Everybody Must Get Stoned: A bit more positive news today: the doctor says that my hemoglobin and tumor marker (CEA) numbers continue to improve slightly from last time. My weight's down, though; nothing to worry about, but I could swear that I'm heavier than I was two weeks ago.

Reclining while receiving chemotherapy (for you foot fetishists out there: those are my go-to shoes, six-year-old Havana Joe's...about the most comfortable pair of shoes I've ever owned).

The pre-chemo dose of Benadryl hit me harder than usual today and two foggy hours or so passed extremely quickly. Listened to music I couldn't recall and sent a few e-mails while in a drug-induced haze that I barely remember typing; hope no one got anything really rude, but if you did, I'd like to pretend that you enjoyed it (you perverts).

There are two large rectangular rooms (guessing the area for each is 30' x 15') where people receive treatment; although I was in the corner today, I wasn't nearly far enough away to avoid hearing someone in another corner of the same room loudly and repeatedly, uh, summoning the deity of expectoration (or, putting it bluntly, half of hocking a loogie). Beyond gross. Kept waiting for the other spittoon to drop, so to speak.

Waiting for other symptoms to hit...not even slightly flushed at this point.