Notes from the Last Chemo

sculpture by a member of
our Buddhist Order, Nagasiddhi

(I have to confess to having spent 30 of the minutes of writing this while sitting in warmish bathwater, which is part of the Rx. Super careful about electrocution. As has been pointed out to me more than once, dying in a stupid way at this point or possibly any would be...unfortunate.)

Julie and I went to chemo today at 8am. We had some excellent very fancy cheeses Rochelle had brought for me and some fresh pineapple Julie brought. We covered the floor with crumbs, while watching a couple of episodes of "I Love Lucy" (and a very interesting cigarette commercial featuring a cartoon Lucy and Desi from the '50s.)

I've had a private room every time I've been there which has been awesome. My oncology nurse David said I lucked out that there weren't new patients during the times I was scheduled. I should have gotten a picture of David who has been both super competent and entertaining. Found out he is fond of toffee, really should have brought him a prezzy, thought that yesterday with the radiation folks as well...

The formerly illusive Dr Tavakoli dropped by. He was meant to be my main doctor but disappeared for a month right after I met with him for the first time. There was mystery around what happened - he did not tell anyone - well not David anyway, and the radiation oncologist Dr Patel. He seemed to have lost some weight and he seemed a little sad, I felt sorry for him. I noticed a very slight interesting accent which I did not detect when I met him before. I'd like to know his story, where he comes from...but I suppose will not ask. He is my main doc moving forward. Once I get my HDR (High-dose rate brachytherapy) next week, I will make an appointment for a CT scan and one with him the day after to talk about it. This can be a couple of weeks after...so say mid-March.

This brings up the whole area that I have thus far with little effort successfully avoided: speculation about what is going to happen. It is clear that for all kinds of reasons my life will [continue to] be drastically different from how it was a few months ago. And even though I've been incredibly low energy, I am antsy to...do (non-cancer related) things. Will I live in San Francisco? Will more treatment be proposed and if so, will I do it? When I stop working for the Center (I was laid off - given 6 months' notice - shortly before I got my diagnosis) will I get a regular job? What kind? Will I move in with someone in my family?? Will the tumor be completely gone? What about the other 'local metastases'? I do know that even if the tumor is gone and the eventual PET scan shows all clear, it doesn't mean I'm done with it. Five years.

I 'graduated' EBRT radiation on Mardis Gras.
Sadly I didn't get a chemo certificate on Ash Wednesday,
(just some info on what kind of candy the nurse likes!)

Anyway, Julie and I had lunch at Udupi Palace and I splashed out with a mango lassi which I drank in about 1 minute. Balanced by really good unspicy creamy tomato soup. Liquid - yes. Blenders are my friend.

My walk date was canceled which was blissful, slept very deeply for a couple of hours. Also watched What's Eating Gilbert Grape? which I enjoyed (again.)

Rochelle brought by more excellent snackage with a "Weekly Treat" chart for me to fill out things I like etc! She said my illness has brought out the Jewish mother in her which she didn't know she had: wanting to bring me food. Lucky for me!...Pasadini made some nice simple borscht-like soup and we watched this crap documentary "2012 an awakening" which we both enjoyed.

I took my first Cipro this afternoon (due to not being able to eat dairy at the same time) for my urinary tract infection. Since I saw Misha the pain is not as bad and there is no blood. I'm learning all the things that help with the different kinds of pain...also need to have the energy to do it, and remember all the stuff to do, and when to make sure I have the stuff with me. I haven't taken much of the vicodin at all, I haven't mostly felt I've really needed it. I'm kind of a minimalist when it comes to taking medication I think. Definitely as needed, not so into the 'just in case'. My inner thigh skin however is dark red and blistered.I'm tempted to post a photo...but apparently my cancer blog self disclosure has its limits.  Certainly in some places anyway I look like I'm about 5,000 years old. Or let's not exaggerate and say 500 years max.