And even that is a typo! This was day 9 of chemo; that's day 12 on the right
Last Friday Dana came up, and even though I was on the mask it seemed like a good chance to go show off my new secret Arizona Garden. Of course the light wasn't perfect, but it was nice. Back at the room things started progressively downhill, with the steroids building and the space confining. We tried playing some cards (meaning Dana whomps me at Gin), but my hands were turning into crabs. The index finger of my right hand wants to sit alongside my pinkie finker and my thumb wants to stick out the other side. I have to press my hands together in prayer or press them flat on the table to straighten them.
The hands were getting worse after dinner, so I asked the nurse if there was anything to do, and she offered vicodin. So I took a vicodin, an ambien, and an atavan and went to sleep. When I woke up I felt pretty good, all vital signs intact. So I ate my bacon, eggs and potato breakfast, and redeposited same breakfast intact in the toilet ten seconds later. And it was all downwhill from there. Fought those stupid cramps all day, and the overdose of sleeping meds.
I felt better later so Dana and I knocked around, had to teach her cribbage so I could beat her at something. It's getting close though. She's a quick study. After dinner we watched "Charlie Wilson's War" and sat in the umcomfortable chairs. That night I dreamed that I was somehow tied to this uncomfortable chair and couldn't move. When the movie did end, my hips felt like they'd gone 3 rounds with the Russian hockey team; I could barely shuffle along. I asked the nurse for the combo that worked for sleeping the night before and she brought it.
Back in 1992 Johnny and I were sledding down this icy patch and went over a bump of ice. We both went airborn and in trying to cushion his landing I maximized mine and broke my coccyx. Damned If I'm not lying in bed in Palo Alto 16 years later with the awful feeling like I just broke my coccycx again!. Absurd? But that crappy little "We don't really want guests for long" chair conjured up some old juju, so here comes nurse Druggett with some more vicodin. I finally fall asleep with lots of drugs. When I wake up later in the afternoon I am really hungry, my coccyxx is sore but not broken, and I heat up the soup from lunch. It lasted longer in the microwave than it did in me. So I played 'House' yesterday, trying to figure out what I can eat. I finally settled on tuna sandwich at 2pm and all is well. Just an ambien tonight please.
Dana left Monday afternoon and is coming back today (Tuesday) with John and Mike for a visit. The doctors just gave me some good news in that I am no longer neutropenic and may get to go home a week early (again), like day 22! I can't help but think that some of that idyllic downtime provided by you all for my WBCs really helped; check out where a bunch were hanging in Nicaragua
. The trick now is to not get ahead of yourself and just take it one day at a time. Sister Lisa's test kit is already on the way, the magic kit!
The hands were getting worse after dinner, so I asked the nurse if there was anything to do, and she offered vicodin. So I took a vicodin, an ambien, and an atavan and went to sleep. When I woke up I felt pretty good, all vital signs intact. So I ate my bacon, eggs and potato breakfast, and redeposited same breakfast intact in the toilet ten seconds later. And it was all downwhill from there. Fought those stupid cramps all day, and the overdose of sleeping meds.
I felt better later so Dana and I knocked around, had to teach her cribbage so I could beat her at something. It's getting close though. She's a quick study. After dinner we watched "Charlie Wilson's War" and sat in the umcomfortable chairs. That night I dreamed that I was somehow tied to this uncomfortable chair and couldn't move. When the movie did end, my hips felt like they'd gone 3 rounds with the Russian hockey team; I could barely shuffle along. I asked the nurse for the combo that worked for sleeping the night before and she brought it.
Back in 1992 Johnny and I were sledding down this icy patch and went over a bump of ice. We both went airborn and in trying to cushion his landing I maximized mine and broke my coccyx. Damned If I'm not lying in bed in Palo Alto 16 years later with the awful feeling like I just broke my coccycx again!. Absurd? But that crappy little "We don't really want guests for long" chair conjured up some old juju, so here comes nurse Druggett with some more vicodin. I finally fall asleep with lots of drugs. When I wake up later in the afternoon I am really hungry, my coccyxx is sore but not broken, and I heat up the soup from lunch. It lasted longer in the microwave than it did in me. So I played 'House' yesterday, trying to figure out what I can eat. I finally settled on tuna sandwich at 2pm and all is well. Just an ambien tonight please.
Dana left Monday afternoon and is coming back today (Tuesday) with John and Mike for a visit. The doctors just gave me some good news in that I am no longer neutropenic and may get to go home a week early (again), like day 22! I can't help but think that some of that idyllic downtime provided by you all for my WBCs really helped; check out where a bunch were hanging in Nicaragua
. The trick now is to not get ahead of yourself and just take it one day at a time. Sister Lisa's test kit is already on the way, the magic kit!
So good to see you’re back on the blog John. I do hope you’re feeling better. When I know you’re not writing on the blog, it’s a little like watching a dog in labor, about to shoot out a litter of puppies – you know you’re about to see more great stuff and can’t wait for it to happen. There we go with that “smell of the dog” thing again.
ReplyDeleteA very interesting recognition about Randy Pausch. I happened to see a worthy segment about him on the news. His attitude during his fight was quite impressive. You have nothing to hang your head about on that front John.
If it’s a tuna sandwich that gets you by, let us know if we need to install a main line from the nearest tuna plant, or if I need to arrange for some local rednecks to “whack” Charlie The Tuna man himself. I think I need to check – that may not be illegal in Bama.
Mac
Hi John,
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're feeling better. So often, it's managing the meds in combinations and side effects that complicates our lives.
Love,
G
Hi John and Dana
ReplyDeleteI check in and read what I can each day before Patience wakes up. Mike and I watched twenty min of that guy's last speech before Mike had to go to work--funny and interesting--we'll maybe get to see the rest of it later. Hi to Pat, I love your comments. I'll leave you with the word verification on this comment screen which is, ZEEOGSIJ it seemed to fit with that hand cramping--ouch!
Hi Sue!
ReplyDeleteI spend many coffee breaks looking at the beautiful paintings on your blog! but don't worry, I only do the blurt-out-a-lot-of-random comments thing here on holycow. who knows why I even do it here, but I am pretty sure there is some kind of subliminal truth serum hypnosis embedded in John's posts that makes a lot of us, just...well, go out and try to kill tunas with good taste?