The level of confusion, for want of a better word is amazing. On the one hand, it is good news. Let the chemicals run through their routine and exit the system.

Take a couple of months off to reassess the situation.

Ponder the meaning of life.

Start working on all my projects.

Keep away from the routine of the hospital.

Janet was talking the other day about this situation. You start on this adventure in a bit of a daze. You ask a bunch of questions. According to Janet I was asking my fair share of questions. Except that I was repeating my questions. I was getting answers and repeating the same questions. As I said, in a bit of a daze.

You acquiesce to the advice given by the doctors. Specially if you like them. They seem to know what they are doing. Dr. Heldey has a huge collection of articles to his credit. Surely, he knows a lot of stuff about colon cancer and its metastasized state. He is very reassuring. All we can do is follow his advice.

There is a lot of talk of alternatives to the traditional medicines. There are no proofs, just a lot of information. It is very hard to sift through all the information. We have discovered that you tend to make sense of the information as time goes by, as the need arises to make sense of things. So much of the information is anecdotal. We have no idea if people are responding to the medication, the alternative choices, or not.

I have always maintained that I will not live just for the sake of living. I will not go through a regime that seems to be more work than it is worth. What price is life worth living for? All this work and you live an extra two years. Is it worth it? Probably to the people around you, but not for the person going through the chronic condition. At least not to this one. I keep reading about people going through all sorts of programs to live longer. Why the compulsion to live at any cost?

The health network has looked after me for the past year. Diagnosis, operation, Chemo. Everyone looking after the chronic. With a smile, a laugh and a hug. You, the chronic are being looked after by all these people. The chronic is not doing anything, while things are done to him. We are a bit powerless. Go to the hospital, give blood, get Chemo. Make sure you have taken your drugs before the Chemo. Go home, sleep, rest, make the best of the situation.

We have to move now from having things done to us to deciding what we need to do for ourselves. We have to follow through with some of the stuff we have been reading about. Make sense of all the messages we are getting. Again, sift through everything and make decisions.

I find the situation very confusing. Again not sure if that is the right word. I have a lot of projects to work through, a lot of time to figure things out.

Every once in a while a glitch appears in the system. A time space continuum as they would say in Star Trek. Never quite figured out what that meant. Sounds amazing though.

So it was on this Tuesday. The Chemo Daycare unit lost track of the prescription for my Chemo medication. They had to phone the great Dr. Hedley to get a renewal. I waited an hour and a half. The waiting room was full. I just assumed they had fallen behind. I finally decided it was time to ask questions when I discovered what was causing the delay. This was not good news. The had just received the go-ahead. We now had to wait a couple of hours for the pharmacy to prepare the drugs.

I had arrived at the vampire clinic around quarter to ten. My two favourite nurses were there, Delanie, and Viviene. Delanie took on the task of sucking the blood out of me. This was going to be a full blood test including the liver enzymes in preparation for meeting Dr. Hedley on Wednesday. I mentioned to Delanie how impressed people are with the committee approach to looking after us. She smiled and said that is reserved for complicated cases only. Ahh, more information. Every visit yields new insights.

This was going to be a long day. The whole process was finished at four in the afternoon. All the nurses who looked after me were terrific as usual. They have looked after me before, making for a very relaxed afternoon. My blood count was good. I am hoping to avoid Neulasta for this week.

A couple of interesting observations. One of the patients would not shut up. I watched him in the waiting room. He changed seats three times and engaged the people sitting beside him. They never said a word as he started his conversation and continued until someone else came along, or he was interrupted or something. He sported a small red button that loudly acclaimed that Cancer Sucks.

These two ladies walked in as well. They were a bit agitated, a bundle of nerves. One of them was the companion. They were both wearing the same T-shirt that said something about supporting some cancer fighting initiative. The tag line read Kicking Cancer.

I could not help but wonder at both these displays of distaste with cancer. I do not see the point of either. Both appear to me to be negative in their outlook. We all know cancer sucks. No ones needs to be reminded of this less than the other cancer patients in the room. Yes, it sucks, but what are you going to do about it? Railing against the intrusion does little except make matters worse.

Kicking cancer sounds a lot like you are constantly kicking your self somewhere you should be avoiding. In my case, that would be the liver. Already painful enough. It does not need to be kicked any more. It has gone through enough punishment already.

We have covered this ground before. We surely need more love for our bodies. Fetneh is always reminding me to talk to my liver and tell it how much I love it. Amongst all the other stuff we are doing, it is surely helping. One of my cats, BooBoo Long Paws, insists on lying on me for a bout five minutes almost every day. He lies on my stomach and purrs. We are sure that my liver responds positively to that as well. Whatever. We are full of superstitions about all sorts of things, why not add this to the list.

My body has stopped reacting to the Chemo drugs. Even Avastin is no longer causing the destruction to my nose. I have not had a nose bleed in a couple of weeks. I was talking about this with a friend of mine who said, wow, this is a good thing, no? No, is the answer. The body has rallied summoning all the forces within the immune system, to render all the drugs useless. This is not good. We are seeing Dr. Hedley on Wednesday for a longer discussion on what is next in this new life of ours.

That Neulasta sure does an amazing job with the white blood cells.

I had lots of energy all week, though it appeared to wane by mid afternoon. Took a lot of naps that appeared to help. Still end up in bed by around 9 every night. Strange new life.

Janet and I went out to buy a vacuum cleaner and came home with a 46″ Sony Bravia TV. What to do? It was on sale and hard to resist. Also upgraded our TV to HD to take advantage of the new TV. Nothing lie watching Dr Phil in HD. I jest. Never watch that pompous freak. Just an opinion. Don’t sue me. The picture quality is absolutely amazing. In spite of its size, it appears to take less room than the old CRT TV we have been watching for a few years.  I was surprised, though, that the quality of the stuff on the TV has not improved. Still the same old boring stuff. Life’s small toys.

And, yes, we did buy a vacuum. A Dyson. Hard to know what the right decision is. Miele, Bosch, Dyson, Hoover? One store wanted to sell me a Seba. Made in West Germany. Hospital grade filters. Live for a lifetime. $800. We had trouble enough adjusting to the $600 price tag of everyone else, let alone make the jump to $800.

Finally went to the movies. Our traditional Christmas day outing. Sherlock Holmes. Had a great time. Not the best movie in the world. What a load of fun though. All tied up neatly at the end in preparation for the sequel(s). If I understand this right, Robert Downey Jr is guaranteeing his future by making movies that end up in sequels. Iron Man, and now this. Clever lad.

Went to see the Dentist, who called my oncologist who basically said do not touch that guy. We are delaying the January chemo by a week to allow me to see the Dental Surgeon, with fewer risks. The surgeon was quite nice. Friendly, with one of those smiles that is well practiced, but not genuine. His nurse was very sympathetic to my plight and could not understand why I was quite cheerful. I told her about the amazing support network I am surrounded by, and what a great oncologist I have. The Dental Surgeons attitude changed considerably once he spoke with Dr. Hedley. Interesting how we need validation for some things. Anyways, I have to see the surgeon sometime betweem the 14th and 18th of January.

Dr Hedley’s nurse, Shahnaz called to make sure I am OK. How sweet is that?

Diana and kids came over on Christmas Eve. Diana even brought the meal. What fun. A very pleasant evening indeed.

Still have my head of hair. Thinner. Who can really tell though???

© 2010 I Have Cancer Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha