Any day above ground is a good one

This is a hard week. Dan is in his fourth week of radiation treatments, and it appears they have taken quite a toll. When he is home, he is barely mobile. He gets up to use the bathroom or go to the kitchen.

He also seems much quieter than usual, and he happens to be extremely quiet anyway. I don’t know whether he is preoccuppied with his thoughts or if he is so tired he can’t talk. I think he is very depressed. I know when I have just a cold or flu and lack energy I get depressed.

I hope this fatique goes away. He is not laughing much at all and appears to lack enthusiasm.

This is really uncomfortable to observe because it makes the cancer even more real. He is having the side effects of treatment, and  I guess that is why some people choose not to take treatment or not even to know if they are sick until they are close to death.

I keep reminding myself that this malaise is the treatment. I wish he would move about more.
I feel he is fading away, and it makes me feel scared and sad.

I guess what is going on with me is the sheer frustration that this is something I can not figure out and fix.
It is terribly difficult to watch the man you know so well go through this discomfort. He has also been getting hot flashes. I hope that eventually all of this will subside to a more tolerable level.

Thanks, Ruth for the plug for exercise. I know that Dan can at least walk around the block with the dog. I also have learned from my own problems with depression and malaise that exercise gives me more energy.

Maybe Dan will start. I have our bikes in an easily accessible area so maybe he can get his rear end on the seat and pedal a little.

I am concerned with the exercise thing because although I know that this is hard for Dan because he has not been much of an exerciser, I know that there is RARELY a time when I say "Yippee, it’s time to exercise."  It’s one of those things that is good to do like brushing one’s teeth and getting enough rest.

I watch my 80 year old aunt who has congestive heart failure make herself get up and moving every day. We can always do more than we think.

I am not being hard on Dan; it is just that cancer does not thrive well in an enviroment of oxygen. And for his heart and this cancer I see no losing proposition in exercise.  Tough love. That is probably one of my roles.  Oh, who knows!

The drive and fatigue from the radiation are catching up with me. I got about 10 hours sleep last night but still I feel tired. I did have to get up at least 5 times and I think that this is also affecting my sleep. I only have 9 more radiation treatments and this is what I am trying to keep in my head. Only 9 more trips. Only 1210 more miles. Only two more audio books.

I am also having some side effects from the radiation besides the fatigue. I have to pee a lot. This is one of the expected side effects and I am on Advil to help reduce the inflammation. I have also been referred to see another urologist for possible treatment of this problem. They believe that I have centrally located benign prostatic hypertrophy (BPH) that is an enlargement on the inside of the prostate gland, not necessarily the whole gland itself being enlarged. This causes narrowing of the urethra and this makes it difficult for me to fully empty my bladder. The treatment involves an outpatient procedure to alleviate the BPH called Green Light Laser and will be done after my radiation but before the seed implants. I more than likely have had this condition for many years and the radiation treatments are now aggravating it.

I know that my fatigue is bothersome to Paula, she thinks I should be out and about exercising. I just don’t have the energy after doing 12 hour days with treatments and work. I did take off a day last week and I will do so again next week. If things get worse I will take more time off. One day at a time, one day at a time. 

I just want to say that Dan is handling all of this admirably. The daily drives to Sarasota and then back to work are not fun. I accompanied him earlier this week since I took the opportunity to spend the night at my father’s house and visit with my sister both of whom live in Sarasota.

Yesterday morning after his radiation treatment, Dan took the day from work since he is starting to get fatiqued from the drive and the treatments. From my reading I have learned that is usually in this third week of radiation that the effects like fatique start to show up.  He picked me up at Dad’s and stayed for a brief visit. My father is totally and absolutely terrified of cancer. There are reasons for this. First, almost everyone is terrified of cancer.  Second, Dad was born in 1928 and in that day the word cancer was not even uttered. Lots of people died of cancer, but family members would not refer to it as such. It was like a plague or something. This is information I have gathered in my reading. I can remember when I was little girl of about five that my great-uncle was dying of cancer and no one would say what he had. They just said that Uncle Eddie didn’t feel good. Third,, my Dad’s wife Joy died three years ago of pancreatic cancer. One day her stomach started to ache. Seven weeks later she was dead. To Dad, cancer means immediate death. This is not Dan’s situation.

So I noticed my Dad checking Dan out out of the corner of his eye while Dan was looking at the tv. Dad had not seen Dan since Christmas, and I know my Dad so well that I totally know he was looking for visible signs of deterioration. As Dan discussed in an early post, a person with cancer does not start looking thin and hollow-eyed like a concentation camp victim until a few weeks before death.You cannot tell by looking at someone.
 My poor Dad is so nervous about this that he doesn’t know what to say or to do. I told him just treat Dan like he always does–  Dad is sort of militaristic as he is a former Marine. As children he liked us  to do our chores around the house as he sang "From the Halls of Montezuma- to the shores of Tripoli." He even had us to march along with him as we worked. He likes people to march to HIS music. So Dad should just go on treating Dan like he does most people. He’s the sergeant; we’re the troops.
In all truth my Dad is a big teddy bear- a big blue-eyed hell of a funny guy who saves stray animals, write love poetry, helps out people who are down and out and is honest as they come. If my Dad shakes your hand with a deal, he means every word.

