From the Bed of Big Daddy Graham

Radiation and chemo are finished, a few thoughts on fencing, and why doesn’t anyone on "24" ever eat a meatball sandwich?

ON THE MEDICAL FRONTDONE! Finished the last of my 33 radiation and 8 chemo treatments. The chemo treatments were cake. All I had to do was sit in a recliner while they filled me up with drugs. Hell, I've been doing that FOR FUN for years. The radiation, however, was another story. I had to lay on this narrow flat table where they would strap this mask on me. The mask was a cross between the Hannibal Lecter model and a fencing mask. Maybe you don't even get what I mean by a fencing mask. Who the hell fences anymore? Come to think of it, I never knew anyone who did. And I believe there was a time when my high school, West Catholic, had a fencing team. Boy, tell me those guys weren't tormented by the rest of the school. Why do I doubt that being on the fencing team was an advantage for picking up chicks at dances?

From the Bed of Big Daddy Graham

Good news about the cancer, some thoughts about Tony Robbins, and some total BS from Sandra Bullock

Longtime Philly comedian and radio guy Big Daddy Graham is currently recuperating from major back surgery and fighting throat cancer at the same time. He’s been off his overnight shift at WIP and in his bed 90 percent of the time. Every week he chronicles his recovery … and tells us just what the hell he’s thinking about while he’s spending all that time in sack.

 

ON THE MEDICAL FRONTThe tumor is gone! Now while I still have more radiations to go and the doctors are telling me the next few weeks are gonna be murder on me, this SHOULD be great cause for celebration, eh? Two things preventing this. One, I CAN'T EAT! For the last 10 days I have eaten no "solid" food other than my wife's scrambled eggs. Two, what's next?

From the Bed of Big Daddy Graham

This week: 90 minutes on the john

Longtime Philly comedian and radio guy Big Daddy Graham is currently recuperating from major back surgery and fighting throat cancer at the same time. He’s been off his overnight shift at WIP and in his bed 90 percent of the time. Every week he chronicles his recovery … and tells us just what the hell he’s thinking about while he’s spending all that time in sack.ON THE MEDICAL FRONTWell, the worst of times have arrived. The docs told me this was gonna happen at the end and, brother, were they correct. It's throat cancer, right? So imagine having your entire mouth full of thumbtacks 24/7 and you get the drift. There's about 15 of them stuck in the top and bottom of my tongue and the rest I just chew on. Every minute, every day.Because of this I can't eat. I have to drink bottle after bottle of this bullshit concoction called Ensure. Oh, it's just loaded with vitamins. Sure it is. Everything loaded with vitamins taste like crap. Meanwhile, since I've been trapped in bed most of the time, I've been watching a ton of ballgames. Phils, Flyers, NBA playoffs — and every stinkin' commercial is for food. REAL FOOD. Pizza, bacon cheeseburgers, succulent steaks. IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY! I never realized how much of our day is consumed by eating and talking about eating.

From the Bed of Big Daddy Graham

Okay, I’m recovering from cancer. But does that mean I have to stop being funny?

Longtime Philly comedian and radio guy Big Daddy Graham is currently recuperating from major back surgery and fighting throat cancer at the same time (when Big Daddy gets sick, he goes all out). He's been off his overnight shift at WIP and in his bed 90 percent of the time. In this weekly series of posts, he'll tell us what happened to him, update us on his treatment ... and tell us just what the hell he's thinking about while he's spending all that time in sack. — ED.So I go into Jefferson Hospital for what is going to be a doozy of a back surgery. They're gonna fuse L2 through L5, lower back. I'm gonna be in the hospital for at least five days and then I'm gonna have to wear this Terminator-style brace for three stinkin' months. I'll be in bed at home for weeks, almost completely immobile. My wife's gotta wipe my ass, for Chrissakes. However, none of these reasons are the cause of me putting off this surgery for eight months even though I couldn't walk down the street without looking like Quasimodo.