Is this the End?

My port has been removed, I am fully re-connected to my, slightly shorter, rectum and all of the tests I have taken have come back fine.  So, hopefully, that's it, all done!

I really don't think I will ever be all done!  The worry will always be there.  I've been through a lot of stuff since the diagnosis last October, and I'm still going to have to have precautionary scans and colonoscopies every few months to make sure that nothing is still hanging around or tries to sneak back.

I read through this blog again this morning - I'd forgotten a lot of stuff, and I think I might have over-worried some things, while under estimating others. 

I still can't feel my feet or the tips of my fingers properly because of some of the chemo drugs - it's no biggie really, but it is a constant reminder.  My digestive system has changed considerably - I'm still tentatively introducing new foods. Last night I made a dish that involved napa cabbage, red peppers and pork with a fairly spicy sauce - one or more of those things didn't sit well with my system and I felt the tenesmus symptoms again for much of the evening. 

It's not that debilitating, and I'm sure I will get to know how to avoid it and how better to deal with it in time.  If that is all I have to worry about going forward, then I think it's a pretty good deal. The fact that my ostomy did not have to be permanent is the biggest relief of the year - the 8 months of wearing that thing were not easy, believe me!

People have been wonderful to me throughout this experience - little messages in email or on Facebook can be really helpful in snapping you out of self-pity - so thanks for all the comments and likes, emails and kind words.

If I can help anyone by sharing my experiences, I would be more than happy to be put in touch with anyone who may be about to go through a similar experience.  I know that I found communicating with people who knew how it feels to be enormously helpful.

Rectal Tenesmus

Look, I'm a middle-class British bloke, OK?  We simply don't talk about this sort of stuff!  We ignore it and hope that it will go away - it's what we do!

Google it.  It's everything they say and worse.  The telling description on the wiki page is: "frequently painful and may be accompanied by involuntary straining"

You see?   How can I write a blog post about it?  I'm a middle-class British bloke!

I'm wearing adult diapers!  I am sitting on a warm pad.  The pain comes every 40 minutes or so at the moment - at which point I really need to be alone. I need to exercise because exercise helps, but if I walk too far, I'm scared I won't be able to get back should something happen - and while most of the time the pain results in nothing, there are times when.....well, I'm not going to spell it out!

The Wiki page also says "Methadone has been shown to be an effective pain-reliever".  Ha!

Reconnected

Second day in hospital coming to a close and I am feeling tender, but basically OK.  Just pain medication until the incision heals.  Thanks to everyone at Kaiser. Home tomorrow to complete recuperation and then I will no longer be a patient. I've forgotten what that feels like.

Another Long Gap. Happy Anniversary!

It's a year ago today that I got the word through that there was cancer in my rectum.  It's been quite a year!  There's been so much good stuff happening amongst the very very bad.

People have been wonderful - supporting me with words and deeds.  My family have been utterly wonderful. Both Evan and Finn have really helped, in many ways, to get me through - simple things like helping with cooking or going to the supermarket, understanding that I have needed to just crash out regularly and not arguing too much when it's time to go to bed.

Jean has been with me every step of the way, and I can't imagine what sort of state I would be in if it wasn't for her common-sense, calmness and occasional bullying.  Plus a lot of driving!  And hugs! Lots of hugs!
 
I've got dear dear friends and colleagues who have it so much worse than me that I can only be grateful that my experience with this disease has been comparatively smooth sailing - everything the specialists have told me may happen has happened, and I have followed their advice each step of the way. The nursing staff at Kaiser, especially in the infusion unit, have been patient, kind and touchingly caring.

There's been times when I've felt like a punchbag - I wouldn't wish the few days after Chemotherapy on anyone - but I've always known, and been constantly reassured, that following the treatment will get me through the other end, so I've just done whatever I've been told.

There is one more procedure to go, which is a very simple matter of reversing my ostomy and finally getting rid of this wretched bag (another thing I would never wish on even my worst enemy).  That is scheduled for October 30th and will entail a 3 to 5 day hospital stay and a, hopefully, short recovery period at home.  After that, I will no longer be a cancer patient, and just being free of those words is going to feel glorious, I can tell you!

Long gap - lots happened...

...but I'm not sure what to tell.

The delayed infusion session number 5 finally happened on June 2nd -nearly 3 weeks later than originally planned and the night before an EC show in Berkeley and a visit from our friends Melinda and Keith. I had to wimp out on the show, but  managed to wait up for their arrival and at least say hello.

