Along with reading the paper every day, cutting out articles for me and buying me Thai food, my dad has been getting treatment for his prostate cancer over the past month or so. The doctor’s advice was to radiate the cancer but only after he builds up his immune system, concluding that my father wasn’t in the best physical position to handle the effects of radiation. He has been coming into the city once a week to get various treatments from a licensed MD who practices a rare combination of Eastern and Western medicine.

One of his treatments involves the taking of blood out of his body, exposing it to ultraviolet light and then putting it back inside. Apparently, when you expose blood to ultraviolet rays, the white blood cell count multiples by 39 times. (WHAT? Can someone do that to me for fun?!) So, when the blood is put back into his body, the white blood cells race to the cancer and kick its ass. I am loving that image. I asked my dad if he could feel the white blood cells unleashing their heroic power on the cancer and he said no. I was pretty disappointed.

He was recently given another type of treatment to take home with him and administer himself. It involves injecting himself with some sort of mistletoe extract. The doctor showed him the proper dosage and how to stick the needle into his stomach. I asked him if it hurt and he said not at all. I’m going to believe him but only because my dad has a high tolerance for pain. In fact, he once walked around with a broken finger for three months before realizing it was broken. The doctor was like “You didn’t feel the swelling and the bits and pieces of bone just hanging out in your finger?” My dad was all, “Uhhh. No. I thought it just looked a little funny.” To this day, we have no idea how he did this. ANYWAY.

He called to tell me about the mistletoe.

Dad: You know, like the Christmas stuff!

Laura: RIGHT RIGHT. Mistletoe and kissing! WAHHHHHHHH I DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND.

Dad: We’re talking about me and my cancer.

Laura: Right. I know. Sorry.

Dad: So, I inject the mistletoe inta my stomach and it fights the cancer!

Laura: Wow. Who knew!?

Dad: I didn’t!!! There are three types of mistletoe apparently and one of dem has been proven to fight cancer.

Laura: You mean, kick your cancer’s ASS.

Dad: Exactly.

Laura: Does that bother you? Sticking a needle in your stomach a few times a week!?

Dad: Nah. I don’t feel it. There could be some possible side effects though.

Laura: Oh my God, like what!? Like nausea, vomiting, drowsiness, Lyme’s Disease, sudden DEATH!?!?!?

Dad: No. Like, I told your mom she better watch out. With all this mistletoe running through me, I have a feeling some ladies are going to start running after me, trying to kiss my stomach.

Laura: I….don’t even know what to say about that.

Dad: I know. But you better say it nicely. I have cancer. I could die.

Laura: DAD!!!!!!!

Dad: HAHA! I’m kidding.

Mistletoe and ultraviolet rays, the perfect additions to a Happy Holiday Season.