Chemo Recovery Week …

To quote the immortal Jerry Garcia, “…what a loooong strange trip it’s been.” I’m sure his line, like my week, was a bit chemically induced (OK more than a bit for both the line & the week). I’m also sure that Jerry’s "side effects" were more sought after than mine!

This week should probably be named the “I-Feel-Like-Kaka; I-Desire-Food-Like-Kaka; My-Mouth-Hurts-Like Kaka; Water-Tastes-Like-Kaka; Why-Doesn’t-This-Kaka-Just-Go-Away” Week (by the way, “Kaka” is another name for poop for all the non-parents out there). This may all sound like potty humor, but I assure you that there was nothing comical about the potty this week. So, as the formal name for it is long, so was the week, as is this blog entry too. So brace yourselves!

OK here goes:

Part 1. “Mission Accomplished”
OK, bear with me on this analogy if I misstate some of the historical facts. Picture if you will George W. Bush on the USS ENTERPRISE aircraft carrier after Sadam was ousted, looking rather smug with a large sign in the background declaring Mission Accomplished. "W" proclaims that the US force has saved the Iraqis in something less than 100 days, and now all is right with the world. Well I feel that I made the same gaff in my last post by even suggesting that the 1st round of chemo was complete when I thought it was! I deserve a very big "UM...DUH" after that! To all those that have received chemo, my apologies for my arrogance. I now have a new found admiration and respect for those that have done this before me (some I went thru with as a “care giver,” others I know individually, and those that I am not aware of). The 1st round of chemo only proved that the "prizefight" was not anywhere near over when Ethel left me. Ethel proved to be a bit vindictive in her absence, and it has taken until yesterday morning to even want to look at food, get out the fetal position, and feel even semi-human again.

Part 2. "The Recovery Week"

So I had spent the weekend at my sister's house with her, her hubby, her 3 wonderful kids, her huge Rhodesian Ridgeback, and my most benevolent mom (to be known as the Saving Crew). They had babied, nursed, fed, and cared for me all weekend and I thought I had it from there, so home I went. Lori came over Sunday evening and fed me, bought me some supplies and helped me feel even more human. So I was feeling pretty confident that Monday would go relatively well.

Monday arrived and getting out of bed proved to be a bit difficult. I did get up, but a bit late. I went to the kitchen with my Ethel induced hangover and force fed myself some food and water (get the feeling this is like prison at this point?!?). Well, I essentially stayed on the couch the entire day. However there was a high point. Amy brought the kids by for a visit. They stuck with me for a couple of hours and I really enjoyed it. We just plain hung with each other, joking, talking, goofing, and all the almost normal things we do. I was supposed to get my blood work tested on Monday, but after the kids left I was a bit low on energy. So it was to wait until Tuesday morn. To bed I went!

Tuesday I awoke with all sorts of vim and vigor. Feeling as good as "OK" I decided that this was my Carpe Diem day for the week. I rolled (well kind of rolled) down the stairs after one of those great showers that invigorate you (kind like an Irish Spring soap commercial). I ate, drank fluids, packed some food for later and off to "blood work" at Kaiser I went. This is where I met the newest med tech that Kaiser had on staff. We'll name her Lucy (notice a theme), There for only 2 days I believe that I may have been the 2nd or 3rd costumer on her resume. Lucy was being trained, and she wasn't very confident in her protocol: forgot to put on her gloves, provided a loose tourniquet, and fumbled with much of the equipment. I looked at her trainer with my best "are you sure you want to put me through this?" look, but we were all in this together, so I bucked up and decided to help in Lucy's training. As the needle came closer I started to have second thoughts (another "DUH" moment), and looked away awaiting the inevitable failure to find the vein, the eventual working of the needle, the possible re-stick and the inevitable repeat of the process until the trainer would finally take pity after seeing me wince for the 3,457,362-nd time. Well, before I knew it, Lucy had actually done the deed and was drawing blood with nary a wince on my part. Lucy was able to draw blood from me with absolutely no pain felt by yours truly. What luck, life is good! After professing my bravos to Lucy, she looked at me in a shocked manner as if her accomplishment even surprised her, and I was again on my way. Off to the Office I was heading, still feeling full of vim & vigor even after the Lucy-stress had been heaped upon my psyche. However, after the good & painless fortune of the experience I felt nothing could stop me now.

Upstairs from the lab I ran into an old friend Maria and 2 of her 4 step daughters (I mention the numbers because the 2 daughters I saw are part of a set of triplets and were elem school classmates of my son). We caught up for a while and Maria offered herself as a resource in my cancer adventure with the idea of calling her at the drop of a hat at any time if I need help. I'll say it again, I am truly blessed and lucky! After our goodbyes, off to the office I went. I spent a couple of somewhat productive hours there, but I could feel the energy dwindling. Thus, to home I went.