Sunday we had planned a trip on a tram down in the city and were going to drop K & M at the airport on the way.  Traffic issues meant we missed the tram,  but got them to the airport on time.

Monday, we flew to Albuquerque.  This time we failed to get to the airport on time and had a five hour wait in beautiful Oakland. It was fine, though - Jean and I seem to be able to take these things in our stride without any drama.

We eventually got to New Mexico in one piece and drove to beautiful Santa Fe to one of the loveliest hotels I've stayed  in.  I was still getting over the chemo, so really couldn't take full advantage and Jean had to do the museum trips on her own.  We did manage to drive out to a lovely restaurant out of town and it was a really lovely stay.

On Wednesday I finally got to see the Imperial Bedroom and Other Chambers tour. Again, I struggled to last the evening and headed back to the hotel straight after the last encore.  We got a second wind and headed out for a beer later - this was the only Breaking Bad sightseeing we managed to do - it was a tiki bar that appeared in a drug-selling montage.

Next day I flew solo back to Oakland while Jean took a train to Indianapolis.  Travelling with an ostomy bag and a port means that you will always get the manual body search. Fortunately, the guys who did me were gentle and understanding - I guess they see a lot of us.  I was carrying the vape pen in my luggage and was a bit concerned that that would cause problems, but it was unfounded.

The next week was just me and the boys at home while Jean did the rest of her trip. I didn't achieve much, although I did manage to put a few hours work in each day.

Jean came back the following Saturday. Just in time for Chemo session number 6!  I was nervous about the blood test, but it was still OK.

I need to sort out my insurance,  as currently I don't appear to be covered and they have started sending me bills again. There are forms that need picking up from the hospital and stuff that needs to be signed at work, so I need to get my act together. I absolutely hate this country's health insurance arrangements - everything hangs by such a thin thread! If my employers decided they couldn't be bothered any more, I would be totally fucked - as it is, I'm going to have to foot a huge insurance bill for the next few months until I can get back to full time work.

Set-backs

It's been a while since I posted here.  Chemo session number 4 went off without a hitch.  The side effects were more prolonged and I never really felt back to 100%. However, we did manage to make it to a baseball game on the "off-week" Friday night.  We lasted until the end of the 7th and left with the scores level.  We then listened in the car as the game went into extra innings and ended up at home watching the Giants win on a walk-off homer in the bottom of the 17th!



The fun starts when I show up for my infusion session number 5.  It was an early appointment, so I had gone the day before to get the blood work done.  I'd noticed that there was a spike in one of the numbers, but I was not too worried.  After they had hooked up my port, the pharmacist came over and asked me what I'd been up to and if everything had been OK.  I said that I'd been feeling a bit rough for longer than usual and mentioned the baseball game.  He asked if I'd been drinking heavily - I replied honestly that I've not had more than a single beer on any one day - although I did  have one every day during the off-week.


So they decided that they needed to do more blood tests to verify the results of the previous day.  The spike had occurred in the ALT test, which measures liver function (hence the question about alcohol consumption).  I waited nervously while they sent off my blood to the labs again and an hour later they came back.  The numbers had dropped, but were still way out of the normal range. Dr Akhtar was consulted and his recommendation was to postpone for a week to let the numbers drop.  I managed to negotiate this down to the Friday of this week.  I'm really not wanting to delay any of the infusion sessions because of our carefully planned and timed trips to Albuquerque and England coming up.



So I spent the rest of the week working from home - I'm not achieving a lot, and it is hard to concentrate on it, but it is good to have my mind occupied with something other than how shit I'm feeling!

Then came Friday.  Went along to get the blood work done at 9:00 and waited around for the 10:30 appointment.  Test results were not good - the numbers had dropped again, but still were way out of the normal range.  Dr Akhtar was consulted again and he nixed the infusion session and ordered a CT scan of my liver.  I was able to book this for Friday afternoon at 2:30, which was a relief.  So I phoned Jean and dragged her down to pick me up, and then in the afternoon we headed back to Medical Imaging.  Once again, Jean helped me put things in perspective and stopped me from going into panic mode!  Her influence can't be over stated!

The CT scan was pretty straightforward - but they have to inject iodine into you to give the image contrast and because I have a port they need a qualified nurse there to deal with it.  They took a while finding one, but eventually we got started.  The nurse recognised me and said that she had been there when they put the port in.  When I saw her Bowie tattoo, I remembered her too!

