In my WWTD post, Cooter and Tammy had some questions about men, romance and that sort of thing. Well I've decided I'm going to let you ladies out there in on a few things. I'm going to tell you what men really do and don't want from a woman. Forget all the chick flicks, they were written by women or men that wished they were women. The movies give you false ideas about men, they make you think that's how relationships are supposed to work. If y'all were in charge of the world, I imagine that's how things would go, but you're not. So, I'm going to tell you how it really is. If you listen to me, you might actually come close to one of those "perfect" movie romances.
First let us discuss "Mr. Perfect". He doesn't exist. Well as far as your concerned he doesn't, he may be perfect in his own eyes, but he's not perfect in yours. Don't let him know that. Always and I mean always, look at him like he is. You may even eventually start to believe it yourself.
Second. Believe it or not, we do like an independent woman. We just don't want to hear about it. We want to feel needed. We need to feel needed. We want to be the guy you turn to when you need something moved, carried, opened or killed. When we're around be semi-helpless.
Third. It's OK to ask us out. We're in the 21st century for God's sake. We can accept some liberation. We're less likely to turn you down than you are to turn us down. It makes us feel desirable.
Fourth. Don't nag. Sometimes we are going to leave you at home, when we go out with the guys. Get used to it. If you complain, it's just going to make everything tense when we get home at 2:00am. You need the beauty sleep, we'll talk about it in the morning. Hopefully, by then you'll have forgotten the whole thing.
Fifth. Actually this should have been first. Sex. We will die without it. It's true. A man that has frequent orgasms is less likely to develop prostate cancer. So if you really did love us, you would save our lives by giving up a little more poonanny. I think five times a week is a good round number. Also feel free to be sexually aggressive. I don't mean whips and chains either, just make the first move once and a while. It makes us feel desirable.
Sixth. Don't nag. There's that damned deja vu all over again. When you start in on us, our senses automatically shut down, yet we can repeat your last 20 words, verbatim. While repeating your last 20 words we will figure out what you were talking about and have an answer for you.
Seventh. Jealousy. A little is OK, a lot is not. If you see us staring at some sexpot on TV, don't get your panties in a bunch. We'll never meet her and if we do, we don't stand a chance. Jen is the only one that needs to worry. I can have any woman I want.
Eighth. Take care of yourself. No matter how fat and out of shape we get, you need to look good. Now I know the years puts a few pounds on everybody and I'm not talking about weight. I'm talking about make-up, hair, fashionable clothes and what ever else it is you ladies require. When we go out, other girls need to look at you, then us, and question what the hell is so special about us, that you still take the time to make yourself up.
Ninth. Attention. We need lots of it, when we want it and none when we don't. It's up to you to know when.
Tenth. The male ego. Treat it like a dick, stroke it once and a while. It's a big circle, the better you make us feel, the better we'll make you feel.
Eleventh. Hints. We don't do hints. If you want something from us "Spit it out woman."
Twelfth. Dinner. It needs to be warm and on the table when we come through the door. If for some reason it's not, our attention can be diverted by a little "afternoon delight".
Thirteenth. You will never be as good a cook as our moms. Except my mom, everybody is a better cook than my mom.
Fourteenth. Don't be a bitch. Don't say you're proud to be a bitch. Forget the word bitch. Men don't like bitches.
Fifteenth. The penis. It's as fragile as our egos. Most of us saw our dads willys when we were very young. It looked huge compared to ours. That is stuck in our minds. It's never big enough. So lie to us once and a while. I suggest: "OH my God, you'll kill me with that thing. I never knew they could be so big."
Sixteenth. Don't insult us in front of our friends. If you do the relationship is going to eventually end.
Seventeenth. The remote control. It's ours.
Eighteenth. Don't ask us to watch some panty waisted show with you. We don't expect you to watch the lumberjack competition with us.
Nineteenth. We don't want to hear about your ex. We don't even want to know you have an ex. We like to believe we were the first.
Twentieth. Tell us when the oil light come on in the car. Don't wait a week and tell us when the engine starts making a very loud knocking noise.
Twenty-first. Treat us like kings and we'll treat you like goddesses.
I'm not saying you ladies should let a man get away with a bunch of shit. If he starts in with the shit, dump him. If he's an asshole, dump him. All I'm saying is if you'll make us feel special, we in turn, will treat you right.
Oh and give those nice guys a chance. I used to be one of them.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Monday, May 02, 2005
Answers
First let me say to the whiners. I never said when I would answer, I only said I would answer. Which I am doing now. Some of these answers will be serious and some will be funny. They will all however, be what I would do. Please don't take offense and in some cases you may not want to follow my advice. I am only telling you what I would do, not what you should do.
Let's get started.
Jack wanted to know why I'm so sexy. It's a combination of factors, genetics and he's a flaming mo.
Jeanette wanted to know what I would do about a stalker. Nothing. When you try to stop them, they cook your rabbit.
Inanna wanted to know how I go about making tough decisions that would affect many people. I weigh out the consequences to every scenario then I pick the one that would benefit ME the most.
Nightmare wants to know where his socks are. Look on your feet or in the second drawer from the top.
Cooter wants too know why no one ever asks her out. It's because you intimidate men. Ask them out instead, it is the 21st century after all.
Tammy wants to know what men like as far as romance. What the fuck is romance? We just want to be attacked when we walk through the door.
Brighton needs to get revenge on Mrs. Cuntface. Buy an untraceable trac phone. Then call every plumber, general contractor, electrician, etc. in the phone book. Schedule them all for repair bids at the same time. When they all show up call the police to report a riot across the street. Also call the local TV station and tell them at that exact hour there will be a huge drug bust.
Micki. Honesty is the best policy. I wouldn't hold anything back from any of them.
Aurelia has some issues. Ditch the car in a bad part of town call it in stolen the day before your parents return. Deny everything and don't change your story no matter what.
tCj needs help with her boyfriend. I would replace him, guys are a dime a dozen. You're too young to limit yourself. Live life, it's too short for all that drama.
Jethro wants to know how to make G.W. care about our borders. Wait three years and I'll seal them up.
Franks & Beans wants to tell his man friend to back off without losing that loving feeling. F&B just confess your love for Jack and get it over with.
No Man Love is delusional. Seek professional help.
April wants a hypothetical way to earn lots of money fast. Prostitution.
Veronica wants to know if she should remain anonymous. I believe in telling it all like it is. My real name is Trashman.
Kate the Peon is unsure about some guy. You can't win if you don't roll the dice. Sometimes you crap out and sometimes you roll a seven. But there is always another game around the corner.
Nerwen has problems with her boyfriends ex. Take her to lunch and explain in no uncertain terms it would be very unhealthy for her to ever speak to him again.
RedFred wants to know what I would do if I caught my 17 year old daughters boyfriend sneaking through the window in the middle of the night. I would slam the window on the little fuckers head. Repeatedly.
Let's get started.
Jack wanted to know why I'm so sexy. It's a combination of factors, genetics and he's a flaming mo.
Jeanette wanted to know what I would do about a stalker. Nothing. When you try to stop them, they cook your rabbit.
Inanna wanted to know how I go about making tough decisions that would affect many people. I weigh out the consequences to every scenario then I pick the one that would benefit ME the most.
Nightmare wants to know where his socks are. Look on your feet or in the second drawer from the top.
Cooter wants too know why no one ever asks her out. It's because you intimidate men. Ask them out instead, it is the 21st century after all.
Tammy wants to know what men like as far as romance. What the fuck is romance? We just want to be attacked when we walk through the door.
Brighton needs to get revenge on Mrs. Cuntface. Buy an untraceable trac phone. Then call every plumber, general contractor, electrician, etc. in the phone book. Schedule them all for repair bids at the same time. When they all show up call the police to report a riot across the street. Also call the local TV station and tell them at that exact hour there will be a huge drug bust.
Micki. Honesty is the best policy. I wouldn't hold anything back from any of them.
