9-29-2010 2nd day after 4th Chemo

9-29-2010 2nd day after 4th Chemo

Strangely enough, the hiccups show up for a very short time and then disappear. They've not been the problem that they were in the past. Why would that be?

Food does taste different. I'm trying to avoid things somewhat that are totally familiar to me, things that I crave, like Diet Coke, because it's SO obviously different that it is really off-putting. Seems better to drink something you don't drink a lot of because then you really don't notice so much.

Ankles are swollen, my face is some too. And the inside of my mouth I think, will be getting tender again.

I offer these facts to document my journey only. I have no complaints given the circumstances.

Although I don't feel 100% terrific, I did feel good enough today to get out on the bike and ride about 20 miles at a pretty good pace, considering. I think this was the first time I rode so soon after treatment. So I'm feeling pretty good about that.

It was a beautiful early fall day in Illinois and I got out of work in time to take full advantage of it.

To the river and back. Bad cell phone picture included at no extra charge.


I enjoyed the day. Hope you did too.

1st day after 4th chemo 09-28-2010

1st day after 4th chemo 09-28-2010

Not feeling too bad. A little bit of hiccups (nothing like before) but mostly I've had indigestion and urpiness. Made the mistake of having a spicy Mexican entree for lunch and I've had it about 120 times since. First time was the best I must say.

I was a little wired earlier today but now I actually feel a little fatigued.

Also, the usual detached feeling and floaty head are present. And I've taken Tylenol two times for headaches today.

Trying to stay ahead of the curve and be a regular guy. Here's hoping.


It's about 9 PM. I'm going to grab a snack (gotta maintain all this weight I've worked so hard to put on) take my lorazepam, watch a little TV and hit the hay as soon as the sandman arrives.

**

My main boss at work, the guy who hired me, Chuck, is a little under the weather presently. He's scheduled for a medical procedure tomorrow. He took a chance on an unknown quantity when he hired me 6 years ago and he's been great to me through all my challenges. I talked to him tonight and he's in good spirits. Here's a shout out to Chuck, hoping everything goes well.

Chemo # 4 09-27-2010

Chemo # 4 09-27-2010

*** WARNING, this is pretty boring!!! no pictures, either***

Reported for duty at 7:25.

OK, for starters, I gained 7 freaking pounds! In 3 freaking weeks! Maybe that's why I was dragging ass on some of those bike rides. 199.8 lbs. Dr. said maybe now my body is getting some of the nutrition that the cancer was getting before. I think it's just because I've been eating SO much. Prednisone gives me a big appetite. And then I use my frustrating medical condition, lack of taste, etc. as an excuse to strap on a big feed bag.

Counts - wbc 3.5 (LOWest it's been, and out of range) rbc 4.65, hemo 13.9, platelets 152, gran abs 1.9.

I get the feeling from the nurse AND the doctor that they feel my wbc will soon force them to kick my bone marrow in the ass to get it back in range... I think it would be a nuprogren (sp?) injection. We'll see. (Editor's note: It's Neupogen, hello!)

Dr.R asked how I'd been feeling. I told him it took a little longer to get back to normal this time and that I had a little bout with constipation and quite a few minor headaches lately. He asked if I had any more trouble with numbness and I told him very little.

Dr. R. told me to be sure to stay ahead on the anti constipation front via over the counter products, and I am a believer now. Hopefully I won't have to deal with that again. He said the chemo drug vincristine was the likely culprit.

I asked him if my experience with chemo was typical given my diagnosis and the specific regimen I'm on. He said, "well, you're young..." so there was that again. Young is in the eye of the beholder, I guess, and if your patients' average age is 65 (I'm pulling a number out of the air) maybe 52 seems young.

Flu shot: doc said it's ok to get one, 2 weeks post chemo. Nurse said she thinks the standard flu shot includes swine flu vaccine as well this year.

PET scan coming in two weeks also.

