Now what?

Doxil is no longer working so after yesterday's CT scan waiting to learn what new exquisite torture the doctors have in mind for me.  While it is a relief to no long worry about my skin, eating hot and spicy foods, drinking hot liquids (yes cappuccino you can come back to my life) black toe and finger nails etc, who knows what knew side effects I will have to manage in addition to the usual fatigue, nausea, headaches and so much more.  Oh joy.

the early bird special

It has been a long, not hot, summer.  A few weeks extra off chemo, trying to straighten out my colon, get off all the stool softeners, blood pressure drugs and try to feel human after the long cold depressing winter.  On the rare occasions that I get out of the house for a non-medical reason and try to go for a civilized meal I feel rather like a senior citizen in Florida going out for the early bird special at 5 pm, to eat half a meal and bring home leftovers to eat the following day.  I don't have the energy to go out at 7, instead I might be asleep by then.  Not that I ever feel rested but I can fall asleep then, as the battle continues.  Maybe it is a war?

every ache and pain

Every day is a new ache or pain.  Is it real?  Is it more mental than physical?  Does it mean anything? Do I tell the doctor?  At what point does it become real, meaningful, worth asking about?  It is all part of the vast unknown of cancer.  Instead I just wait every day, to see if it goes away (which it usually does).  And wait some more, and more.  Until science develops enough to keep me alive longer.

Lazy recycling

Since I was able 11 I have been involved in rabid crazy recycling, trying to keep everything we could out of the trash, from wine bottles (we had some kit to turn them into classes) to newspaper drives so we could raise money for the gymnastics team, clothes, plastic, to not using plastic bags and so on.  But the energy drain of cancer has meant that I've lost my focus and now use plastic water bottles which I never used before, to actually sometimes throwing them in the trash rather than recycling.  The guilt is not a good feeling, but the exhaustion is worse, thus more trash and less recycling.

Plug me in

Like a car.  Plug me in to the computer, run the program including blood, and spit out the conclusion, everything that's wrong and the recommended cures.  So much easier that waiting for the results for days, so they can determine we need more tests and even more.  To get ground down by the medical environment and stress or more tests, and a nominal understanding of how to fix programs.  Ah for the day science catches up.

medical tourism

Never thought I would become a medical tourist unless there was some fabulous treatment in Europe that the FDA was too slow to approve.  Instead, my oncologist is moving to Florida to run a wonderful research program and teach.  Boo hop.  Although good for the medical community and cancer research.  Bad for me.  Although I will continue my treatments here, with a supervising oncologist, I will be changing medical plans in November when I qualify for medicare and can travel to Florida to visit and get a checkup twice a year.  Not my favorite place but there are worse places to go, especially in the winter after the one we just had.

ah a summer-like day

The leaves have filled in on the trees, the deer are munching through the weeds and edibles in our woods.  I can breath a sigh of relief that I survived another winter and approach the end of my second year with cancer.  Despite winter depression, I did not add anti-depressants to my repertoire.  I may at some point in the future, but I kept thinking it would all be better if the sun would shine and I could wear sandals to let my feel breath and not worry so much about doxil hand and foot syndrome.  It is hard to believe I have made it through two years and feeling positive about making it to the median for stage 3c of 31 months.  Another step forward.