[Latest update]

April 2, 1996: Not much new to report. The chemotherapy is one week mostly on followed by two weeks mostly off; in the second 'off' week, I'm feeling a little low on energy but otherwise pretty good.

April 4, 1996: I'm in the hospital again with a blood clot in my right arm, but will probably be out within a couple of days. This is not a terribly alarming development - it just means that the new-and-improved low-molecular-weight heparin (anticoagulant) that I was on isn't working, and I need to switch back to Classic Heparin.

April 7, 1996: Back home, feeling fine. I might need to spend some more time in the hospital next week for treatment with a clot-dissolving drug, urokinase, but even if I do I'll try to get out in time for Wednesday night's gig.

April 12, 1996: Managed to stay out of the hospital for the gig, but I'm back in again for a couple of days of thrombolysis (clot dissolving).

April 13, 1996: Excerpt from "Cancer Becomes Me" by Marjorie Gross (no relation), from the April 15, 1996, issue of The New Yorker:

I hope with all this negative talk I haven't painted too bleak a picture and therefore discouraged you from getting cancer. I mean, there are some really good things about it. Like:

(1) You automatically get called courageous. The rest of you people have to save somebody from drowning. We just have to wake up.

(2) You are never called rude again. You can cancel appointments left and right, leave boring dinners after ten minutes, and still not become a social pariah.

(3) Everyone returns your calls immediately - having cancer is like being Mike Ovitz. And you're definitely not put on hold for long.

(4) People don't ask you to help them move.

(5) If you're really shameless, you never have to wait in line for anything again. Take off the hat and get whisked to the front.

April 14, 1996: Home again, doing my taxes.

April 24, 1996: Some funny bruises (technically, Osler nodes and Janeway lesions) on my hands; my doctor thinks they are related to my clotting problems but isn't sure yet exactly what's going on. In other news, had a CT scan today to see how my lymph nodes are responding to the chemotherapy; won't get the results till Friday.

April 28, 1996: Good news! The scan showed substantial reduction in the lymph nodes (from 1.5-2 cm to 1 cm (normal size) in abdominal nodes; from 3 cm to 1.5 cm (still enlarged) in chest nodes). So I'm continuing with at least another 2 cycles (6 weeks) of chemo. Also, my doctors now think that the problems with my hands are a side effect of one of the chemo drugs, but just in case, I'm having a scan next week to rule out marantic endocarditis (a problem with the heart valves).