I told Dr. R. what the Dermatologist told me (I hadn't gotten a chance to 'blog that yet, sorry).

BEGIN REPORT FROM MY DERMATOLOGIST VISIT 9/23:

That strange thing on my back? Turns out it's a seborrhoeic keratoses, which is a benign epidermal neoplasm, but you probably already knew that, huh? It's a funky but harmless skin lesion.

It's a 'tose, not an 'oma! Sweet!

Anyway, evidently these sometimes develop but they are harmless. They can bleed easily if scratched sometimes. At least that's what I got out of it. He said if I DID get another one, he would want to have a look at it to be sure.

He gave me a good looking over and said I should have my warts blasted. About a year ago I got my first ever wart on my middle finger left hand. I put some meds on it but it never really went completely away. Just recently I developed one on a finger on my right hand and then a tiny one back on the other hand.

The derm doc said with my immune system being compromised with chemo, the warts can run wild. He said it would be best to blast them before they take off. So he cryo blasted 'em and said I should see him again in a month.

He also did a body scan and didn't find any suspicious activity.

I feel obliged to tell you that I was expecting some sort of bad news from this guy, but it all worked out OK.

BACK TO CHEMO

Chemo went well. I hardly napped at all. Got back in my Jeep at 1:09 and was going to go back to work but decided against it (with some prodding via text from Sherri. They must have been stealing stuff from my office and didn't want me to catch them). I've felt mostly fine. I started back on the prednisone and sennokot and now lorazepam. Slight headache is my only symptom.

Came home and lounged, watched the Bears (3 and 0? I've seen it but I still don't believe they're that good). And now I'm not that tired (come on, lorazepam) so I thought I should blast this out.

4 in the rearview mirror, 2 in the windshield.

Thanks for checking.

**
I'm a great-great uncle. Again.

My niece Jonna had girls. Only. 5 of them. Her daughter Alison had girls. Only. 3 of them.

Tonight Jonna's daughter Missy had a baby. Girl..... NO BOYS in that family!

That great a concentration of estrogen could be dangerous!

Congratulations, love and best wishes to Missy and baby girl (no name yet).

09-26-2010

09-26-2010

My second cousin died last week, after a 3 year battle with cancer (leukemia, in this case). I only knew him from family reunions and didn't even know he was sick. He was 364 days older than me. He left behind a wife and 3 children.

**

Tomorrow's Chemo Day, number 4.

I felt really good today. I mowed and trimmed the lawn, burned some yard clippings and an old picnic table we'd cut up. It was sunny and cool this morning. Then this afternoon it was overcast and cool. It was windy all day.



This afternoon I had a really nice bike ride, 26 miles. Funny but today the hills really didn't bother me at all and the wind didn't either. What a difference a couple days make!

I visited my father in law's grave in Millington.



I love to ride but sometimes I wish I had someone to ride with. Then today, something occurred to me. What if I had someone to ride with me but they couldn't keep up? Or, what if I had someone to ride with but I couldn't keep up with them? That might be a drag.

For me, so far, riding is a solitary pursuit. The thing about riding is that I'm alone with my thoughts. I can think through a problem I'm having or I can just not think at all, just keep mindlessly turning the pedals. Or I can concentrate on my riding technique, or on climbing a hill. Whatever I want to do, I do, because it's all mine.

And, I am only racing myself. There's no one to compare myself to, no one to compete against but myself.

Why do I ride? I've asked myself that question a million times. I ride because I feel good when I ride, I feel good after I ride, and I feel good thinking about my next ride. There are a ton of other explanations I could offer (physical fitness, endorphin release, setting / accomplishing goals) but it all boils down to how it makes me feel. Riding is its own reward. I dare you to find out for yourself.

When I first got back in the saddle 3 years ago, I really surprised myself by sticking with it. If I would find a reason NOT to ride one day, I'd beat myself up about backing out after-wards. It occurred to me that I could think of a million reasons to back out and it would be SO easy just to say, 'chuck it, I'm not going'. But if I took all that negative energy and turned it into positive energy by just turning the pedals, I could accomplish something.

