When the weather is fine and it also happens to be summer, I can hear Sly and the Family Stone playing "Hot Fun in the Summertime" in my head. Like comfort food it's comfort music and it harkens back to an earlier time when worries where few and summer seemed to last forever.
I've noticed remarkable improvement in my general health and well being over the course of this week. My sense of taste has returned; the numbness in my finger and thumb is rapidly dissipating; I've been playing the guitar and returned to singing; I have energy; I've returned to doing my daily exercises; I'm watching less TV and I'm doing mini-projects around the house. In addition, the weather makes it much easier to do things.
I'm still bothered by various aches, pains and the lingering side effects of the chemo. [Chemo brain is real]. I'm optimistic that these too will begin to dissipate. I also have a heightened sense of awareness to any new side effects that Tamoxifen MAY bring. Some of the early side effects have either calmed down or I'm getting used to them. It's still early as Tamoxifen will also be cumulative like the chemo (unfortunately). I've never heard back from the doctor's office about my vision changes, but I'm satisfied that the eye doctor will have first dibs in determining if it's an age thing or something else.
I did get news for my reconstructive surgery. Pending insurance approval (and hopefully not a problem), I'm scheduled for my pre-op mid October and my first of two surgeries mid November. My immediate concern is the impending season of white stuff and my abilities to deal with it given stitches and recovery. Both the Farmer's Almanac and the Old Farmer's Almanac have told New Englanders to 'give up and die'. But it is what it is. However, I may just break down and buy a snowblower this year to ensure that we have no white stuff. Now I'll have to consider how I'll tackle keeping the roof free of the eight foot iceberg (like last year).
I hope everyone enjoys the last vestiges of "Them Summer Days"!
More to come. Thanks for reading.
Friday, August 28, 2015
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Follow-up with Dr. Chatson and Tamoxifen update
Visited with Dr. Chatson today to discuss the next steps for my reconstructive/reduction surgeries.
The waiting room was pretty full and as a result, I had to wait a half hour before getting to see Dr. Chatson. Finally being called, I had two two professionals working in tandem, to take my vitals. Then I waited for the doctor to join me.
Dr Chatson came in and wasted no time. Asking me to remove my shirt he closely inspected the surgical area and related scars. He asked me to step in front of the mirror so he could discuss his thoughts/findings as he directed my attention to the corresponding parts of my body.
He said that the scar was still very tight. It had relaxed somewhat since our last visit, so he thought that over time it would continue to relax. Dr. Chatson did say that due to my current state (of body healing), he would have to rethink his approach. Apparently because the surgical area was 'opened' two times, there is considerable scarring tissue that is tight and causing a concavity. He thought that a fat graft/liposuction approach first discussed may not work this time. Because of the tight scarring, the end result of that approach would still have a considerable degree of concavity.
He paused and said, "I may have a better approach." He asked me to wait while he left the room. Upon his return he had his book of before and after pictures of other (anonymous - no face) patients. He turned to the back and said,"Here's someone with a similar situation".
So the tentative plan now is to wait a few months (some time in November) and approach this in two phases.
At the highest level:
Phase 1 - reduction and liposuction of my left (good) breast and initial liposuction of certain areas of the surgical area. Some of my own fat (near my waistline) will be taken to replace and remold. He will need to reopen the surgical site to remove some scarring and insert some (he called hard fat) to relieve the concavity.
Phase 2 - after recovery and healing, he will take a skin graft from the other side of my abdomen to create a new nipple.
He cautioned me that when all was said and done I may still have some concavity, but it's too soon to tell. [It can't be worse that now.]
Because this is a change to the approach, he needed to write up a new case for the insurance company. He didn't believe there would be a problem, but thought that the November time frame was realistic. He said he would notify me when the surgery is scheduled and when I would need to arrive for pre-op.
Sounds like a plan. So now I wait.
Tamoxifen update
I'm on my third day of Tamoxifen. With the host of possible side effects this medication MAY cause, Dr. Mehta told me to notify him immediately for a certain few. One being change in vision.
Change in vision is very broad, so one might be willing to accept little things that may have happened in the past as being 'normal'. For instance, if some dust gets in your eye and you instinctively rub it, your eye may tear a bit. This could be a 'change in vision' but one would argue it was caused by my rubbing and not the affect of Tamoxifen.
To keep cool and comfy, I have been sitting in front of a fan. I know that from time to time one eye may get too much of a breeze and I feel like 'dry eye'. I thought little of that in the past, but my heightened sense of change now triggers an alarm. I had noticed yesterday that the vision in my right eye seemed 'not as clear'. With both eyes, I had no problem seeing or reading, but I did have the sensation of having my 'lens' smudged. Last evening while watching TV, I closed my left eye and my right eye was significantly blurry. Hmmm Hoping a night's sleep would take care of things, I waited until today.
I'm having the same symptoms today. I did make an appointment with the eye doctor. It's possible that after 62 years I need glasses. But panic set in and I was looking up possible causes - cataract? To be safe and the coincidence of this onset with my beginning to take Tamoxifen, I did call Dr. Mehta's office and reported this.
As this writing I've not heard back from either the eye doctor or my oncologist.
Yes, it truly is - 'always something'. More to come.
[Post Script: Eye doctor's office called me back for an appointment for early next week.]
The waiting room was pretty full and as a result, I had to wait a half hour before getting to see Dr. Chatson. Finally being called, I had two two professionals working in tandem, to take my vitals. Then I waited for the doctor to join me.
Dr Chatson came in and wasted no time. Asking me to remove my shirt he closely inspected the surgical area and related scars. He asked me to step in front of the mirror so he could discuss his thoughts/findings as he directed my attention to the corresponding parts of my body.
He said that the scar was still very tight. It had relaxed somewhat since our last visit, so he thought that over time it would continue to relax. Dr. Chatson did say that due to my current state (of body healing), he would have to rethink his approach. Apparently because the surgical area was 'opened' two times, there is considerable scarring tissue that is tight and causing a concavity. He thought that a fat graft/liposuction approach first discussed may not work this time. Because of the tight scarring, the end result of that approach would still have a considerable degree of concavity.
He paused and said, "I may have a better approach." He asked me to wait while he left the room. Upon his return he had his book of before and after pictures of other (anonymous - no face) patients. He turned to the back and said,"Here's someone with a similar situation".
So the tentative plan now is to wait a few months (some time in November) and approach this in two phases.
At the highest level:
Phase 1 - reduction and liposuction of my left (good) breast and initial liposuction of certain areas of the surgical area. Some of my own fat (near my waistline) will be taken to replace and remold. He will need to reopen the surgical site to remove some scarring and insert some (he called hard fat) to relieve the concavity.
Phase 2 - after recovery and healing, he will take a skin graft from the other side of my abdomen to create a new nipple.
