one of the earlier fuckups) who promptly began trying to railroad me into doing things that weren't physically possible. I wound up staying two hours late just so I had time to myself in the building and could actually get some work done. (I'm still under 40hrs for the week, thanks to Thursday's ER trip, so I didn't mind much.)

I was already burnt out when I got back to the hospital in the evening, and Doug wasn't much better, so I didn't stay long. I knew I wasn't going to sleep when I got home, though, so I found a How It's Made marathon on TV (I was hoping for Bourdain, but it was still nicely soothing) and did a little work on the crowdfunding campaign. (We broke 20% last night/this morning!) Finally crawled into bed around 11:30, but didn't fall asleep right away, which was just as well, because it meant I was awake when my phone pinged:

cut for emetophobes )

Before I left last night, I let Doug know that I was planning to spend the morning at home; the Rock & Roll Marathon has half the streets between home and the hospital closed until 1pm, and I had errands that needed doing. And truth be told, I needed a break - I'm pretty sure I've been in Crisis Mode since his last hospital stay last month, and neither of us can afford for me to crash in the middle of all of this. So I've got more How It's Made on the TV (this time courtesy of YouTube and the Roku player I got for my birthday) and laundry in the dryer (which appears to have actually stayed fixed this time, thank g_d, because I'd be in jail for killing our landlord if it hadn't worked today), and I'll head over once I have a clean change of clothes for him.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Fail Black)
(crossposted from - and by - [personal profile] kshandra)

Tonight's story actually starts on Sunday afternoon; those of you who follow us elsewhere on social media have already heard this part. [personal profile] gridlore and I spent a couple of delightful hours at the welcome-home party for [livejournal.com profile] johnnyeponymous's twin boys (I got to hold one of them! It was awesome!), then decided we would go hide at the mall for a while after that, as it was still 87 bazillion degrees out. We got drinks at Pizza My Heart and sat for a bit, then were getting ready to walk over to the Giants Dugout store to see what might be on sale...

...and Doug almost came crashing down next to me when his foot stopped responding to muscle commands.

The foot that didn't have the proprioception issues after the stroke.

It's a damn good thing that the hospital is right around the corner from the mall. A teleporter might have gotten us there faster, but not by much.

We get taken back, they draw some labwork, and Doug's potassium is cratering. Having done this dance before, we both have an "Oh yeah..." moment. They stuff some K into him orally, and some more through an IV, and he gets discharged with instructions to follow up with his primary care doctor in 2-3 days.

Doc submits a lab order (which is a story in and of itself that I'll let Doug tell once he's home), and I drive Doug over to the hospital today to get it drawn along with his standing order for the anticoagulant clinic.

I've been back at work half an hour when Doug calls and says "The doctor is sending me back to the ER." Truth be told, I was half-expecting the call. Throw myself back into the car, come home and pick him up, and away we go again. Doug's primary doc tells him to ask for a nephrology consult once he's there; she was both approachable and communicative when she arrives, which is always a plus in a situation like this.

It took FOR-EV-ER to get sent up to a room today for some reason, though the ER itself was surprisingly "unbusy" (I stopped myself just short of using the Q word when I commented on this to the transport tech as we were finally going upstairs, and that was the word he supplied). But the room that finally did come open was a single bed (I'm not sure private vs. semi-private applies with the way the rooms are set up in "bays" at O'Connor), so that was a bonus. I had time enough during the hurry-up-and-wait phase to come home, pack a jump bag for Doug, and locate the library's copy of The Martian that had gone walkabout in our living room (which was needful, as there are at least three more people who have it on reserve after us, so we wouldn't have been able to renew it if it was still missing).

I then proceeded to read said book in one evening, between the ER and his room upstairs. At least I got something good out of today!

I finally came home about an hour ago, and I've been working on this post for 45 minutes. I still have work in the morning (where a MASSIVE tray of leftovers from this afternoon's barbecue awaits me in the fridge, because my office loves me as much as I love them), and Doug has asked me to stop by on my way in with some Gatorade for him (which he can have, as he doesn't have any dietary restrictions unlike the last visit), so I really need to get my ass to bed.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Me - Glare of Sarcasm)
When I was about 6 years old, my family went on a Mexican cruise on the old S.S. Spirit of London. Being unbearably cute, I owned that ship. Being heavily into my Cowboy phase (which was immediately after my Joe Namath phase), I would slide up to any of the bars on the ship and in my best (adorable little) drawl order "7-Up. And put it in a dirty glass."