15 years ago or so I used to run - a little bit - and it did wonders for me. But I got away from it and although I tried to go back, it never worked for me again. One problem I had was that I pulled a muscle high up on the back of my right leg one time and if I run, I have a problem with that. It gets so sore I can hardly walk. I imagine I must have partially torn a muscle or something and it doesn't bother me unless I push it a little too far. But oh, boy, if I do go too far, I pay dearly. So I gave up running.

I couldn't swim to save my life, so that's not an option.

I really don't like walking but I will do it if I have to. Last winter I walked at an inside track. Boring but effective.

Which brings me to riding. Low impact, anyone can do it, and you can make it whatever you want to make it. You can even make it no exercise at all, by pedaling a little bit and coasting a lot. And I see a lot of people doing just that. Hey, we're Americans, we want to have our cake and eat it too. Lots of it. Then we want to take a pill to make us skinny. We want to act like we are exercising, we buy a bike and pedal 1% of the time and coast the other 99% of the time. And then bitch because we're not losing weight or getting in shape. And then we're so stressed by all this that we need a chocolate donut. Or 2.

But if you get on the bike and slowly work your way up to some decent distances, and concentrate on slowly but surely eliminating the coasting... pretty soon you're actually EXERCISING. And hopefully enjoying it. So you might even keep doing it.

And it's not that hard, and it seems like a ride in the country. Because it is.

You can find bike trails or a country road or some nice side streets in the city. Personally, I don't feel like I want to spend half of my allotted time getting to the venue, so my ride starts when I pedal out of my garage. I have a lot of nice roads around here, and my preferred ride is a road bike, so paved roads it is.

The biggest challenge for me is the motorized vehicles I encounter. You meet all kinds of drivers.

Most people are very courteous. They may not like you on the road with them, but they do accommodate you, some only begrudgingly.

Next are the uninformed, distracted, or unaware. These people mean you no harm but don't understand the law or maybe don't realize how their driving endangers you.

Then we have the first class assholes. They would run you over for sport, then (if they were caught, they would never stop on their own) they would claim you pulled right out in their path and there was no way they could avoid you. There are not a lot of these people out there, but believe me, there are some. And since you don't know when you will encounter these people, you have to assume that every driver you encounter MIGHT fall in this category. Or you could get yourself killed.

These are sick, evil bastards. I have had people pass me at 60 or 65 miles per hour, probably 8" from my left ear. Not funny, not cute, just plain deadly. I truly believe that if they came back to confront me (after I flipped them off) I would physically assault them. I'm not like that. But for them I'd likely make an exception.

I have had my share of close encounters just as anyone who rides a lot has. Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that there are bicyclists who don't obey the law, too. As usual, a few ruin it for everyone else.

I weigh under 200 pounds. I have a Styrofoam helmet. My bike weighs 15 or 20 pounds. I am no match for any motorized vehicle on the road. The law says motorists have to share the road with, and make accommodations for, bicyclists. They don't have to like it, they just have to do it.

I love to ride and I try to choose my roads carefully, for traffic, visibility, etc. There's nothing I can do about the idiot that might kill me but be vigilant, ride defensively, watch my mirror, and be prepared to dive into the ditch if I have to.

I won't give up the hobby I love because some people are idiots. But I do try to minimize my risk.

Tomorrow, Chemo Number 4. After that, only 2 more to go.

Thanks for checking in. Have a great week.

Levels 09-21-2010

Levels 09-21-2010

My levels are good: (see chart) wbc 5.4, rbc 4.62, hemo 13.8, platelets 161, gran abs 3.5.

As usual, click on the chart to view larger version, use browser's back button to get back here.




OK, I look at how my levels fluctuate and I CAN'T FIGURE AN EFFING THING OUT FROM THAT!

