Diagnosis +68, Post-treatment Day 3

Although apparently there is some dispute about the veracity of the claim, it is said that the Eskimos have 50 different words for snow.  This is, in theory, because of the Eskimo's intimate familiarity with snow.

In keeping with this motif, I introduce to you, a number of new terms for ass pain:

Fire Ants
Pine Cone
The Worm
Bludgeon
Blade of Fire
Roadrash

Thank God there aren't 50 different terms.  However, note that these terms can be (and often are) combined.  Thus, you might encounter "The Pine Cone Worm" (one of my least favorites), or more commonly "Fire Ants & Bludgeon."

Enjoy the mental images!

Diagnosis +67, Post-Treatment Day 2

Been awhile since I've blogged.  I haven't had too much to say - the days have been a pretty continuous stream of the same sort of thing - basically dreading each visit to the Chamber of Horrors.  I've finished the full course of pre-op chemo and radiation therapy.  So today should be the worst day in terms of pain.  Usually, after a weekend off from radiation, I start to feel better on Tuesday before the new radiation makes things worse again.  But now that I'm done, I'm hoping that I see improvement on Tuesday and that things get better.  Hopefully within a week I'll be able to go to work again, but frankly, right now I'd just like to be able to visit the bathroom without screaming.

I thought I was pretty good at handling pain, but that's because I'd never felt real physical pain.  I'd like to meet a woman who has experienced labor and the same cancer treatments that I have, so that she could compare the two.  Because I've got to imagine that labor feels a lot like what I've been experiencing.  Except that labor lasts a lot longer, but is over more quickly (that actually makes sense, although it doesn't seem to).

I've made a concerted effort to regard the pain as union with Christ's sufferings - I can't say I have had any spiritual awakenings.  I tried very hard to view each visit to the Chamber as a soteriological opportunity rather than something to be afraid of.  But I can't do that.  I dread each recurrence and will put off each attack as long as I can.

I'm a hell of whiner!   Poor Elizabeth has to put up with my moaning and whimpering, as well as the constant stream of whining that comes from our children.  The woman needs a break!!!

Well, in more important news, the University of Dayton is in the Sweet 16.  Woohoo!  Go Flyers!  It's great to see them burning couches again in Ohio.  I have mixed memories of the 1990 NCAA run when I was at UD.  Mostly I remember the aftermath of the ghetto riots.  I bet I can blame my cancer on inhaling the fumes of burning tires.  Or were the burning tires at St. Patrick's day?  I can't remember.

Now my faithful readers reader, I promise to get to work on Part V through VIII of "There's a Mass Up My Ass."  I know that you're desperately waiting for the conclusion to my epic poem.  It's on the way, I promise...

Diagnosis +56, Treatment Day 21

Today was "Cowboy Day" at radiation therapy.  Elizabeth talked me out of the yellow bandana, but the cowboy hat, boots & jeans made their appearance.  The Radiation Therapists were treated to Sasperilla Soda, Pork Rinds, and the infamous "Roy Rogers" joke - in abbreviated form.

Yesterday was excellent.  For whatever reason, I felt really good yesterday, up until about 8 or 9pm.  I ended up being awake most of the night.  I was still up at 5am when Evelyn woke up, so at least I spared Elizabeth having to get up with the baby.  I went to sleep around 6:30 this morning and slept until about 10am.

Today was not so much fun.   Yesterday's reprieve was washed away today in The Chamber of Horrors.  Some side effects of the radiation are not as bad, but others continue to get worse.  I've got eight more days of radiation, and I've been promised that the two weeks afterward are going to be pretty uncomfortable.  

I ventured out with Elizabeth to the grocery store today.  I made it about 30 minutes in before I was completely drained - no energy at all, feet aching.  That stayed with me most of the evening.  Since they've upped the chemo dose, the queasy/sick feeling has increased as well.

But of course, here it is almost midnight and I'm wide awake.  Going to watch some more Office episodes until I fall asleep.

Anyway, time to man-up and pull it together.  I've got a board meeting tomorrow AM, so it'll be a real test of endurance to drive out to Oak Ridge and hopefully sit upright for 2-3 hours.

Recycled Poem

Here's a poem I published on another blog a long time ago (2006).  Seems appropriate, and it also allows me to recycle old creative work...

Early Fall, On A Winding Road

While driving on a winding road
I saw a wondrous tree
That may have seemed a joy to you
But seemed not so to me

Where one might see its scarlet flush
In a tower of autumn pride
I beheld its tumorous form
And the threat of life denied

And though its strength might show itself
To some less jaded eyes
For me its copper glory
Its cancerous heart belies

Diagnosis +52

Today I thought I would share with you an image of what it's like to utilize the restroom, or as I call it, the "Chamber of Horrors."

