Entry 2 in the colorectal cancer blog journal "I've Got a Mass in My Ass"
Note to self: Not all hospital gowns are created equal. Before my radiation treatment today, I grabbed one out of the usual pile and headed into the changing room, where I soon found myself uncomfortably attired in something that barely covered my nether regions and didn't even come close to tying up in the back. Clearly, there was a laundry room mix-up between the Royal Vic and the adjacent Montreal Children's Hospital. I looked like Mama Cass in a mini-skirt. Only prettier.
Cancer has its privileges
Want to save money on parking at the new super-hospital? Get cancer. Daily radiation/chemotherapy treatments entitle you to a $60 a month parking pass, which represents savings of thank-you-baby-Jesus percent off regular rates. Before my treatments started, I waited three hours one day for a doctor to tell me something another doctor had already told me two weeks earlier, and then I paid $25 for parking. The left hand didn't know what the right hand was doing, even though both hands had been wrist-deep up the same ass.
Bacon causes cancer? Whatever.
One of my radiation room moles tipped me off today that tomorrow I have to meet with my arch-nemesis: the nutritionist. She'll probably tell me bacon causes cancer, when the more relevant question is "Does bacon exacerbate cancer?" Anyway, I went over to the Rail bistro at Playground Poker in Kahnawake after my treatment for some last-hurrah bacon and eggs with a side order of the greatest breakfast potatoes in the history of the world. It was nice to catch up with my friend and former K103 colleague Paul Graif. By the way, Paul, "Hey, you've lost weight!" is not an appropriate greeting for a cancer patient. Ya fat fuck.