So, now I have to wait until Monday to find out the results of the scan!  Dr Akhtar had left for the weekend before the images were available.  We've got a phone appointment set for 2:00 Monday.  Infusion session number 5 is now provisionally scheduled for next Friday - nearly 2 weeks late!  This is going to impact our travel plans, which is annoying, but I guess I should be more concerned about what is causing the abnormal test results!  The Infusion nurse said the sometimes the chemo drugs do strange things and that this is the most likely cause.  I hope she's right!  Monday can't come quickly enough!
 

"Chemotherapy Patient"

For 6 months now, my entire life has revolved around being a cancer patient and now a chemotherapy patient. My calendar is full of nothing but appointments.  I want to be ME again - a Dad, a husband, a programmer, someone who has fun and enjoys life - has a laugh, doesn't mope around all day!  Finn asked me the other morning why I was always so angry with him! It was Jean's birthday yesterday and I couldn't even think of anything fun or original to get her!  I hate this so much.

Tomorrow is treatment number 4, preceded by blood work and an appointment with my oncology specialist (see - nothing but appointments!).  We'll be 1/2 way, so at least that is a milestone.

The side effects have been lasting longer and longer after each treatment, so I'm fully expecting this time to be no different - nausea, nerve sparks, neuropathy, exhaustion and a general malaise until at least Thursday, probably longer. 

I am lucky, though!  I was back at work this week and I spoke to a few people about stuff.  One guy has a daughter in law, only 30, who has just completed chemo for breast cancer and is probably heading for a double mastectomy.  She's got young kids, works as a nurse.  She's taken it hard - hardly leaves her room.  Another got diagnosed with testicular cancer shortly after I left work to have my operation.  He had a successful operation back in March, but now has to undergo an intensive chemo regime that sounds so much worse than mine - he'll be an inpatient for 5 days every month for the next 4 months, followed by 3 weeks of recovery time!  Makes my 2 hours, plus 2 days with a pump seem like nothing at all!  We were able to chat a while and I encouraged him to join a support group and talk about it.

Cancer is a fucker!   Sorry there's nothing positive in here.

"How are you?"

I've been trying, and failing, to come up with an answer to this question for months now.  Everyone asks, and it's so hard to answer.  My default response has always been "Oh, not so bad", but that's really not true these days.  If I go into any detail, people will, understandably, just glaze over and quickly try to change the subject, or get away from me asap.  People that I know have intimate knowledge of the process, I feel I can share more with - and I've frequently received useful tips/advice/encouragement from fellow travelers, particularly at the support group that I don't attend as often as I'd like on Monday mornings.


People tell me I'm looking good - but that is basically because I've lost 25lbs since this thing started.  I'm now down below the weight I reached when I was cycling 35 miles a day, which is kind of ironic
 
How I DO feel is, generally, shitty.  Today, coming up to a week after the infusion session, I am still feeling the neuropathy pains and cold sensitivity - I drove down to Oliver's to get coffee on Saturday morning and could barely hold the steering wheel! Thankfully we're not in a cold climate, or it would be unbearable. I regularly get nauseous - particularly first thing in the morning - although I've only actually thrown up a couple of times.  I'm doing very little physically, but am permanently exhausted. 

I walk every day, but I'm not getting any further, I get to the end of the street and have to turn back because I'm scared of going too far - plus, I'm so slow that I am overtaken by even the slowest walkers.  I guess the slow pace has it's advantages, though - one day last week, Jean and I saw a tiny mole (it looked like a small ball of fur) scurry across the road in front of us and then were able to watch as it dug down into the earth incredibly quickly, and follow it's subterranean progress by watching the dirt rise and fall.  Then, on Friday I was treated to the beautiful butterfly in the picture, which stayed helpfully still for a good while, so I was able to get out and prep the camera.

I've got an appointment with the INS tomorrow to renew my Green Card, and then I am hoping to be able to do some work - from home - for the rest of the week.  Hopefully, having something to focus on will help my mood (it would also help if the Giants would start playing proper baseball!!!).

3rd Chemo session

Had the third infusion session on Monday and am still feeling like shit and it's Thursday night. Doesn't bode well for the future sessions. The medical marijuana is helping, I think, but I am loathe to take too much of it.  Don't want to keep on writing because I've got nothing positive to say today.

Let me tell you about Sweetcorn

I'll spare you the goriest details, but please let me warn anyone who is unlucky enough to need an Ostomy bag at any point in their life - AVOID SWEETCORN!  Don't even think about it, unless it's been creamed or mashed or otherwise pulverised.  If you don't heed my words, you are in for about 24 hours of unpleasantness, discomfort and pain.

