MISTER crankypants

Well, here we are. The Sunday of the week of (hopefully) treatment numero diez, barring the news that my blood cannot handle the chemo at this time. But we are ever-positive that the decreased dosage of oxaliplatin in combination with the neupogen injections will work together to support the next round of intentional toxicity. I am both looking forward to and dreading Wednesday morning at 10am...

But that is just my mental state as of the bottom of the sixth inning of the seventh game of the ALCS, with the score 3-2 in favor of Boston over Cleveland. As those closest to me will be quick to say, I am a little difficult to handle these days. And it's more of a "tone of voice" thing than anything else, or so I'm told. I can't say that they are wrong (mostly because I am not intentionally using that yucky tone of voice), but it makes me sad to think that that is what I sound like. What to do?

I think it's fatigue. And I know that the fatigue and tiredness will be getting a bit worse over the last three treatments. And that those last three treatments will - fingers crossed - be done by Thanksgiving. But it bothers me that I cannot seem to get a handle on that whole tone-of-voice thing. And that I do it unconsciously. And that it is dealt most often to the wife and daughter.

So we try to make a little joke out of it, and we all refer to Mr. Crankypants when this attitude and tone pop up. Sometimes, though, it's too late, and the crestfallen look of a child reminds me that life is good (and too short to bring such sadness to anyone, much less my loving daughter). Part of the problem, today, was work-related stress... and that is not fair to anyone. Part of the problem, too, was trying to do too much physical work in my weakened condition. But I am not a fan of excuses, even when I know I currently have one of the best for just about every foible and shortcoming. So, Internet denizens, I am declaring a moratorium on cranky responses to questions and observations. And I will do my best to relax and listen.

Happy birthday, Al. It was fun at dinner tonight, even through the drama of Japanese food and silly hats. And the girl-chemistry interference run by the other parents present, I say "gracias, mis amigos".

Bye-bye for now. And have a great week.