Sunday, January 29, 2006

... and my bone marrow is a scale model of Tokyo

We have received the first entry in our Name That Cell contest from dear family friend and notorious punster Mike P:

"I like 'Godcella.' Ruthless, devastating, kicks butt on miniature things. When doctors diagnose it, they can say, 'Rook! Godcerra!'"

Oh, the rest of you want to try to top this. You know you do.

I doubt, however, you can top this awful thing (and in the world of puns, "awful" means "excellent"), also sent to me by Mike P:

"Glad the trip to the Mayo went so well. Doctors must be more than the J.D. Salinger type of person in Catcher in the Rye -- stopping people before they plummet off the edge. They need to give each patient some direction and hope. The U.S. Women's Soccer team captain, Mia Hamm, knows all about teetering on the edge and flirting with disaster. Her comments, although appropriate, are at best cheesy. I guess my message to you is to heed Mia's comments through the lens of Salinger's book, but cling to what the clinic says. Briefly, put the Hamm and cheese on Rye, but hold the Mayo."



Karen's mom said...

OK, Mike. I can't top you (sigh!) but as long as we're on movie themes, I suggest Badcell Wrathbone - a rather evil sounding name, but optimistic in that it gives hope for detecting a cure, especially if you find a hematologist named Dr. Watson.

Karen, Keep up the good work at giving us a laugh while teaching us more about myeloma and it's numbers.


Karen's sister said...

Why give all of these cells a bad wrap? Why not help along their self-esteem and encourage them to behave? Therefore, I vote for Cindercella, with the hope that one day your cells transform into beautiful princess cells that dance divinely, blush modestly, and live happily every after (with hottie prince charming cells, nonetheless).

By the way, the blog is super! I feel like I have a better understanding of everything now, which, believe it or not, is very helpful. I'm sure you find that when you're explaining your problem to others, they are anxious to put in their two cents on how to cure it. Well, people do the same thing to me, with the addendum to every conversation, "Be sure to tell her... blah blah." Just today (and you should take notes -sarcasam-) someone told me that yoga will be your best bet. Hm... its a wonder the folks at Mayo didn't mention it.

Anyhoo, Liz says hi. Her vote for the contest is "*drool*... Squeek!... gooooooo!" Which we're not sure what it means, but she wanted to be involved.