You have been warned!

A Day without Drugs!!!

So yesterday was the first day since all this stuff began that I know for a fact I had no pain killers, no opiates, no nothing!  I guess that's a milestone.

Since the second Chemo session last Monday, I'd been suffering side effects even worse than after the first one, which is concerning.  The neuropathy, cold sensitivity, nausea and general lethargy were all worse this time around.  After some strong encouragement from Jean, various friends with experience and my nurse in the Infusion unit, I caved in and registered as a medical marijuana user.  

I was never a drug user as a youth, and probably only tried smoking weed a couple of times (while drunk, and with very bad results), and I have always been wary of the stuff. Also, as a former smoker, I don't want to get back into that habit!  However, I've been convinced that it is at least worth giving it a go. 

So I went along to Compassionate Health Options down behind the Russian River Brewery pub and talked to a very nice former ER Doctor from London who explained all the options - told me that there are ways of taking the stuff which don't involve smoking and do not give you the high that other versions do and gave me a certificate to say that my condition qualifies me to get a hold of whatever I need.  He also offered to buy me a pint over the road when all this is over with!!

Then it was off to Peace in Medicine which dispenses the stuff.  It's run very professionally and the people there were very understanding to a naive neophyte.  I came home with a "vape pen" and some strawberry flavoured lozenges.

The vape pen gives the most instant results.  I woke on Saturday feeling nauseous and (after dropping Finn off at his rehearsal) I took a couple of puffs and felt a lot better right away.

Saturday night we had been invited by our friend Keith and his charming mother to a meal at Scoma's restaurant down in Sausalito.  At a couple of points on the way down, I did think I was going to have to turn around and go home, but again a couple of puffs seemed to calm down the nausea and the discomfort I was feeling, and always do lately when travelling in a car.

I'm so glad we went - it was a lovely relaxed evening, with fun conversation and wonderful seafood.  It was the first time I had left Sonoma County for non-medical reasons in about 6 months.

My main concern was dealing with the Ostomy bag in public.  Fortunately, the loos were large and clean and private and, while I did have to make three trips there, they all went smoothly with no embarrassment caused.

Sunday, I tried half a lozenge.  It took a little longer, but it had similar effectiveness in killing off the nausea and discomfort.

Monday morning, I felt no nausea or pain and decided to take the day as it came. I was able to put in a couple of hours work (from home), and felt like I actually achieved something.  Then spent the afternoon watching the Giants' Home opener on TV.

I'm hoping that after Infusion Session number three - next Monday - the vape pen and lozenges will really come into their own in helping with the side effects. 

Chemo-moaning session

It seems that I had it easy first time round on Chemotherapy.  I was given a dosage of a single drug over a period of 5 days - it was a pain to have to carry the pump around, I got some mouth sores and a little nauseous, and I was permanently tired, but that was the extent of the side effects.

This time's a bit different.  I have a 2-hour infusion session on a Monday where they pump me with 3 different drugs in one sitting, then I have to carry a pump for 2 days to finish me off.  They warned me loud and clear about what side-effects were going to come, and boy have they come.



One of the drugs I am taking is called Oxaliplatin, and seems to be responsible for much of what is described below.

Difficulty swallowing and shortness of breath.  The infusion nurse warned me that I may get a feeling like I'm being strangled.  This hasn't happened yet.  What has happened is that when I try to eat, I get a sort of burning sensation in the back of the throat, as if my body is wanting to reject what I am trying to feed it.  It goes away after the first couple of mouthfuls, but if you take a break of even a few minutes, the sensation comes back! 

Cold foods and drinks are absolutely out - even tap water is verging on too much.  When you put something cold in your mouth, there is this sharp rising pain.

Cold sensitivity.  Doesn't sound like a biggie, especially in California, right?  But I walked outside to get the mail last night - it was very gently drizzling and a little on the cool side.  My hands felt like they were being stabbed! I've never felt anything like it! Later in the evening, the loo overflowed and I tried to clear it up with some old towels.  During the process, I stepped on a wet towel in my socks and suddenly had the most shockingly cold sensation, which would not go away for about 15 minutes!  It's remarkably debilitating and not a great deal of fun!

Of course, being forewarned is very handy, but I really wasn't prepared for the full reality until I have started to experience it!


On top of all this, I am still lethargic and slow - can't really do any heavy lifting.  I've driven to the store and back, which went OK, but I did have to sit down for an hour afterwards.  I really don't feel ready to face work again - I think the drive there would pretty much wipe me out!



