Part 39 Which end is up and where did my wife go?


Time goes by slowly here. I sleep a few minutes, then wake up. Sometimes the room looks different to me – I seem to be having mini hallucinations from one of the meds they are giving me. At times I feel like I am on the ceiling, and the chart on the wall in front of me is on the floor. I look around and see I am wrong, and my bearings return. I lean my head to say something to Becah, only to realize that she is not there at all, but left thirty minutes ago. I drift off again, then awake to more disorientation. And the cycle continues…

At night I actually have a great sleep, uninterrupted by crazy dreams. M only disruption is from the two nurses who enter to take blood or blood pressure or some other test that they feel compelled to do regardless of time or my need for rest. They are very nice, though, and are operating off doctors’ orders, so how mad at them can I really get after all. My friend Steve drops by later in the day, discussing a book he read called “90 Minutes in Heaven” and telling me about his recent trip to the Bahamas (both of which at this moment sound about equally good places where I would rather be than here).

After he leaves I sleep again, only to abruptly awake to find my port leaking. After an inspection from medical staff, I am informed that it may need to be replaced, and they are puzzled as to why it should need replacing so soon. This means another operation, which I take as bad news. They try to contact Dr. Br- to come check it. I am especially unsettled as I am otherwise experiencing less fever and feel better in general. My blood pressure and temperature are fine. A test later in the morning, however, reveals that my port has a tear and will in fact need to be replaced. I take a quick nap only to discover another round of weird dreams. Dr. Se- interrupts them, entering in his subtle yet heroic fashion, telling me that someone probably accessed my port at a wrong angle. He orders an IV. Dr. Se- informs me that he only orders chemotherapy pre radiation and during radiation only – never post, and will confer with my oncologist about doing away with my proposed May and June treatments. I am elated at this news and the prospect of no more suffering in the name of treatment. He arranges for me to have fluids pumped through my tube and Dr. Br- comes in later and agrees to hold off replacing the port until a decision is made on my treatment plan. Then I will need only one more hospital trip – to get the port out – and I will be through with all of this.

After another good night’s sleep, I am visited by my primary physician and nurse. I am still nauseated and congested, my potassium is low, and I have so much phlegm that by 9:30 I am actually gagging. Despite all this, I am told that tomorrow could be the discharge date. I am also experiencing excessive fluids from the other end too, the first major bout of this since treatment started. I am jittery, and all these symptoms have caused me to be more down today despite the prospect of leaving soon. It is earth day. I wish I could celebrate, although I am happy to be on this side of it.

My IV is causing problems; the fluids sting when they are pushed through, so that means sticking me again to start a new one. As always, I turn my head and refuse to look at where the needle is imbedded in me. Becah comes and brings me a magazine to try to help reconnect me to the world. She also gives me an orange popsicle, and a rush of sweet intensity fills my taste buds. After a few moments, though, the pleasant taste changes to strange, and I put it down. Also, the swallowing contributes to my mucous problems, so it becomes counterproductive anyway. Soon the staff hurries in and rushes me to another room to test my port, very distressing because I must stop watching a great movie that I am engrossed in, “The Day the Earth Stood Still”, one of the few programs I’ve even bothered to watch.