He cautioned me that when all was said and done I may still have some concavity, but it's too soon to tell. [It can't be worse that now.]
Because this is a change to the approach, he needed to write up a new case for the insurance company. He didn't believe there would be a problem, but thought that the November time frame was realistic. He said he would notify me when the surgery is scheduled and when I would need to arrive for pre-op.
Sounds like a plan. So now I wait.
Tamoxifen update
I'm on my third day of Tamoxifen. With the host of possible side effects this medication MAY cause, Dr. Mehta told me to notify him immediately for a certain few. One being change in vision.
Change in vision is very broad, so one might be willing to accept little things that may have happened in the past as being 'normal'. For instance, if some dust gets in your eye and you instinctively rub it, your eye may tear a bit. This could be a 'change in vision' but one would argue it was caused by my rubbing and not the affect of Tamoxifen.
To keep cool and comfy, I have been sitting in front of a fan. I know that from time to time one eye may get too much of a breeze and I feel like 'dry eye'. I thought little of that in the past, but my heightened sense of change now triggers an alarm. I had noticed yesterday that the vision in my right eye seemed 'not as clear'. With both eyes, I had no problem seeing or reading, but I did have the sensation of having my 'lens' smudged. Last evening while watching TV, I closed my left eye and my right eye was significantly blurry. Hmmm Hoping a night's sleep would take care of things, I waited until today.
I'm having the same symptoms today. I did make an appointment with the eye doctor. It's possible that after 62 years I need glasses. But panic set in and I was looking up possible causes - cataract? To be safe and the coincidence of this onset with my beginning to take Tamoxifen, I did call Dr. Mehta's office and reported this.
As this writing I've not heard back from either the eye doctor or my oncologist.
Yes, it truly is - 'always something'. More to come.
[Post Script: Eye doctor's office called me back for an appointment for early next week.]
Monday, August 24, 2015
Chemo # 4 - Follow-up with Dr. Mehta
Are people that bad of a driver or are they exercising 'uber car protection' by purposely taking up two parking spots?
Looking for a space to park today at Holy Family - Dana Farber was quite difficult. I don't recall it being so busy there. I guess my prior appointments have been on less busy days. There must have been room for for an additional dozen cars but selfish people were parked outside the lines making the adjacent space un-park-able. I ended up finding a spot the furthest distance away from the Cancer Care Unit. Not that I minded walking, but trawling for a spot took more time than I anticipated and I was now running late. Turns out it didn't matter.
The waiting area was packed. While checking in I was scoping out a seat - any seat. Luckily someone was called in as I was about to sit. Most waiting were having their blood taken and vitals checked, so as one would leave, one would return causing a musical chairs effect. I waited a good half hour before being called for by blood draw.
There was a small line for blood with only one phlebotomist who was been harangued by a medical professional (a doctor possibly) because the lab worker wasn't working as fast as she wished. Quite stressful atmosphere and not conducive to the likelihood of a near pain-free venipuncture. Which turned out to be the case. At least it was quick once it was my turn. So quick that small talk was kept at a minimum and I nearly got much of a response to how busy it was. [I guess it was an understatement so she may have felt it more rhetorical than an opportunity to explain why.] I was dismissed to the waiting room (purgatory) and yet another chair.
Not to be judgmental, but most of the crowd in purgatory where older than myself, so there was no one missing work (I surmised), but the lady next to me kept asking for the time and was huffing because her doctor was now 15 minutes late. I wanted to add that I had now been waiting an hour, but passed at being the 'one-up guy'. I had pulled my cap over my eyes hoping she would think I was asleep and stop asking the time. It worked, but she was asking others around me. I was gladdened to hear my name being called for the vital check.
Once again there was a line, but everyone knew the drill and things moved pretty well. Apparently there was a trend for high blood pressure readings, mine included. I wonder why?
I was released to spend more time in purgatory. But finding yet another chair to sit and reflect on past grievances, I had noticed that Lady Time was gone. Of course every void gets filled and this time it was someone who insisted on having a loud cell phone conversation. The things that people say in public places when they believe their cell conversation is private. So many rolled eyes. Entertaining if nothing else. An angel opened the pearly gates and called my name. Yes!
I was guided to a familiar examination room and was told that Dr. Mehta would be right with me. Compared to my other waits, he did show up quickly. He looked refreshed after having some time off. I almost asked if he enjoyed his vacation, but dispensed with the small talk and got right into my reflections on chemo # 4. Clearly this has been the most challenging. He agreed that the cumulative effect would result in this being the toughest. We spoke of some of the persistent side effects, notably the neuropathy but spent more time talking about my loss of appetite and the changes to my sense of taste.
Dr. Mehta said, "These are all classic symptoms and compared to others, you did very well." He indicated that my counts were lower compared to my other readings, but not low enough where I would need a booster. He anticipated the levels would be near normal over the next few days. This definitely mirrored how I was feeling, since yesterday was my first 'good day', but my having interrupted sleep patterns last night, today wasn't 'as good'. He said, "You are free from breast cancer.' (Really free - what could have survived that 12 week ordeal?) So, I asked, "What's next? Another CAT scan or other tests?"
Dr Mehta said, "In women a mammogram and ultra sound would be next, but since you have no breast tissue I'm just monitored every three months." He said that he was going to start me on Tamoxifen today. I asked if it was for 5 or 10 years? Dr Mehta indicated that Tamoxifen will 'kill' any new breast cancer cells by blocking the estrogen (my cancer is estrogen receptor positive). However, there isn't enough data on men other than the comparative data of the Oncotype DX. He said in five years there may be more data. He'll be seeing me at intervals of every six months eventually.
We discussed the Tamoxifen and possible side effects. He said that he wasn't worried, but regular blood tests and my knowing my body - and reporting these symptoms if they occur, the risk of 'bad side effects' is low. He shook my hand, congratulated me and said he would see me in November. "Go on and live your life", he said.
By the time I reached check out, the waiting room was almost empty. How is that? I had been there three hours - wow. I got my paperwork for my next blood test (day before my birthday) and appointment just prior to Thanksgiving. That's full circle since that's when I discovered the lump while shoveling snow last Thanksgiving.
I called home to check voice messages and Walgreens had left a message that my prescription was ready to be picked up. I headed there.
The doctor told me he was going to give me a prescription for 90 pills with four refills to cover a year, but when I picked it up there were only 30 pills. When I told the pharmacy assistant what I was expecting he said the insurance wouldn't cover 90, so they split it up. Knowing you can't fight the insurance company I said how much. He said nothing. Very odd. I don't ever recall getting any pills for free. But I'm not complaining. Sure I'll gladly come back each month for my next free 30 pills. [I'm still suspicious though.]
