On Caucuses and Radioactive Iodine

Brand new year, same old trouble.
Stroke of midnight didn't change a thing.
--The Bottle Rockets, "Brand New Year"

This, our first post of 2008, is one in which we find ourselves contemplative on personal and national issues.

Last night, Iowa held its caucus, which primarily consists of people milling around until the music stops, after which they have to freeze next to a picture of a candidate. Party officials then draw chalk circles around the groups, using the candidate's pictures as a center. Each group is counted and each candidate is assigned a number of "delegates" (whoever they are), based on the crowds of people around their signs. Apparently, not many people were caught standing around Kucinich's or Biden's totems. Too bad for them. But Obama...they grouped around him in droves!

The paper today basically alerted all of America that everybody else running for the Dems nomination should just give up. And I haven't even gotten to the Republicans, who apparently gave nearly 15% of their support to a guy who basically said he didn't even want to be president, anyway! You just have to love this country. Because if I didn't, I would go even crazy than I already am.

On the personal (and much more pressing) side, Monkey is a bit better from her operation, but her voice is very reedy and a bit high pitched. Her doctors have told her that she may recover her regular voice in a month, or this might be her regular voice. She is not too happy to hear that.

More importantly, however, we discovered that her thyroid was cancerous, and that the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes. The surgery seems to have removed the cancer, but, in order to ensure a full recovery, and to drastically lower the possibility of a recurrence, Monkey will need to take radioactive iodine.

Literally, this means that after she takes a pill (about 8 weeks from now), she will be unable to be near another human being (except me) for about a week. We won't be able to sleep in the same bed (or room) and we will have to use separate bathrooms. She will, literally, be radioactive. This will wear off, and she should be free and clear of any bad cells.

The process will probably take two-three months, including the recovery time and the other medication adjustments. Monkey is very unhappy about the possibility of missing several conferences, having to figure out what, if anything, to do about teaching her classes, and missing True/False (which we are both hoping does not happen (it's all a matter of scheduling)).

Much of this is new news for us, and we will most likely have a clearer picture of the future in the future; however, feel free to ring Monkey up (or email her). I'm sure she'd be glad to hear from you.