It seems I'm back to that order now.

A few weeks ago we went to the birthday celebration for my sister's girls. I fully expected to come home with something, and wasn't surprised. I've had a a bad immune system for twenty years. But things kept getting worse. I couldn't eat. I felt like there was an obstruction in my gut. Ensign Wheatbiscuit* was having the time of his life with the waste disposal controls. I couldn't sleep. Finally, Last Tuesday, [personal profile] kshandra and I drove to see my doctor. I asked for a hospital admission. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I loath hospitals. So you know how bad off I was.

In the ER they set me up for labs and gave me morphine. I actually slept for the first time in days. The decision was that I needed to by admitted for no other reason than my Potassium was dangerously low. This has happened before, and can easily kill you.

I won't bore you with hospital stories. It sucked, and Kiri came close to strapping me to the bed at one point when I hadn't had anything by mouth for close to 48 hours. But we did get a diagnosis:

Acute Alcoholic Pancreatitis

I'm not an alcoholic; Hell I've got an open bottle of Jack Daniels that I haven't touched in years. I just like beer and wine, and have been drinking fairly consistently since I got to my first duty station in the Army. For the record, that was January, 1985. I stopped getting shitfaced after I woke up with a tattoo. But years and years of a few beers a day, wine with dinner... they've added up.

So, as of last week, I'm on the wagon. I've been doing some reading and even one can of beer can now leave me in agony. Not worth it. I'm not happy that this wasn't my choice, but I'll deal.

There was one funny thing. I still had about 8 beers in the fridge. I heard one of our twenty-something neighbors leaving and popped out. The conversation went like this:

"Hey, you guys drink Budweiser?"

"Well, man.. we don't really.."

"Stop. Let me put it this way. I just got out of the hospital and can never drink alcohol again. I've got close to ten ice-cold Buds. I can either give them to you, or pour them down the sink. Now, do you guys drink Budweiser?"

"Oh, sure.. love it!"

Sometimes you have to frame the question correctly.

But where from here? We've informed our camp at Burning Man that I will not be partaking, and that if anyone slips up and offers me a beer not to feel bad about it. Thanksgiving will be alcohol free, as will all other such events. We're working on a lower-fat diet for me, and one that focus more on snaking when needed, as I'm still not really good with full meals. Lots of poultry and ground lamb, lots of soups, and even less beef than I eat now. Sadly, I've never cared for seafood.

Overall, I'm good. This is a big adjustment, I mean I've had a beer can in my hand for a long time, but I'll make it.

But I swear, if there's an after life I expect to be greeted with an ice-cold pint of pale lager and a double pepperoni, sausage and garlic pizza. With Parmesan Twists, slightly underdone.

* For the uninitiated, I've described my body and its troubles by describing myself as this vast steampunk device, complete with brass and teak control room and a very, very British crew. Ensign Wheatbiscuit has been running amok for years, obsessed with the Solid Waste Controls, but causing trouble wherever he goes. I found it a kinder way to explain my latest illness with going into too much actual detail.
gridlore: Photo: penguin chick with its wings outstretched, captioned "Yay!" (Penguin - Yay!)
Just got a call from [personal profile] gridlore; they're supposed to be discharging him "in an hour, hour and a half." Since this ain't our first rodeo, we know that's probably more like three hours, but still - he's coming HOME! (Which means I need to do All The Things now, but I will shuffle up and deal.)
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Much Rejoicing)
[personal profile] gridlore, via text message 20 minutes ago: "I've now had three juice boxes. Body is confused, but I feel great." There's also an order in for Ensure. As I was typing this, he pinged again: "Finished my Ensure. I have chicken broth, but feel bloated."

This more than makes up for the lousy night I had; I was awake another two hours after last night's post, with my head spinning over how I really needed to be three people (wow, two years almost to the day since the last time I said that), so I'm running on maybe 4hrs of sleep. But knowing that he's on the path back to solid food and thence to discharge makes all the difference.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Penguin - Exploding)
...the part where [personal profile] gridlore feels fine, but the lab results don't agree, and I have to try and convince him that no, really, this is how it has to be. His appetite has finally come back online, and he's hungry enough - and angry enough about it - that he actually threatened to sign out AMA if he doesn't get some answers (and a damn meal) tomorrow. And I don't know that I'd be able to refuse him, as much as I might want to.