Or am I just stew-pid? Rhetorical question, please don't answer. Out loud, anyway.

I think I may need to graph that to see if there's any rhyme or reason.

OK, I graphed it (the Cs at the bottom show when I had chemo):


Note that to keep the chart readable, I had to do some manipulation on the numbers, e.g., divide the platelets by 20, etc. Otherwise the chart was unusable because the wide range of numbers flattened everything out.

Even after I chart it, I CAN'T FIGURE AN EFFING THING OUT FROM LOOKING AT IT!

Maybe it shows that taking prednisone brings your levels back up. And nothing much affects your rbc or hemoglobin. What is just occurring to me is that I should have charted my bike rides to see if there was any correlation with exercise and levels. Wait, that would be goofy.

OK, I'll admit it. Looks like the chart was a stew-pid idea. But it kept me entertained for a while. Maybe it's time to stop tracking this.

I have been feeling good and riding my bike quite a bit.

Last week at the end of the week I rode 21 mi. Thursday, 25 Friday, and 25 on Sunday, tonight I did 21. I don't feel exactly as good as I did pre-chemo. May through August I kicked the hills' asses. I could ride in a tall gear and climb the hills without hardly breaking a sweat or even grabbing a lower gear. Now it's definitely more of a chore and when I get to the top I am grabbing gears and chugging a bit. I had plans for this year, including at least a couple of centuries (100 mile rides). But that didn't work out.

If it weren't for the cancer and the chemo, I'd be pretty bummed about it. But I've basically taken every 3rd week off. It's hard to recover from that quickly, especially at my advanced age (I think my scientific name is fossil-us AARP-eligible-us).

I keep reminding myself I have FREAKIN' cancer, I'm in CHEMO-FREAKIN'-THERAPY and I'm fiftyFREAKIN' two years old. So I think the thing to do is thank my lucky stars and figure that next year will be my break out year, cycling wise.

Yeah, a break out year at 53. It could happen. Not.

I could break out in a rash, maybe.

Oh, another thing. Obviously my treatment has been going very well. I would like to take the proper amount of credit for that. Zero would be the proper amount. I think I've been doing well because of 1) the miracle of modern medicine, 2) excellent health care via Dr. R. and the staff at the clinic, and 3) dumb luck. And some stuff I've read seems to validate that viewpoint.

I spoke to a business acquaintance the other day who lost both parents to cancer. She told me her father had brain cancer. His chemo treatments were given 21 days out of every 28 for 20 months. He was miserable. At the end of it, he died anyway.

My treatments are 1 day out of every 21 for a total of less than 4 months (not counting maintenance). I have hardly been sick.

So I feel very fortunate and almost guilty. Things could be a lot worse.

So far, I've gotten a good prognosis, have had excellent care, and have barely been sick. If I beat this rap, it will be thanks to all the good care I am getting and me not screwing it up by doing something stupid.

Monday's my next chemo and I'm going to ask the doctor when he'll do another PET scan. I'm thinking that must be coming up pretty soon and I'm anxious to see how I'm doing.

If all goes well, I should be done with my chemo (except for the maintenance) before Thanksgiving. I don't remember the last time I was so excited about a holiday.

Hope all is well with you and yours. Don't put off that checkup!

Levels 09-14-10

Levels 09-14-10

(Editor's note: this was originally published with the wrong date. Hello!)

Dear Diary, er, I mean, Dear 'blog,

My levels are all OK. Click on picture to view, BACK button on browser to return here.


I am feeling better, I would say I'm pretty close to 100% now. I have been functional, as far as that goes, just not feeling completely like myself, and I would say the issue is mostly a lingering, dull headache.

I'm trying to think of how to describe it for you... lingering, dull headache... hmm.... won't go away.... hmm...... have you ever been married? It's like that.

OK, that was a joke, honey, I swear, I was kidding. Please don't hit me. Again. Please.

