Decision time soon looms. It seems like yesterday that I was well, walking through the zoo in Chicago, playing golf with the Hays family and my Brother, those walks in the park and sleeping in bed with my Wife. Of course I was not well then, but I was unaware. I struggle to work every day. Last week I managed about 3 days total of productivity and a lot of time struggling. Now with each passing day it becomes apparent and clear, yet each day I start and try to produce something. Is today the day for that big order or that final call?
Lunch time has come, it is March 24. While taking the step from treatment to hospice was emotionally difficult, I am glad we did it. I split my office moving the laptop to the family room where I shall conduct my business from a bed with 3 way incline and lift and a fabulous air mattress that continuously somehow moves about and assures my comfort for hours in bed. I prescribed the bed stay as a step to reducing the swelling and restore my ability to walk and make calls. In the interim I have the luxury of technology. I can light up two printers if need be from where I sit. I got a new phone and once again am hands free and I am excited at the prospects presently available. Should I be so interested in work in my last days? There is no right or wrong in my eyes now. I look to fill my days with things I enjoy within the envelope of love and support that Vanessa has so carefully placed me. I enjoy using my noggin.
Since mid week last my mobility has gone away. Walking more than a hundred feet is
impossible and it is turtle slow. My trunk is shaped like Quagmire’s head. Both legs are trunks with fluid leaking here and there. My stones are somewhere in a ball bag the size of a grapefruit that feels like someone is kicking it every few minutes with a redwing. The bed stay with appropriate elevation and doubling up on the manual lymph draining regimen is prescribed to bring it under control. Now in day two I note some improvement. Urinating has improved. I now take 6 laxative tablets a day and a liquid once a day to keep my pipes open. It is working. This eliminates straining for number twos which in turn reduces bleeding from the tumor into the bladder. For over two weeks I have been bleeding and passing clots. In fact, I had to urinate regularly and hope I passed a very painful clot or two every time. If I missed a time the next time the clot was twice as big. Oh the animal so cruel in it’s delivery. Relax so you can pee, almmmmmmm, almmmmmmm. Find the head in the edema. Relax and release, ahhhhhhhhhhh, pass a clot, oh, oh, my God, x??!!####, followed by blood. Sometimes the bathroom fills with the smell of fresh blood, a sickening smell I noted. Drinking less fluid makes it worse, drinking more makes it more frequent. Now in my second day most of the bleeding has stopped, so much so the clots are gone. My interval grows longer as well, now sometimes over two hours. While still a task, this process also has improved from earlier in the week.
With each passing day the reality continues to sink in. The bleeding comes and goes. I have always lived in my own world independent of the emotions and events going on around me. Often teased for all the voices in my head that occasionally raise their heads the reality is just that. I have always had a lot of company even alone. So it has been easy to compartmentalize my situation, placing the animal in a subservient position to my normal life. Even hospice at the outset seemed like just another step in the process. In just a few days the animal demonstrates it’s awesome power.
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