And now three…

Posted in Chemo Crap on July 1st, 2013 by Michael

At week three, my hair is quickly getting thin
I suppose it was not a matter of if, but when.

I also experienced my first bout of cold
Grabbing a non-alcoholic beer, in my hand to hold

Fatigue, a common problem, is still not bad
At least for this, nausea aside, I am glad

Lately, I have had a lot of gas
It is more prevalent than my yard’s crab grass.

That reminds me I need to get off my duff
Get up, weed eat the yard and other man stuff

But at 100+, it is freakin hot here in Texas
However, BBQ, football, beer and heat are our nexus.

Finally, America’s birthday is coming near
Regardless of Obama’s crap. my country, I hold dear.

Chemo 1

Posted in Chemo Crap on June 3rd, 2013 by Michael

Yo yo yo check this out (subtle hint to Tape Heads… rap does not flow to chcken wings and waffles however)…

I’m hanging at the Center, in battle with some FOLFOX
Ugly nurses everywhere, and I’m loosing feeling in my but-tocks.

Spending hours here, slammin the poison juice through my IV
While suffering through reruns of Roseanne and Golden Girls on the tiny ass TV.

Too bad as there is a Star Wars marathon on SPIKE
Skipping episodes I-III, it is a series that I actually like.

Max and the kids are keen on episode IV
Forgive them, they are kids just looking for their Ewok fix.

I think I have had ten staffers come by so far
I feel like royalty or Vader on the Death Star.

This is one of twelve, I look forward to
Until the quacks are convinced, I’m cancer free, Yahoo!

People has asked so I will put some chemo stuff here…

Posted in Chemo Crap on June 2nd, 2013 by Michael

To start, I think these next twelve horrible quack induced sessions deserve a rap so I’ll try and do one for each. If I can think of a tune to match it to, I will note it. For now, just a simple one.

In 24 hours, I’ll rush the cancer center doors
Taking my place on the throne, demanding poison be pushed into my pores.

Don’t know what to expect as they connect to my power port
Could be nausea, cold, fatigue or other worlds of hurt.

The wife will be there by side, stressed and sad too
She’ll wave off my requests to worry not about me but her crew.

I know my taste buds will soon be gone
Better have a chili dog now with onions and jalapenos added on.

Who knows about my head full of hair, now brown and gray
Bald, it will be so round, suitable for croquet!

I got twelve of these bitches to conquer this year
I’m doing it for the kids; I can have no fear.

I should sleep now and avoid all of this worry
By Christmas this will be done, and the concerns, just a memory.