All night long I cleaned up messes, and then the next day they keep my at the doctor;s all day… and how was your day?
I am utterly exhausted., They tell me to forget tomorrow’s Chemo & Radiology therapy. I wish I could remember how to type.
Please pray for me.
Suddenly last night, it seemed my teeth had come loose and were about to fall out. This was very distressing! What should I do?
Eventually my teeth stopped rolling around in their sockets and I realized I was dreaming. Gee, why couldn’t I have had a nice dream?
Anyway, I’m still so tired, I could plotz.
G’day, boys ‘n’ gulls! Byron the Quokka here, letting you know this blog remains in operation even with the blogger needing some help to fog a mirror.
Don’t worry! We’re going to plant the old crock outside with a cigar and hope and pray for the best. No chemotherapy this week (he should feel better already),
Meanwhile, it’s my job to see that your comments get published Don’t be afraid to make jokes! We could use some.
To Erlene: today I can’t remember how to edit a post or a comment–and my typing is a mess, too. They call it chemo brain.
No, I did not receive “a river in a wheelchair” today. What I did receive was the nurse shutting the car door on my knee because she thought I was all the way inside. Hum baby, did that hurt! But I’m so glad it wasn’t a finger. Try that on for laughs sometime.
Zacherley, the “Cool Ghoul”
i’m going to follow the advice of “The White Rabbit” and limit myself to just one post a day until I feel half-human again.
Well, at least we got to watch our Zacherley special last weekend.
Last night: third sleepless night in a row.
I’m hoping it will do me good to sit out in the sun with a cigar.
Anyway, I’m still here and thank you for all your prayers you make on my behalf.
I thought I’d skated safely past the worst of chemotherapy. I could not have been more wrong. Three sleepless nights in a row, and other symptoms that I’d rather not describe–and I feel like I’m ready for the scrap heap. I’m only posting this in case anyone thought I’d died or something.
I am now going to try sitting out in the sun.
Don’t expect too much from me today. Last night was one of the worst of my adult life. Looks like the chemo side effects want to make up for lost time.
I won’t get into describing the symptoms: it’s bad enough just having them, without having to write about it.
Anyway, I’ll post a couple of things I’d already decided on. And pray for a better tomorrow;
I wonder if I could trade places with this lizard. He looks healthy.
I am weary. I feel weak. We went to the doctor this morning, I’ve had my cigar, and now I have to get ready for our daily trip to JFK Hospital. Yesterday we went all the way out there, only to be told the radiology machine wasn’t working, we might as well go home. I do hope it’s working today.
Chemotherapy continues, and then there’ll be a spot of immunotherapy (whatever that is), and after that, probably some surgery. Not exactly anything to look forward to.
I thank all of you who have offered up prayers on our behalf. Patty’s as worn-out as I am: she does all the driving, my car having given up the ghost.
Maybe tomorrow I can write up Tampon Tim’s so-called pheasant-shooting adventure.
And Utah’s scheme for guaranteed college admissions for all and sundry.That ought to be a sure-fire winner.
Pray for our country, too.
I think I’ll have some fruit gels.
Most of us, if we’re old enough, have heard all sorts of horror stories about chemotherapy. You’re terribly sick all the time, all your hair falls out, it generally puts you through the wringer. I heard all those tales, so I wasn’t looking forward to undergoing chemotherapy.
Well, I’ve been on it for two weeks and have pretty much skated over and past the scary side effects. I’ve gotta believe they’ve gotten a lot better at it over the years. Medications are available to deal with side effects, but so far I haven’t needed any. My hip hurts all the time, and I can’t get a good night’s sleep because of bladder stones; but those afflictions have little or nothing to do with the chemo.
But I do have some problems with it. I’m clumsy: bump into things, trip over things, drop things, etc. And I forget stuff that I ought to remember. I am assured that these effects are temporary and will gradually go away when the chemo stops.
And I have a lot of fatigue. Can’t start a new novel, under the circumstances. I need more rest during the day. Everybody says so, and I guess I’d better take their advice.
So it’s so far, so good: so the doctors tell me. And I appreciate your prayers on my behalf. Thank you.
Yes, I’m running late and I’m sorry for that. I’ve found some truly gnarly nooze stories I want to share with you, but they may have to wait for Monday. Just now I want my cigar and my chair in the sunshine and then go back indoors to watch a movie.
A couple of these stories are simply too preposterous to be lies. So stay tuned!