nonamedufus

In the 60s Jefferson Airplane sang "one pill makes you larger, one pill makes you small".  In the 70s Steve Martin exhorted "Let's get small". Funny, I seemed to enjoy these references much more when I was younger.  These days I'm just south of 60 and am on so many prescribed pills I can almost relate to the above catch-phrases.  Today's catch phrase, unfortunately, is "may cause...". Have you noticed a) the deluge of drug commercials on American television lately and, b) how many spend half their air time discussing the possible side-effects? The euphemisms for these impacts other than what the drugs were intended for include "unwanted effects" and "adverse drug event". This makes me laugh, considering some of the effects. Let me quote from www.merck.com: Most drugs produce several effects. ... Not surprisingly, adverse drug reactions are common. ... Digestive disturbances - loss of appetite, nausea, a bloating sensat...

Since my stem cell transplant in April I've been doing my best to improve my strength. And while my recovery has been fairly quick, I'm not as strong as I'd like to be. From time to time I go for walks around the block. We have a big block. It takes about half-an-hour to get around it. I'll go for a swim in the pool. I'll go shopping with my wife. Wow, I sure get a lot of walking in then. But to be honest, most days the only thing I really exercise is my fingers...on my keyboard. Writing three blogs and contributing to several others keeps me fairly occupied. My creative process is aided by music. In the morning I'll plop 5 CDs into the CD changer and I'm good to go for at least half a day. Used to be the exercise I got was walking from the family room, through the kitchen to the music room to choose my day's music and then back again.  When my doctor asked me if I was staying active, I'd say "You betcha".  Now though, I keep a stash of 1...

Prior to my recent stem cell transplant in April I spent four days undergoing radiation treatments.  Knowing I would lose my hair I prepared myself by getting my hair buzzed off.  But not too short.  The barber used a #4 clipper. But the radiation treatments were delayed.  My hair grew.  And several weeks after the last radiation session I started to lose my hair.  But it looked pretty weird - short here, long there - so back to the barbers to get a buzz with a #1 clipper so that it would all be the same length. This is a big change for me.  I'm used to longer hair, making a trip to the barber maybe three times a year.  But now I'm basically bald.  I wear a ball cap, not just to keep the sun off my head, but also out of modesty.  If I didn't wear the cap I'd surely feel conspicuous, think people were looking at me or worse, yet, laughing behind my back. I needn't worry.  My own family laughs right in front of me!  My own...

But Software Can Sure Exaggerate When I spent a couple of weeks in the hospital back in April, following my stem cell transplant I wanted to let my family and friends know how my recovery was progressing.  So I snapped a couple of pictures of myself so they could see for themselves. My doctors think they've discovered what my problem is. Now for some reason I didn't get a lot of replies to this note.  No one seemed to notice my head had shrunk significantly. So the next day I sent the following... Any ill effects from your radiation?  None whatsoever! Hey, the camera doesn't lie! For a look at how other Theme Thursday participants covered off "camera" just click here .

It's been a long haul. Let's see - a week of radiation followed by a stem cell transplant. Two weeks in the hospital. Almost two weeks home now. Whew! You know, the radiation treatments were two hours a session, twice a day, for four days. I was in and out of that claustrophobia-inducing gadget more than a drunken rabbit on a viagra overdose. Machine with which I had an intimate relationship. Then I was admitted to the hospital because I had a fever. The doctors were worried about infection. Little did I know I'd be there for two weeks. Too much time in a hospital can play tricks on your mind. For example, I kept wanting to call the disembodied voice at the other end of the call-button "Base Commander". Must have been the drugs - or that I'd loaded up on several seasons of Battlestar Galactica before my stay. I resisted the urge. And I loved it when the nurse would come around at 11pm after I'd fallen into a deep sleep at 8pm to tel...

As much as I hate to do this, I fear I have little choice.  My little blog here is going dark for the next little while.  After several delays, I start the radiation treatments for my cancer today - 2 sessions a day - until Friday when I have my stem cell transplant. This intense therapy will likely knock me off my feet awhile - say, several weeks or so to say the least.  I'll let you guys know when I'm back but in the interim there'll likely be very little activity on my blogs, Facebook or Twitter. Like the bishop said to the one-eyed call girl, I hope you'll keep an eye out for my return.  I'll miss everyone and look forward to seeing you all again soon. Cheers!

Around here we may still have a couple of weeks to go before spring officially arrives but for all intents and purposes it's here.  We've got double-digit temperatures, people in short sleeves, outdoor beer pubs, the skating rink on the canal closed down, and with our days filled with glowing sunshine, the snow is melting faster than water down a drain.  That's the good news. The not so good news is it feels like forever waiting for my radiation appointments.  Last week I spent some time at the hospital for tests and bloodwork.  I had a pulmonary session - blowing into a tube with graphs catching my lung strength on a computer - an EKG and a heart scan - an ultrasound, which was kinda cool.  Yesterday I was back again for a bone scan.  But still no word on a date for my radiation sessions, followed by my bone marrow transplant. By way of reminder, I have multiple myeloma, a kind of cancer that affects the bone marrow and the blood.  If you want a r...