Getting home, I read the insert and was shaken by all the possible side effects. I guess the most dominant ones are hot flashes, head aches that dissipate over time and possible weight loss or gain (flip a coin). There were some specific to the female gender that don't apply to me unless I sprout a vagina. Just one more self examination I have to be mindful of. One caution was that shouldn't operate a motor vehicle or heavy equipment until I know how this Tamoxifen will react with me. So I decided to stay in and do some grocery shopping tomorrow.
It will be difficult over the coming days to determine if I'm recovering from chemo slower or having some effects of the Tamoxifen. I have experienced a dull headache, but that could be from caffeine withdrawal. (I did have one mug today. Maybe tomorrow I'll try more.)
So the chemo chapters are just about to close, but the challenge continues with reconstructive surgery and tending to my Triple A.
Much more to come.
Thanks to all my readers for your support as well as my family, friends, musicians and former work colleagues.
Looking for a space to park today at Holy Family - Dana Farber was quite difficult. I don't recall it being so busy there. I guess my prior appointments have been on less busy days. There must have been room for for an additional dozen cars but selfish people were parked outside the lines making the adjacent space un-park-able. I ended up finding a spot the furthest distance away from the Cancer Care Unit. Not that I minded walking, but trawling for a spot took more time than I anticipated and I was now running late. Turns out it didn't matter.
The waiting area was packed. While checking in I was scoping out a seat - any seat. Luckily someone was called in as I was about to sit. Most waiting were having their blood taken and vitals checked, so as one would leave, one would return causing a musical chairs effect. I waited a good half hour before being called for by blood draw.
There was a small line for blood with only one phlebotomist who was been harangued by a medical professional (a doctor possibly) because the lab worker wasn't working as fast as she wished. Quite stressful atmosphere and not conducive to the likelihood of a near pain-free venipuncture. Which turned out to be the case. At least it was quick once it was my turn. So quick that small talk was kept at a minimum and I nearly got much of a response to how busy it was. [I guess it was an understatement so she may have felt it more rhetorical than an opportunity to explain why.] I was dismissed to the waiting room (purgatory) and yet another chair.
Not to be judgmental, but most of the crowd in purgatory where older than myself, so there was no one missing work (I surmised), but the lady next to me kept asking for the time and was huffing because her doctor was now 15 minutes late. I wanted to add that I had now been waiting an hour, but passed at being the 'one-up guy'. I had pulled my cap over my eyes hoping she would think I was asleep and stop asking the time. It worked, but she was asking others around me. I was gladdened to hear my name being called for the vital check.
Once again there was a line, but everyone knew the drill and things moved pretty well. Apparently there was a trend for high blood pressure readings, mine included. I wonder why?
I was released to spend more time in purgatory. But finding yet another chair to sit and reflect on past grievances, I had noticed that Lady Time was gone. Of course every void gets filled and this time it was someone who insisted on having a loud cell phone conversation. The things that people say in public places when they believe their cell conversation is private. So many rolled eyes. Entertaining if nothing else. An angel opened the pearly gates and called my name. Yes!
I was guided to a familiar examination room and was told that Dr. Mehta would be right with me. Compared to my other waits, he did show up quickly. He looked refreshed after having some time off. I almost asked if he enjoyed his vacation, but dispensed with the small talk and got right into my reflections on chemo # 4. Clearly this has been the most challenging. He agreed that the cumulative effect would result in this being the toughest. We spoke of some of the persistent side effects, notably the neuropathy but spent more time talking about my loss of appetite and the changes to my sense of taste.
Dr. Mehta said, "These are all classic symptoms and compared to others, you did very well." He indicated that my counts were lower compared to my other readings, but not low enough where I would need a booster. He anticipated the levels would be near normal over the next few days. This definitely mirrored how I was feeling, since yesterday was my first 'good day', but my having interrupted sleep patterns last night, today wasn't 'as good'. He said, "You are free from breast cancer.' (Really free - what could have survived that 12 week ordeal?) So, I asked, "What's next? Another CAT scan or other tests?"
Dr Mehta said, "In women a mammogram and ultra sound would be next, but since you have no breast tissue I'm just monitored every three months." He said that he was going to start me on Tamoxifen today. I asked if it was for 5 or 10 years? Dr Mehta indicated that Tamoxifen will 'kill' any new breast cancer cells by blocking the estrogen (my cancer is estrogen receptor positive). However, there isn't enough data on men other than the comparative data of the Oncotype DX. He said in five years there may be more data. He'll be seeing me at intervals of every six months eventually.
We discussed the Tamoxifen and possible side effects. He said that he wasn't worried, but regular blood tests and my knowing my body - and reporting these symptoms if they occur, the risk of 'bad side effects' is low. He shook my hand, congratulated me and said he would see me in November. "Go on and live your life", he said.
By the time I reached check out, the waiting room was almost empty. How is that? I had been there three hours - wow. I got my paperwork for my next blood test (day before my birthday) and appointment just prior to Thanksgiving. That's full circle since that's when I discovered the lump while shoveling snow last Thanksgiving.
I called home to check voice messages and Walgreens had left a message that my prescription was ready to be picked up. I headed there.
The doctor told me he was going to give me a prescription for 90 pills with four refills to cover a year, but when I picked it up there were only 30 pills. When I told the pharmacy assistant what I was expecting he said the insurance wouldn't cover 90, so they split it up. Knowing you can't fight the insurance company I said how much. He said nothing. Very odd. I don't ever recall getting any pills for free. But I'm not complaining. Sure I'll gladly come back each month for my next free 30 pills. [I'm still suspicious though.]
Getting home, I read the insert and was shaken by all the possible side effects. I guess the most dominant ones are hot flashes, head aches that dissipate over time and possible weight loss or gain (flip a coin). There were some specific to the female gender that don't apply to me unless I sprout a vagina. Just one more self examination I have to be mindful of. One caution was that shouldn't operate a motor vehicle or heavy equipment until I know how this Tamoxifen will react with me. So I decided to stay in and do some grocery shopping tomorrow.
It will be difficult over the coming days to determine if I'm recovering from chemo slower or having some effects of the Tamoxifen. I have experienced a dull headache, but that could be from caffeine withdrawal. (I did have one mug today. Maybe tomorrow I'll try more.)
So the chemo chapters are just about to close, but the challenge continues with reconstructive surgery and tending to my Triple A.
Much more to come.
Thanks to all my readers for your support as well as my family, friends, musicians and former work colleagues.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Chemo # 4 - day 10 check-in
Certainly this round of chemo has been the toughest yet. Other than the my consistent side-effects: fatigue; low energy; lack of appetite; disrupted sleep patterns; persistent numbness in my thumb and forefinger (and to a lesser degree - my feet and toes) and general achiness, the cumulative affects of these poisons have amplified some of these side effects and manifested into 'new' ones.