The levels of communication at that hospital - doctor/patient, inter-departmental - leave a great deal to be desired, but/and as long as the facility continues to get jerked around by current and potential owners, I don't see that changing, sadly.

And I have to get up an hour earlier than usual tomorrow because they're closing our street at 7am for road work, so I don't have the time to sit here fretting over things.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Bosch)
Today has been a very long week.

[personal profile] kshandra here, as Your Host is currently ensconced in a bed at O'Connor Hospital, being treated for pancreatitis.

"...wait, WHAT?!" I hear you all cry.

"I've been meaning to write an I've-been-sick post," [personal profile] gridlore said earlier this afternoon, in response to a FB comment I had read him from someone who was growing concerned in his extended silence there, "but I've been sick..."

And he has. We'd gone to a birthday party for the Emergency Back-up Niece and the Niece of Last Resort last weekend, and had initially thought that one of the little germ factories darlings there had given us something (I went home sick from work myself on Wednesday). By Saturday, however, we realized something greater appeared to be at work. He was running a low-grade fever, he hadn't been sleeping well, he was dealing with consistent abdominal pain (and related issues with which I will not disgust you). Monday, he called his doctor's office and got an appointment for this morning; he was already in bad enough shape that I told my boss that I'd be leaving early to drive him there.

We got to the doctor's office at 11:20; by 11:50 we were already pulling into the parking lot at the ER. They gave him The Good Stuff™ for the pain, and he was able to get some actual SLEEP between blood draws and CT scans and whatever all else. They told us around 4 that they'd be admitting him at least overnight (which we'd both been expecting, and had packed a jump bag for the purpose). It was after 7pm by the time they finally had a bed clear and took him up to the unit.

At which point the shift nurse started asking him all of the same questions the triage nurse had asked eight hours previously. Because the two systems aren't linked for G_d only knows what reason (perhaps literally, as O'Connor was founded by the Daughters of Charity).

I finally left somewhere around 8; [personal profile] murphymom was on her way back down the Peninsula after having her car worked on, and we agreed to meet for dinner/dessert. (I wasn't even all that interested in the concept of food, but I'd only eaten once today and new I needed to put something in my system.)

And then, for the final insult, I suggested we meet at a restaurant that I subsequently found out is currently closed for remodeling.

We regrouped and determined a Plan B, I devoured my meal as soon as it was in front of me (again, unsurprising - I knew I needed the fuel), we went our separate ways, and I started writing this as soon as I got home.

Now, I need to plan for tomorrow; Doug has asked me to bring his hearing aids (as trying to decipher the nurse's questions over the family of the other patient in the room was all but impossible), and I still need to figure out where the FUCK I managed to misplace the power cord for the Chromebook (which is really pissing me off, as I was the last person to use it, and I KNOW I brought the cord home with me).

And, of course, I have to go to work in and around all of the rest of this.

Updates as I have them; hopefully they'll be less disjointed than this one going forward.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Penguin - Exploding)
I'm going to need to train a whole new crop of doctors. As of 1 JAN, Sutter Health will no longer accept the new program that is covering those of us on Medicare/MediCal. I've been assigned a new doctor who works through Good Samaritan Hospital and El Camino Hospital in Los Gatos. I was born at Good Sam, so this isn't a problem. The new doctor himself looks good. But...

If I just needed a primary care physician, I'd be fine. But I need the help of a laundry list of specialists. Hemo-oncology, pulmonology, and neurology are the most important ones, but I've also been see recently by dermatologists, audiologists, and an ENT specialist. Not to mention the relationship I've developed with the NP who does my Coumadin levels. At least I'm getting one more IVIG before I have to get anew authorization to continue the treatment.

On the bright side I've found that I can download a pretty comprehensive medical history from my current provider, so we can hand that and the cards of all my current doctors to the new guy. Also, I still get my health care for essentially nothing. Which makes it much easier to take.

But damnit, I like my current team!
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Bosch)
So, about a month ago I had a stroke.

