That’s right. The Bugs Bunny eyes made a 12-hour return over the Thanksgiving holiday. They surely were the only thing that made me laugh, at least through the beginning of the looooooooooong weekend. My first weekend since the end of radiation, which was Wednesday. One of my docs mentioned that things could get worse after treatment ends. I told Patrick I couldn’t see how it could possibly get worse. Why do I keep saying things like that?
I’ve now been getting an IV of 1-2 liters of saline at Huntsman every day, since drinking is a painful and torturous ordeal. At the rate I am able to get water down my gullet, it would take two days to properly hydrate myself. Sip-cringe, sip-cringe, sip-cringe. I can’t stand myself. On another note, I can actually get down cups of lukewarm coffee. THAT is my caffeine addiction trumping my pain threshold. I love coffee sooooooooo much..
On Wednesday, I was getting my IV, and Dr. Akerley popped in to say hello. (Somehow he managed not to see me through the whole chemo ordeal, but showed up after chemo was finished and my hair didn’t all fall out. Very strategic. I told you he’s a smart man.) I won’t lie, the pain from my irradiated esophagus is really bad, even though it technically came from friendly fire. It hurts to eat, drink, swallow, laugh too hard (I’m in trouble here), lie down, sit down, slouch, sit up straight, or have 12-pounds of Emmitt Smith perched on me. Codeine barely files off the edges of the stalagmite (tite?) in my chest. The nurse gave me a couple of Percocet (HORRORS!), but they are as big as frisbees and they gave me the shivers. I’m scared of them.
Dr. Akerley had an alternative. It’s called Fentanyl. It’s a pain killing patch that takes about 12 hours to start working and I quote: “The vast majority of people tolerate it with no nausea.” I was cautiously optimistic. It took almost exactly 12 hours to firmly establish myself in the small minority. I couldn’t keep anything down. I didn’t keep anything down and have no idea what was coming back up. Thanksgiving was a bust. And the narcotic lunatic Bugs Bunny eyes made a return. I think I scared my cats with my crazed appearance. No more narcotics for me. I’ll manage the next 7-10 days (that’s how long it’s supposed to be til I START noticing recovery from the radiation) with the weinie Codeine, the Lidocaine mixture, and Advil.
There is still the problem of not eating. My weight falls about a half-pound a day (I don’t recommend it. Terrible diet plan), but it’s not for lack of trying. Patrick opened the refrigerator door the other day and observed that there’s a LOT of half-eaten food in there. Soup, mac and cheese, spaghetti with butter, Kefir, etc, etc. I have been ambitious about eating, but ultimately mostly unsuccessful.
Let me throw a paragraph about caregivers here. Patients do their thing, but this is a hard time for family and friends. They can feel helpless. My mom was just here for a few days. What moms want to do is feed you, but she was thwarted, for the most part. A general, even though sincere, offer to “do anything you need” will rarely elicit a specific task. So offer a specific favor: “I’m going to Salt Lake, can I take you to the hospital?” (Thanks, Martha!). “I made some really soft cookies, I’m bringing them by.” (Thanks, Debbie!). You get the idea. You may still not get assigned a job, but I think you improve your odds of getting to help. (P.S. My mom finally did get to make miso soup for me, which was much appreciated.)
So now, I am Inigo Montoya after finally tracking down the six-fingered man. Inigo has been stabbed multiple times. He’s bloody and wounded and in pain. But then, suddenly, things turn around. (Do I need to mention that I’m talking about “The Princess Bride?” I will then, for the 2 people who can’t quote huge swaths of dialogue from it. This is a scene from “The Princess Bride.” Rent it. Buy it. Borrow it.) One of these mornings, things will turn around for me, too. I’m going to wake up and be able to shove a whole, hot Pop Tart in my Pop Tart hole and wash it down with a giant glass of cold orange juice. Fast. As I wish.
This is the size of the plate of sharp, cruncy, pointy Nachos I’m going to eat VERY SOON.
Wendy,
I have been following your blog, I’m 3 years out chemo. and radiation. My heart goes out to you, you are in my prayers.
I went through everything you have gone through and are currently going through. My wt. loss was around 30-35 pounds and I started out under wt. The only thing that helped me was weed! It took the pain away, the nausea away and I could EAT ! With in hours I was feeling much better. Only did it once that was all it took. This is only FYI
Wendy….you make me laugh and cry at the same time. The laughter that comes through the pain let’s us know that your strength and determination will bring this to pass. Praying for your continued strength and know that your beautiful bugs bunny eyes make so many people smile. Love you Wendy.