Fatigue
This has been a constant, but this round (so far) it hasn't let up. During 1-3, by day 10 if not sooner, I 'felt' an improvement. There could be many factors why this is not the case right now. The atmosphere (weather) has been very 'heavy'. Between the humidity and the rain storms, the air is super saturated and not conducive to one feeling energized. Allegedly, Wednesday will be the break in the current weather pattern. [Hurricane Danny may change that.] Although it's been humid, sitting in front of a fan seemed to work and I have not turned on the air conditioner. [My electric bill should reflect this.]
Low energy
I'm sure this is directly related to the fatigue and my lack of appetite. In addition, my standing causes dizziness to the point of a near black-out to various degrees with no particular pattern. This makes me immediately stand and wait (making sure I'm near a chair or something to hold on to). Once my 'blindness' passes, I able to move cautiously. Once up, I'm OK unless I forget and bend over to pick up a dropped spoon or whatever (not feeling things picked up with my left hand causes many small things to drop). Once erect, the dizziness returns. [It should be noted that dizziness is a side effect of the blood pressure medicine I'm taking, so this is not foreign to me. However, the degree of dizziness has been much greater while undergoing chemotherapy.]
Lack of appetite
Throughout this ordeal, I have been fortunate not to have nausea. However, there have been many foods that I used to eat daily (salads, oranges, fresh fruits, coffee) that I have little tolerance for. Certain vegetables when cooked are 'passable', but others and some fruits, I can't eat. Not that they make me nauseous, but I get 'the burps' and lately, spells of hiccups and gas pains. My online research has made me understand that the chemo does affect the entire digestive track and many of these foods are too much at this time (hopefully). Prior rounds, I relied on my cravings, but this round even my cravings can cause problems.
Taste changes
Most likely related to my lack of appetite and the effects of chemo on my digestive tract, I've been most affected by taste changes for round 4. During previous rounds, I had cravings for foods not as healthy for me, like steak and cheese subs, pizza, burgers and fries. But I was able to tolerate these and did get some nutrition. However, this week all of my cravings have seemed flat tasting and basically tasteless. Even fish (salmon, haddock, scallops) has not been satisfying. My old stand-by of bland foods: cottage cheese; yogurt; cheese; oatmeal and crackers are soon becoming a turn off. I'm now resorting to soup, nuts and chocolate. Possibly for their salt content. But even salt taste is diminished. I am forcing my self to eat something, but choices are getting smaller. I've lost almost 10 pounds since my last weigh-in. [I'm usually bloated from all the fluids, so the last weigh-in indicated a higher weight than normal. In reality I'm probably 5 pounds from my 'normal' weight.]
Having been a coffee drinker for 30 years, giving up coffee seemed to make my brain foggier than 'normal'. Today, I broke down and had a cup of instant (Starbucks). So far so good.
Disrupted sleep patterns
In previous rounds, the first few days/nights I experienced intermittent sleep. Generally waking up every hour or two and during one round not being able to fall back asleep for hours [Law and Order marathon reference here]. Round 4 had similar patterns, but most recently, I've been waking up with back pains, leg and arm pains. There could be various reasons why this is more prevalent now since I haven't had the energy to take walks, thus causing muscles to atrophy and be painful. It's a two sided sword, but I'll try to 'ease' into a regimen of light exercise and walking as soon as this round 'breaks'.
Neuropathy
Listed as possible side effect of Adriamycin, I have had 'slight' numbness to my feet and a few toes. Nothing debilitation, but noticeable when standing in one spot for too long (4-5 minutes). The most aggravating neuropathy has been to my left thumb and forefinger. Dr. Mehta had mentioned that neuropathy is generally symmetric and since I haven't experienced this on my right hand, it's probably not chemo related. I don't want to be charged with practicing medicine without a license, but I do believe this is related. As the rounds of chemotherapy wind down, the numbness begins to dissipate. It's at this time that I'm able to play the guitar again. While this numbness is heightened (first two weeks of a chemo), the 'fine' sense of touch is gone. In addition, pressing my finger against the string actually hurts. Other normal functions, like picking up a small object, turning a newspaper page, opening an envelop, or separating paper are quite difficult. I can still button and unbutton clothing (which would be impossible if this was Charcot Marie Tooth (CMT) which runs in my family). I'm hopeful that by next week, I'll begin (again) to get my guitar chops up.
General achiness
Much like a neglected house, my body is in need of repairs. Most of these should be done by the body's recuperative powers which will need my attention in ensuring that I have the right sustenance and exercise regimen in place. Until this happens, I'm really feeling old. Chemo has done a number on me. My veins ache, my mouth seems on the verge of being sore, my muscles need basic toning, my stamina needs rebuilding, and I have many other aches and pains.
Some things will bounce back, while others will take some time. I'm fearful of the things that will never return or the 'things' I will need to live with the rest of my life. But I'll face those when they are identified. Until then, I have more to go with chemo # 4.
On Monday, I have a follow-up with Dr. Mehta. In the words of Roseanne Roseannadanna, "It's always something."
More to come.
Fatigue
This has been a constant, but this round (so far) it hasn't let up. During 1-3, by day 10 if not sooner, I 'felt' an improvement. There could be many factors why this is not the case right now. The atmosphere (weather) has been very 'heavy'. Between the humidity and the rain storms, the air is super saturated and not conducive to one feeling energized. Allegedly, Wednesday will be the break in the current weather pattern. [Hurricane Danny may change that.] Although it's been humid, sitting in front of a fan seemed to work and I have not turned on the air conditioner. [My electric bill should reflect this.]
Low energy
I'm sure this is directly related to the fatigue and my lack of appetite. In addition, my standing causes dizziness to the point of a near black-out to various degrees with no particular pattern. This makes me immediately stand and wait (making sure I'm near a chair or something to hold on to). Once my 'blindness' passes, I able to move cautiously. Once up, I'm OK unless I forget and bend over to pick up a dropped spoon or whatever (not feeling things picked up with my left hand causes many small things to drop). Once erect, the dizziness returns. [It should be noted that dizziness is a side effect of the blood pressure medicine I'm taking, so this is not foreign to me. However, the degree of dizziness has been much greater while undergoing chemotherapy.]
Lack of appetite
Throughout this ordeal, I have been fortunate not to have nausea. However, there have been many foods that I used to eat daily (salads, oranges, fresh fruits, coffee) that I have little tolerance for. Certain vegetables when cooked are 'passable', but others and some fruits, I can't eat. Not that they make me nauseous, but I get 'the burps' and lately, spells of hiccups and gas pains. My online research has made me understand that the chemo does affect the entire digestive track and many of these foods are too much at this time (hopefully). Prior rounds, I relied on my cravings, but this round even my cravings can cause problems.
