Friday, November 30, 2018

DAY 051 -- "The Earth Moved Its Moon To Mars"

Yes, we’re way off chronology here, but let’s forget about the numbers and sequence. Today is the fifty-first day of my recorded reportage. That’s all we need to know.

The more I travel along with cancer and treatment, the less important it is to have all my ducks in an ordered row (see Day Forty-Seven). Now, if they want to swim in crazy semi-circles out of sync, have at it. And, if they want, they can let in some geese for comic relief.

Ever recklessly optimistic, Diane and I also bought an elliptical machine on the oncologist’s advice: “low-impact, good upper and lower body, easy to pace, moderate.” He was right. Plus, I’ve come to be a friend of my body marking time and my mind moving with or without me.

I’m also playing more piano, returning to my muscle memories of old, sight-reading, even being bold enough to post a few videos. If the world conspires against it, I’m relaxing, having fun and abusing my rank amateur status.
Today, a return for a follow-up CT scan of my tumor. Today, we see if it’s better, worse or unchanged. Since the end of Rad Chemo, it’s been immunotherapy every other week. Six down, twenty to go.

Immunotherapy. All the logistics of chemotherapy without the balding, barfing and bruising. Yes, there’s a new and always evolving side effect list now, but with more annoyances than toxic disruptions.

Still comes the daily fatigue, sometimes predictably, giving me enough warning to prep for it: pull off the road, pull up a couch, stop a boring conversation. Other times, it’s just upon me: one minute ta-da!, the next a suddenly-sedated Gumby.

I’ve learned to effectively deal with it without hurting myself or anyone else. Then, there’s that list:

Shortness of breath
R-sided abdominal pain
Ankles, feet and hands swelling
Twitchy lower limbs
Fingers cramping/locking up
Fuzzy hamburger slippers (sorry, just checking to see if we’re all still sitting up straight in class)

I haven’t spoken to my docs about the above, but I will at my next treatment … along with today’s scan results.

Today, arriving home after the scan, I’m okay with this. I and my ducks and geese have learned how to wait.

Maybe the doc hasn’t called me because the results are inconclusive.

Maybe they’re awful.

Maybe he hasn’t reviewed them yet.

Maybe the earth moved its moon to Mars.

You’ll know when I know.

Oh, and one added attraction tonight: Creamy Vanilla Smoothie Readi-CAT 2 Barium Sulfate Oral Suspension contrast medium makes you (me) shit like a shark.

More as we go, El

Most popular posts (so far)