It is time for us to pretend that we are 80 years old and sitting in the park. We can be playing chess or feeding the birds – that is your call. Now having set the scene, we can now talk about health. I mean sometimes I feel that is all I throw at you, but it is a major part in my life right now. Just when I talk about it, I start to feel like one of those crusty old curmudgeons obsessed with his ailments. Believe me, if I could get rid of certain issues, I would be more than happy not to talk about them.
On the cancer front, all is good. My September check up was fine. Chest x-ray was clear, and my blood work was excellent – the marker they look at should be between 1 and 2, and mine was 1.4 so we danced around the living room when I got the results.
I was supposed to have my October check up on Halloween (had a wonderful Jack-o-lantern costume planned for the former home of Leon and current home of Robespierre) but that appointment was cancelled (Dr. Beck had to move the start of his vacation to Halloween) and my appointment was moved to November 13. Many patients would be mad if an appointment was moved, but not me. I want the happiest and well-rested doctor possible checking me out. I am a little pissed that Dr. Beck did not send a postcard, but maybe next time. I mean, you feel rather close to the man who holds your one remaining ball in his hands once a month.
Tomorrow (Thursday), Caren and I will head on down to the IU Hospital in Indianapolis. It will be a decent trip, and we will start off our trip with a quick trip to Burger King for our traveling in the car tradition – a large Diet Coke for Caren and a BK Mocha Java Joe for me. Usually, Caren does not go with me for my monthly visit because I usually just have a chest x-ray and blood work. However, this check-up includes one particular test I have grown to fear. That is why I get my special BK Mocha Java Joe – sort of an act of bribery on Caren’s part to get me in the car.
When we started going to the IU Hospital, the Cancer Center was under construction, and we always had to travel through the bowels of the hospital to get to where we
needed to be (hospital basements are fascinating, by the way). Now we go to the newly opened Simon Cancer Center – an absolutely beautiful building on the inside. In fact, you forget that it is a hospital. We will check-in, and I will get my sheet of bar codes. We will head down to the CT scan place, and I will trade one of my “magic barcode” stickers for a gigantic cup (about half a gallon) of extra sweet fruit punch that I have to drink a certain amount of every 30 minutes. The process takes about 2 hours to drink all the stuff. During that time, I will head upstairs and give another “magic bar code” to the people in Radiology and I will have my chest x-ray. Then it is back to the basement where they hide their CT scanners, where Caren and I will sit and wait for the CT scan from HELL! Luckily, I only have this test every three months, and this happens to be the lucky month! Over the years, I have tried to be a good patient and deal with medical tests without complaint, but the CT scan really gets to me. I am fine during everything with the CT scan until they take the very last scan of the lymph nodes in my pelvic area. Before the last scan, they inject me with a dye that feels very hot, and I can feel it flowing slowly through my body – sort of the up one side and down the other feeling. While this lava flows through my body, I start to feel like I am going to throw-up. Seriously. This is the first time EVER I have hated a medical test to the point that I do not ever want to have this test again. Mind you, this whole process takes about 60 seconds, but that last 20 seconds is HELL, and I almost left them with quite a mess all over their bazillion dollar CT machine. Luckily, the feeling goes away just as quickly as it originally hits you – and in about 5 minutes or so, you are feeling pretty much like you were before the lava injection.
So think of me Thursday morning and send all the mental good wishes and warm fuzzies that you can. I hope that I will not dirty the expensive machine.
Then after the CT scan, it is up to the third floor of the Cancer Center and visit Dr. Beck and the most fantastic team of nurses around. One of the nurses will come in and take my blood, and then Caren and I will sit and wait for Dr. Beck. After about 15 minutes, there will be a knock on the door, and in will fly Dr. Beck like a hummingbird on crack. I will fluster him this visit by asking him about his vacation (I will update you as to where he went). Personal questions fluster Dr. Beck, and I like doing that. He will check on the Ghost of Leon and Robespierre (he actually refers to them by their correct names. Then he will begin to pound on my shoulders like football players do before a football game. He really does not pound, but he checks certain nodes at the top of the chest and neck, and he actually tries to get in deep. He will then say that all looks good (we hope), I am free to go, and see ya’ next month.
I will call Dr. Beck’s office on Friday, and they will tell me the results of my tests the day before. If all went well with the tests, we schedule an appointment for December. If there is a problem, we schedule an appointment for the following week. It is a simple system: Monthly visits “GOOD!” Weekly visits “BAD!”
Now, remember that we are on the park bench. I say this, as this entry is getting rather lengthy, and we have not touched on the real health issues that are causing problems. Heck, the cancer stuff is a breeze. The fibromyalgia and arthritis are becoming the big problem.
Over the years, I have developed an amazingly high threshold for pain – at least that is what all the doctors always say. However, the past couple of months have been horrible in the pain department. This particular type of pain is not like a joint hurting here and there. I have been experiencing a type of pain that comes from within and it makes you feel like the bones, joints, muscles, everything hurts with a pain that is always there. Sometimes it hurts so much that it is as if your eyebrows even hurt. On some days, it is manageable. Other days it is horrible. After working and working with my great doctor here in Kokomo, we have found a combination of medicines that seem to make it so that horrible days are becoming rare. The only issue we have been unable to address is the incredible feeling of exhaustion and fatigue that is always with me.
Yet, with all of the going on, I am thankful for my friends and family who keep my spirit up and tolerate me when I am “Mr. Grump Grump” and am not feeling too well. I also should take this moment to beg forgiveness from everyone who has sent an email to me and it goes unanswered. I have good intentions, but within about 10 minutes of messing with email, I am typing with one eye closed and one eye open (like I am now) as Mr. Sandman tries to take hold of me. Be patient with me. Everything will be answered eventually.
I am also most thankful to Caren. We as people often spend so much time focusing on “the patient” if you will, that we forget to remember the person taking care of that patient – the good ol’ CAREGIVER. In this case, it is Caren. She is fantastic. She puts up with me when I “hurt” and hate the world. She knows how to get me to calm down and rest or go to sleep. She gives me hugs when I need them and a good swift kick in the ass when I need that, too. I truly am the lucky one in all of this. It is difficult to put in to words the love I feel for Caren, and I know that just as the daily difficulties of my disease are hard on me, they are often harder on Caren. Caren has a fantastic soul and I do not think I could find a more loving person with whom to spend my life. I must say, I lucked out in the wife department! So, be sure to take the time to thank that important person in your life for all the little things she or he does for you.
And for now, I must admit that Mr. Sandman has won this battle today, and I need to go to sleep.
Until next time (and I promise it will not be a month),
My best!
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