So much for getting out of the hospital on Tuesday. The docs decided since they were having trouble with her pick line, they would instead keep her in Providence to do the radiation therapy there. So, yes, if you had "Cheryl stuck in the hospital for another three weeks" in the pool, congrats, you're a winner.
Cheryl was, unsurprisingly, less than happy about this news. Nothing like an 8 a.m. teary phone call to put you into complete panic mode when you're still waking up.
I can't remember the last time I got a decent night's sleep. I've got sleeping pills but they don't seem to do the job; they just make me woozy. I could take more, but then I start thinking about Heath Ledger and figure I can get by on less sleep. A fellow depressed co-worker recommended Wellbutrin over Prozac since you can still slam beers on that stuff, so I shall look into that.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
I'm a ramblin' guy
A few random tidbits of news today while taking a break from the mundanity (?) that is my low-paying job:
1) At present, Cheryl is due to be discharged from Providence late this afternoon. Turns out the bug was something that migrated from her gut, most likely due to the tumors, big surprise. So taking out the port turned out to be unnecessary, and now the pick line in her upper arm is developing clots. Oh, happy day. Transfusions and blood-thinners will ensue.
The plan is at present that she'll get a week or two of radiation therapy in Corvallis while staying with her folks, and we'll see what shakes out from there.
2) Went to a Magic pre-release event over the weekend. Managed to wrangle 5th place and some prizes, but I can tell my once-semi-vaunted skills have greatly atrophied. I do so love living 100 miles from the nearest game store - hell, we live 100 miles from the nearest anything. Cheryl and I can both agree that coming to Pullman was clearly the biggest mistake we could have made, but you know hindsight being 20/20 and all that.
3) After watching some young'uns play Rock Band for a few minutes, I remember when, back in my days, kids would actually start a band, instead of pretending to play in one. Just one more nail in the coffin of rock and roll.
4) Saw Hellboy II over the weekend. I was hoping for great, but I'd rank it as "pretty good." Still worth the price of admission. Maybe, if Cheryl's feeling up to it, we'll see The Dark Knight while she's in Corvallis. One can hope.
5) I thought the purpose of sleeping pills was to put you to sleep. The latest wonder drugs I'm on are keeping me awake at night, thusly making me even more cranky and irritable (and I'm pretty cranky and irritable to being with). I don't think that's right. I hate taking all these pills, but then I look at the small pharmacy Cheryl has and realize I'm actually not that bad off.
6) Bachelor living is fun for a few days, but the novelty wears off pretty quickly. I do get to make all the dishes I like but Cheryl doesn't (but, seriously, who doesn't like tomato sauce - I married a communist or sumthin').
1) At present, Cheryl is due to be discharged from Providence late this afternoon. Turns out the bug was something that migrated from her gut, most likely due to the tumors, big surprise. So taking out the port turned out to be unnecessary, and now the pick line in her upper arm is developing clots. Oh, happy day. Transfusions and blood-thinners will ensue.
The plan is at present that she'll get a week or two of radiation therapy in Corvallis while staying with her folks, and we'll see what shakes out from there.
2) Went to a Magic pre-release event over the weekend. Managed to wrangle 5th place and some prizes, but I can tell my once-semi-vaunted skills have greatly atrophied. I do so love living 100 miles from the nearest game store - hell, we live 100 miles from the nearest anything. Cheryl and I can both agree that coming to Pullman was clearly the biggest mistake we could have made, but you know hindsight being 20/20 and all that.
3) After watching some young'uns play Rock Band for a few minutes, I remember when, back in my days, kids would actually start a band, instead of pretending to play in one. Just one more nail in the coffin of rock and roll.
4) Saw Hellboy II over the weekend. I was hoping for great, but I'd rank it as "pretty good." Still worth the price of admission. Maybe, if Cheryl's feeling up to it, we'll see The Dark Knight while she's in Corvallis. One can hope.
5) I thought the purpose of sleeping pills was to put you to sleep. The latest wonder drugs I'm on are keeping me awake at night, thusly making me even more cranky and irritable (and I'm pretty cranky and irritable to being with). I don't think that's right. I hate taking all these pills, but then I look at the small pharmacy Cheryl has and realize I'm actually not that bad off.
6) Bachelor living is fun for a few days, but the novelty wears off pretty quickly. I do get to make all the dishes I like but Cheryl doesn't (but, seriously, who doesn't like tomato sauce - I married a communist or sumthin').
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The word for the day is "setback"
Cheryl's still in the hospital for now. They were having problems reinstalling a catheter into her port (third time was the charm, ow), and the latest blood cultures have shown she's got another bug in her system, which might explain why her temperature spiked to 102 yesterday. They're worried that the port might be the source of the infection, in which case it'd have to come out and a pick-line would need to be installed in her upper arm, and six weeks later it'd be surgery again to install a new port.