Taste changes
Most likely related to my lack of appetite and the effects of chemo on my digestive tract, I've been most affected by taste changes for round 4. During previous rounds, I had cravings for foods not as healthy for me, like steak and cheese subs, pizza, burgers and fries. But I was able to tolerate these and did get some nutrition. However, this week all of my cravings have seemed flat tasting and basically tasteless. Even fish (salmon, haddock, scallops) has not been satisfying. My old stand-by of bland foods: cottage cheese; yogurt; cheese; oatmeal and crackers are soon becoming a turn off. I'm now resorting to soup, nuts and chocolate. Possibly for their salt content. But even salt taste is diminished. I am forcing my self to eat something, but choices are getting smaller. I've lost almost 10 pounds since my last weigh-in. [I'm usually bloated from all the fluids, so the last weigh-in indicated a higher weight than normal. In reality I'm probably 5 pounds from my 'normal' weight.]
Having been a coffee drinker for 30 years, giving up coffee seemed to make my brain foggier than 'normal'. Today, I broke down and had a cup of instant (Starbucks). So far so good.
Disrupted sleep patterns
In previous rounds, the first few days/nights I experienced intermittent sleep. Generally waking up every hour or two and during one round not being able to fall back asleep for hours [Law and Order marathon reference here]. Round 4 had similar patterns, but most recently, I've been waking up with back pains, leg and arm pains. There could be various reasons why this is more prevalent now since I haven't had the energy to take walks, thus causing muscles to atrophy and be painful. It's a two sided sword, but I'll try to 'ease' into a regimen of light exercise and walking as soon as this round 'breaks'.
Neuropathy
Listed as possible side effect of Adriamycin, I have had 'slight' numbness to my feet and a few toes. Nothing debilitation, but noticeable when standing in one spot for too long (4-5 minutes). The most aggravating neuropathy has been to my left thumb and forefinger. Dr. Mehta had mentioned that neuropathy is generally symmetric and since I haven't experienced this on my right hand, it's probably not chemo related. I don't want to be charged with practicing medicine without a license, but I do believe this is related. As the rounds of chemotherapy wind down, the numbness begins to dissipate. It's at this time that I'm able to play the guitar again. While this numbness is heightened (first two weeks of a chemo), the 'fine' sense of touch is gone. In addition, pressing my finger against the string actually hurts. Other normal functions, like picking up a small object, turning a newspaper page, opening an envelop, or separating paper are quite difficult. I can still button and unbutton clothing (which would be impossible if this was Charcot Marie Tooth (CMT) which runs in my family). I'm hopeful that by next week, I'll begin (again) to get my guitar chops up.
General achiness
Much like a neglected house, my body is in need of repairs. Most of these should be done by the body's recuperative powers which will need my attention in ensuring that I have the right sustenance and exercise regimen in place. Until this happens, I'm really feeling old. Chemo has done a number on me. My veins ache, my mouth seems on the verge of being sore, my muscles need basic toning, my stamina needs rebuilding, and I have many other aches and pains.
Some things will bounce back, while others will take some time. I'm fearful of the things that will never return or the 'things' I will need to live with the rest of my life. But I'll face those when they are identified. Until then, I have more to go with chemo # 4.
On Monday, I have a follow-up with Dr. Mehta. In the words of Roseanne Roseannadanna, "It's always something."
More to come.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Almost a week into Chemo # 4
As expected, I've been feeling progressively worse since my last entry. I've had days of waking up every hour or two; little to zero energy; hardly any appetite barring the occasional craving; sporadic episodes of hiccups; a change in the way food tastes (or doesn't taste); a near black-out each time I stand; and my 'strange' neuropathy to my thumb and forefinger has manifested itself to a greater degree. I'm once again hopeful that this will dissipate over time (as it appeared to do in my third week).
I've been more than content to watch TV. I've switched to musical and historic offerings. On the premium music channels, i.e., Palladia, I've watched entire concerts of McCartney and Wings over America (filmed in 1976), the Who (Quadraphenia) and others. I found that Mysteries at the Museum was available from Netflix (sans commercial interruption), so I started from the beginning and watched in the breeze of a window fan. Although we've been having a heat wave, it hasn't bothered me. Sitting still and doing virtually nothing doesn't generate much heat, so the fan suffices. I have noticed that the house temperature has been 84 degrees, but I've been OK without turning on the air conditioner. It's cooled down at night so I sleep with blankets on. I'm now to the point where I sleep uninterrupted for longer periods of time. However, I've been having very strange dreams.
Last evening one of my temperature readings was 99.2 degrees. In the past, this pattern has shown that I've reached Nadir and soon after I begin to feel better. If so, this has come a few days earlier than the other treatments. So I'll be monitoring this to see if it's not just a fluke. I have noticed that I'm less dizzy when standing and I even had energy to do a load of laundry. I'm hopeful that the days will begin to get better.
More to come.
I've been more than content to watch TV. I've switched to musical and historic offerings. On the premium music channels, i.e., Palladia, I've watched entire concerts of McCartney and Wings over America (filmed in 1976), the Who (Quadraphenia) and others. I found that Mysteries at the Museum was available from Netflix (sans commercial interruption), so I started from the beginning and watched in the breeze of a window fan. Although we've been having a heat wave, it hasn't bothered me. Sitting still and doing virtually nothing doesn't generate much heat, so the fan suffices. I have noticed that the house temperature has been 84 degrees, but I've been OK without turning on the air conditioner. It's cooled down at night so I sleep with blankets on. I'm now to the point where I sleep uninterrupted for longer periods of time. However, I've been having very strange dreams.
Last evening one of my temperature readings was 99.2 degrees. In the past, this pattern has shown that I've reached Nadir and soon after I begin to feel better. If so, this has come a few days earlier than the other treatments. So I'll be monitoring this to see if it's not just a fluke. I have noticed that I'm less dizzy when standing and I even had energy to do a load of laundry. I'm hopeful that the days will begin to get better.
More to come.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Chemo # 4 and day one
My other chemotherapy treatments where scheduled for early mornings. But because I needed authorization from someone other than my oncologist, I did receive the authorization from Sandra Creamer yesterday. So, the appointment for my last round of chemo was scheduled for the afternoon.
When I arrived in the chemo unit, the morning crowd was clearing out. I jumped into station 1. Lucky seven was occupied. I did see a full compliment of nurses: Liz, Ollie, Linda and of course Magoo...err, Roberta. I waited until the first one was free. Ollie came over and arranged all the implements of pain on the table then left. Linda came over and took over. I haven't had her before, but she was great. First time and minimal pain. Ollie returned and hooked me up to the first of my IV bags. The saline solution finished then the anti nausea IV was attached for an hour of dripping. All these fluids quickly passed through my system and were eager to enter the porcelain bowl. As I've learned from my other visits, the drip machine runs on battery back-up so I unplugged it and wheeled it into the restroom. While there I noticed that blood was being back-flushed into the IV. I also noticed that the unit was quiet. Upon returning to my station, I got Ollie's attention and she said, "Oh, this is the unit that needs the battery replaced. No worries, I'll call it in and reset the timer once it's plugged in." Phew, that wasn't as bad as I anticipated. It was now time for the Adriamycin (that beautiful red poison). Just the look of the two huge tubes and now that color (one of my favorites) evoked feelings of anxiety and queasiness. Bring it on and let's get this thing done.