So, anyway, my point being that it takes longer after each successive chemo to get back to normal. Took about 6 days this time. And then after I do get back to "normal" it seems like I am more susceptible to headaches than I was previously.

Not complaining, just 'blogging, you understand.

**

After my blood draw/level readout, I jetted home, wolfed down some chow and hopped on my trusty steed for a quick ride. It was late enough that I had to sprint, basically, to get in 11 miles and get back home before dark.

With regards to cycling, I definitely felt better than I did the other day, but still not exactly my best. Having said that, I hasten to add that I think the difference (cycling wise) between 2 months ago and now is due to not riding enough and therefore getting out of condition, NOT chemotherapy.

**

The nurse that has drawn my blood is a contract employee. We had chatted every time I had a draw and she had told me that she and her husband were selling their house and moving somewhere else. She has been interviewing for a new job at some different locations. She still hasn't landed anywhere yet. When she took this draw, she told me it was her last day.

After she reviewed my results with me, I told her that although this journey wasn't one I would have chosen, I had certainly met some nice folks along the way, including her, and thanked her for her help. We exchanged a hug and best wishes. I hope everything works out for her.

**

I notice that the nurses at the cancer center seem to enjoy their work. I'm sure that's a difficult job at times. I'm sure the terminal cases and people who really suffer present situations that are difficult to cope with. But I guess the patients who are in for a tough time are in for that tough time no matter who their nurses are. So for nurses who are good at their jobs and have good people skills, maybe it's an opportunity to make a positive difference in someone's life, at the MOST important time.

**

Thanks for checking on me! Take care of yourself.

WEEKEND ending 9-12-2010

WEEKEND ending 9-12-2010

Kind of a boring weekend. Friday and Saturday I had a dull headache pretty much the whole time. I didn't do much. Friday after work when I got home, there was a book waiting for me. My sister Mary sent me Robert Penn's "It's All About The Bike". Terrific book for a cyclist nut like me, and highly recommended.

A guy who's ridden bikes his whole life, literally all around the world, decides to build a bike to his exact specifications, from the custom frame to the spokes, seat, etc. As he tells the story of his custom tailored bike, he revisits the history of the bicycle. Sounds boring, I'm sure, but it was actually a great read. Then sister Mary sent me links (youtube) to the original videos (BBC) of his adventures when he was putting this bike together. So, Friday PM and Saturday off and on all day, I read the book and watched the videos. Reading the book was a terrific way to ride out a "feel bad" storm. THANKS, MARY!

Also on Saturday, Austin had gotten some paint and wanted a football field painted out back so we did that (!) and cooked burgers for dinner. Then we watched some TV. I was feeling about 60% of normal, I'd say.

This morning I felt better, so the whole family road tripped to Montana Charlie's, a flea market up in Bolingbrook. Julie's idea. $3 admission for a carload. There were some bargains there and some interesting stuff to look at. It was a beautiful day and we had a good time there.

After we got home, I watched some of the White Sox (done, they're done!) and Bears (suck, they suck!) games (funny thing is they both WON and I'm still disparaging them) and then worked on my bike a little bit. Ever since I got caught in a downpour about 2 months ago, squeaks keep showing up when I ride my bike. What's happened is that the rain drove the lube out of some strategic metal to metal contact points. Today I finally got brave enough to disassemble the headset and found another lubricant-starved location. Then I hit the road.

It felt good to ride again, but I don't think I had ridden in a week and it felt like it. I didn't have the lungs or legs I usually have for the climbs. Not sure if it was because I hadn't ridden lately or because I'm feeling the effects of the chemo. Then again, I have been eating like a hog since my last chemo, maybe that had something to do with it, too. I did about 22 miles and by the end, it was a little bit like I was ENDURING it instead of the usual, which would be just knocking it out. But better that I'm sitting here GLAD tonight that I did it instead of REGRETTING that I didn't.