Seriously. I had a fucking stroke )

So, what does it all mean? )

So, that's the deal. Thanks to everyone for their continuing support. Kirsten has been an absolute Goddess through all of this. Treat her as such.
gridlore: Doug with Kirsten, both in nice clothes for a wedding. (Me - with Kirsten)
[personal profile] kshandra here again. Rather than trying to remain the Queen of All Media, crossposting information hither, thither, and yon and then having to remember to check the comments in all those places, I have set up a blog on CaringBridge to act as a central point of contact going forward. Feel free to share the link with anyone who may be interested.
gridlore: Doug with Kirsten, both in nice clothes for a wedding. (Me - with Kirsten)
[personal profile] kshandra here...and BOY, how I hate bringing that subject line out of retirement...

At 7:15 tonight (I haven't been to bed yet, therefore it still counts as "tonight"), [personal profile] gridlore and I were discussing whether or not to take him to Urgent Care. ("Remember," I said, "the last time I insisted you go, I saved your damn life." "Yeah," he acknowledged, "but the Belgians aren't doing this to me because I won't learn to speak French.")

At 8:15 tonight, there were two fire trucks and an ambulance in front of my apartment. As I noted when I checked into O'Connor Hospital on Foursquare, this was NOT how I wanted to win that particular argument.

I'll let my Twitter feed pick up the story from here.

  • 9:03 PM - Latest word is @gridlore's going for a CT scan, and then I'll get to go back and see him. Updates to follow.
  • 10:07 PM - The admitting MD is in with @gridlore now; I'll get to see him in another 5 minutes or so. #hospitals #collectthewholeset
  • 10:53 PM - Spoke with @gridlore's treatment team; they'll be admitting him to the ICU. Details are not suitable for public consumption.
  • 11:27 PM - ...and my computer is still on at home, so I can't check my mail in the waiting room. #firstworldproblems
  • 12:17 AM - Mom is meeting me here. It'll help.
  • 1:01 AM - At long last, dinner. (Or possibly breakfast. I'm not really sure at this point.)
  • 2:05 AM - The bed has been put back together, and now I can fall apart.

Yes, I'm being intentionally vague. Part of that is because we still don't actually know what's going on...and part of that is because I'm utterly fucking terrified. This was quite literally the worst I've ever seen him, and I'm not ready to talk about why. I may never be.

I am entirely too wound up to sleep, so I'm going to play mindless games on the internet until I can face my empty bed. Updates as I have them tomorrow.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Me - Google)

  • To match the ones removed from me earlier.

  • Yes, the biopsy happened, with minimal hassles.

  • Now let's hope they actually hit the lymph node they were aiming for.

  • Still have great difficulty breathing.

  • I'm seeing my regular doctor tomorrow for what promises to be an interesting appointment.

  • Just finished my semi-regular re-reading of Dune. Every time I read that book, I find something new.

  • Never really latched onto the sequels, maybe I'll try again.

  • Been cruising craigslist looking for more health-appropriate jobs.

  • Then I realized.. they're back.....

  • This ad, in different variations, has been appearing since craigslist launched.

  • I really think it's a Dark Cult who worship a deity with a taste for Gospel Pianists.

  • Seriously, I must have seen this same ad over three dozens times over the years.

  • Thanks to everyone who helped out. Kirsten is breathing a little easier, and I'm at least wheezing a coughing in a slightly more relaxed way.

gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Default)
Off in a few minutes for the third attempt to get some tissue out of me. Don't wish me luck, wish for the doctor to have better aim this time!
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Me - Google)

  • The biopsy, take 2, has been scheduled for next Monday.

  • It was funny speaking with the scheduler. The appointment is an exact duplicate of the last one.

  • So I still had all the information written down in front of me.

  • I had to keep telling her that this was a second procedure, and I knew the rules.

  • Hopefully, this time they'll hit lymph node.

  • Other than that, I'm wandering between just feeling dragged out and outright miserable.

  • There is something wrong, that's certain. It's just figuring out what at this point.

  • A question for the local gamers (here he goes again.) How many of you have heard of the Pathfinder RPG?

  • Described as "D&D 3.75" it was produced by Pazio after WotC dumped their support companies and came out with D&D4e

  • I liked D&D3e, and have heard incredible things about Pathfinder.

  • I really want to run a game again.

  • I'm thinking of a Lost World/Cities of Mystery style campaign set in the Caribbean and Central/South America...800 years after scattered bands of dwarf and elf refugees fled a magical disaster and a century after the Genoese Navigator-Mage Christoffa Corombo managed to break the spell that blocked passage across the Atlantic.

  • Yes, Elvish Pirates of the Caribbean!