Linda approached and set up shop to administer these tubes manually (like each other time). In chatting with Linda learned that she was originally from Maine, outside of Farmington and she reminisced about how many moose were there in the wild coexisting with the human neighbors. She had moved closer to work, but wishes to move back to 'the country'. Chatting about this and that makes the time fly and certainly took my mind off that poison. Before I new it both tubes were done. I told her before we do the next IV, I needed to make some red water. [Adriamycin makes urine a red-blush color and it's good to get it out of the bladder as soon as possible because of the toxicity.] Linda unplugged the IV machine and let me do my thing. Upon my return, I replaced the AC cord and waited for the next treatment.
Ollie stopped by and with the Cyclophosphamide, the last poison, and connected me and turned on the machine. "This will take about an hour", she said. I settled in and took my cap and covered my eyes. I was almost dozing when I heard a voice behind my chair. Apparently a Dana Farber employee was on a headset providing the serial number to the IV unit needing a battery. She apologized for disturbing me and slipped away. About 40 minutes into this IV, I once again needed to visit the porcelain throne. I disconnected the power and announced my intentions before leaving the unit. Upon my return there seemed to me no one around. I reconnected the power and resumed my position. By this time, Ollie walked by and she said, "Oh ya, you need to be reset." Beep beep beep, I was back on track.
The timer beeped and Ollie said, "You are all done. I just want to flush you with a little more saline for about 5 minutes." Not a problem, I said.
Liz stopped by and said that I was a real trooper and gave be a nice parting gift bag containing, water, hand sanitizer, chap stick, moisturizer, note pad with pen and hard candies. The bag was water-proof and she said was the perfect size for a vanity kleenex box. There was also a hand written note saying, "Hope you feel better". I thanked her and the team. By this point I was all done. I bid adieu and thanked everyone again (even Roberta). Knowing that this stuff was in me only the first part was done. I now have 7-10 days ahead of me.
Arriving home, as expected, I was fuzzy brained, had a headache, really no appetite and little energy. I got my water and sat in my chair and surfed the TV. Not too much gained my interest. I fell asleep and woke up just as the sun was setting. I had my legs crossed so one leg was asleep. I don't know how I managed it but one arm was also asleep. Panic set in and I was having thoughts of stroke, neuropathy, and whatever. However, the limbs began to wake up, but slower than normal. I selected to stay put versus standing up and risking a blacking out. Eventually I mustered enough courage and energy to get more water - not before returning some used water to the facilities.
I went to bed at midnight and like last time, I woke up every two hours. However, I was able to go back to sleep, but as 6 AM came, I was up for the day. Still groggy, head-achy, and generally not feeling great. I managed to have some coffee and a muffin. One side effect this time is spells of hiccuping. Out of the blue for no apparent reason and defying all known remedies to make it stop. Very strange indeed.
I'm not expecting tomorrow to be any better, but I'm resigned to the fact that things will get worse before they are better. So I'm ready.
More to come.
When I arrived in the chemo unit, the morning crowd was clearing out. I jumped into station 1. Lucky seven was occupied. I did see a full compliment of nurses: Liz, Ollie, Linda and of course Magoo...err, Roberta. I waited until the first one was free. Ollie came over and arranged all the implements of pain on the table then left. Linda came over and took over. I haven't had her before, but she was great. First time and minimal pain. Ollie returned and hooked me up to the first of my IV bags. The saline solution finished then the anti nausea IV was attached for an hour of dripping. All these fluids quickly passed through my system and were eager to enter the porcelain bowl. As I've learned from my other visits, the drip machine runs on battery back-up so I unplugged it and wheeled it into the restroom. While there I noticed that blood was being back-flushed into the IV. I also noticed that the unit was quiet. Upon returning to my station, I got Ollie's attention and she said, "Oh, this is the unit that needs the battery replaced. No worries, I'll call it in and reset the timer once it's plugged in." Phew, that wasn't as bad as I anticipated. It was now time for the Adriamycin (that beautiful red poison). Just the look of the two huge tubes and now that color (one of my favorites) evoked feelings of anxiety and queasiness. Bring it on and let's get this thing done.
Linda approached and set up shop to administer these tubes manually (like each other time). In chatting with Linda learned that she was originally from Maine, outside of Farmington and she reminisced about how many moose were there in the wild coexisting with the human neighbors. She had moved closer to work, but wishes to move back to 'the country'. Chatting about this and that makes the time fly and certainly took my mind off that poison. Before I new it both tubes were done. I told her before we do the next IV, I needed to make some red water. [Adriamycin makes urine a red-blush color and it's good to get it out of the bladder as soon as possible because of the toxicity.] Linda unplugged the IV machine and let me do my thing. Upon my return, I replaced the AC cord and waited for the next treatment.
Ollie stopped by and with the Cyclophosphamide, the last poison, and connected me and turned on the machine. "This will take about an hour", she said. I settled in and took my cap and covered my eyes. I was almost dozing when I heard a voice behind my chair. Apparently a Dana Farber employee was on a headset providing the serial number to the IV unit needing a battery. She apologized for disturbing me and slipped away. About 40 minutes into this IV, I once again needed to visit the porcelain throne. I disconnected the power and announced my intentions before leaving the unit. Upon my return there seemed to me no one around. I reconnected the power and resumed my position. By this time, Ollie walked by and she said, "Oh ya, you need to be reset." Beep beep beep, I was back on track.
The timer beeped and Ollie said, "You are all done. I just want to flush you with a little more saline for about 5 minutes." Not a problem, I said.
Liz stopped by and said that I was a real trooper and gave be a nice parting gift bag containing, water, hand sanitizer, chap stick, moisturizer, note pad with pen and hard candies. The bag was water-proof and she said was the perfect size for a vanity kleenex box. There was also a hand written note saying, "Hope you feel better". I thanked her and the team. By this point I was all done. I bid adieu and thanked everyone again (even Roberta). Knowing that this stuff was in me only the first part was done. I now have 7-10 days ahead of me.
Arriving home, as expected, I was fuzzy brained, had a headache, really no appetite and little energy. I got my water and sat in my chair and surfed the TV. Not too much gained my interest. I fell asleep and woke up just as the sun was setting. I had my legs crossed so one leg was asleep. I don't know how I managed it but one arm was also asleep. Panic set in and I was having thoughts of stroke, neuropathy, and whatever. However, the limbs began to wake up, but slower than normal. I selected to stay put versus standing up and risking a blacking out. Eventually I mustered enough courage and energy to get more water - not before returning some used water to the facilities.