Bother. Let's hope the port isn't the source of these recurring infections, but right, all signs point to it being the culprit.
Cheryl's oncologist is suggesting, in an attempt to shrink the nasty tumors that are making eating anything beyond applesauce an impossibility, that she undergo radiation therapy for a week or so to see if that at least mildly improved things. When or if this will happen, we don't know yet. When she will return to Portland for another blast of biotherapy, or if she's even able to get more of it, we don't know yet.
Sigh. No wonder my doctor's got me on antidepressants now. Hooray mood elevators! Sadly, Prozac also affects my liver so it's forcing me to cut back on the happy juice. Drinking twice as much for the same buzz and getting double the hangover takes a lot of the joy out of Triple Martini Night.
On the reasonably bright side, we are coming up on the one-year anniversary of Cheryl's initial cancer diagnosis, and most people diagnosed with metastatic melanoma don't make it to a year since it is a very aggressive cancer, and while her stomach is riddled with nasty tumors, they don't seem to have metastasized heavily beyond her tummy and upper GI tract. So, while I doubt we will celebrate this anniversary with soda and pie, it's at least one tidbit of good news. We'll take what we can get in these parts.
Late Breaking Update: Turns out Cheryl has, in her words, a "rare and unique" bug, so she's being transferred back to Providence, and, fairly conveniently, her folks are coming tomorrow for a visit (note to self: finish cleaning the pigsty that is our apartment), and they can ferry her to Providence, where, hopefully, they'll get her back up to speed and give her another blast of biotherapy. And hopefully not keep her there for another two weeks.
Bother. Let's hope the port isn't the source of these recurring infections, but right, all signs point to it being the culprit.
Cheryl's oncologist is suggesting, in an attempt to shrink the nasty tumors that are making eating anything beyond applesauce an impossibility, that she undergo radiation therapy for a week or so to see if that at least mildly improved things. When or if this will happen, we don't know yet. When she will return to Portland for another blast of biotherapy, or if she's even able to get more of it, we don't know yet.
Sigh. No wonder my doctor's got me on antidepressants now. Hooray mood elevators! Sadly, Prozac also affects my liver so it's forcing me to cut back on the happy juice. Drinking twice as much for the same buzz and getting double the hangover takes a lot of the joy out of Triple Martini Night.
On the reasonably bright side, we are coming up on the one-year anniversary of Cheryl's initial cancer diagnosis, and most people diagnosed with metastatic melanoma don't make it to a year since it is a very aggressive cancer, and while her stomach is riddled with nasty tumors, they don't seem to have metastasized heavily beyond her tummy and upper GI tract. So, while I doubt we will celebrate this anniversary with soda and pie, it's at least one tidbit of good news. We'll take what we can get in these parts.
Late Breaking Update: Turns out Cheryl has, in her words, a "rare and unique" bug, so she's being transferred back to Providence, and, fairly conveniently, her folks are coming tomorrow for a visit (note to self: finish cleaning the pigsty that is our apartment), and they can ferry her to Providence, where, hopefully, they'll get her back up to speed and give her another blast of biotherapy. And hopefully not keep her there for another two weeks.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
The year of the suck continues
Can we just have one thing in our lives that doesn't absolutely, completely, utterly suck this year?
This weekend, we were hoping to either catch Hellboy II or The Dark Knight, or, god forbid, maybe even go hunting for huckleberries if Cheryl felt well enough, one of the few things I actually look forward to in this godforsaken place. Fat chance there, Chester. Wednesday evening, Cheryl starting vomiting again. By Thursday afternoon, she couldn't keep anything down, including water, and by Friday, she was vomiting over a dozen times even though she wasn't putting anything in her stomach. Which, as you can imagine, was loads of fun.
This, clearly, was not a good thing, so back to the hospital we went last night to get rehydrated and chock full of intravenous antinauseals. She's feeling better this morning but odds are this may result in another extended hospital stay, and what the timeline is for another treatment in Portland is, we got no clue. In my lay opinion, it would not surprise me if surgery is now called for simply to improve Cheryl's quality of life, but I'm not a doctor, I just play one on TV.
This weekend, we were hoping to either catch Hellboy II or The Dark Knight, or, god forbid, maybe even go hunting for huckleberries if Cheryl felt well enough, one of the few things I actually look forward to in this godforsaken place. Fat chance there, Chester. Wednesday evening, Cheryl starting vomiting again. By Thursday afternoon, she couldn't keep anything down, including water, and by Friday, she was vomiting over a dozen times even though she wasn't putting anything in her stomach. Which, as you can imagine, was loads of fun.