Sorry for the whinge, but it's been a bit of a shock to see how much this is effecting me this time around,  hopefully it will ease over time.  Next appointment is Wednesday to get the pump removed, then I have nearly 2 weeks with nothing until my next infusion session! Yay!

Chemo live

Sitting in the infusion room in a comfy  reclining chair and a warm blanket,  getting pumped full of stuff that is trying to make me feel shitty! Woohoo!

There's a list off side effects that may our may not occur,  some of which don't seem too bad,  but a couple off them sound pretty scary.

I described my Friday experience to the pharmacist and he agreed that it was probably as I had assumed, a result of  the various drugs I'd been given,  and possibly a migraine thrown in for good measure.  That explanation will do for me.

It's a hive  of  activity in here and everyone is very positive in  a trying situation - It's very obvious that I'm a newbie,  the old hands just lay back and doze off - maybe next time that can be me!  Still about am hour to go and then I will be given my pump to carry round for the next two days.

I seem to only be writing on Sundays

It's been a whole week - so sorry.

Ok, so... main thing this week was the  port insertion,  which went fairly well and all the staff and doctors were kind and charming. 

The next day was tricky.  We've been having well problems at home and the work to fix it was due to new finish that day.  Jean was hiring a van and shooting off to somewhere on the peninsula to pick up a table and chairs,  so I had the simple task of opening the door,  saying "Hi", and making sure they had everything they needed to get it done.  The day started with a headache,  so I took my oxycodone and my tylenol and thought nothing of it. 

Before long I was reduced to lying on the sofa with a blanket over my head.  If I tried to read anything,  I simply couldn't read what it said.  I had to spell it out to myself letter by letter and then try to make sense of the next word and then try to  link them together.  I tried sending Jean a text message and it took me about 10 minutes to write a short message. After I sent it,  I realised that I had repeated one word multiple times in a row! It was scary and deeply worrying.

This is the exact text  of  the message I sent to Jean:

"I really can't think think straigit at  the moment and i really don't know know know know know why?"

Later I answered a phone call from a solar engineer who wanted to talk about the quote he wants to give us.  I have not a clue what he said or what I said in  reply!

Later in  the day,  I threw up and managed to sleep for a while and that seemed to help get me straightened out.

I'm assuming that it was a result of the drugs I've been on, and maybe the additional drugs used during the port placement, so I have decided to stop the oxycodone right away - the level of  pain is way more tolerable now,  so it should not be a problem.

So next up are.....More new drugs!

Chemotherapy part two starts now.  I'll try to write in  detail about what it  involves and how it goes.  It's yet another start of yet another phase of this journey.

Still moving very slowly!

I've been home for nearly 2 weeks now and am getting back to normal.  Still have pain from the incisions and am still learning to deal with "the bag".

Good appointment with Dr Akhtar, my oncologist.  He told me that the pre-Xmas treatment had shrunk the tumour down to less than a centimeter and that the operation had removed all trace of disease.  We now embark on another round of Chemo to get rid of the untraceable remains!  This is scheduled to begin on March 20th.  There will be 8 fortnightly treatments and I will have to carry a pump around for 2 days after each one.  

He said that later on in the treatment, delaying a session by a week or so would not be a problem, so it looks like a UK trip might be possible - Yay!
 
Also visited another Ostomy nurse down in San Rafael, who was very encouraging and kind. She reckoned that my stoma should stay pretty constant at 1 and 1/8th inch, so has ordered me new bags that I will not have to cut to size, which will be nice!

I had to renew my Oxycodone prescription because the pain is not contained by Acetaminaphen alone, but I am trying to stretch out the time between taking them and hopefully will wean myself off pretty soon.

Today's Sunday, so that means next week is another round of appointments - Dr Alkoraishi down in SF on Tuesday and to the Santa Rosa hospital on Thursday to have a port installed in my chest to facilitate the chemo - it's a bit more simple to manage than the picc line, which would have been the alternative.  Because I seem to react to the dressings they use with the Picc, I hope that I'm going to be better off with the port, even though the installation is a more complicated procedure.

1 Week since surgery

Time flies,  eh?

Pain is still bad,  but manageable - I'm trying not to reach for the Oxycodone at the stroke of the 4th hour,  and last night I woke up only twice,  so that it's progress.

I've been walking round the garden,  and up and down the stairs,  but have not moved far from the reclining chair these last two days.