I went to bed at midnight and like last time, I woke up every two hours. However, I was able to go back to sleep, but as 6 AM came, I was up for the day. Still groggy, head-achy, and generally not feeling great. I managed to have some coffee and a muffin. One side effect this time is spells of hiccuping. Out of the blue for no apparent reason and defying all known remedies to make it stop. Very strange indeed.
I'm not expecting tomorrow to be any better, but I'm resigned to the fact that things will get worse before they are better. So I'm ready.
More to come.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
All systems are go for Chem # 4
The rains of the last few days have passed, along with the muggy weather. Today was bright, clear with relatively low humidity. Dana Farber, Methuen was fairly light with patient activity. I checked in and was soon called for labs, vital checks and was directed into a different examination room. Dr. Mehta is on vacation, so Sandra Creamer, NP fulfilled his duties.
Sandra arrived quickly with some paperwork. She asked a few questions on the status of previously reported side effects and stated that I was doing great in my tolerating the chemo. She checked some vitals (breathing, heart, oral and nasal cavities and my eyes). She was pleased. While looking at my blood test results she said, "Your blood work looks great. Perfect in fact. You would never guess that you were having chemo therapy." [I guess I continue to amaze.] After chatting about the last treatment and 'what's next', she gave me the green like to proceed to Chemo # 4.
I have mixed emotions. I'm really happy that I'm tolerating this, but truly not looking forward to being sick again for 7-10 days. Of course there's the unknown with cumulative effects of chemo and how those may manifest during this round. There's also that underlying fear of future side effects, but I'll have to suppress those fears and relegate them to the risk/concern category - for now.
So tomorrow begins the last round. More to come.
Sandra arrived quickly with some paperwork. She asked a few questions on the status of previously reported side effects and stated that I was doing great in my tolerating the chemo. She checked some vitals (breathing, heart, oral and nasal cavities and my eyes). She was pleased. While looking at my blood test results she said, "Your blood work looks great. Perfect in fact. You would never guess that you were having chemo therapy." [I guess I continue to amaze.] After chatting about the last treatment and 'what's next', she gave me the green like to proceed to Chemo # 4.
I have mixed emotions. I'm really happy that I'm tolerating this, but truly not looking forward to being sick again for 7-10 days. Of course there's the unknown with cumulative effects of chemo and how those may manifest during this round. There's also that underlying fear of future side effects, but I'll have to suppress those fears and relegate them to the risk/concern category - for now.
So tomorrow begins the last round. More to come.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
End of round three and round four is just days away
I've been enjoying my 'good days' (some better than others, but compared to the 'bad days', no complaints).
I had my follow-up visit with my primary care provider last Friday. I thought I was having a blood test and according to instructions, I had fasted for 14 hours. [Why is it when you have to fast, you get hankerings for snacks in those wee hours of the morning? I resisted the temptation and soldiered on.]
The morning of my appointment I had to skip my morning coffee. Coffee drinkers can empathize and know how 'out of it' a lack of caffeine can cause. Dr. Rees was happy with my vitals and overall progress in my treatments. I had asked where his lab was? They used to be adjacent to his reception desk. He said they are on the first floor now. I added, that I had been fasting and was ready for my blood test. Quizzically, he looked through my electronic folder and said, "You don't need a blood test until February." Looking at my print-out, I could see that I wrote 'fast for 14 hours', but then noticed it was next to the February appointment. [Chemo brain?] Dr. Rees said he'll see me then and wished me continued luck on my treatments and upcoming surgeries (and whatever the Triple A results require). I went to Starbucks and got a venti (large) dark roast - black. Within minutes, the fog began to lift.
The weather continued to cooperate and I decided to undertake little projects here and there. I was even drawn to playing music (guitar) again and hoped that playing would bring better sensation to my thumb and forefinger. Unfortunately, I had not played for a month and my stamina was not up to speed, not to mention my chops. Determined to 'get the rust out' I worked on some intricate fingering and picking exercises which seemed to help a lot. However, after today's session I stopped and noticed that I had developed a blood blister on my ring finger. Not good. Torn calluses are to be expected but a blister is bad news. There's nothing I can do but wait until it heals. This means that it will most likely be another month before I'm wanting to play again. It is what it is. I'll just switch to playing my keyboard.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with Sandra Creamer, Nurse Practitioner. Dr. Mehta is on vacation so Sandra will make the call on my continuing to chemo # 4. Barring abnormal blood test results, I don't anticipate any delay and am planning on (and mentally preparing for) my last round of poisons.
Thanks to ALL for your continued support and encouragement!
More to come.
I had my follow-up visit with my primary care provider last Friday. I thought I was having a blood test and according to instructions, I had fasted for 14 hours. [Why is it when you have to fast, you get hankerings for snacks in those wee hours of the morning? I resisted the temptation and soldiered on.]
The morning of my appointment I had to skip my morning coffee. Coffee drinkers can empathize and know how 'out of it' a lack of caffeine can cause. Dr. Rees was happy with my vitals and overall progress in my treatments. I had asked where his lab was? They used to be adjacent to his reception desk. He said they are on the first floor now. I added, that I had been fasting and was ready for my blood test. Quizzically, he looked through my electronic folder and said, "You don't need a blood test until February." Looking at my print-out, I could see that I wrote 'fast for 14 hours', but then noticed it was next to the February appointment. [Chemo brain?] Dr. Rees said he'll see me then and wished me continued luck on my treatments and upcoming surgeries (and whatever the Triple A results require). I went to Starbucks and got a venti (large) dark roast - black. Within minutes, the fog began to lift.
The weather continued to cooperate and I decided to undertake little projects here and there. I was even drawn to playing music (guitar) again and hoped that playing would bring better sensation to my thumb and forefinger. Unfortunately, I had not played for a month and my stamina was not up to speed, not to mention my chops. Determined to 'get the rust out' I worked on some intricate fingering and picking exercises which seemed to help a lot. However, after today's session I stopped and noticed that I had developed a blood blister on my ring finger. Not good. Torn calluses are to be expected but a blister is bad news. There's nothing I can do but wait until it heals. This means that it will most likely be another month before I'm wanting to play again. It is what it is. I'll just switch to playing my keyboard.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with Sandra Creamer, Nurse Practitioner. Dr. Mehta is on vacation so Sandra will make the call on my continuing to chemo # 4. Barring abnormal blood test results, I don't anticipate any delay and am planning on (and mentally preparing for) my last round of poisons.
Thanks to ALL for your continued support and encouragement!
More to come.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Winding down the last week of Chemo # 3
Life is a tough teacher. It tests first then teaches.
We've all heard the axioms: When you have your health you have everything; You don't know what you got till it's gone; and other apropos phrases and lyrics. One of the many things I've learned through this particular journey is - I find these (sayings, axioms, lyrics) to be so true.
