| The Columbian |
9.01.2013
Cancer Update: Roadkill
Roadkill. That's what I feel like. Roadkill. Hit dead-on by a truck, lying on the side of the road.
Same treatment as the first 3, but the effects are cumulatively worse.
No pain. Just, well, dead. Poisoned. Severely Poisoned.
Nothing abnormal for this, I'd guess I'm getting off easier, or much easier than many, most. I have such a tough body.
For 54 hours straight I've done almost nothing but lie in bed, asleep 80% of the time, dozing, in a daze, 20% of the time. Near zero appetite. An hour here or there to do blog maintenance, news review and posting. Sometimes a light meal.
Within the first day, a huge diarrhetic effect - peeing gallons. Now, it just hurts like blazes for the first few seconds as the flow starts, deep inside at whatever the shut-off valve is. Again, typical, just worse. These severe symptoms will pass in another day or so.
I'm pretty sure the idea of this chemo is - because cancer runs at a much higher metabolism than other tissue - try and fill the body with enough poison that it kills cancer, but doesn't quite kill too much healthy tissue at the same time.
My guess is that some life will return by Tuesday.
Week from tomorrow, Monday, I go to GUH for intensive scans.
Thursday Sept 12 at 1pm I meet with my oncologist, to learn the results, and prognosis. A 5th chemo is scheduled, tentatively, after that meeting, on the chance that the tumors have been shrinking, and she wants, my Doc He, she wants to shrink them a bit more before surgery. Or, if the tumors have not shrunk, or if they've grown, as they do sometimes on chemo, well, then treatment is done, and the clock starts ticking.
I find it upsetting to be so debilitated. I also am reminded at the extraordinary healing powers that my body may have. Near miraculous. Near Miraculous.
I don't believe in the Divinity, Sentient God, stuff. Never have. Never will. But there are times when it 'seems like' I'm wrong.
About 5 years ago when I was doing 2 of the 4 shifts per day at the White House vigil I had a wonderful friend, Julie, about my age, MS. She was retired from a few places, so she had an income, and was very, very kind to me. She gave me one of her bikes to use on my 4x / day treks to the WH. It was very simple, extremely light weight, very unstable. One day, mid day, I was headed to the WH at the rather complex Thomas Circle, speeding on my way, I heard a car horn, there was Julie waving and smiling. Well, I couldn't resist, turned my head toward her, raised one hand from the handle-bars in a big hello... Next think I knew I was on the pavement, having fallen at speed, full weight, rib first onto the point of the straight handle-bar.
It was paralyzing pain. I was immobilized, sitting on the pavement, head sagging down, paralyzed. Well, of course poor Julie left her car in the street, was at my side. I said nothing, looked not at her. Others offered to call an ambulance. I think I got as far as squeezing her hand in reassurance, and waving my hand, 'no,' about the ambulance.
I was responding to the most odd, but clear 'Call,' "just sit here. I'll heal you. Just sit here." I am near certain my rib was broken. It must have been. I sat motionless for, well, 15 minutes or so. Rode away after that. Much pain, but no hospital, no treatment, self-healed.
I have some of that same experience now - a sense of massive mobilization by all the cells in my body to deal with this saying, "Trust us. Just rest. Trust us."
As I announced on Thursday night, I've not been on email or FB. Too fuzzy headed, too week for that.
Same treatment as the first 3, but the effects are cumulatively worse.
No pain. Just, well, dead. Poisoned. Severely Poisoned.
Nothing abnormal for this, I'd guess I'm getting off easier, or much easier than many, most. I have such a tough body.
For 54 hours straight I've done almost nothing but lie in bed, asleep 80% of the time, dozing, in a daze, 20% of the time. Near zero appetite. An hour here or there to do blog maintenance, news review and posting. Sometimes a light meal.
Within the first day, a huge diarrhetic effect - peeing gallons. Now, it just hurts like blazes for the first few seconds as the flow starts, deep inside at whatever the shut-off valve is. Again, typical, just worse. These severe symptoms will pass in another day or so.
I'm pretty sure the idea of this chemo is - because cancer runs at a much higher metabolism than other tissue - try and fill the body with enough poison that it kills cancer, but doesn't quite kill too much healthy tissue at the same time.
My guess is that some life will return by Tuesday.
Week from tomorrow, Monday, I go to GUH for intensive scans.
Thursday Sept 12 at 1pm I meet with my oncologist, to learn the results, and prognosis. A 5th chemo is scheduled, tentatively, after that meeting, on the chance that the tumors have been shrinking, and she wants, my Doc He, she wants to shrink them a bit more before surgery. Or, if the tumors have not shrunk, or if they've grown, as they do sometimes on chemo, well, then treatment is done, and the clock starts ticking.
