“I Can Make You Poop” and Other Kinds of Celebration

The instructions were nothing we haven’t heard already: you’ll feel worse for two weeks, the improvement won’t happen in a SHAZAM moment but will be gradual, keep eating (dear God, do you see the size of me in the image below? No efforts to lose weight allowed for at least a month….), in the event of nausea or pain that makes it difficult to live your life, do X, Y, or Z. Z is for Zofran, another anti-nausea med I can add to my current meager retinue of anti-nausea practices. I avoid it for its constipating characteristics, but Nurse Jan came through with yet another outstanding quote: “If you need the Zofran, take the Zofran. I can make you poop.” 

We had a lovely family dinner last night to celebrate, with a small ceremony before dessert. I didn’t think burning the schedule would be as satisfying, but oh, it was….

Ruth and I unveiled plans for the Summer 2022 Expedition:  a complete two-week camping trip on Cape Cod,  which, for decades, was our annual family read-a-thon in the pines and on the beach. We think we have figured a way to do it…. After the diagnosis, two weeks on the Cape was the only thing I could think of for a so-called bucket list, and even then, R had to suggest it before I instantly agreed. It’s going to be fun to plan it. And even mom says she’ll come.

And, all the moving parts for the next chapter of treatment, so-called “consolidation durvalumab,” have been put into place. An email prompted me to check my medical chart for new stuff and a retinue of appointments rolled out, notable mostly for the extra chemo that had been scheduled and the incorrect scheduling of the durvalumab. (Should have been every other week, not consecutive weeks.) So, the CAT scan is scheduled for exactly two weeks from yesterday morning. (Tip: stay on hold with the diagnostic imaging department for as long as you need to, because they will not immediately return your message.) The first infusion is scheduled for that afternoon. The next infusion is schedule for two weeks after that.

Meanwhile, there will also be an ultrasound of some thyroid bizness that first cropped up a few years ago (just to keep things interesting.) Then a  follow-up with Dr. Radiology in a month.

Never let it be said that a cancer patient’s life is a quiet one.

Today my mind wants my body to move faster than it is willing. The trick is that fatigue is also mitigated by exercise. So, if you feel fatigue, you should move. You should also rest. It’s a most excellent conundrum for the morning.

And isn’t it lovely to be alive?