It is February 13. I have done little today and lack the spirit to do anything. I have been alone today as the Girls are shopping. I fought gas pain last evening and through the night, getting it under control about 11 this morning but leaving me exhausted. Inger was not happy with the leg and my aching middle makes me frown all the time, as the Girls noted. Other than that things are good and I can sit here a write a little about it all. Tomorrow I will have a CT scan and a consult with Dr. H, my oncologist. To bed at 10:30 for sleep at one hour intervals and up at 6:15 to enjoy Valentines Day with a moon, stars and a spring wind howling in the darkness. It feels great. With little gas pain and only the pain of the animal and pressure of lymph I am getting along good. I continue to take two pain pills in the night for sleeping and two laxatives with the morning pills. This seems to keep me in balance.
They did chest, upper and lower abdominal CT scans on me. That went well. I could lay through it without too much discomfort, although the gas pain now present after every dining experience caused some cramping. Fortunately farting works for me. After the scans we joined the Daughters for lunch. Jocelyn brought a Valentine gift for each of us, she is awesome on the holiday stuff, puts me to shame. We convened at the oncologists office 20 minutes before my appointment. When my name was called I came through with the entourage in tow. We jammed into exam room 3 and waited for the doctor. During the wait we shared tasteless and tasteful health care humor as is our tradition. I set on the exam table, Jennifer stood in the corner and Van and Jocelyn took the two chairs. As the girls talked I looked back at the first time we were all jammed into a room because of my disease, last January. I felt very guilty then for putting my Ladies through the ordeal and I still do. About the time I started to get depressed about the entire thing the Doc came in with a new fellow.
‘We took a close look at the scans. There is no change we can tell from the last. You do have some fluid in the right lung, but that has been there from the beginning. We need to watch it, but if it fills up they can drain it.’ My mind digested his report. ‘I know’ came my response. He looked at me quizzically. ‘How can you tell?’ ‘I can tell there is no change and nothing is worse’. ‘I think we should continue on the same program.’ “I think I would like to quit the chemo for a while’ ‘That’s ok with me’ came the immediate reply. ‘Is the chemo controlling the cancer?’ ‘Maybe’, then the Doc went into a spiel about percentages of people who’s cancers improve, stay the same and grow with the therapy he is using. By the time he quit talking Jocelyn's head was in her hands, Jennifer was bowed down and Vanessa was stalwart and fixed in her posture. So in the end by not continuing chemo I could be hastening my own demise by taking the leash off the animal. Then again the chemo may not be the leash, and there are many dangers associated with the chemo itself, some of which I already am handicapped with, in particular neuropathy. So I will take a chance with out it, Doc will see me monthly for a while and we will wait for symptoms. It pains me to have my Girls hear these parts, about time left and handling symptoms with the reality that we cannot kill the animal because it has grown too much. Chemo likely remains in my future but for now we will battle without it.
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