Aurelia has some issues. Ditch the car in a bad part of town call it in stolen the day before your parents return. Deny everything and don't change your story no matter what.
tCj needs help with her boyfriend. I would replace him, guys are a dime a dozen. You're too young to limit yourself. Live life, it's too short for all that drama.
Jethro wants to know how to make G.W. care about our borders. Wait three years and I'll seal them up.
Franks & Beans wants to tell his man friend to back off without losing that loving feeling. F&B just confess your love for Jack and get it over with.
No Man Love is delusional. Seek professional help.
April wants a hypothetical way to earn lots of money fast. Prostitution.
Veronica wants to know if she should remain anonymous. I believe in telling it all like it is. My real name is Trashman.
Kate the Peon is unsure about some guy. You can't win if you don't roll the dice. Sometimes you crap out and sometimes you roll a seven. But there is always another game around the corner.
Nerwen has problems with her boyfriends ex. Take her to lunch and explain in no uncertain terms it would be very unhealthy for her to ever speak to him again.
RedFred wants to know what I would do if I caught my 17 year old daughters boyfriend sneaking through the window in the middle of the night. I would slam the window on the little fuckers head. Repeatedly.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
WWTD
What Would Trashman Do?
I know a lot of you spend your days thinking about me, wondering what kind of guy I really am. Well I'm going to give you the opportunity to delve into my psyche and solve some of your problems at the same time. This will be a unique chance to see my take on things. A once in a lifetime deal (unless I come up short on subjects, then I'll probably do this again).
So here's what we're going to do. If you have a question for me, leave it in the comments section, unless it's a really long scenario then email it to me at trashman64@gmail.com.
These questions can be about any problem you have, but I won't answer questions like favorite food, favorite color, none of that crap. I am here to solve YOUR problems.
Let's say your boyfriend/girlfriend is cheating on you or your boss is giving you a hard time. Just ask me what to do. Your car won't start? I've got the answer. Neighbors too noisy? I can tell you how to fix it. Fellas, are you too shy to talk to the hot girl down the street? I'll hook you up. Ladies, do you notice an unusual smell emanating from your nether regions? I am the man that nose (knows) what to do. Are you being stalked? I have first hand experience with this one. Want to get revenge on someone? God left me in charge of that department until He gets back. Feel free to ask me about any problem you have or make one up, it doesn't matter to me.
All questions and answers will be published in the next post. If you want your question to remain anonymous email me at trashman64@gmail.com and let me know.
Remember, there's no such thing as a stupid question, except for the one you just asked.
I know a lot of you spend your days thinking about me, wondering what kind of guy I really am. Well I'm going to give you the opportunity to delve into my psyche and solve some of your problems at the same time. This will be a unique chance to see my take on things. A once in a lifetime deal (unless I come up short on subjects, then I'll probably do this again).
So here's what we're going to do. If you have a question for me, leave it in the comments section, unless it's a really long scenario then email it to me at trashman64@gmail.com.
These questions can be about any problem you have, but I won't answer questions like favorite food, favorite color, none of that crap. I am here to solve YOUR problems.
Let's say your boyfriend/girlfriend is cheating on you or your boss is giving you a hard time. Just ask me what to do. Your car won't start? I've got the answer. Neighbors too noisy? I can tell you how to fix it. Fellas, are you too shy to talk to the hot girl down the street? I'll hook you up. Ladies, do you notice an unusual smell emanating from your nether regions? I am the man that nose (knows) what to do. Are you being stalked? I have first hand experience with this one. Want to get revenge on someone? God left me in charge of that department until He gets back. Feel free to ask me about any problem you have or make one up, it doesn't matter to me.
All questions and answers will be published in the next post. If you want your question to remain anonymous email me at trashman64@gmail.com and let me know.
Remember, there's no such thing as a stupid question, except for the one you just asked.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Burger Or Filet Mignon
It's been a long time and many of you may not remember it, but I gave you the opportunity to vote on my next post; way back when. Then bad news struck, followed by sort of good news. There have been some other developments as far as my own health since then. I will touch on that later, hell I may even touch on myself. Anyhow (you notice I didn't use the word anywho), you good people voted for a story called Burger Or Filet Mignon, so here it is.
