I don’t know if it’s mental/emotional fatigue from all the intensive medical stuff from the last four years or just how I’m wired differently, but when a surgeon tells me “about a week or more recovery in the hospital,” what pops into my head right after “Can I see my daughter during that time” is “Is your wifi any good?”
Waiting to hear back on test results and analysis (and wifi answer!), chats between surgeons and doctors and oncologists, etc. File that one under “Joygasm.” Or “Gyro,” since I ordered one for lunch as part of my “food for the soul” regimen I tend to self-prescribe to after hearing troubling news.
No, nobody understands my filing system.
I gave Ariana a pad to draw on months ago from my desk, not even really thinking about which one it was. Found this and 100 more drawings this weekend on the pad’s pages while digging through her craft stuff and it just broke me. There’s some annoying English class word for this … allegory? Yeah, allegory. This is a perfect allegory for a day, any day, in my life, my personal version of the six-word story that I, ironically, didn’t even write.
For those interested, this is the clinical trial drug I am taking (ACY-241) and the news from ASH this weekend about it. Celgene, who makes Pomalyst (and Revlimid, another big hitter in Multiple Myeloma) just announced in the last few days that they were buying this company. It’s bizarre to actually read about a clinical trial you are in. Probably be more bizarre if the announcement was that 90% of the participants had spontaneously combusted or something.
Acetylon Presents Early Phase 1a1b Results for Citarinostat