I would say that today I felt about 75-80% of my usual self today. Still had a little bit of a headache through a lot of the day. But things do taste normal again, which is great.

I notice that the inside of my mouth is a little tender. I'd heard that could happen, because the chemo attacks cells that divide a lot and the cells in your mouth would fall in that category. Soft toothbrush, gentle flossing, and zero-alcohol mouth wash are in order.

Have a great week!

09-09-2010 2nd day after 3rd Chemo

09-09-2010 2nd day after 3rd Chemo

Hello,

Some of this I hesitate to share, but in the interest of accurately documenting my journey, I feel I should.  If you are squeamish, turn back now!
.....

.....

.....



YOU WERE WARNED, HERE GOES!

Last night Captain Constipation stopped by.

I hate that guy!

It was not pleasant, dear reader. 

I will try not to get too graphic here.  The battle raged all night and into the morning and finally about 3 AM it was all over, after the echoes of my tortured screams died out

(Editor's note: illustrations omitted)

There, I just wanted to log that, er, I mean, 'blog that.

On a less disturbing front, the hiccups showed up right on schedule yesterday.  Now it's more like a lingering heartburn.  Food is now definitely tasting different.  Even my beloved Diet Coke tastes foreign.  I have eaten like a complete pig today, I think I'm trying to taste something.

Don't know how to describe it but it seems like the hiccups / heartburn / impaired taste is all part of the same thing.  I think it's mutated into nausea as well. 

Not much energy tonight, and the detached, foggy feeling I get is worse now also.

Maybe this is where it starts to get ugly.  The cumulative effects of the chemo may be catching up with me.

I'm still functional (if you don't count that little problem last night) but not having much fun.  BUT I CAN DEAL WITH IT. 

I'm crossing my fingers that I'll bounce back strong in a day or two,when the chemo drugs taper off,  or when I come off the prednisone.

Hope you are doing well.  Thanks for checking in.  Try to cut down on your cheese intake.

Chemo III 09-07-2010

Chemo III 09-07-2010

At 9 AM sharp I walk up to the reception desk. I am called in for for my draw quickly. Nurse says that with the holiday, they are pretty busy. Draw complete and port installed, she sends me back to the waiting room. I steal a couple of ancient gearhead magazines for Chemo. They're two years old, so I don't even it's technically stealing, but if you think so, feel free to call the authorities. Anyway, it's an old trick, I'm getting pretty good at it.

Cancer, and a thief, too. How far I've fallen.

15 min later, next nurse calls me in and takes my vitals: Temp, pulse, BP all OK. Weight CLIMBING to 192.8. I knew that was going to happen, been eating like a horse and haven't been getting my road miles on my bike in like I should, for various reasons. The upside is I'll be halfway through my first regimen for Chemo and I'm gaining weight, go figure.

I tell my nurse I have NHL. Turns out her father has it also. I offer my 'blog address in case he might want to compare notes. We have a nice chat.

Dr. R. arrives, cheery as always. Last week I discovered a strange spot on my back. The history of this is that a few months ago I noticed a bloody scab (sorry to be so graphic) on my back and thought I had just scratched it... then I forgot about it. After that I was diagnosed... and I forgot all about that spot. Last week I was scratching my back and discovered this strange skin texture, next day it was a scab... I believe it's the same spot.

Upshot is he told me to call dermatology and have them take a look. He does NOT seem to be very concerned. I will call.

WHAT THE HELL ELSE will I be diagnosed with? Not to complain, but my body is wearing my ass out right now. Enough with the afflictions, already. I just want to treat my Lymphoma and be done. I don't want anything else that ends in -OMA, can I get a freakin' AMEN, brothers and sisters? Thank you! The collection plate is coming your way, please give generously.

OK, I'll stop complaining, at least until I see how this plays out. And I had just mentioned how lucky I was to be gaining weight.