A long time ago (about 6 years) in a galaxy far far away (New Jersey) a Jedi Pimp (me) drove a princess (whore) on her appointed rounds one night. That sentence should cause lots of chaos with the search engines.
I was driving Mercedes (the girl, not the car), you remember her from this story. Mercedes was an unusual sort of girl, she had a masters degree in education (she was a school teacher) and she only "worked" for shopping money. In other words when she wanted to buy some new clothes she worked for me. She was absolutely beautiful; tan skin, green eyes and brown hair, a very petite tight body. She was half Indian (India) and half Puerto Rican, and it made one hell of a combination. Unfortunately like so many of the other girls, she had "issues". The first call of every night she would have to be convinced to go in, this consisted of at least 15 minutes of a pep talk and assuring her she was beautiful. She needed to feel wanted and sexy, once inside she made more money than any girl I ever drove.
On this particular night, I drove her to a very large building in Jersey City. The building was down by the Hudson River and it reeked of money. I started with the usual routine of telling her how great she looked (it was pretty much a rehearsed speech), but she just wasn't feeling it. She asked me to walk her to the door of the apartment. She wanted me to make sure the customer was happy with her. I knew I wasn't getting her inside any other way, so I obliged. In the elevator on the way up I stated to read the call sheet.
Trashman: "Uh-oh"
Mercedes (panicked): "What. What's wrong."
Trashman: "This is a two guy call."
Mercedes: "I've done those before. Lots of money, for both of us."
Trashman: "Yeah, well these guys are Mr. Suzuki and Mr. Yamaha. They ordered a white girl."
Mercedes (starting to cry): "I knew it. I knew I just wasn't good enough. I'm not pretty."
Trashman: "Stop with the theatrics. We're not at the door yet. I'll convince them to keep you."
Mercedes (sniffling): "OK"
When we got to the door, I gave Mercedes a couple of seconds to compose herself, then I knocked. The door was opened by a very short, fat, bespeckeled Japanese man. He fit every stereotypical comedy character you have ever seen. Then he spoke. All I can say is when you read his lines, you need to use your worst "making-fun-of-the-way-a-Japanese-tourist-talks" voice. Not that I would know how to do that myself, I don't have any preconceived ideals about other races (as evidenced here).
Mr. Suzuki: "Can I'uh help ah you?"
Trashman: "Here's the girl you asked for."
Mr. S: "That not ah the girl. Order ah white ah girl."
Trashman: "She's white, she just tans a lot."
Mr. S: "Not ah the girl. Want ah white girl. She not ah white."
Trashman: "I'm telling you she's white."
Mr. S: "You not ah understand. We want ah blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Want ah HONKEY."
Trashman: "Let me ask you a question. Do you know the difference between burger and filet mignon?"
Mr. S: "Burger cheap. Filet very expensive."
Trashman: "Good. I'm here to deliver the filet, if you want burger you'll have to wait 45 minutes."
Mr. S: "Will wait for ah burger. You ah make sure it honkey burger."
He closed the door and I stepped down to the end of the hall with Mercedes following me (she was in tears, I had my work cut out for me). I called the office and started tearing into the phone girl.
Trashman: "Why did you give me this call, they asked for a white girl?"
PG: "The only white girl we have tonight is The Beast of M-town"
The Beast of M-town was everything her name said she was. This bitch was butt ugly. She looked rather manly, about 5'11' and built like a linebacker. Wide shoulders, square jaw, big hands. Some of us wondered if she used to be named Dan. The only thing she had going for her was she sold her ass and she had blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm sure her pale skin came from the fact she was too ugly to leave the house during daylight hours.
Trashman: "Send her, I'll be waiting."
PG: "What? That's a big money call. They don't want her."
Trashman: "Just send her."
