Head games

I'm getting the feeling that cancer has gotten into the cockpit of my brain and is messing with my control panel —spinning dials, flipping levers and punching buttons, just to create mischief.

A few friends mentioned recently that my left eye is blinking at a different rate than my right eye. Well, while replacing the bandages on my chin Monday morning, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror and realized that the left eye does not blink at all.

In fact, unless I shut my left eyelid with my fingers —you know, the way priests and doctors do in the movies when they realize that someone is dead— I can't close my left eye at all. This is really creepy, gang. No wonder I have trouble sleeping.

And it explains another weird symptom I've noticed over the past few weeks: every so often, my left eye has been tearing up. I figured I was just becoming a big crybaby but now I'm thinking that cancer is just playing with the knobs in my brain that control my left eye.

It's not only my eye that is acting up: I'm also essentially deaf in the left ear now. That side of my face has been growing gradually numb, and now it has knocked out half of my hearing ability.

Yet another symptom is probably not cancer's doing but a side effect of the Erbitux treatment that I began three weeks ago. At nighttime, my facial skin gets slightly greasy, and I feel slight bumps along the sides of my nose. This must be the onset of the rash that Dr. B2 told me that I can expect as a result of my new treatment.

All of these things have been happening at a brisk pace, which makes me dread what new surprises may be lurking around the corner.

Christmas is in about 10 days, and family members from three states will be coming to Los Angeles to celebrate. I've got just one item on my list for Santa Claus: Don't let cancer get in the way of me having a good time with my family on Christmas.

It's a lot to ask, but not too much to hope for.