  • Just watched two hours of Pawn Stars on Lifetime. I love that show.

  • These days I hardly watch any scripted shows at all. I'm all about things like Top Chef, Tabitha's Salon Takeover and other reality and semi-reality shows.

  • Mainly because most television is crap.

  • An unexpected present arrived today. Thanks [livejournal.com profile] mikkop, I can hardly wait to see what it is!

  • I refuse to believe that after winning the World Series the Giants open 2011 with a five-game road trip. That's just not right!

  • Am I the only person on Earth who is kept awake by vicodin?

  • Terrifyingly, the 49ers are still alive in the race to win the NFC West.

  • The Niners are 5-9. And one game back of the division "leaders."

  • If they win their final two while the two teams currently sharing the lead lose one each...

  • Wow. We're meat in the playoffs, and the whole thing shows just how bad the NFC West is, but it could happen.

gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Penguin - Exploding)
They missed.

The biopsy team managed to not get any usable lymphatic tissue. This was a CT-guided procedure, remember, the doctor was working with imagery that was less than ten minutes old and they missed everything.

Which means we need to reschedule after the new year to do it again. Do I need to mention that when dealing with these kinds of issues, time is of the essence? The entire procedure was a frakking waste of time and effort.

Now I need to contact my primary care doctor and let him know that until this is resolved, I'm staying on disability.

I'm in pain, can't breathe, I'm constantly tired and they missed.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Believe in Shadows)
Blood draw bruise

That's the site where I had a blood draw Monday morning. We took the picture yesterday as I was getting ready for my biopsy. That procedure went extremely well, with minimal discomfort.

But now I'm in agony. Both ankles - for no reason - are screaming in pain. It's not like pain from walking too far, it's in the joints themselves. Bother.
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Penguin - Exploding)
Just has my first appointment with my new oncologist. Love her. Not only is she a fellow Giants fanatic and 49er Faithful, she agrees that communication is vital in the doctor-patient relationship. Looking forward to working with her in the ongoing monitoring of my continued remission.

But... about my previous oncologist. Remember about a year ago I was trendy and had H1N1? Came down with it literally the same day I had a PET Scan. With all that drama, I never heard about the results of the scan. A few months later, with no explanation, I was scheduled for a needle biopsy of some of the spleen remnants I have hanging around. Again, I never heard a damn thing about the results.

Understand that if anything Kaiser is over-eager to give you details. Almost every test I've ever taken with them has been emailed to my account on the Kaiser website, with the results linked to explanations of what is being tested and what the results mean. Every single doctor I've met there (but one) has been eager to explain what they are doing, thinking, and planning. Hell, Dr. Jeske turned the computer monitor around today and showed me exactly what was concerning her.

A PET scan is an interesting thing. Without going into too much detail, it uses radioactive sugar to mark areas. Unlike other imaging techniques, nuclear medicine imaging studies are less directed toward picturing anatomy and structure, and more concerned with depicting physiologic processes within the body, such as rates of metabolism or levels of various other chemical activity. Areas of greater intensity, called "hot spots", indicate where large amounts of the radiotracer have accumulated and where there is a high level of chemical activity. Less intense areas, or "cold spots", indicate a smaller concentration of radiotracer and less chemical activity.

In my PET scan, my lymphatic system lit up like a pinball machine. I'm a survivor of Hodgkin's Disease, remember, a common form of lymphoma. Ya think that just maybe a good oncologist would inform his patient about this troubling development? Explain that the flu may well be the cause, but we're going to do additional tests? Does anyone reading this not think that Kirsten and I would be interested to know that my body was making several oncologists worried?

Even better, the biopsy I had reveal cells consistent with the effects of active Hodgkins but no actual Reed-Sternberg cells. I never knew this until today. I was never fucking told that my body was showing signs of a possible active re-occurrence of the fucking disease that almost killed me and changed my bloody life in ways that can best be described as devastating. For those of you blessed enough not to know a great deal about this topic, it's not uncommon not to find R-S cells in the early stages of a Hodgkin's case. They are the instigators that infect and destroy other cells. Hodgkin's can spread through an entire chain of lymph nodes and you'll only find the R-S cells in one or two of the actual nodes. One of the many reasons why Hodgkin's is so hard to diagnose in the early stages.

So done with the old oncologist.

A long-overdue follow-up PET scan is now scheduled for November 22nd.

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gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Default)
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