She arrived about 30 minutes later. She drove herself because none of the drivers would ever drive her, it was a money losing proposition. She got turned away more than she stayed. I walked her to the apartment door.
Trashman: "This is a two guy call. Big money and possible repeats, don't fuck it up. Make them happy. They're Japanese, they're used to subservient women, so keep your big mouth shut. Do everything they say, within reason, no questions, don't speak unless they tell you to. Got it?"
The Beast: "I don't take no shit from no man."
Trashman: "If you don't tell me you got it, right now, I will use their balcony to dump your ass into the Hudson. NOW, do you got it?"
The Beast: "I got it."
I knocked on the door and Mr. Suzuki answered. This time I could see Mr. Yamaha in the background. They could have been twins.
Trashman: "Here's your burger."
Mr. S (smiling): "Ah very good. You deliver honkey burger."
Trashman: "She meets your requirements?"
Mr. S: "She is ah honkey. All that matters."
Trashman: "You're sure you don't want the filet?"
Mr. S: "No. Burger fine."
Trashman: "OK. Two guys, two hours. That will be $1200.00"
Mr. S: "I give you $2000.00 You share rest with other girl. She ah no cry no more and you did good ah job with burger."
I said thank you, bowed to the man and walked to the elevator. Mercedes and I got onto the elevator and I handed her $400.00
Mercedes (crying): "I'm not sexy. How could they pick her over me?"
Trashman: "You heard the man. He wanted a honkey."
Mercedes (still crying): "I'm ugly. No man wants me."
Trashman: "You just got $400.00 for nothing. Shut up."
Mercedes (crying yet): "I'm not pretty. I'm ugly."
Trashman: "Even with a masters in education, I think you're an idiot."
Mercedes (sniffling): "But am I a pretty idiot?"
Trashman (sighing): "Gorgeous."
A long time ago (about 6 years) in a galaxy far far away (New Jersey) a Jedi Pimp (me) drove a princess (whore) on her appointed rounds one night. That sentence should cause lots of chaos with the search engines.
I was driving Mercedes (the girl, not the car), you remember her from this story. Mercedes was an unusual sort of girl, she had a masters degree in education (she was a school teacher) and she only "worked" for shopping money. In other words when she wanted to buy some new clothes she worked for me. She was absolutely beautiful; tan skin, green eyes and brown hair, a very petite tight body. She was half Indian (India) and half Puerto Rican, and it made one hell of a combination. Unfortunately like so many of the other girls, she had "issues". The first call of every night she would have to be convinced to go in, this consisted of at least 15 minutes of a pep talk and assuring her she was beautiful. She needed to feel wanted and sexy, once inside she made more money than any girl I ever drove.
On this particular night, I drove her to a very large building in Jersey City. The building was down by the Hudson River and it reeked of money. I started with the usual routine of telling her how great she looked (it was pretty much a rehearsed speech), but she just wasn't feeling it. She asked me to walk her to the door of the apartment. She wanted me to make sure the customer was happy with her. I knew I wasn't getting her inside any other way, so I obliged. In the elevator on the way up I stated to read the call sheet.
Trashman: "Uh-oh"
Mercedes (panicked): "What. What's wrong."
Trashman: "This is a two guy call."
Mercedes: "I've done those before. Lots of money, for both of us."
Trashman: "Yeah, well these guys are Mr. Suzuki and Mr. Yamaha. They ordered a white girl."
Mercedes (starting to cry): "I knew it. I knew I just wasn't good enough. I'm not pretty."
Trashman: "Stop with the theatrics. We're not at the door yet. I'll convince them to keep you."
Mercedes (sniffling): "OK"
When we got to the door, I gave Mercedes a couple of seconds to compose herself, then I knocked. The door was opened by a very short, fat, bespeckeled Japanese man. He fit every stereotypical comedy character you have ever seen. Then he spoke. All I can say is when you read his lines, you need to use your worst "making-fun-of-the-way-a-Japanese-tourist-talks" voice. Not that I would know how to do that myself, I don't have any preconceived ideals about other races (as evidenced here).
