[travel|cancer] Flying home now

Dad, Lisa Costello and I are off to the airport momentarily. Flying home to Portland. We’ll be there about a week before we come back to Maryland for the next steps at NIH.

In the mean time, due to the need for strict health hygiene in the run up to lung surgery, I am going to have to pick up some surgical masks on the way to the airport, and wear one on the plane. I purely hate that. This is also affecting some of my social plans for next week, as I need to be careful about environments and behaviors that would increase my risk of viral or bacterial transmission.

(No hot tub for me, in other words.)

Ah, science. Ah, cancer. At least I’m going home.

4 thoughts on “[travel|cancer] Flying home now

  1. Stevie says:

    Quarantine is dull but in your shoes I would simply delete personal contact with anyone other than your closest family for a few days until you return to NIH.
    You already have slightly dodgy pulmonary function results; that may be because you already have a sub-clinical infection mildly messing things up. On the other hand, pulmonary function results can go all over the place for no apparent reason; you really don’t want to risk fouling them up for a known reason.
    This isn’t the sort of area where a patient can talk a surgeon into operating regardless of a mild sniffle; they won’t do it. And at this point, them doing it is the gateway to your treatment; in my view a week of quarantine is an acceptable price to pay to pass through that gateway…

  2. I hope you won’t be the only person on the plane wearing a mask. Influenza is at almost epidemic levels, with the same strain as the 1918 flu epidemic, H1N1, that attacks midlife and young people. If masks become fashionable this winter, that would be a good thing.

    1. Jay says:

      Actually, I was the only one…

  3. Harald Striepe says:

    Go with the flow man!
    Just hung with another friend, who got hit. Diagnosed Dec. 24, operated Dec.31 – how is that for a holiday?
    IIIC so far, but there are lung spots. Early 50s for that life changing experience.
    There is always hope…
    Laurie Anderson,
    “‘Cause when love is gone, there’s always justice.
    And when justive is gone, there’s always force.
    And when force is gone, there’s always Mom. Hi Mom!”

    — Harald

    ps Boy, the protocols have changed over the last few years: alternating weeks instead of 3 on, 1 off. And cartridges instead of pumps! Cool!
    5FU might not be 5 F**** *U* any longer.

Comments are closed.