This put me immediately in mind of Pink Floyd, which involves another appropriate image:

And of course, this couples to my realization that my recent life story is just an echo of South Park's Terrance & Philip:

Diagnosis +50, Treatment Day 17

Well... this sucks.  Only had about 3 good hours today.

Yesterday I had an 8:30 meeting for work.  It was also Isabelle's day at preschool.  So I buckled her into the car seat and headed out for Oak Ridge.  I made it about 3/4 of the way there before I started to get uncomfortable, and by the time I dropped Isabelle off at school I felt awful.

Went to my meeting & informed them that I was going to be out of commission for a few weeks - they thought it was better to slow down our working group formation until I was able to devote full energy to it, which I suppose was inevitable but it's another disappointment.

By the time I got to the office around 9:15 I was out of gas.  I signed a few forms, transferred some money around, and then had to get out of the office and back home where I can lie down.

The rest of the day yesterday (except for the trip to radiation) was spent lying around or sitting in a bath.  The psychological impact of suddenly being rendered useless is leaving me rather morose.

On a positive note, the radiation therapists appreciated both yesterday's "Red Shirt Pirate Joke" and today's joke about the teacher who asks her class to go home and ask their parents for a story with a moral.   They also appreciated the Krispy Kreme donuts.

On an even more positive note, Elizabeth made some awesome lamb chops for dinner with some sort of crazy balsamic reduction.  Mmmmm mmmmm!  Elena watched Isabelle & Evelyn while Elizabeth and Jackson went to Cub Scouts, so to that extent life goes on.

I'm hoping I can make it to work tomorrow.  I think if I get up around 6am, I should be able to get "settled" enough to be in reasonably good condition for the drive to Oak Ridge.  I've GOT to put some time in at the office, and Isabelle needs to go to preschool.  Not sure how many hours I'll be able to work, but I can make a go of it and I refused to be reduced completely to a sad lump of cancerous flesh.

Sad Lump of Cancerous Flesh would be an awesome name for a rock band.

Oh yeah, on Tuesday I was proscribed TWO NEW OINTMENTS!  Now, between the ointments for my hands & feet (to prevent one of the nastier side effects of chemo) there are various ointments for the external tissue that is being irradiated.  So this prompts the question: is there really a difference between a balm, an ointment, a salve, and a cream?  And what about a cobbler and a pie?

Jackson wrote a great song the other day (while I was trying to explain to the kids how to play Dungeons & Dragons):

What's a geek, what's a nerd?
What's a geek, what's a nerd?
What's a geek, what's a nerd?
They're the same thing
(repeats)

That boy is talented!

Uh oh... there's that rumbling in my guts that tells me it's going to be agony time in about 2 minutes.  Oh well... signing off...

Diagnosis +47, Treatment Day 14

Most of what I could potentially write about recently is unpleasant and embarrassing, so I haven't written about it.  Chemo hasn't been bad.  But the radiation therapy is causing the tissue around the tumor to be swollen and sore, and the consequences of that have been both painful and have made life logistically more difficult.  A repercussion of this has been that I've had a harder time sleeping or have been waking up in the middle of the night, which has meant sleeping later in the morning, which has resulted in more complications (getting to work, getting Isabelle to preschool, etc.).

This past weekend was particularly bad.  Fortunately, Saturday night was a brief respite, which allowed me to go to the Mardi Gras celebration with Elizabeth.  This is the 6th anniversary of when I tricked her into going on a date with me.  While I wasn't drinking (and thus wasn't great company), and I was nervous about what I was eating (given the discussion above), it was wonderful to see Elizabeth get a chance to unwind.  She had a great time getting all fancied-up, dancing & hanging out with friends and not talking about cancer at all.

Sunday I made the momentous decision to go to Taco Bell for lunch.  Call it hubris or bravado, tempting fate, or laughing in the face of overwhelming odds.  Or call it a mistake.  In any case, Sunday evening could have been a lot better.  I think I got to sleep around 5:30 am, just when Elizabeth's alarm started going off.  When I woke up later in the day, the kids were home from school (due to ice), Elizabeth's mom was there watching them so that she could go into work, and I was, of course,  going to be late for work.

Which wasn't going to happen anyway.  I spent a good portion of Monday soaking in a warm bath.  Some of the softer and more sensitive parts of your body (ahem) just can't stand up to this level of punishment.  Monday's radiation therapy was somewhat dull since I was in some serious discomfort and thus was not my usual jovial self.  I've got to get my mojo back.

It's 1:45am on Tuesday morning.  Plenty of news events to distract me, a good book I'm trying to finish, lots of episodes of The Office to keep me company.  A warm house, cold bottled water, lots of Orbit sweet-mint gum, close proximity to a bathroom and bathtub.  Kids & wife sleeping peacefully upstairs.  What more could a man ask for?

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.  Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.

Diagnosis +45

Tired.  Hands covered with smelly lotion.  Achy feet.  Weight gain.  Lack of concentration.  Moody.

I must be pregnant.