Mr. Suzuki: "Can I'uh help ah you?"
Trashman: "Here's the girl you asked for."
Mr. S: "That not ah the girl. Order ah white ah girl."
Trashman: "She's white, she just tans a lot."
Mr. S: "Not ah the girl. Want ah white girl. She not ah white."
Trashman: "I'm telling you she's white."
Mr. S: "You not ah understand. We want ah blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Want ah HONKEY."
Trashman: "Let me ask you a question. Do you know the difference between burger and filet mignon?"
Mr. S: "Burger cheap. Filet very expensive."
Trashman: "Good. I'm here to deliver the filet, if you want burger you'll have to wait 45 minutes."
Mr. S: "Will wait for ah burger. You ah make sure it honkey burger."
He closed the door and I stepped down to the end of the hall with Mercedes following me (she was in tears, I had my work cut out for me). I called the office and started tearing into the phone girl.
Trashman: "Why did you give me this call, they asked for a white girl?"
PG: "The only white girl we have tonight is The Beast of M-town"
The Beast of M-town was everything her name said she was. This bitch was butt ugly. She looked rather manly, about 5'11' and built like a linebacker. Wide shoulders, square jaw, big hands. Some of us wondered if she used to be named Dan. The only thing she had going for her was she sold her ass and she had blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm sure her pale skin came from the fact she was too ugly to leave the house during daylight hours.
Trashman: "Send her, I'll be waiting."
PG: "What? That's a big money call. They don't want her."
Trashman: "Just send her."
She arrived about 30 minutes later. She drove herself because none of the drivers would ever drive her, it was a money losing proposition. She got turned away more than she stayed. I walked her to the apartment door.
Trashman: "This is a two guy call. Big money and possible repeats, don't fuck it up. Make them happy. They're Japanese, they're used to subservient women, so keep your big mouth shut. Do everything they say, within reason, no questions, don't speak unless they tell you to. Got it?"
The Beast: "I don't take no shit from no man."
Trashman: "If you don't tell me you got it, right now, I will use their balcony to dump your ass into the Hudson. NOW, do you got it?"
The Beast: "I got it."
I knocked on the door and Mr. Suzuki answered. This time I could see Mr. Yamaha in the background. They could have been twins.
Trashman: "Here's your burger."
Mr. S (smiling): "Ah very good. You deliver honkey burger."
Trashman: "She meets your requirements?"
Mr. S: "She is ah honkey. All that matters."
Trashman: "You're sure you don't want the filet?"
Mr. S: "No. Burger fine."
Trashman: "OK. Two guys, two hours. That will be $1200.00"
Mr. S: "I give you $2000.00 You share rest with other girl. She ah no cry no more and you did good ah job with burger."
I said thank you, bowed to the man and walked to the elevator. Mercedes and I got onto the elevator and I handed her $400.00
Mercedes (crying): "I'm not sexy. How could they pick her over me?"
Trashman: "You heard the man. He wanted a honkey."
Mercedes (still crying): "I'm ugly. No man wants me."
Trashman: "You just got $400.00 for nothing. Shut up."
Mercedes (crying yet): "I'm not pretty. I'm ugly."
Trashman: "Even with a masters in education, I think you're an idiot."
Mercedes (sniffling): "But am I a pretty idiot?"
Trashman (sighing): "Gorgeous."
Thursday, April 14, 2005
According To The Experts.....
Mom got her everything scanned yesterday. They ran every test possible on her, except for the PET Scan, whatever that is. The doctor said he doesn't think she has cancer and if she does it is just barely beginning. He told her that he thinks she has (in her words) "pulmonary sumthin or nuther". He is sending her to a breathing specialist, Monday. They want to see if her lungs will survive surgery, if she passes the test, they are going to cut out the "pulmonary sumthin or nuther". After she gave me this info she told me; "Don't start counting your money yet." I happily informed her that "if she gave me my share now, she wouldn't have to worry about me waiting for her to die". It was nice to hear her laugh and if felt good to laugh with her.