This, clearly, was not a good thing, so back to the hospital we went last night to get rehydrated and chock full of intravenous antinauseals. She's feeling better this morning but odds are this may result in another extended hospital stay, and what the timeline is for another treatment in Portland is, we got no clue. In my lay opinion, it would not surprise me if surgery is now called for simply to improve Cheryl's quality of life, but I'm not a doctor, I just play one on TV.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
One step forward, one step back
As you saw from Dave's last post, I was fading a bit at the end of our trip to Bend. I started feeling really ill and nauseated, and by Tuesday I couldn't hold down food or water. So on Wednesday, I checked my temp and it was 103 degrees! So at 8 pm we were off to the Emergency Room at Gritman Memorial Hospital here in Moscow. And, of course, just my luck, they admitted me to the hospital at midnight, likely with some form of infection.
I was supposed to be released on Friday morning, but there was some question about a possible bacteria, so they kept me for one more day, including most of today to get a new blood transfusion. But I'm home now, and the cats are happy, the hubby is happy, and I'm full of anti-nauseal drugs. Whoopee. I'll give a fuller message later this week.
Cheryl
I was supposed to be released on Friday morning, but there was some question about a possible bacteria, so they kept me for one more day, including most of today to get a new blood transfusion. But I'm home now, and the cats are happy, the hubby is happy, and I'm full of anti-nauseal drugs. Whoopee. I'll give a fuller message later this week.
Cheryl
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Slouching ever closer to decrepitude
A few months ago, I had these big, glorious plans for my upcoming 40th birthday; beer, more beer, maybe a stripper popping out of a cake or something like that. Unfortunately, having a wife with cancer and sky-high gasoline prices kind of put the kibosh on that. Man plans, God laughs and all that.
So the festivities were somewhat truncated. On my actual birthday (well, the night before, as every decent restaurant in this @#$% place closes on Sundays) we went out to one of my favorite spots, The Red Door, and Cheryl was even able to keep some food down. Although, in the future, I should pick a location that has actual air conditioning, not just several fans that keep moving the hot air around like a convection oven. Just bring me the pitcher of ice water and leave it at the table, m'kay?
Last weekend we drove down to Bend to see friends and family; my friend Jon even arranged a Seinfeld-themed party which, alas, only turned out to be the usual poker night with a puffy shirt and a trivia contest that I, amazingly, lost. I know Seinfeld trivia, but Action Cam has me beat there. My distress at having to spend $100 on gas on this trip (and I drive a Honda, for cryin' out loud!) was ameliorated by winning $100 at poker from the hard drinkers. At some point, you'd think they'd realize that Dave here is a tight player; if he reraises you, odds are he's got you beat.
Jon, in fact, now has two stills going and is marketing his liquor/paint thinner to the masses, while former business partner Brad Irwin is looking to actually go into business selling his homemade whiskey. Hey, if the craft brewing industry can take off, why not the craft distilling? Now, this would be something I would like to get into - make my own happy juice! Vodka ain't cheap, ya know.
Cheryl did pretty good for most of the trip, but I think these long car rides are probably a no-go for the forseeable future, as she faded pretty badly by the end. On the bright side, she has been able to eat a little food to supplement the intravenous milkshakes, but she's not back to her old self entirely either. She goes in for another ipilumimab treatment on Thursday; hopefully they won't keep her another two weeks. I just got the bill for the last two weeks - our insurance better pick up most of it of I will have to look into ponying up a kidney.
Dave
So the festivities were somewhat truncated. On my actual birthday (well, the night before, as every decent restaurant in this @#$% place closes on Sundays) we went out to one of my favorite spots, The Red Door, and Cheryl was even able to keep some food down. Although, in the future, I should pick a location that has actual air conditioning, not just several fans that keep moving the hot air around like a convection oven. Just bring me the pitcher of ice water and leave it at the table, m'kay?
Last weekend we drove down to Bend to see friends and family; my friend Jon even arranged a Seinfeld-themed party which, alas, only turned out to be the usual poker night with a puffy shirt and a trivia contest that I, amazingly, lost. I know Seinfeld trivia, but Action Cam has me beat there. My distress at having to spend $100 on gas on this trip (and I drive a Honda, for cryin' out loud!) was ameliorated by winning $100 at poker from the hard drinkers. At some point, you'd think they'd realize that Dave here is a tight player; if he reraises you, odds are he's got you beat.
Jon, in fact, now has two stills going and is marketing his liquor/paint thinner to the masses, while former business partner Brad Irwin is looking to actually go into business selling his homemade whiskey. Hey, if the craft brewing industry can take off, why not the craft distilling? Now, this would be something I would like to get into - make my own happy juice! Vodka ain't cheap, ya know.
Cheryl did pretty good for most of the trip, but I think these long car rides are probably a no-go for the forseeable future, as she faded pretty badly by the end. On the bright side, she has been able to eat a little food to supplement the intravenous milkshakes, but she's not back to her old self entirely either. She goes in for another ipilumimab treatment on Thursday; hopefully they won't keep her another two weeks. I just got the bill for the last two weeks - our insurance better pick up most of it of I will have to look into ponying up a kidney.
Dave
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