Saturday Is No Park or Picnic
S -A -T-U-R SATURDAY NIGHT!
Saturday used to mean something different than it does today. Saturday used to mean shows, and music, and drinking and music, and going out on the town.
Now Saturday, falling as it does after Friday and the rest of the week, brings home the culmination of treatments. It is no fun. By Saturday, my throat and tongue are fried, or microwaved. To be be precise, they are radioactive, vibrating with burning sensations, and a swollen swallow. My teeth are full on nerves, while my lips and tongue are somewhat numb, bombarded as they were with all that radiation.
This past week, I was given an IV four out of five days. Lots of searching for the lost vein. The issue is, without proper hydration, your veins get smaller, and can even go flat. So a bit of trial and trial.
One nurse, I call her the Blood Whisperer, seems to have a knack for finding the right vein. Most of the time with this procedure, the prick goes in on the front of the hand or just past the wrist. There are lots of nerves and very little flesh there. So while the initial point of the needle is usually not so bad, as they drive it in further, the pain kicks in.
To deal with pain, I have some Dilaudid, which I have yet to use. WHAT!
I can already hear some of you going, “ Are you daft man? What is the wait for? Real medical Dilaudid and you haven’t even tried it?”
By Saturday, the focus is on my mouth, throat and stomach ( nausea, hiccups, burps, did I say nausea, gagging). Surprisingly pain, while present, is not my focus. It’s just all about getting enough food and water in, so I don’t lose too much weight.
Today I am 167 lbs. Normally, my weight is between 175- 178. So I am down 7-10 lbs. Most visibly, you see it in my face, as there is a fullness missing, particularly in the chin area. I have new wrinkles, which presumably will recede as the weight returns. All said, my symptoms are not as bad as many. So I try to accept everything and keep moving.
As I said previously, my cancer is HPV related and is one of the more “curable” cancers. There are only 12 more treatments scheduled. Then an assessment will take place I assume. The weeks after treatment are supposed to be difficult as well for another 3-5 weeks. It’s not like suddenly one day after treatments, you are cancer-free, ready to scream from the rooftops, “ I AM WOMAN- HEAR ME ROAR!!!”
Clearly, I am not Reddy, nor do any sex changes loom in my future. In fact sex is abstract at this point. They say you can have it, as long as you wear a condom, but I’m radioactive, not sexually active at this point. I’m full of chemo, not desire. It’s not something you want to share, because it’s all so personal and good. NOT.
Something to look forward to. Like tasting maple syrup, or butter, or limes, or soy sauce, or a fresh strawberry. I can still smell all of these, but no flavour. Just a dull yearning for the days to come, when hopefully the taste, along with the swallows, return to Capistrano. Or Minestrone. Or panettone, pancetta, prosciutto, hell, I’d be up for a fried placenta - if I could taste the garlic.
There are other senses. Imagination runs wild with blinders on, and scissors extended. Like the children’s masterpiece of horror, Der Struwwelpeter, an illustrated book portraying children misbehaving, by German psychologist Heinrich Hoffmann. Translated into English it was Slovenly Peter. We have an ancient edition given to us children from my Nana, who I think was a teacher.
The illustration above shows what happens to bad boys who suck their thumbs. A long legged man with giant shears will chase you and cut off those offending thumbs.
My Mother used to paint my thumb with Mercurochrome, chief ingredient being Mercury. “That will teach him!,” She thought. But foiled again, Mom. I would just switch to the other thumb, then gravitate back to the painted one, to suck all that great tasting mercury.
Is this what the kids of today, with all their allergies, NT/ ND wars, immunity and identity issues need? They need to eat more dirt and suck on some mercury thumbs.
Here I am down to my last three bites of a fluffy pancake with a fried egg on top. My second pancake! I am an active follower of the “moving your food around the plate” diet, so favoured by rich woman who wear only white.
The Real Palm Springs Life Eternal Diet.
We started watching a new show last night on Apple called The Crowded Room, with Tom Holland and Amanda Seyfried. It is very good. The original story is based on The Many Minds of Billy Milligan by Daniel Keyes. Hey wait a minute! Didn’t he write Flowers for Algernon? Made into the movie Charly? Played so brilliantly by Cliff Robertson? So overplayed by a young Dennis Mills at Steveston High School?
Before I changed my specialty to playing Psychos, I had a raging high school career playing mentally challenged killers and geniuses. Some things never change.
Music to check out includes Shadows in the Night by Bob Dylan. Tim Sommer wrote a good piece in Rock Globe. You can read it here.
Thank you again to my patrons, sponsors and readers.