Okay, well, here I am! Back as promised. Did you forget? Did you try? I know. Since it is regarding the little Scant and Insufficient, I'd try to forget too ... if only I had that luxury. Oh, well. On with the story!
So, since our Malachite No-More managed to make it through the whole scary Radiation process, he decided to get in on more of the action. Of course he did. What a glutton for punishment. So onward he went to his next stop ... the Chemotherapy wing of the Cancer Center. Naturally. Are we surprised? I know I'm not even raising an eyebrow. Come to think of it, I'm not sure I even have any eyebrows. Nonetheless, I will somehow manage to adequately relay my non-amazement. I can be very expressive when I try.
Anyway, back to the Chemotherapy. Yep, that little Sage-Colored Perished was delighted at the prospect of giving chemicals a whirl. After all, if the Goatmother could do it, he certainly figured he could. Overconfidence never looked so green.
Here he is being greeted by the World's Greatest Medical Oncology Nurse and the World's Greatest Patient Navigator. Do we see the same looks of gleeful anticipation worn recently by those Radiation Technicians? Hmmm ...
Anyway, the next step was to check in. Here we see the microscopic Lime Lout kindly helping out behind the desk. After all, he didn't want anyone to get the information wrong. The only problem was that he couldn't remember his date of birth and they didn't have a place for 'date of turn' or 'date of first bite' or 'date someone stupidly thought to create such a menance'. None of those things. And still she smiles.
Now, I want you to know that the Chemotherapy wing has style. They actually decorated for Halloween! That short Stunted and Stiff felt right at home. They have a way of doing that there - making their patients feel right at home. Isn't that great? I bet if they had any goat patients, they'd probably supply them with Peanuts. I'm just sayin' ... in case they read this. Or get any goat patients. Or any Peanuts they might want to send home with existing patients. It never hurts to make suggestions.
After checking in and visiting with the decor, it was time for treatment. Here you can see the little Undersized and Useless waiting in the chair with bated breath.
Of course he is a bit more height-challenged than your average patient so ... he had to have a little booster seat.
Then in came the nurse and set right to hooking up our intrepid little Dead Deviant.
It's usually kind of quiet in the Chemotherapy wing, but let me tell you folks, you could hear that Chartreuse Cretin yelling, "Turn the drip up all the way! Woo Hoo!!!!", clear down the hallway into the lobby. Goat Grief. How embarrassing is that?
Here's a close up. See the needle taped to his arm? And he's still smiling. Oy.
So I suppose that little Unmitigated Muttonhead has a much better constitution than anyone thought possible because he didn't lose his hair and it didn't turn white. Or any other shade, for that matter. And we certainly can't say his color is any worse. He didn't even get bloodshot eyes, though he probably would have liked that. Some guys have all the luck.
Yes, my friends, the Little UnDead made it through quite nicely. He maintains it's all just a matter of clean living and right thinking. In his case we can honestly say that's just a crock of goat berries since there's certainly nothing clean about his living conditions (you should see his room). And his thinking? That's definitely more out in left field than right. What. Ever.
So there you have it. I guess you could call his little sojourn a success. He made it through anyway.
"Success is not a place at which one arrives but rather the spirit with which one undertakes and continues the journey." - Alex Noble
There is that, now isn't there?
Stay tuned. Unfortunately he isn't quite done yet. But you can keep your eyes open. The scariest part is over.