9

... more treatments to go.

In the waiting room this afternoon, I met the father of a patient who had the right side of his jaw replaced with titanium. His mouth cancer got his tongue and beyond. He got his tongue reconstructed, underwent chemotherapy, and today was his last day of radiation. Didn't get to meet him, though.

Despite two buffets this weekend and my best efforts at junk food all last week, I still managed to lose 2 more lbs. What the hell?

My saliva has been tasting wierd to me for the past 3 weeks, but I haven't been able to figure out what it reminds me of until this weekend. Thanks to the Alladin Hotel's buffet, I've discovered that it tastes like wild mushroom gravy! I've been told that most patients say their saliva tastes metallic to them. Team Slingblade thinks I'm BSing. I wish.

The fatigue really hit me this past weekend. I'm becoming more distracted, but thankfully less moody. I had a dream the other night that David Duchovny, who was wearing glasses, kept asking me if I liked his watch (Movado), while I kept insisting that he talk about something less superficial and more real. I think I kept repeating, "I don't want to talk to Mulder, I want to talk to you!"

Psychooooo.