Friday, March 11, 2011

Trial B-47 with shoes




Well, I struggled all week deciding if I should do the B-47 trial or not- A chance to be  a real live human guinea pig, advance chemical medicine, a chance to put my metta where my mouth is, a chance for, of all things, cancer redemption?— Or How to be a help to the cancer patients behind me, honoring the cancer patients in front of me who were in trials and also how to make some proverbial  lemon meringue pie of these cancer lemons -

I'd been out shoe shopping- yes the mundane joy of shoes--with Margaret,  I tell her the dilemma I am agonizing over, selflessness of serving myself up to science with chemo every three weeks for a whole year, (afterall I'm managed to side step radiation, shouldn't i sign up for a little more chemo?) , versus self preservation and safety - taking the 4 lumps Ihave coming and getting back in the game?  Margaret makes a washing machine motion with her arms, circling in ever widening arcs, laughs at me, and says. "REALLY?", We laugh together coming up with the metaphors for being in a spin cycle, hottest -hot water for brightest whites, second rinses and tons of bleach— washing machine loopty loop- so, how many cycles do I need before I'm CLEAN ??

As fate has it--

I get home with my new little heels with daisies on them and pick up a voice mail from my ONC mentor Dr. Menter, who apologizes saying it turns out my chemistry doesn't exactly fit the profile on a certain protocol, so I'm not eligible! It just gets curiouser and curiouser…meredith wrote one time: "we move toward separateness (wholeness)  guiltily"… the trial is very interesting if anyone is interested now or in the future-

3 comments:

Kathleen said...

Elizabeth, experimental medicine sounds so much like Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit." The medical establishment never hesitates to proffer hope, and stab hope to death in a single stroke. You've been taken out of the equation. Good. As it says in the I Ching, "Proceed; there is no blame in this."

Kathleen said...

Soooo my physician says to me, "Sorry, Ms. Cole, your body chemistry doesn't lend itself to participation in the trial of Blah Wha Blahblah." Suddenly I become a rainbow-assed baboon, leaping, howling, baring my teeth ... wildly triumphant. See the baboon. Be the baboon.

elizabeth said...

Thanks Kathleen- for the triumphant image!