Holding Pattern

I continue to wait for my opportunity to start chemo, and in the meantime, I don't know what to say. I don't want to report that I'm getting worse, but I think I am. The pain in my left thigh, hip and left lower back have become chronic and intense. I think my foot and lower leg are actually starting to decompress a little, that is, to become a little less swollen, but it turns out that the lymphoma has slipped the bounds of the lymphatic system in my leg and it's infiltrating my left thigh and groin, which also accounts for its oddly swollen nature, perhaps, and its extremely painful nature, perhaps. I have occasional difficulty swallowing. I'm so doped up that most of the time I'm not entirely sure what I'm thinking.

I'm probably setting myself up for disappointment by hoping that the first chemo treatment on Wednesday will debulk the tumors in my groin and leg to the point that I'll regain reasonable use of my leg, but I have to believe in something. The alternative is to sit awake all night and reflect upon the fact that I haven't had any treatment at all yet and am, technically speaking, dying of this shit. Stage IV. Lovely.

I'd rather hold out hope for an unrealistically-rapid cure, if it's all the same to anyone else.

I have the strangest craving for canned peaches. What can it mean? When I get over this lymphoma stuff I'm going to publish a list of Immutable Laws and I suspect at least a third of them are going to involve canned peaches in some way.