Better Days Are on Their Way

Quick recap: After getting radiation Thursday morning, I visited Dr. El-Khoury who suggested I spend the day in the chemo room taking in various fluids through an IV. As I laid in bed, I promptly threw up bile for Diane and good nurse Deb. I got a little weepy as I said, "I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry that you have to see this." I didn't move again out of bed until 4 p.m.

Diane conferred with the nutritionist in Iowa about some new and different ways for me to get my "product" and ward off the nausea and vomitting. I'm on a new type which is supposed to be more digestible. Also it was suggested that I now use an electric pump that allows very small drops of product through PEG at a very slow rate. The nutritionist, social worker, home health provider (in Macomb) and Macomb Medical Supply all worked in tandem to make this possible. Diane does not have to call and make the arrangements. They are helpers par excellence.

I still felt horrible and on the verge of vomiting while in the chemo room so Dr. El-Khoury and Diane decided it was best for all of us that I stay in Great River Medical Center's hospital for observation. I could see the relief in Diane's face. By 6 p.m. I was in a room, medicines administered through PEG and IVs, and lights out. Diane left and stayed with David and Gretchen Miller.

Friday morning I checked out at 10 and had my 27th radiation blast out of the 35 needed. Homeward bound! Since arriving back to 35 Indian Trail, I barely leave the house--heck I barely leave my room. My mouth is on FIRE 24 hours a day. Oh, I just wish it would go away. This is my biggest challenge so far. This is Diane's biggest challenge so far.

Florence Nightingale: I cannot imagine enduring this odyssey without some sort of life partner. I am so blessed to have Diane nurse me through these trying times. I am about as helpless as I have ever been in my 64 years. She remains stoic, knows I need my space, as I know she needs hers, but when push comes to shove, she is always there for me. You almost have to wonder if all those fantastic experiences we've shared before in life were merely a prelude to this test of love and devotion. It's 10:40 a.m. on Sunday and you guessed it, I'm going back to bed.

The electric pump is working from noon to 3 p.m. each day. Then I take a little break followed by the 12-hour drip starting at 6 p.m. It seems to be working. My morphine patch is now doubled in strength and Dr. El-Khoury added Lorazepam liquid concentrate every 6 hours.

We are in the home stretch. I may or may not have chemo on Friday; this will be decided at Thursday's appointment with Dr. El. I will end my radiation treatments possibly on June 10th give a day or two.

Oh I forgot to mention one little detail: I can no longer talk. I whisper a little and try to talk a bit to Diane but basically, no more talking. Do I hear any laughter out there? Gordy Taylor who received bad marks in school from a teacher who said "Gordy does too much talky talky."

Have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend and remember those who gave their lives so that we may enjoy the freedoms of our lives. Oh and of course, GO BLACKHAWKS!!!