I escaped from the hospital on Saturday, 31 October 2009, after I literally begged my oncologist, Dr. G, to let me go home. The results from my CT scan were not all in yet and he was thinking about keeping me in another day.
But now I'm home and it's where I need/want to stay.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
return of the Hospital Food
First of all, I apologize in the delay on posting this.
Doug got admitted into the hospital 11pm on Wednesday evening with a temp of 101.4 F.
By the time they finished with his vitals and hooking him up to an IV, it was 2am and time for me to head home.
I talked to Doug this morning and they are keeping him for an extra day so a doctor from dangerous diseases can check him out before releasing him.
If you wish to go see him, he's at the Florida Hospital Orlando:
601 East Rollins Street
Orlando, Florida 32803
He's on the 10th floor, room 238
If you wish to contact him directly, use this number or you will be told that he has been discharged...I kid you not.
Number to contact Doug directly:
(407) 303 5600
then press 1
then 1410238
I will post another entry tomorrow as soon as I know about the status of his discharge.
- Marjorie
Doug got admitted into the hospital 11pm on Wednesday evening with a temp of 101.4 F.
By the time they finished with his vitals and hooking him up to an IV, it was 2am and time for me to head home.
I talked to Doug this morning and they are keeping him for an extra day so a doctor from dangerous diseases can check him out before releasing him.
If you wish to go see him, he's at the Florida Hospital Orlando:
601 East Rollins Street
Orlando, Florida 32803
He's on the 10th floor, room 238
If you wish to contact him directly, use this number or you will be told that he has been discharged...I kid you not.
Number to contact Doug directly:
(407) 303 5600
then press 1
then 1410238
I will post another entry tomorrow as soon as I know about the status of his discharge.
- Marjorie
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Death of a Hero
My friend Robert Mudge finished his fight against cancer on Tuesday, 6 October 2009.
About two weeks before he died, Robert posted this message on Facebook:
To My Dear Family and Friends, I am getting ready to make one last journey. I have had a great life and you all made it the best a man could hope for. I wish I could spend more time here with everyone, but know I will still be watching and caring for you, just from a different place. Thanks for sharing your life with me. Love always, Robert
Memorial contributions can be made to the Hospice of the Comforter, 480 W. Central Parkway, Altamonte Springs, FL 32714.
About two weeks before he died, Robert posted this message on Facebook:
To My Dear Family and Friends, I am getting ready to make one last journey. I have had a great life and you all made it the best a man could hope for. I wish I could spend more time here with everyone, but know I will still be watching and caring for you, just from a different place. Thanks for sharing your life with me. Love always, Robert
Memorial contributions can be made to the Hospice of the Comforter, 480 W. Central Parkway, Altamonte Springs, FL 32714.
Weasel Boy
So I managed to weasel out of treatment on 5 October 2009. This was partly because I weighed in at 138 pounds, but mostly because I had a fever of 101 degrees.
Normally, the doctors and nurses tell you that you need to call in immediately if your temperature gets over 100.5. (The implication is that they will then send your butt to the hospital.)
Luckily for me, Dr. G (my oncologist) asked me if I wanted to go the hospital or just have my blood drawn at the treatment center and then go home. I picked "draw blood and go home". So the very nice nurses proceeded to draw my blood - lots of it. I ended up "giving" four bottles of blood that looked a lot like Tabasco bottles (especially when they were full).
Later that week they called to say all of the tests came back negative for infection and that the cancer in my liver may be what is causing my fever.
So, now I have yet another symptom/side-effect to deal with. Fun!
Normally, the doctors and nurses tell you that you need to call in immediately if your temperature gets over 100.5. (The implication is that they will then send your butt to the hospital.)
Luckily for me, Dr. G (my oncologist) asked me if I wanted to go the hospital or just have my blood drawn at the treatment center and then go home. I picked "draw blood and go home". So the very nice nurses proceeded to draw my blood - lots of it. I ended up "giving" four bottles of blood that looked a lot like Tabasco bottles (especially when they were full).
Later that week they called to say all of the tests came back negative for infection and that the cancer in my liver may be what is causing my fever.
So, now I have yet another symptom/side-effect to deal with. Fun!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Size Zero?
Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
"The Bug"
Mark Knopfler
For the last two weeks, I have definitely been the bug. The new "everything including the kitchen sink" treatment is kicking my ass. At my oncologist's appointment two weeks ago, 8 September 2009, when I weighed in, I was 146 pounds. Yesterday I was 137. (Clearly I need to eat more lard.)
In addition to having zero energy and being nauseous all of the time, I also managed to have diarrhea and constipation at the same time. I won't go into the details, but it was confusing, weird, and just plain gross.
Dr. G has cut back my chemo drugs by 20% this round, so maybe I won't be the bug this next two weeks. We shall see.
Sometimes you're the bug
"The Bug"
Mark Knopfler
For the last two weeks, I have definitely been the bug. The new "everything including the kitchen sink" treatment is kicking my ass. At my oncologist's appointment two weeks ago, 8 September 2009, when I weighed in, I was 146 pounds. Yesterday I was 137. (Clearly I need to eat more lard.)
In addition to having zero energy and being nauseous all of the time, I also managed to have diarrhea and constipation at the same time. I won't go into the details, but it was confusing, weird, and just plain gross.
Dr. G has cut back my chemo drugs by 20% this round, so maybe I won't be the bug this next two weeks. We shall see.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Status Update
I went to see my oncologist, Dr. G, on Monday, 24 August 2009.
The good news is my weight is up to 142.8 pounds.
The bad news is that was the only good news.
The results of the PET scan show that Frank's evil little minions are spreading: the spots in my liver and right lung have gotten bigger, I now have a spot in my left lung, a couple of my lymph nodes in my abdomen have spots, and my left hip bone and sternum have spots too. (This last one explains why I constantly feel like I've been punched in the chest.)
So, what's next?
Not urn shopping.
We're going to try everything all at once: the erbitux, camptosar, and the 5FU (via the fun take-home pump). The difference this time is we are going to more aggressively manage the side effects. Treatments will be every two weeks, so hopefully I feel somewhat human every other week.
Also, if the pain in my sternum gets too bad, I might go in for more radiation.
This cancer stuff is more fun than a kick in the head! (But not really.)
The good news is my weight is up to 142.8 pounds.
The bad news is that was the only good news.
The results of the PET scan show that Frank's evil little minions are spreading: the spots in my liver and right lung have gotten bigger, I now have a spot in my left lung, a couple of my lymph nodes in my abdomen have spots, and my left hip bone and sternum have spots too. (This last one explains why I constantly feel like I've been punched in the chest.)
So, what's next?
Not urn shopping.
We're going to try everything all at once: the erbitux, camptosar, and the 5FU (via the fun take-home pump). The difference this time is we are going to more aggressively manage the side effects. Treatments will be every two weeks, so hopefully I feel somewhat human every other week.
Also, if the pain in my sternum gets too bad, I might go in for more radiation.
This cancer stuff is more fun than a kick in the head! (But not really.)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Now with less nasty Taste!
On Monday, 17 August 2009, I went in for yet another PET scan.
Typically, the process involves:
1. getting injected with a radioactive sugar solution
2. drinking a cup of "contrast" solution
3. waiting 90 minutes for the sugar solution to circulate
4. drinking another cup of contrast solution
5. getting a 20 minute CT scan
Normally the contrast solution tastes like stale, moldy ass juice. However, my nurse had good news for me: the solution tasted better now. And he was right; it tasted like light sugar water with just a hint of ass juice.
Now this may not seem like such a big deal, but after spending the last year and a half being poked, prodded, sliced, diced, poisoned, and fed various noxious things, I'll take any improvement I can get.
Typically, the process involves:
1. getting injected with a radioactive sugar solution
2. drinking a cup of "contrast" solution
3. waiting 90 minutes for the sugar solution to circulate
4. drinking another cup of contrast solution
5. getting a 20 minute CT scan
Normally the contrast solution tastes like stale, moldy ass juice. However, my nurse had good news for me: the solution tasted better now. And he was right; it tasted like light sugar water with just a hint of ass juice.
Now this may not seem like such a big deal, but after spending the last year and a half being poked, prodded, sliced, diced, poisoned, and fed various noxious things, I'll take any improvement I can get.
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