I'm getting used to the bag,  but am extremely self conscious about it - emptying it is now just a chore rather than a disgusting ordeal.  I'm yet to embark upon a bag change unassisted - that will happen on Saturday. 

I got 3 months supplies through the mail today,  so should anything good awry,  I will be OK for backup. 

Next week I have appointments with my oncologist here in Santa Rosa and with an Ostomy nurse down in San Raphael,  then a follow- up with my surgeon the next week down in SF.  After all that I should know when the  next set of chemo is going to start and end.

Ostomy care

I never imagined having to deal with an ostomy, and am aware and grateful that it is a temporary thing for me.

Today,  my instructor,  Ruth from Petaluma,  wanted me  to  change the bag unaided and showed up at my room at 9:45. I went to the toilet to prepare myself and re-emerged to find that there was a member of the surgery team there,  too,  wanting to remove the last drain from my side (the catheter had been pulled in the middle of the night).

The process of replacing the bag is  a bit like a craft project,  you have to measure the circumference of your stoma and then cut a hole in the entrance of the bag to fit exactly,  then quickly put it in place and seal it. I was leaking because breakfast had passed through me quicker than expected,  so also had to try to keep the stoma clean and dry before putting the  new bag in place.

So I'm doing all this and trying to remember all the steps and the right order for them,  when the surgical assistant decided that this was the ideal time to remove the draining tube. To  say it was stressful would be an understatement -  dealing  with all  the yuckiness of the stoma and bag would have been quite enough,  thank you!

Anyway,  everything got done and I am now free of all unneeded attachments.  I also have my meds to take home and am basically free to go.  Woohoo!

Hospital

It's day 5 of my stay in  Kaiser SF. I'd been hoping to post more from here to record the minutia,  but it's not been happening,  so let's look back now.

Jean drove  me down on Thursday morning and it  was a fairly easy trip down.  We checked in and headed up to the Ambulatory Services Unit on the 4th floor,  which has been my home ever since.

Everything was smooth and pretty painless leading up to the procedure,  and the operation itself went on the blink of an eye (for me,  at least! Much more stressful for Jean who had to be conscious throughout the five hour procedure! )

I woke up to a fair amount of pain and the usual hospital bed frustrations (Not being able to move,  pain when trying to get up and walk,  etc.) But I was able to walk up and back down the corridor that first night,  which was encouraging.

Main problem with the room has  been the heating.  It is either stiflingly hot or ice  cold and the thermostat doesn't really give you a clue as to what it is doing and any tiny adjustment causes a dramatic change.  That aside,  all the nursing and support staff have been great.

The ostomy bag. I'm not going to be stuck with it forever,  thank  god, but will have to wear the horrible thing until my  chemo is done.  I got some initial instruction on Friday on how everything works and it kind of made  sense in my head,  but on Saturday a nurse came to actually change the bag,  and the full reality started to sink in.

Basically,  a part  of my small intestine is now sticking out and I need to make sure that it is always covered and that the bag covering it doesn't get too full.  I'm sure it will become second  nature before long,  but right now it's just icky in the extreme.

Had a close call with my Mp3 player.  I've been carrying it around most of the time in the breast pocket of the hospital gown.  On Saturday one of the support team came to help me wash and change and,  of  course, I  forgot to pull it out and it went off to be laundered.  Fortunately,  I realized what had  happened before too  long,  and before the laundry had left the ward,  so a kind nurse was able to dig it out for me.

Sorry for any typos in this.  I'll try to fix them later,  writing this seems to have wiped me out! 

Still here

I've got strong pain meds,  a colostomy bag and a catheter.  Doctors visited at 6:30 this morning and told  me everything is looking fine.  The only food  I've had since Tuesday is a small bowl of jelly.  The scars on my stomach are itchy,  but don't look too  bad.  Tired and hurting,  but relieved that they are telling me everything went to plan.

Could do with a table that moves better.

Staff are lovely and helpful.  I need to walk as much as possible.

The Night Before

I'm going through the same bowel preparation that I had to do for the colonoscopy way back at the start of this process. Gavilyte is not fun.  Today I have to have no solid food - tea, coffee and chicken broth are OK, but no fruit juice.  It's hard to go through a day without casual snacking!  Fortunately, our dear friend Kathy has provided us with a big pot of soup, so at least I will not have to prepare any food tonight!

I can feel my insides start to churn already - I'm about 1/3rd of the way through the big big big bottle of stuff I have to get through.

We leave for the City tomorrow morning - 10:30 arrival, so not too bad traffic wise, hopefully.  I've been waiting for this day for a long time.