The rest of the afternoon was spent face down over the toilet bowl, cussing, pissed off, and spewing stuff. Then came the call from my saving angel, my sister Christy. After about 2 seconds we agreed that I was to head to her house. Outside in the heat again, I loaded some provisions in the car and drove out there. (A quick acknowledgement to my next door neighbor Reggie who offered to drop everything and drive me. In hindsight it probably would have been smarter to take him up on it. Have I mentioned that I'm stubborn?). I spent the rest of Tuesday in a fetal position on Christy's couch, however happy to have the love of the Saving Crew around me again.

Then came Wednesday... more fetal position, food a necessity but definitely not a desire, water tasting funny, smells killing me, and ... well let's just say Kaka and leave it at that! The Saving Crew kept an eye on me all day, while I was looking vindictively back at the world. Then, Weds evening occurred. As my mom was saying good-bye for the night, she shook my hand and her mother instincts kicked into high gear. She single handedly (literally) determined that I had a fever (another dread for chemo patients in general). It was 102.3 on the thermometer. We verified it with another thermometer just to quell my arguing against the reading. The Saving Crew was very patient with me! They were also determined to make sure that I was taken care of appropriately. After calls to Kaiser, then another round of cussing at the toilet while spewing, Christy and I were off to Kensington Kaiser at 2100 (that's 9:00 PM for you non-military types). My temperature reduced mystically to 100.9 on the drive, but it seems that my white blood cell levels were below the safe threshold. So off to the hospital ER I was sent. Christy & I got there at midnight. For some reason my temperature dropped back to normal between Kaiser and the ER without any assistance from Tylenol or the like. So, more blood drawings, a chest X-ray, and a feeble attempt at a urine sample (TMI?) from a very parched patient. Christy stuck with me until 0300 (3:00 AM for non-militaries), but since it was determined that I was to be admitted for a few days, we agree that she should head home to try to get some sleep (Have I said that Christy is my angel/hero/greatest support?!?). I spent the rest of the night with nurse Bob trying to coerce a urine sample from me. This was fine except that I had not had anything to drink since around dinner time (a small glass of flat Ginger Ale at that), thus none was forthcoming. Not to add any pressure, or to threaten, but Bob's response to my numerous failed attempts was to suggest that he may need to provide a catheter to assist in acquiring his coveted sample. My response was dry, but firmly stated "Uh....no!" I never did satisfy his quest to fill Bob's hallowed cup! Having avoided the catheter, I look back at this as a victory, albeit a small one, on my part. Sometimes a guy has to take what he can get!

Thursday morning at 0600 (6:00 AM!) found me wheeling through the Holy Hilton Halls (actually known as Holy Cross Hospital) at breakneck speeds lying flat on my back on a gurney from the ER to my luxury room in the sky (a single on the 6th floor, the Chemo ward). The skill of my driver was admirable as we moved quickly with nary an accident. I met Edith the nurse, a very nice woman that I got to know for, well an hour and I never saw her again. Then at 0700 (oh enough already if greater than 1200 then subtract 12!) I met my own "Florence Nightingale" Nurse Joan who took care of me during days (she's fantastic at her job and very nice). Basically I spent Thursday lying in bed receiving electrolytes and antibiotics intravenously, having blood drawn, getting my vitals taken, providing a coveted urine sample, swallowing barium for another CT scan, getting the CT scan, ordering and trying to eat food (eating most of it), and getting visitors and talking on the phone. A pretty full day, I slept pretty well that night.

Friday brought more good news (no ... it really was really this time), I was to be released a day earlier than expected. The release time of that evening was caveatted that no infection would show up in my last blood samples and that I had to get a final shot before I go (man I really hate shots) and they could call me back after the release. So while waiting for the warden to throw open the gates, my day was very similar to the day before, but you can substitute the CT stuff with reading and sitting in a chair by the window. What a luxurious life of leisure. I was finally enjoying life with my every need cared for, my appetite returning (well at least food was starting to taste ... OK), and my other ailments seemingly improving, and then they decide to throw me out. I shouldn't write this but I actually would have like another day at the Holy Hilton. Oh well, home and feeling much improved is also a wonderful place to be! Thanks to the Saving Crew for picking me up!

So here I am, at home again, enjoying my time, wearing my new blogging hat (another blog entry-to-be), wearing my Life is Good t-shirt with the soccer player doing a bicycle kick on it, listening to some really good music, writing (!), eating, drinking juice, talking to folks on the phone, receiving the generosity of a neighbor/friend who went to get me some whole milk, and washing my hands a lot. Things are not Kaka....today. Well I'm off to get a couple prescriptions filled.



Thanks to my Holy Hilton visitors for the moral boost (E-man, Terry; Lori; Mom; Christy; Susan, Joe, Hanna (one of my star players on the greatest 3rd & 4th grade soccer team in the world), & Michael). Thanks to Thom & Patty & family for watching my house whilst I was away. Thanks to Julie for the milk run upon my return. And a special thanks to two of the greatest nurses going; Joan & Sylvie who helped me through a transition from Kaka to actually looking forward to a meal and feeling a little better than OK.