Barry Fraser over at An Explorer's View of Life has cancer.  The members of Theme Thursday are helping him mark a milestone this week.  Regular readers of my blog know about my bout with cancer, my undergoing chemo since October and the radiation and stem cell transplant yet to come.  You can catch up on my ordeal my clicking on the cancer2 label at the bottom of this post.  But Barry is doing his last scheduled chemo treatment this afternoon and when he's done he's going to ring this: Go to Barry's blog and see what that's all about. Good luck Barry, and to all those undergoing cancer treatment.  Cancer is an insidious disease and we've got to find a cure. For a close family member and even closer friend that cure couldn't come soon enough.  She slipped from us earlier this week.  So here's my bell, a last bell if you would, for her...and for her partner and best friend. A Consoling Poem About Death: Death Is Nothing At All Death is nothin...

My cancer treatment was stepped up somewhat last week when I visited the hospital for a scan.  The scan is one of several in preparation for radiation therapy or,  to be precise, what's called tomo therapy .  This is pretty leading-edge stuff.  It was developed at City of Hope Hospital in California and has only been performed for several years.  My hospital is the only one in Canada doing this therapy and according to my doctors I am only the second person in the country to undergo such treatment.  Heady stuff. My dear wife drove me to the hospital for the scan.  I changed into a hospital gown and waited for them to call me.  In the scan room I met about 5 different technicians, including a student technician.  The procedure was explained to me by one of the technicians.  The first thing they would do would take a mould of my body, from head to toe.  The idea is to develop the mould so I won't move when the radiation is precisely...

It's been a while since I've updated folks on where my cancer's at.  Well, it's still right where it was before.  The latest development, though, is a drop in my hemoglobin levels which unfortunately makes me anemic.  So I've been kinda tired lately; little energy for anything; poor appetite.  But I'm on a new medication that should help me with that. But my doctor's seem pleased with my lab results.  The chemo appears to be having an impact, apart from making me feel like crap.  I've been on the chemo since October.  Funny, eh?  It's like the worse I feel the better I am.  But I'm not fooling myself.  Yet to be scheduled is the radiation and a bone marrow transplant.  So the real fun is yet to come. Did you hear about the guy who's doctor told him he had cancer and only 6 months to live?  When he asked the doctor what he should do the doc said move to Saskatoon and live with an economist.  The guys says, "Will that ma...

The best way to describe what I experienced the other night is this reference from Alice in Wonderland . I really know of no other way to explain it. After 6 weeks of chemo, the effects of the drugs have expanded beyond the insomnia on the days immediately following my chemo to vivid dreams, almost bordering on hallucinations later in the week. I think the sustained toxicity of these chemicals is starting to have an impact. I take my chemo drugs on Monday. Usually, Monday and Tuesday nights I have difficulty sleeping. This week when I hit Wednesday I was pretty tired. I had chills, so early in the evening I put on my pajamas and settled down on the couch, under a blanket to watch TV. Come 9 o'clock I was off to bed. I slept in fits and starts. I awoke at 11. Again at 12:30. Then once more around 2 a.m. Then around 4 and again about 6 and I finally got up about 7. It was a rough night. I tossed and turned...and dreamed. And boy, this was better than going to the movies...

Well, this is my 5th week of chemo and my 2nd periodic update. Chemo consists of 5 decadron pills and 10 procytox pills - the toxic twins - every Monday morning. In my first go-round with the beast 2 years ago my chemotherapy was intravenous. The pills are more convenient - no weekly trips to the hospital - but they're no less effective. And the treatment brings with it the same wonderful side effects. The biggest side effect is lack of energy. The couch and I have a most intimate relationship these days and are on a first-name basis. The second is insomnia, particularly the first 2-3 nights after chemo. Hello, again, couch. I'd have to say the third effect is an increased appetite but that's neutralized by a distinct lack of taste. As in tasting food - I still can't dress myself appropriately. And finally, I notice a diminished ability to focus over an extended period of time. Wha? What was I just saying? The other Toxic Twins Before I zone out completely, d...

This "scary" story might have been better told last week during Humor Blogger Dot Com's Halloween Carnival. But last week was for frighteningly funny tales, not ones that bring you down. The shock and "awe, shit" has passed...somewhat. My hematologist called me in to his office two-and-half weeks ago and it wasn't for a game of dominoes. Two years ago, almost to the day, I underwent a bone marrow transplant. It was the termination of a long six months of chemotherapy and was intended to rid my body of the cancerous multiple myeloma . Well, it's back. This development is not uncommon and I shouldn't be surprised. As the doctors explained it to me, I'll always have multiple myeloma - it's just a matter of degree of severity. That's the bad news. The good news is that while multiple myeloma isn't curable it is containable. Nevertheless it's a bummer. Ironically, with all the twists and turns this blog has taken over the las...