I find it upsetting to be so debilitated. I also am reminded at the extraordinary healing powers that my body may have. Near miraculous. Near Miraculous.
I don't believe in the Divinity, Sentient God, stuff. Never have. Never will. But there are times when it 'seems like' I'm wrong.
About 5 years ago when I was doing 2 of the 4 shifts per day at the White House vigil I had a wonderful friend, Julie, about my age, MS. She was retired from a few places, so she had an income, and was very, very kind to me. She gave me one of her bikes to use on my 4x / day treks to the WH. It was very simple, extremely light weight, very unstable. One day, mid day, I was headed to the WH at the rather complex Thomas Circle, speeding on my way, I heard a car horn, there was Julie waving and smiling. Well, I couldn't resist, turned my head toward her, raised one hand from the handle-bars in a big hello... Next think I knew I was on the pavement, having fallen at speed, full weight, rib first onto the point of the straight handle-bar.
It was paralyzing pain. I was immobilized, sitting on the pavement, head sagging down, paralyzed. Well, of course poor Julie left her car in the street, was at my side. I said nothing, looked not at her. Others offered to call an ambulance. I think I got as far as squeezing her hand in reassurance, and waving my hand, 'no,' about the ambulance.
I was responding to the most odd, but clear 'Call,' "just sit here. I'll heal you. Just sit here." I am near certain my rib was broken. It must have been. I sat motionless for, well, 15 minutes or so. Rode away after that. Much pain, but no hospital, no treatment, self-healed.
I have some of that same experience now - a sense of massive mobilization by all the cells in my body to deal with this saying, "Trust us. Just rest. Trust us."
As I announced on Thursday night, I've not been on email or FB. Too fuzzy headed, too week for that.
8.31.2013
***** MOTHERS, what right have you to keep your children ignorant of the mortal threat to their planet? What right have you to keep them from fighting for a future, with their very lives?
***** MOTHERS, what right have you to keep your children ignorant of the mortal threat to their planet? What right have you to keep them from fighting for a future, with their very lives?
Poverty strains cognitive abilities, opening door for bad decision-making, new ... Washington Post
| Washington Post (blog) | - |
8.30.2013
nd Ya feelin it? "THIS IS WAR III CONDITIONS," For lovers of Creation, the next 200 billion kids, Democracy, Liberty. Ya got a pulse?
nd Ya feelin it? "THIS IS WAR III CONDITIONS," For lovers of Creation, the next 200 billion kids, Democracy, Liberty. Ya got a pulse?
Poverty saps mental capacity to deal with complex tasks, say scientists.The Guardian
| Washington Post (blog) | - |
(details) Cancer update: 'Chemo brain,' 'Progressively worse sickness,' Staying quiet and Updating blog Start Loving
'Chemo brain,' it is called, I was told by my nurse at Georgetown Hospital GUH, when I told her there were fewer days and hours per day when my brain didn't feel a bit fuzzy, tingling and numbness in hands and fingers.... I walked 4 blocks in the wrong direction early yesterday morning - I don't do stuff like that. A few other such mind-trick incidents. Yes, Nurse Sue said, the sickness gets progressively worse. I didn't ask her if the effects are reversed when the poison has stopped, after a while. I'm guessing, yes. I'll ask next time, in 2 weeks, Sept 12, when I meet with my oncologist Doc He, she's from China. I did ask her if the fuzziness was cancer getting into my brain, or the chemicals, poison, and like me, she is guessing the later.
My fatigue and fuzziness intensified much sooner with this 4th treatment - hit me pretty hard within hours, and persists. Harder to concentrate. More error prone. Not like me.
So, I'm pulling in, for the moment, for at least the next 3-4 days, I expect - reading, updating the blog. I will not be checking FB or Email during this time. I need to rest, and do some downtime, and maintenance, my body is telling me.
KEEP ON!
I am checking the news, and autoposting to my FB, as I post to the blog. I use twitterfeed, that also simulposts to FB, titles only, with link.
Regarding the blog: I've just posted this note at the top where the most recent posts are listed. Please NOTE:
My fatigue and fuzziness intensified much sooner with this 4th treatment - hit me pretty hard within hours, and persists. Harder to concentrate. More error prone. Not like me.
So, I'm pulling in, for the moment, for at least the next 3-4 days, I expect - reading, updating the blog. I will not be checking FB or Email during this time. I need to rest, and do some downtime, and maintenance, my body is telling me.
KEEP ON!
I am checking the news, and autoposting to my FB, as I post to the blog. I use twitterfeed, that also simulposts to FB, titles only, with link.
Regarding the blog: I've just posted this note at the top where the most recent posts are listed. Please NOTE:
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