…to the show that never ends. This morning was our appointment with the oncologist to get the results of Carole’s latest set of scans and to get some answers as to why she is feeling so crappy lately. I’ll be concise: Carole still has the same number of growths as her last scan in May. The growths are the same
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You know, my wife has suffered a lot of physical losses in her battle against cancer. In case you’re new to this blog, she lost her sacrum, feet of intenstines, her left eye, and she had a significant heart attack on the operating table that has weakened her heart. After all that sacrifice, cancer was found in her lungs. Currently,
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As I expressed on a Facebook post this morning, Carole’s physical condition doesn’t always allow her to have chemotherapy on schedule, specifically because of her white blood cell count being at the bottom or slightly below the doctor’s threshold. Today was a typical chemo day; Carole had an appointment with the doctor to determine if she would allow her to
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Carole started her chemotherapy fourteen months after her sacrectomy, the surgery that replaced with lower back with titanium. A “healthy” patient typically receives chemo on a three-week schedule (one week of chemo, two weeks off). Because of Carole’s weakened post-surgical condition her schedule was modified to half-doses in week one and two followed by a week off. Even this proved
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I do dumb things. I typically don’t do dumb things intentionally, and that’s probably the only saving grace about the dumb things I often do, but today I did something dumber than usual. This will not set a world record as the dumbest thing a human has ever done, but it’s something of a recent personal record. I thought that
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The blog has been quiet for a while, but life has not. After a break, my wife is back into her chemotherapy regimen. Her oncologist has been merciful and changed the schedule to one week on, one week off. This allows my wife to bounce back a little before getting hammered down again by the poison. Her “off” weeks offer
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She cannot walk down the hall to the restroom without help, or stopping to rest. I have been caring for her to the best of my ability for eighteen months with virtually no break, yet there are those who judge how I take of her and find me wanting. I am even judged by them in my own home. Just
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Pain sculpts your face as your head gently creases the pillow. You close your eyes and hope for sleep, I sit near and struggle to breathe. My impotence suffocates me, I am drowning. Life again weighs heavily on us both, but we will lift it again. Somedays I lift more, most days you lift it all. Pain
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For those of you who thought that it was far too long between blog posts about Carole’s condition and progress…you were right. We were just as frustrated. Carole had a break from her chemo regimen for scans and a re-evaluation of the plan. The most current scans were compared to previous scans, and the news was no news at all.
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The dwelling is available as soon as you watch your loved one’s gurney being pushed down a sterile hall to a place you cannot follow, or each time the nurse calls their name. It’s immaculate except for the pillars of salt left by the tears of the fortunate ones, those who’ve only spent one season here. The ones who return
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