So, since I received good news today, I am going to make some of you ladies very happy. I know you miss Jack, and I know a lot of you were big fans of his scuba diving pictures (something about his arms). Well I found another picture of Jack on the beach for you to enjoy. Without further ado..........
I just want to add a BIG Thank you to all of y'all for the well wishes and prayers. I give all the credit to y'all for my moms good news.
So, since I received good news today, I am going to make some of you ladies very happy. I know you miss Jack, and I know a lot of you were big fans of his scuba diving pictures (something about his arms). Well I found another picture of Jack on the beach for you to enjoy. Without further ado..........
I just want to add a BIG Thank you to all of y'all for the well wishes and prayers. I give all the credit to y'all for my moms good news.
Friday, April 08, 2005
No News Is Good News?
Yesterday my mom had her blood work done. Next Wednesday she is scheduled for a MRI, bone scan, CT scan and brain scan. Information is coming in really slow. The only new thing I know is it seems her cancer may have moved outside of her lungs. We're not real sure yet, but that is what we can figure from the report from her original doctor. In the meantime I'm going to try to get back to some kind of normal life.
So for your enjoyment: (Found this through Mace)
Yeah your fuckin with the Trashman honey
Get back on the streets and get my money
Once again THANKS to all of you for your support and well wishes, and have a good weekend.
So for your enjoyment: (Found this through Mace)
Yeah your fuckin with the Trashman honey
Get back on the streets and get my money
Once again THANKS to all of you for your support and well wishes, and have a good weekend.
Friday, April 01, 2005
It Ain't Pretty
I got the call at 10:47 am yesterday. Mom has small cell carcinoma. She's leaving for Arlington this morning to go to "one of the country's premier cancer centers". Evidently people come from all over the world to go to this place. I don't know what her odds are yet. I won't really know anything until next Thursday, that's when she has her first appointment.
I did some research on small cell carcinoma. It is caused by smoking and only 20% of lung cancer is small cell. It is also very aggressive. People that have surgery are four times more likely to survive than those that don't (hers is inoperable). There are two stages, limited and extensive. For limited stage small cell cancer, cure rates may be as high as 25%, while cure rates for extensive stage disease are less than 5%. Limited means it is confined to the lung and extensive means it has traveled to other parts of the body. So far we think she has the limited variety. Patients with extensive disease have a median survival duration of less than 1 year. Patients with localized disease (ie, limited stage) have a median survival duration of less than 2 years. The 5-year survival rate for small cell carcinoma is less than 20%.
The only cure is chemotherapy and radiation. The only way to avoid small cell carcinoma is to stop smoking. So best case scenario is she's in the 25% that gets cured. Worst case is 2-5 years of not-so-quality life left.
I want to thank every one for the well wishes and e-mails. It has meant a lot to me. On the exterior every thing is normal. Internally I am a wreck. Your comments and e-mails have helped me make it from day to day. Those of you that I have the phone numbers for, I will be calling eventually.
I did some research on small cell carcinoma. It is caused by smoking and only 20% of lung cancer is small cell. It is also very aggressive. People that have surgery are four times more likely to survive than those that don't (hers is inoperable). There are two stages, limited and extensive. For limited stage small cell cancer, cure rates may be as high as 25%, while cure rates for extensive stage disease are less than 5%. Limited means it is confined to the lung and extensive means it has traveled to other parts of the body. So far we think she has the limited variety. Patients with extensive disease have a median survival duration of less than 1 year. Patients with localized disease (ie, limited stage) have a median survival duration of less than 2 years. The 5-year survival rate for small cell carcinoma is less than 20%.
The only cure is chemotherapy and radiation. The only way to avoid small cell carcinoma is to stop smoking. So best case scenario is she's in the 25% that gets cured. Worst case is 2-5 years of not-so-quality life left.
I want to thank every one for the well wishes and e-mails. It has meant a lot to me. On the exterior every thing is normal. Internally I am a wreck. Your comments and e-mails have helped me make it from day to day. Those of you that I have the phone numbers for, I will be calling eventually.
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