Bye

Time for my next dose of pills. The good news is that there are no worse news. Basically, I'm dying on schedule - which is still a hell of a lot better than dying faster than expected.

The blood tests show that my PSA is as close to zero as it can be (0.014), so the hormonal therapy is still working. Not really surprising, since it's supposed to work for 1-3 years and it's been less than a year since I've started it.

I take the bus and then a long walk to the hospital, which is still in the middle of nowhere. I wait for the elevator to the 8^th floor. I register at the administration desk (no waiting and no payment this time) and give my blood test results to the nurse. Then I go to the hall, which the doctors use instead of their offices to consult patients and wait. (And wait, and wait.)

After a while, a nurse appears, calls my name and gives me the prescription. No doctor, so I can't ask my usual bunch of questions. I ask the nurse where the doctor is. She ignores the question and disappears.

I climb down the stairs to the basement bunker, wait to get the pills, sign for them, wait for the elevator to take me back to the 8^th floor, and sign for the pills again, because they apparently still haven't solved the hard computer/networking problem of relaying the information that I've already signed for them from the basement to the 8^th floor.

Then I take the long walk back to the bus stop and take the bus home. Nothing exciting, I know. I've basically written this blog entry just to let you know that I'm still alive. The next month I have to be administered the injection with the potent stuff; I'll let you know if there's anything unusual.

I'll update this page if there are any important changes and I am still able to do so.