Like round two, chemo # 3 started out as expected - horrible. From the initial feelings of 'here it comes again', and for a good week and a half, I felt miserable. Absolutely no energy or desire to do anything but 'veg-out' in front of the TV. I had some in-house networking tasks to start (the setup of a NAS unit I purchased in June) which under normal situations would make me eager to complete, but I had very little interest in anything but being left alone. With very little appetite, it was the sporadic cravings that gave me sustenance. Even sleeping was a battle initially. However, after some days I was grateful to sleep for periods of up to 12 hours. Not that I wanted to sleep away the short summer, but sleep is what I needed and was the easiest route for me to take.
Also like round two, at mid point I developed a low grade fever. It didn't reach the 'you better call the doctor' level, but after an aspirin or two the following day I began to feel better. So much so, that I began to 'do things' again. I went on an island cruise to the Islands of Shoals out of Rye Harbor, NH.; went to the premier of Rogue Nation (Mission Impossible 5); ate at a few of my favorite restaurants and took some short rides while the nice weather persisted.
Last Thursday, Microsoft release Windows 10. For an early adopter like myself, I was anxiously waiting to get my notification that I could begin the upgrade. Like most Microsoft upgrades, there is a considerable amount of angst expected. There has never been any IT project big or small that hasn't hit some kind of 'snag'. I received a frantic call on Friday that a friend [who isn't that very computer literate] had installed Windows 10 and his 'f*cking computer isn't working right.'
More than a decade ago, I started a side business of fixing PCs and setting up networks, etc. If you recall the Sasser Worm was the 'big thing' that affected most users at the time. I got lots of business as a result of that malicious program. As time went on, I've always been the 'go to guy' for all things computer. Could Windows 10 be the next 'big thing/drama' - maybe.
Timing is everything. Not only was I feeling better and up for the challenge that I dub - PC Wars, I had the time. I spent many hours restoring his PC and reinstalling all his third party app/drivers, but not in time for Monday where he had planned to work remotely. By Monday morning I had things running at 100%. Of course this left him with a bad taste for Windows 10 to which he said, "I'll never upgrade. 8.1 works fine." I'm sure he'll get on the band-wagon eventually.
Feeling invigorated (from an IT knowledge and skills perspective), I ventured into setting up My Cloud (NAS). That took about a day, but I got it up and running. Just in time too. I got my notification that my Windows 10 was ready to be installed. I had three machines that will require this, but I always start with my 'science project'. If things go south, it's not critical that I have that machine up and running. As expected, the actual install was pretty rote, but running it and tweaking the settings took some effort. Beware those that decide to venture forth: make sure you have your third party logins, software keys, etc., handy. Microrsoft doesn't care about those third party apps - you are on your own, as I learned. I'm sure those third party vendors found this out too since the wait for phone support was more than an hour and chat help was closed due to high volume. After a day, I was able to get the machine running - OK. It is a new system and there are so many things to learn and try. I do like these projects and as I said, timing is everything. And while I'm feeling good and have the time I'm happy and appreciative of having good health. I haven't watched TV for a few days! Radical.
I'm basking in my 'good days' and am very thankful for them. Next chemo is scheduled for next Thursday. In the meantime I'll be seeing my primary care for a 'maintenance' visit on Friday. I hope he doesn't find anything to burst my feel-good bubble.
Enjoying life!
We've all heard the axioms: When you have your health you have everything; You don't know what you got till it's gone; and other apropos phrases and lyrics. One of the many things I've learned through this particular journey is - I find these (sayings, axioms, lyrics) to be so true.
Like round two, chemo # 3 started out as expected - horrible. From the initial feelings of 'here it comes again', and for a good week and a half, I felt miserable. Absolutely no energy or desire to do anything but 'veg-out' in front of the TV. I had some in-house networking tasks to start (the setup of a NAS unit I purchased in June) which under normal situations would make me eager to complete, but I had very little interest in anything but being left alone. With very little appetite, it was the sporadic cravings that gave me sustenance. Even sleeping was a battle initially. However, after some days I was grateful to sleep for periods of up to 12 hours. Not that I wanted to sleep away the short summer, but sleep is what I needed and was the easiest route for me to take.
Also like round two, at mid point I developed a low grade fever. It didn't reach the 'you better call the doctor' level, but after an aspirin or two the following day I began to feel better. So much so, that I began to 'do things' again. I went on an island cruise to the Islands of Shoals out of Rye Harbor, NH.; went to the premier of Rogue Nation (Mission Impossible 5); ate at a few of my favorite restaurants and took some short rides while the nice weather persisted.
Last Thursday, Microsoft release Windows 10. For an early adopter like myself, I was anxiously waiting to get my notification that I could begin the upgrade. Like most Microsoft upgrades, there is a considerable amount of angst expected. There has never been any IT project big or small that hasn't hit some kind of 'snag'. I received a frantic call on Friday that a friend [who isn't that very computer literate] had installed Windows 10 and his 'f*cking computer isn't working right.'
More than a decade ago, I started a side business of fixing PCs and setting up networks, etc. If you recall the Sasser Worm was the 'big thing' that affected most users at the time. I got lots of business as a result of that malicious program. As time went on, I've always been the 'go to guy' for all things computer. Could Windows 10 be the next 'big thing/drama' - maybe.
Timing is everything. Not only was I feeling better and up for the challenge that I dub - PC Wars, I had the time. I spent many hours restoring his PC and reinstalling all his third party app/drivers, but not in time for Monday where he had planned to work remotely. By Monday morning I had things running at 100%. Of course this left him with a bad taste for Windows 10 to which he said, "I'll never upgrade. 8.1 works fine." I'm sure he'll get on the band-wagon eventually.
Feeling invigorated (from an IT knowledge and skills perspective), I ventured into setting up My Cloud (NAS). That took about a day, but I got it up and running. Just in time too. I got my notification that my Windows 10 was ready to be installed. I had three machines that will require this, but I always start with my 'science project'. If things go south, it's not critical that I have that machine up and running. As expected, the actual install was pretty rote, but running it and tweaking the settings took some effort. Beware those that decide to venture forth: make sure you have your third party logins, software keys, etc., handy. Microrsoft doesn't care about those third party apps - you are on your own, as I learned. I'm sure those third party vendors found this out too since the wait for phone support was more than an hour and chat help was closed due to high volume. After a day, I was able to get the machine running - OK. It is a new system and there are so many things to learn and try. I do like these projects and as I said, timing is everything. And while I'm feeling good and have the time I'm happy and appreciative of having good health. I haven't watched TV for a few days! Radical.
I'm basking in my 'good days' and am very thankful for them. Next chemo is scheduled for next Thursday. In the meantime I'll be seeing my primary care for a 'maintenance' visit on Friday. I hope he doesn't find anything to burst my feel-good bubble.
Enjoying life!
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