Sherry came home today and began cleaning before she got in the house. I, on the other hand, got up, sat in the television room for a few minutes, parked on the sofa for a GREAT nap, got up, welcomed Sherry home, read the newspaper, headed back to the sofa and woke up a few minutes before five telling myself I am ready to fight the battle but once I pushed myself up, was not nearly so sure. That, however, does not mean the war is not ready to come back to you at any moment. The war is so sneaky. I've noticed that for years. For example, you are in bed and feel just fine and think of a number of things that need to be done and up you pop only to discover the war was having fun at your expense. You don't really feel like doing a damn thing. So you plop back into the bed and the war laughs its arse off. Yeah, really funny.
Trying to make up my mind about Torisel. Friday they gave me a unit of liquid benedryl, some nausea meds and while I was coma-ed out with all that stuff, they snuck in the cancer meds themselves. Took a little more than a hour. And at first I could discern no reactions: appetite fine, feet fine, a little bit of a hangover from the benedryl, but other than that not much. However, I spent most of the weekend on my skinny little butt pretending that if I got up and did something I could. That's not true. I didn't want to do a damn thing. Yesterday, I figured the trauma of the C-diff had worn away somewhat, but all I wanted to do was sleep. Let all those "things" wait and besides, I am tired of the war getting all the laughs. There is one serious physical side effect: edema in the upper legs. Swollen and heavy, the legs make it even more difficult just to get up. Worse, they feel like clay. Just touching them leaves a dent. And crossing them, while not impossible, is difficult, as is getting up on my own again.In other words, if the war is having a good time right now, David is not.
Tomorrow I go in for more fluids (I am sick of the word fluid) and to discuss the lack of strength, edema, fatigue, etc. I gotta a feeling they are gonna feel me, say those are pretty much the problems and send me home. I grow less and less satisfied with the medical system every time I go into it. I am thinking of getting a me a good mail order Shaman to come and do chants and all that. Helpful? Probably not, but since the Shaman will not speak English I can put any possible positive spin I want on his message.
However, if the fatigue is better tomorrow, I will most likely have a change of heart. I remember--oh so well--all those awful side effects from Nexavar and Sutent. So far, Torisel has been a piece of cake, but Lordy I am tired of sleeping. And, as usual, would love some warm weather. Supposed to get up to 73 tomorrow and I plan to spend no little amount of time in the sunshine on the back porch after home from the doc.
And so it goes. I want to do some philosophical posts, but right now just do not have the mo. But they are on my list of goals, right up there with walking to the end of the block.
Hi David, You are in my prayers. Steve is not as sick as you but said tonight he was so tired of feeling bad and having no energy. He is stage 4, but still has more good days than bad. Hang in there, maybe you will get some sunshine tomorrow, just lay back and let the sun hit in the face and recharge your energy batteries. ( I bet the flowers are starting to peek up in Georgia.) A lot of people are praying for you. Good luck with the doctor.
Posted by: Wanda in North Carolina | March 12, 2008 at 12:20 AM