News from Auburn Thu Nov 13, 2008
In this
issue:
Advice when in a medical
environment
Health
update
Supersize me - why God gave me
cancer?
And now for some fun conversations of
the week
Dare I say it: the week has been
... uneventful. Boring. Content.
Ahhh.
I've sat at my computer
editing a student's thesis (much slower going than I'd like), writing two books,
working on simulations, and napping. It's been a good
week.
Advice when in a medical
environment
I omitted some of last week's
drama, mostly because it was caused by my own stupidity. Viva asked me
regularly if my stool (poo) was black and tarry. I didn't think that was
an accurate description, so I said "no."
Mistake #1.
Two units of plasma and four
units of red blood cells later, Viva asked me again, "Have you had any bowel
movements?"
Three
"Were
they black and
tarry?"
Yes
"Did
you tell
anyone?"
No
Mistake
#2.
Now, at this point, I can tell you
the look on the face of every reader of my newsletter who is in the medical
field. If looks could kill
...
Some reactions to this
story:
My youngest sister, Heather, who works
as a cardiac nurse: Did you slap him silly for not reporting it to the nurse?
What the heck is he in the hospital for anyways if not for
observation!!!!! ... People like him drive me nuts at the
hospital. "Well, yes, I was having chest pain all night long doctor, but
the nurse seemed so busy."
I wrote back
that "All nurses here concur with your opinion of patients who don't
report their symptoms. You have a fan
club."
She answered, "glad to know you've set
the record straight and let the nurses know that your entire family isn't made
of idiots- you know, that it's just
you!"
Tuesday I went to see Dr. Graves
for a follow-up appointment for last week's hospitalization. Viva related
the story to her as the appointment ended. Oh, was that a
Kodak moment!
Health
update
By the way, my blood work on
Tuesday was as normal as one could ask for. My hemoglobin was 13.8 -
highest it's been that I can remember! - and my clotting times were also
normal (actually a little faster than desired).
In terms of my recovery
schedule, I asked Dr. Graves what I could expect in the future, and her answer
was that there's no way to know right now. First, we need to get me weaned
off of steroids and oxygen. (We'll be doing that, carefully, for the next
month or two.) After that, an assessment will be made of whether or not to
do a bone marrow transplant. If yes, 2009 will be another tough year.
Either way, I have a lot of physical rehab to do to rebuild muscle mass,
endurance, etc.
On Dr. Graves'
orders, I've started to exercise a bit more aggressively now. After the
look I got on Tuesday, I don't dare ignore Doctor's orders!
:-)
Supersize me - why God gave me
cancer?
This week my friend Tom and I
went to Wendy's for lunch. That's my first fast food in quite awhile,
especially since I watched the documentary Supersize Me. All I've
ordered from McDonald's in the last month or so is unsweet tea. (a huge cup for
only $1! Can't beat that!) Anyway, I decided to have a hamburger, a
salad, and an unsweet tea.
Hamburger.
Nasty. Ick. Bleah.
Ugh!
After eating healthy for a
few weeks, the fat, grease, whatever was in the burger was awful. When I
got home I told Viva and Adam about my reaction and they said, "Now we know why
God gave you cancer - to get you to eat
healthy!"
PLEASE don't make me give up
deep dish pizza at Papa Dell's!
And
now for some fun conversations of the
week
Viva: (seeing me early in the
morning) "Are you sick? You're pink!"
Me: "My skin is the same color as
yours."
Apparently she's become accustomed to
being married to a pasty-white
zombie!
On the
phone:
Me: "It's nice to be able to laugh
without passing out."
Walking the
dog.
Me: "Aimee, I can't walk that fast, so
either quit pulling or we go home." (Didn't work.) "HEAL!"
(She stops and gives me sweet puppy dog
eyes.)
Kayla was sick today, so I took
her to the doctor.
Conversations:
"Daddy, you know how you
can be sick so that you feel fine when you hold still but then you feel icky
when you start doing anything?"
I know
exactly what you mean.
"Oh,
right."
She later held up a band-aid
where they'd pricked her finger to get a blood
sample.
I held out my left arm, still bruised
from the many needles and IV's of last
week.
"ARGH!"
At
home that night:
"I feel like I've wasted my
day!"
I feel like I've wasted my
year.
"ARGH! I'M NOT TALKING TO YOU
ANYMORE!"
Posted: Thu - November 13, 2008 at 05:48 PM
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