Dom DeLuise, heavy-set actor/comic, had a wonderful line when the the audience responded to his act. He’d say, “No applowze pleez, save-uh for da end.” (I am expecting a round of applause when I go, maybe even a little cheering for the entertaining quality of my life.)

When I was being counseled for my surgery, I was told that I qualified for the 90-minute, focused dose of radiation, assuming the machine gave it a “go” when I was on the table. The machine won’t operate if they feed it my numbers and they don’t fit the guidelines. One of the numbers, of course, was age. I was in the “right” age range. Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if they are only giving it to those 70 and over, it is because they don’t yet know what the effects are of this new technology and if you were, say, 45, and expected to live another 30 years or so, you might just have problems. I guess I was supposed to feel lucky -- oh boy, my anticipated remaining life span doesn’t exceed the conditions! GREAT. Smiles and high fives all ‘round.

So I had it. The other numbers were okay – size of tumor, location, how much surrounding tissue -- yup, this radiation won’t turn her into toast, at least not right away, so it was a go. I think I have a good shot at a long-lasting result because my reaction to all of this is to laugh myself silly. Laughter is a great healer.

Then, of course, I am left to wonder – 90 minutes, gee. You are under, they have removed the tumor. Feed the numbers, yup, it’s a go, insert the tube, press the on button and CLEAR OUT. So there I am, totally alone, getting zapped for 90 minutes. It’s a good thing I didn’t wake up. Buzzzzz – what the HELL?

Anyway, I was spared weeks of radiation and the procedure and aftermath were nothing compared to losing hormones. I am now coming out of side effects of having to stop hormone replacement therapy but it has taken something like 16 months and included a week in the hospital because the doctgors thought I was having a stroke.

What is helping make a difference is that I am taking a supplement that is giving me energy. It is called Laminine and is sold by a Fascist-like organization called LifePharm, that wants to totally control the product. You have to join that community, and they want you to become a seller as well, although you can ignore all of that. I think the benefits are worth the trouble.

And my buddy, Nadine, and I were interested in the healing effects of Hyaluronic acid,that is supposed to help with arthritis symptoms so we ordered it. A side effect that I am not complaining about at all is that it is reducing wrinkles not only on my face but on my bod. It is pretty cheap. Puritan.com sells it in pill form and they also have a face cream. However, still waiting for help with arthritis in my fingers.

And lest you doubt my subjective impression, I walked into the Frills boutique on Pine Island Road after not going there for a couple of months and Marianne, the clerk, said, “My God, You Look Wonderful!!!” (Eventually, a photo. I've kind of bogged down again in the technology. Hey, the literature didn't say it would help your brain.)

That’s my story.

xx, Teal