A Fork in the Road

As I laid under the mask in radiation today (the Friday after Thanksgiving), I thought of the great philosopher, Yogi Berra. He has many memorable quotes, but the one that was in my mind was “If you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

On Wednesday of last week, I passed over some undefinable line, the one that defined me to be a cancer patient. I was afraid and confused by that other side. When the radiation was done, I saw that I’m now on the other side of the line, where my sole purpose is this cancer: fighting it and accepting everything that’s required to beat it.  Think fork in the road.

“Highlights!”

(I’m also in a Hamilton mood, so you have to sing that like in the show.)

MONDAY:  Radiation was very easy, except the whole process, of course. But I was calm, accepting of it. They had the mask on me, and asked me if it was in the right position.  I said “Perfect!”, thinking to myself “given the circumstances”.  They heard the “perfect”, chuckling because they heard the “given the circumstances” too, even though I hadn’t said it aloud. I guess these people were already on the other side of acceptance, waiting for me.

Next stop chemo, remembering I’m on the other side. I was accepting that Suzy couldn’t be with me due to Covid restrictions. “Accepting” still means being afraid that she couldn’t be with me, but there was nothing I could do to change it. Chemo went perfectly this week, although it took 4 hours. The lead nurse from the scary situation last week came by and checked on me several times. I was tired when we got home, and a bit out of it mentally. We ate, then Suzy insisted I just sit down (nice version of the day before’s “sit your ass down”), and I accepted and just vegged out.

TUESDAY:  All of these deep thoughts hit me at about 3 in the morning.  When I couldn’t sleep, I tried the night time THC oil, meant to zonk you so you can sleep.  Well, it didn’t work as far as sleep goes, but it did enable me to reflect on the past few weeks. So maybe what I’m calling deep thoughts are just the ramblings and reflections of a stoned person.  I have a host of drugs at my disposal to fight pain, nausea, eating issues, whatever may come. I’m willing to try anything that can reduce my symptoms and help me finish this marathon in as good as shape as possible. Marijuana is just another tool.

One of the nice things they do when under the mask in radiation is to play whatever music you request. Today was Johnny Cash. Yesterday was Stevie Wonder’s “Songs in the Key of Life”, my favorite album when it came out in 1976.  (Wow, am I old!)  Death Cab for Cutie, Postal Service, Fleetwood Mac and of course the Hamilton Soundtrack have all helped me pass the time. Other good news is no nausea from the chemo so far this week. Also, I received the nicest handwritten note from old friend. Made me feel really good going into radiation. Thanks, Audrey!

WEDNESDAY:  Time has slowed. It’s only Wednesday morning, but seems later. I had radiation, followed by a consult with Dr. P, my Radiation Oncologist. He’s recognized as a great doctor, with all his peers and other associates saying wonderful things about him. I’m very lucky to have him treating me. He said radiation is going well, and he focused on side effects that I’m experiencing. More on them later, but for now they’re all manageable.

Real Thanksgiving Day is tomorrow. We had our Thanksgiving on Halloween, knowing that my side effects would likely be in full swing by now, and are just having Lee and Heidy over for spaghetti and meatballs. I’ll make some homemade Italian bread. The important part is, of course, being able to spend time with family, in person with Heidy and Lee, and via zoom with Eric and Irene. I have so much to be thankful for!  Lee and Heidy (and Oreo) are hanging right in there as my symptoms pile up.

As you can tell, the Mayo Clinic is like a well-oiled machine, making the hospital side of things pretty easy. We just go where they tell us, with appointments magically appearing in my portal. They keep peeling the onion a layer at a time, ordering or discussing what’s next, often before I even knew I needed it. I am soooooo lucky!

THURSDAY:  The non-hospital part is getting tough. “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day.” (More Hamilton). The first symptom from radiation showed up last week.  The skin on my neck is pretty burnt and tender like a bad sunburn, looking like old leather. Then my tongue began to ache, and I assume there’s a sore way back there.  I can expect more of the same. Yesterday, I began to have trouble eating. This is problematic because eating enough is critical – both for calories and protein. Right now, I’m trying to figure out what I can eat and drink. Looks like bread, crackers, anything dry is out. Soft things like eggs, yogurt, cottage cheese seem to work, but it makes the calories a challenge. And even these, I struggle to eat because it hurts. Even talking seems more difficult, and my taste buds are changing. I usually wake up earlier than Suzy, drinking coffee and reading the news online. This morning the coffee was tasteless. From what I understand, this will continue to worsen, before my taste comes back post-treatment. Friday will be the end of week 3, four more to go.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. Lee and Heidy came over, Lee cooked spaghetti and meatballs. He is a really good cook, and it turned out really tasty. Suzy and Heidy cooked apple pies, and Oreo and I sat around watching all the action. I made a loaf of braided Italian bread, that turned out pretty good, if I must say so myself. I am mostly just a spectator these days, so it was great to contribute to the meal. Oreo enjoyed scarfing crumbs off the floor and hanging out with me. I am using liquid lidocaine to numb my throat so I can eat easier. I squirt it in and it gives me about 20 minutes to eat, mostly pain free. It was nice to eat for pleasure and company today, rather than just for calories and protein. We spoke to Eric and Irene on a video call. It just makes me realize what a great family I have.

FRIDAY:  I’m sitting here waiting for an appointment after my last radiation of Week 3. Since Suzy’s in the parking lot (f-ing covid!), I chatted with a fellow patient who has exactly what I have.  He’s three days ahead of me in his treatment, but I’m a lot luckier in my symptoms (so far, anyway, and knock on wood).  He said chemo was making him cry like a baby, and that it was just breaking him – he lost 10 pounds in a week.  I am so thankful that I’m nowhere near where he is.  For me, it’s four more weeks of treatment!  Die, cancer cells, die!!

I’m at a decision point with this blog. Do I want to be real, and write how things really are?  Or do I sugar-coat it and write about only the positives?  It’s not all going to be decorating Christmas trees and 4-wheel driving.  Every day and every week, side effects are piling on. I’ve promised myself to keep putting my thoughts down, good or bad. It’s helping me, just to write it down. I’m committed to this, so be ready. I’m also going to try to keep the gross stuff mostly out. You can be the judge of how real of a story you want to read. For me, I am thinking Yogi and the fork.