Poor Daddy. Poor lots of people. They just don’t know that the best thing to do for Dan is talk to him about it. Don’t come to me as though the conversation must occur behind closed doors. I am not his spokesperson. I have already seen many people checking Dan’s appearance out for "signs". Mom said when her lung cancer was diagnosed as terminal that she was now "a monkey in a cage" for everyone to look at. Yecch. I don’t know that if I had a bad disease that I would tell anyone. I mean it.

But back to the drive home yesterday. We needed to stop four times for him to use the bathroom for the 70 mile trip. This is because the radiation is irritating his bladder. I feel so bad for him. He tells me that he does not want my pity, but it is sad. He is my big, tall drink of water husband, and it hurts me to see him have to go through this.

I love you, Dan, and I wish you didn’t have to go through this.

Paula

Today is the halfway point for my IMRT radiation treatments and I feel great about that but the drive is starting to get to me. I am also starting to feel some side effects of the radiation; mainly I have to pee a lot. The radiation causes some inflammation in my urethra. This is a common side effect of the radiation. That being said I got to tell you I think I have been to every bathroom that comes within 50 feet of me.

I started to notice this problem a little this past weekend. But I really got the hint of what was going on when I had to stop 2 times to pee on the way back from Sarasota on Monday. Two bloody times!! In 60 minutes. Then I had to go again when I arrived to work. Geeezzz. Walk down the hall and see another. Bingo I dash in again. You know a school has a bunch of restrooms, yes a bunch of em.

Sleeping is pretty much the same thing. I’m and up four or five times during the night. This is not too bad as I have started to adapt to getting back to sleep fairly quickly. If that doesn’t work I am going to have to hook a hose up. I think I’ll go to Home Depot and get some just in case.

What is wrong with drivers education classes now days? Probably the same thing that plagues the rest of education; Is it apathy, stupidity or just plain incompetence? I was taught in drivers ed, “back in the day”, that when driving in the left lane on a limited access road, or for that matter any four lane road, if someone is approaching you from behind move over. There must be a BUNCH of dunderheads that didn’t get that lesson and I think that they are all on I-75 between Tampa and Sarasota. Listen folks (the dunderheads) I have to get to Sarasota and back to work by 8:30 or 8:45 in the AM so we are going to have a little remediation that you can understand. Notice the picture below. It has three lanes in it and just to make it simple for you I am going to reduce this lesson to what kind of music you are listening to.

If you are in the far right lane you should be listening to classical music. If you are in the center lane you should be listening to easing listening music or country music. If you find your butt in the left lane and you see me in your mirror you damn well better be listening to Rock and Roll or change lanes.

Before I get to my appointment to be radiated I have to drink an un-godly amount of water so my bladder is “nice and full”. Not a thing you want to have in a moving vehicle, a “nice and full” bladder. So if you find yourself on I-75 and you find some maniac behind you who looks like he has to pee, kindly turn the music up and put the hammer down or get yourself into the country music lane. Please note that in most of Florida there are only 2 to 3 lanes on the major highways and therefore no room for any Rap music lanes. Sorry. If you feel the need to listen to rap music and travel on I-75 in the left lane and you are only going 50 mph you are taking your life in your hands. I don’t care what kind of "Gangsta" you think you are, but you’re dealing with a guy with prostate cancer and he has to PEE. Nuff said? Thought so, because that should be enough to scare anyone.

Dan and I have not talked much about  death by cancer. I mean we have talked about the possibility that he could die from this disease, but we have not talked about the actual DYING of the disease. We both know the realities, and they are not pretty.

 People who have cancer are lucky if they die from side effects i.e. pneumonia or sepsis, etc. The unlucky ones are the people who go through the actual wasting that cancer causes in its end stages.

Dan was very scared when he saw my mother as she died of cancer. He usually saw her every few weeks, so her physical deterioration was staggeringly apparent to him.  I was with Mom each day, so I just got used to her deterioration.  My mother died in terrible pain. My stepmother Joy also died of the cancer not side effects. She also died in terrible pain. Both of these women begged in their last days for "someone to help them". I cannot possibly convey the angst that this created in my sister, my father and me. We could only stand by and watch.

Shortly after my mother died, I made a visit to  our veterinarian. He knew of what had been going on with Mom. He shared with me an experience he had the previous day. He told of a man who was dying of cancer who had come to have his beloved dog "put down" because the dog, too, had cancer and was suffering. Dr. Priest said, "You know I could not help but think that the dog is luckier  than its owner."

There is no gentle way to write this post. Death by cancer cannot be sugarcoated.  I am glad that the physician- assisted suicide was upheld in Oregon, but that won’t do nonresidents any good.

I have no religious ideas about suicide.  I consider myself a free agent, and I want the opportunitiy to do with my life as I choose . Several years ago I read Sherwin Nuland’s book  HOW TO DIE. I don’t know if I would choose to kill myself but I damn sure want the option.