Dr. R. asked how I was doing. I told him that other than a couple of recent headaches (a near-migraine Monday morning) that I was doing pretty well. Don't like prednisone but I can tolerate it.

He asks about numbness... OK, that's what I was NOT going to mention because I had some numbness in my feet a couple years ago and they couldn't figure it out. They thought it was a pinched nerve. A back Xray came out OK and we never looked past that because it went away shortly afterwards. But the last few days my left foot has had numbness / tingling. So now that he's asked, I tell him that. He says if it gets worse to let him know. I tell him I will. Asks about the sedative and I am careful to mention that I ONLY take it when I'm on the 'roids (and that's the truth, to quote Edith Ann).

He starts doing the administrative stuff on his computer, then pauses and turns to me and says, "OK, my friend, go and get your treatment". He stands up and shakes my hand with both of his, smiles, and sees me out the door.

I get such a great vibe from this guy. He always seems concerned and sincere and has a great smile that seems genuine. I guess the things that would have escaped me at 22 now really touch me at 52. Maybe because I saw my life pass before my eyes when I was first diagnosed? Maybe because I've buried a parent, an in law, siblings? Or because I have been blessed to have some terrific people that have helped my special needs kids?

Or maybe because I've simply become a soft old man?

Many of the things I just mentioned are not unique to me, they have happened to or likely WILL HAPPEN to anyone that lives long enough. It's just so nice to have such "dear hearts and gentle people" on my side and looking out for me. At 22 I never would have noticed, but at 52 I am acutely aware.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really appreciate this Dr.'s help and the special gift he has for helping people. I know it's his job, but not everyone I've encountered in this journey has had this gift (although many truly have). He has helped make a traumatic event very tolerable. I wish good things for him and his family.

While I can't know for certain this Dr.'s religion (or even if he has one), I believe he is probably Muslim. And that brings me to another point, something I read about in the news today: why (in the name of God) would you have a party to burn Qurans? I'm not saying all Muslims are like my Dr. And I'm not saying my Dr. is like all Muslims. What I AM saying is it's pretty Stupid to burn Qurans, that's all. Just as Stupid as it would be to burn Bibles or Talmuds or whatever.

To condemn an entire religion for the actions of a few doesn't make that religion look bad, it makes those burning the books look Stupid. But obviously, some people are So Stupid that can't even see that they're Stupid. There's no hope for them, they're just Stupid. And if they've entered the gene pool, we need more chlorine.

Did Lennon have the right idea? "Imagine there's no countries*It isn't hard to do*Nothing to kill or die for*And no religion, too*Imagine all the people*Living life in peace*

Dreamers? I don't think there are any dreamers left.

Here's an idea for all the religious zealots out there, no matter what God you worship: Drop your religion. You are mentally unequipped to interpret the message. How many people have been killed by other misguided morons in the name of your God? Adopt a new philosophy. All you have to remember is this: Treat others like you would like to be treated. Live by that rule and the world will be a better place, I promise. Don't pray, don't chant, don't wait for Divine Intervention, you sorry dumbasses. Just leave other people alone.

I guess a reply from the Amen chorus might seem inappropriate here.

Sorry, I got off on a rant there. I'm back now, and I feel better. But trust me, there is NO HOPE!

Chemo: Nurse Becky (WSox fan, excellent!) did a nice job taking care of me. First she gave me my levels: wbc 4.3, rbc 4.71, hemo 13.9, platelets 163, gran abs 2.7. Charts will follow soon. Everything is in range except the WBC which is barely below (it should be 4.4 to 10.4). Although wbc was low, it wasn't low enough to stop Chemo.

The Administration of Poison went smoothly, swimmingly, even snoozily (I slept a LOT). My friend Ben E.Dryl kicked my sorry ass. I rolled over sideways in the recliner and slept like a baby, in the fetal position. I had it all going except for sucking my thumb. And for good measure, after I woke up I ate everything in my chemo-bag: Two Quaker Oats Bars Of Some Sort, and an entire bag of my patented Cinna-Corn (microwave popcorn tossed with cinnamon and nutra sweet, it will take the top of your head off). Washed it down with Diet Coke.

