Battle raging within.

My gut has become something to behold. A swollen dome, circumscribing a raging battlefield within. God only knows what’s going on in there.

But I’m guessing the gorillas are now fully involved in the fray. What are they doing? I’ve got no idea. I don’t know where they come from, or what they’re trained to do, or how good their training was. I only know that at the moment they’re the only gorillas I’ve got. And that they’re scattered across the battlefield, thrusting swords into the smoke-filled darkness. Five days and counting . . .

These guys were recruited but not prescreened. The conversation with the medical director at LA1 last week went something like this:

Paul: “I need the gorillas.”
Doc: “The two trials we discussed last month are temporarily closed. But a new trial of a promising drug just opened.”
Paul: “Let’s get ‘em”.
Doc: “Technically, it’s immunotherapy, not chemotherapy.”
Paul, to Cecily: “Hmmm . . . what do you think?”
Cecily: “Maybe they’re only chimps, but a chimp will fuck you up good in a fight.”
Paul, to Doc: “Bring on the chimps.”

And so I opened my vein to this group: “Welcome guys, go do your thing.” But I’ve got no idea what’s going on. Communications are down – signals for pee, poo, and pain are indistinguishable. No matter. Reinforcements are scheduled for Thursday, when a fresh squadron will scatter through my veins. And the battle rages on.