SGL Café

Years ago I made my

Years ago I made my podiatrist giggle by breaking two feet a year apart running on the same beach - Riis.

Now its coming back to haunt me because the second ungainly stride into the surf left me with a metal plate in my foot. In preparation for my radiation MRIs are being planned for today, and we all know magnets and metal have a certain.

Anyway, being fair warned and all that, the procedures are a good. Yay to that.

On another note, crazy old Sally hasn't me again. Double yay to that. Nocturnal visitations from hald-dressed octogenarians becomes disturbing quite quickly.

Taylor's Chemo Chronicles - "Sally"

As chemo comes to an end (YAY) and preparation for targeted radiation beginning on the seven tiny lesions trying to eat my brain - an old lady stalker has beome obsessed with me.

Sally walks in to room at all hours and asks all sorts of questions. I get the feeling I remind her of an old boo. ((Shudder)).

But as long as she isn't privy to sharp objects (though she does get violent with the staff), I thing I can live with crazy Sally.

After all, I'm still crazy hot.

Taylor's Chemo Chronicles: Crash Cart

Three days into my stint here at Christ Hospital in Jersey City, hiccups were still plaguing me.

Then they suddenly stopped. Everything did. I couldn't breathe. An attentive young girl who happened to be visiting my bed-mate had the staff converge. But not before I'd puked the best roasted coffee I'd had in minute.

But at least I could breathe again.

As about 15 staffers stared poisted to deploy any matter of armaments from that awful "cart", and a middle-eastern young doctor leaned in and grilled me - 'What day it is? What year is it?' - all I could think was "wow, he's so pretty!"

Long story short, the hiccups are still a pain but when they seize I know to grab the bucket.

And you did note my location, right? Sweets and flowers aren't frowned upon.

Just FYI.

Taylor's Chemo Chronicles

On day 2 of chemotherapy my shadow appeared. He was foggy and disagreeable to be around.

Much like Charlie Brown's Pig Pen, he just hovered and stank --which made making a good impression of the sexy doctor who'd rushed into room with the crash cart nearly impossible.

More on the crash cart incident later ... still, after all the festivities had died down, tired as I was, I teetered into the bathroom and slayed my funky little shadow.

But he'll be back soon.

Three more days of chemo.

Good grief.

End Times & Chemotherapy

[CBS.news] Some Americans have extreme plans this weekend. A religious leader named Harold Camping has convinced them the end of the world starts at 6 p.m. ET Saturday. Most of the world's faithful do not believe the date is Judgment Day. But as CBS News correspondent Bill Whitaker reports, it seems just about everyone's seen the signs about the end of the world. Personally, with aggressive chemo commencing on Monday, I think it would be silly to cancel anything. Why subject the entire world on my own personal plaint? And if I'm wrong ... well, who wanted to puck for days anyway?