Fscking Arrogant *Snarl*

I think I'll do two journal entries tonight, one for venting and the other newsy. This is the venting one, so read on at your own risk.

When my grandfather finished radiation last time he said he also wanted chemo, just to be sure. The oncologist refused, saying that Grandpa was completely in the clear and doing so would just make him suffer unnecessarily.

A few weeks later, a lump appeared on Grandpa's neck, right where he'd been receiving radiation. The oncologist said it was scar tissue and to wait a few months and if it didn't get better, he'd remove it.

Fast forward to, what was it, a week ago? The oncologist finally got around to removing it and told Grandpa that it was harmless. The news traveled quickly, life was good. Then I got a completely unexpected phone call from my mom to say Grandpa had relapsed. Since I'd been e-mailed a day earlier that he was all clear, it took me a while to understand that, in fact, Grandpa wasn't all-clear and never had been. I'd like to think that it only took me the whole phone conversation to figure out what Mom had just said because I'd thought he was all-clear and not just because I'm dense.

Anyway, my aunt Mel, a dentist, heard about the relapse and told Grandpa to get a second opinion. She said that a competent doctor would have biopsied it months ago -- heck, it's an outpatient procedure. So Grandpa got a second opinion, and the first thing the new Oncologist said was "Why wasn't this biopsied months ago?"

So because the first oncologist was an arrogant idiot who couldn't be bothered to be concerned when a patient got a lump right where his other lumps had been, the cancer has had several months' head start, which is why it's spread so far. I'm just a bit aggrieved here; this is the life of a person who was more a dad to me than my biological father which has been risked.

I'll update on what else Grandpa learned in the calmer post following this. Thanks for putting up with my venting.

(no subject)

First, the really good news. Heather had labor induced today, and earlier today Danielle Marie arrived to join Denny, Heather, and their formerly only child, Regina. Danielle is 7lbs 13oz and 20 inches long, and was the result of a full-term and fairly routine pregnancy. Heather is, as might be expected, exhausted. No word on how Regina feels about having a little sister now.

Grandpa news is mixed. He told Mom he has "under the skin" cancer. It's incurable (or inoperable, I forgot to write it down), but it goes into remission fairly easily. People can survive for up to 15 years with it. This is a far cry from when Grandma had cancer: back then it was a nasty word which you didn't mention in public; even more taboo than AIDS is today. Back then surviving for five years, as she did, was practically unheard of.

I'm glad things have come so far medically, and I hope that this round of cancer goes softly into that good night and leaves Grandpa here. He'll be getting chemo every third Monday starting on the 5th; this means that he'll be getting it on Monday of the week we'd planned our transplanted Christmas Eve. I guess we'll have to wait a few weeks and see how much it effects him and for how long.

When Andy was at Siggraph I gave him my journal info in case he wanted to keep up. I didn't realize he was still reading it now that he's home and stuck with me all the time. Anyway, he does, and after reading it last night he did some checking around and found some good airfares to Rome. Hopefully I'll be able to go the weekend of the 16th or 23rd, since Grandpa had some inescapable guests the weekend of the 9th.

My "little" sister (she's three years younger and an inch or two taller than I am) is moving out of Mom's place this weekend. She'd been unhappy with her current job so asked for a transfer to a different manager^H branch, and is now going to be in Syracuse. Her significant other is there, so hopefully they'll get to see each other more often. Dave is an EMT who works full-time and volunteers the rest, so she didn't see him as often as she would have liked to.

I decided last night not to mention my walk if it was routine, so of course tonight it wasn't. On my fourth time around a kitty came out and started meowing forlornly until I stopped and petted him. He kept trying to lead me somewhere, but stopping before any doors which I might have been able to knock on. I read his tag, which had his name (Cornelius) and a phone number. I went back home, phoned the number on the tag, left a message on the machine, and resumed my walk despite a strong temptation to stop early. He was nowhere to be seen the next time I reached the area, so hopefully his mommy or daddy found him.