Next time I'll pack a more wholesome lunch. Promise.

The trusty Chemo Bag:

I got done about 2:35 and headed... to the junk yard for a tail light for my Cherokee as the original had been busted in an unfortunate but very minor accident in my driveway. And since I had to drive past work to get to the scrap heap, I reported to my desk for about an hour and a half, thereby setting a personal best for working THE DAY OF Chemo. I'm so proud I could just get all puffy!


I'M HALFWAY DONE WITH THE FIRST ROUND!

On the ride home I jumped back on the Steroid Express. Then I came home and installed my tail light and had some dinner. I'm feeling a little disconnected, as usual. And a little wired. Now when I'm caught up on the 'blog, I'll drop some lorazepam and hit the hay. And no doubt I'll dream, of hiccups, of swollen ankles and swollen cheeks. You caught me, now YOU MAY SAY I'M A DREAMER!

**

A couple weeks ago I was waiting to get my levels checked when a lady walked out from the care area. I don't even know how to begin to describe her. She was probably 50-ish and absolutely had the look of death to her. There was a color, or lack of color to her that was striking. Her being and her clothes gave off the same signal: inanimate, vacant, lifeless.

Our eyes met and I am sure that mine betrayed me and flashed pity. I did my best to give a weak smile and I quickly looked away. To stare or to even look again would have robbed her of whatever dignity she had left at that point.

I was so disappointed in myself. I felt like I had a look into her soul and saw that her light was fading. And that when she looked at me, she knew exactly what I was thinking. It was the last thing I'd want to communicate to this fellow patient.

But this was an unconscious, involuntary reflex, honestly. And there was no way I could stop it.

She presented as miserable, spent, and defeated, but was doing her best to put a good face on it. I hope she was just bottoming out on her treatments and would soon be on the way back, but obviously I have no way of knowing.

My conscious reaction was that this person was losing her battle. But what really struck me more than anything was that she was ALONE. I tried to imagine what she was going through and what she was thinking, and more than anything, WHERE WERE HER PEOPLE? I thought about 'blogging it, but quite honestly it was so unsettling that I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wish I had so that I could have done the encounter justice. I feel something's been lost in my description because I waited so long to put thoughts into words.

Today in the waiting room there was an elderly woman, I would estimate her at 80 or so. She had an oxygen container and the cannula in her nose. She was sound asleep, mostly, and all alone. She had the funniest little snore going. I can't explain it but it sounded more like a machine than a human. Maybe it was the breathing apparatus making the noise, I don't know for sure. She did not look good. I made it a point not to make eye contact this time. Out of respect, no one did.

I see all these different people in the waiting room, in the chemo room, in the parking lot. All God's children. And I wonder what their stories are. Some look upbeat, like they've just hit a little bump in the road. And some look like these 2 ladies I'm talking about here, like they are nearing the end of their journey on this planet.

What is the 80-ish lady on oxygen doing here? Is she extending her life by 6 months?
Is she extending it by 10 years? If / when she's cured, will she be able to get off the oxygen? How did she get here when she can't even stay awake in the waiting room?

WHERE ARE HER PEOPLE? How sad that she faces this alone. Does she have sons/daughters/grandchildren? Well, where in the hell are they? Does she go to church? Couldn't someone from church help her out? Can't someone that she knows come to her aid? Has she hidden her cancer from everyone, for fear of burdening them?

The poor soul.

Julie and I have two special needs children. They would never be able to help us out in a similar situation. If we get sick in our old age, will our fate be to die miserable, terrified, and alone? I don't think so. But these people probably didn't think so, either.

Speaking only for myself, I think I would fix miserable. I think I could fix terrified.

Alone would be tough.