I have been hearing this or a variation of it from many of the people who are my friends or coworkers. “You don’t look sick”, you know I don’t feel sick either. Or “How are you doing”, do you mean my cancer or me? I guess that is what I find so odd about it, I almost feel guilty, I have cancer but I feel fine. It is not like Paula’s stepmother, who had pancreatic cancer, you KNEW she was sick and she was VERY sick. That was simply horrible. From the time she found out she had cancer to the time she died it was about 6 weeks at which time she looked like skin and bones. It shocked the hell out me. Thank God I don’t have something that severe.  

I know folks mean well and that they are concerned for me but I guess I find it odd because in my head I feel fine and there are moments when I have to remind my self that I am sick. The only reason I know for sure that I have cancer is a biopsy and a color Doppler scan that had a few red spots on it. I don’t want to feel sick either, it is the last thing on my to do list, the very last thing. In fact when my time really comes I don’t want to feel sick at all, I just want to die quickly and without pain. It is the pain and suffering that scares the crap out of me.

Perhaps it is the collective need to know about scary things in life. I think it is the same reason that people drive slow when they see a horrible accident. We all do it. Did they live or did they die? Will I see the victim or not? Is there blood on the road? He doesn’t look sick. You look good. Before I had cancer I was always too freaked out about it to even ask about how people were doing. I am much stronger now. I will remind myself that I am really in fact sick when the people who care enough to ask do ask.

Four months have passed since Dan and I first caught wind of the idea that he may have cancer. Of course, several tests later which involved waiting as Dan moved from one doctor to the next, from one diagnostic procedure to the next……. nearly six weeks passed before we got the news that cancer had come to pay a visit.

I remember when we heard the diagnosis. I remember  I felt like we both had been bruised. Our hearts hurt. It was a bruising of the spirit. And I also felt that my body hurt.  It was the death of yet another illusion— the illusion that our little life here would never end.

One of the wonderful parts of a longterm marriage is knowing that there is someone to come home to. We married folks often take this for granted, I think. We often forget how many warm and cozy feelings we get as we are finishing a hard day and approaching our home. Just the idea that someone is waiting for you feels very good and very special.

When I was a girl, I had Mama to come home to. Mom was there, and I knew she  always would be there.

When I was a young woman and lived alone, I missed the experience of knowing that someone was awaiting my arrival.

I am meandering tonight because I am so tired. That was the main point I wanted to make on this post, but I took a bit of a digression.  Stress has made me sooo tired. I never used to sleep past six in the morning. Now I sleep much longer. I have also noticed that I seem to move in slow motion. Things take longer to get done . I have become more forgetful. I am carrying a weight. The cancer is always in the back of my mind.

I need to get back to my weightraining. I need to strengthen my body now more than ever.  I know how much weight training benefits me. I was using up to 20 lb, dumbbells for three years.  Not bad for a girl,

Two weeks ago I dragged myself to Weightwatchers. I have since taken off 4.1 of the 10 pounds I gained over these past months.  I am slowily getting back to some of my good routines.

 Over the years I have learned the importance of being gentle with myself.
I have learned the importance of being a compassionate friend to myself.
I have learned the importance that i must accept that there are many times in life when I will not be able "to keep all the balls in the air at once."

I am a doer. I like to work and to accomplish things each day. I enjoy immersing myself in projects and seeing them through to completion. At present, there are lots of things that are hanging in the air. There are lots of things on that back burner.
Acceptance of what we have is hard at times, but it is absolutely necessary.
Wishing does not make bad stuff go away. We waste our energies in resistance. We free ourselves in acceptance.

So I am  slowly working toward taking better care of myself.

I am not on Dan’s case anymore about what he chooses to eat or drink or do or not do.
Dan is also doing the best he can right now.

He has been wounded. i have been wounded. We are in the licking our wounds phase.

There is a fine line between knowing when to give yourself mercy and knowing when you need to give yourself a kick in the butt.

it is all a balancing act—– life.

Pills. I got a bunch of them. In general getting old sucks and with it comes pills. Use to be that I only had to take pills for my cholesterol but now that I have cancer I have to take a BUNCH more. Funny thing about all of these pills is that I don’t feel bad at all. Never have. Even with my cholesterol I have been chasing numbers on my blood tests for years. My whole family has high cholesterol and my father died of a heart attack. So I have been a good patient and have been tested every six months for my blood lipids. Hell I thought for my whole life that I would die of a heart attack because of my cholesterol. Now I am not so sure. With the drive I have to do everyday to get my radiation a Semi-truck might get me.

Now cancer comes into my life and I almost feel the same with my cancer as I do with my cholesterol. I feel fine. The only thing I have that has proven that I have cancer is another test or two. That is the insidious thing about cancer, is that generally you feel fine until, that is, it’s too late. I don’t want to wait that long so I have more pills now. And the only reason that it is not too late is that my family doctor screened me.

With all of the pills comes confusion. I as I have stated before don’t remember timed events like taking out the garbage on the right day or taking my pills at the right time. I have so many, some once a day, some three times a day, others four times a day. So one of my weekly rituals now is to fill my little pill boxes up with all of the pills I have to take. I have also set my cell phone to beep whenever I need to take another batch of them. Gota go my cell phone is beeping….