21. home stretch

OK. It's 12:00 AM on Monday. 6 more days to go. It's been a tough weekend. I don't like complaining, but I figure I've got to be honest. I'm keeping track of my experience so other poor souls who are going through the same thing have some idea of what to expect. Reading the blogs of fellow travelers has been super helpful for me. I also imagine that some day I might want to remember what I went through.

So here we go.

My tongue has new sores on top of the old ones and is incredibly sensitive, my bottom lip is more swollen also sensitive, my throat is swollen and constricted, making it even tougher to swallow, and the skin on my neck is red and burning and itchy. I am still drinking at least 4 or 5 cups of tea and vitamin water a day, which I'm proud of. But periodically it goes down the wrong pipe and I'm off on a coughing jag for a couple of minutes. Sometimes it even happens when I'm not drinking anything. I have to spit and gargle frequently just to keep my mouth somewhat clear.

My pain killers are becoming less effective. The oxy-codene (percocet) is supposed to last 4-6 hours, but it barely lasts 2, and it takes about an hour to kick in, so I get maybe an hour of relief. I also have found that at about the 2-3 hour mark I start getting nauseous. I threw up this afternoon, for no apparent reason. My theory is it's my body saying it wants more percocet. I'm going to ask my radiation doc, Dr. Zablow, if I should be taking more of it and/or using it more often. In the meantime I don't want to overdo it, so I've started taking some morphine at the 2 hour mark. Dr. Z previously told me this was ok to use it to handle 'break-through' pain. It sort of works, although it makes me a little dizzy.

Even though I'm nearing the final stretch I'm pretty nervous about this last week. Since radiation's effects are cumulative I imagine my complaints will only get worse. Not only that, because the effects are delayed I can expect the week after I finish treatment to be more of the same. So I've really got 2 more weeks to go. Ugh.

I don't think I'll be getting chemo this time around. I was already maxed out on toxicity a couple of weeks ago, and my side effects weren't anywhere near as bad as they are now. My chemo doc, Dr. Conde, has stressed that what's most important is not to do anything that would cause me to have to delay radiation treatments. If my sores get much worse I think I'd have to take a break. I doubt I'll get chemo next week either since I only have one day of radiation.

Wayne, Dr. Conde's assistant desribed this point in treatment as 'balls to the wall.' He was dead on. But in spite of my complaints I do feel that I'm going to make it and it's going to work. I'm optimistic about my recovery too.

Betsy brought up an interesting point yesterday: she said she had been thinking to herself that when we're done with all this and I've recuperated we're done. But she's realized that that's not true. For the next 3-5 years we have to diligently watch for growths. After that the likelihood of recurrence goes way down. Betsy's observation was that even then it's not over. This is a life changing event, like having a kid and it demands the same committment, responsiblity and care. I think I'm intellectually aware of that but right now I'm so focused on getting through each day I'm not able to think about it a whole lot.

But I can say this: early on in this blog I wrote that if I'm not changed by this something's wrong. The truth is, I really have no choice but to change -- it's happening no matter what I do. I can fight it or welcome it or be indifferent to it, but I can't stop it. I'd like to believe that I'm welcoming it. I think it's good to be reminded how fleeting my time on earth is. I'll smell the morning a little more intensely. I'll hold Betsy and Esther that much tighter. I'll stay in better touch with friends. I'll take each moment a little more seriously. I think that's what growing up is about.