Monthly Archives: January 2020

Okay, I’ll play… (again)

I would like every one of my blog posts to be a gem for the ages, but today I got nuthin’.

So, I made a meme.

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The Tale of Tommy the Tumor

On July 25th of this year, I became aware of a major pain in my ass. I do not mean that Ukrainian Phone Call business. Only a handful of people knew about that at the time.

I had a colonoscopy that day in a surprise bout of responsible self-care. It had been five years since the last one and the doctor saw some peculiar fauna and flora when last down there. The re-check revealed a 2.5 centimeter adenocarcinoma in the rectal region of my colon.

Talk about your surprise butt stuff.

There was a quick succession of doctor’s appointments as my wife Kit and I assembled a team to handle all aspects of the treatment. There was a surgeon, a chemo oncologist, a radiation oncologist, a patient advocate, and a plucky team of radiation tech sidekicks.

The course of treatment was to be five and a half weeks of combined oral chemo and targeted radiation. Since they were firing those x-rays through my pelvis past some of my favorite organs in my body, I was thankful for their precision.

I was actually taking the radiation treatments during my lunch hour of my day job for the first few weeks. The combined side effects- fatigue, nausea, fuzzy-headedness, and orthostatic vertigo- put me on short term disability. I even lost most of my hair below the waist. I called that “medical manscaping”.

My part in the process was to remain upbeat and compliant with all the protocols. Also, I concentrated all my mental and creative energies upon the complete destruction of this interloper. I named it Tommy.

I made a crude, but effective, sketch of Tommy (see above) to use as a visual focus. As I was thrust into the radiation machine, I would imagine a tiny silver hammer striking it on the forehead with each mechanical clank of the device. Tommy suffered myriad torments in my imagination: zapped with death rays, immersed in corrosive chemicals, stomped with tiny hobnail boots. I even wrote a song about him.

Friends asked what kind of superpowers I might get from the radiation. Since I had been bitten by a radioactive asshole, I would reply, my powers would probably only apply to politics and middle management. Friends were no doubt inspired by my strength and humor.

After the combined chemo and radiation, and a four week period to allow them to reach full efficacy I referred to as marination, I was checked over by my surgeon. With much probing, scoping, fingering, and biopsies, Tommy was confirmed to be gone. No Evidence of Disease, the doctors like to say.

There was some difference of opinion as to where we go after that finding. After the entire process is done with, I may share that part with you, Warriors of Every Stripe. For now we are going with a new protocol called Watchful Waiting instead of a full resection and permanent colostomy.

I am currently wading into a three month period of chemo I tell friends is “spraying for roaches”. Even though there is no evidence of Tommy’s survival, it’s best to be sure there are no microscopic sleeper cells deep in my colon. And so I go through a prolonged chemo hangover and hang on as best as one can.

To play us off the stage, I present the lyrics to the song written for my butt tumor. Feel free to use wherever you might need it.


TOMMY (to the tune of the traditional song “Jonah”)


What do you do with a rectal tumor?

What do you do with a rectal tumor?

What do you do with a rectal tumor, way down in your colon?


Slather him in chemo ’til he withers.

Slather him in chemo ’til he withers.

Slather him in chemo ’til he withers, way down in your colon.

(repeat chorus)


Nuke him with x-rays ’til he’s crispy.

Nuke him with x-rays ’til he’s crispy.

Nuke him with x-rays ’til he’s crispy, way down in your colon.

(add verses until cured)






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Harley Quinn Evolution

This is just what we kept saying the last time we saw “Ready or Not.”

HarleyEvolution copy


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Filed under Silly stuff