Everyone has gone home. The apartment seems quiet. Even Jessie seems subdued. We were a little worried that my son's flights would be affected by the snow storm of the weekend, but I spoke to him today and they got home with no trouble.
I went into the office today. We're gearing up for end of the year deals. I need to call the disability insurance company and see if they received Dr. M's request to extend my disability after 12/28, and to approve me going to 3/4 time work (30 hours a week) during the radiation treatments. I meant to do it today but got too busy and forgot.
My eyes are drooping but I'm forcing myself to stay up until 10:00 pm to take the Decadron. I have to take it again at 5:00 am. I see Dr. R at 9:10. V is picking me up and we're going to go for coffee and some breakfast beforehand.
I found it interesting that my kids really had no questions they wanted to ask me about the treatments or the whole process. I think they may have been relieved to find me really unchanged except for my poor bald head. My son commented specifically on how much energy he thought I had. And it's true that while they were here, my energy level was up (at least I wasn't falling asleep on the couch at 7:00 or 7:30 pm as I was doing the week before they came). Still the kids were supportive and clearly concerned about me. I think back to the fact that when my father had his open heart surgery in the mid 1970's, I was in my mid-20's. I'm not sure I had many questions about the specifics of his treatments, just how he was doing in general, how he felt and his prognosis.
Anyway, the only thing I'm really dreading about Chemo #3 is the NuLasta shot and possible side effects spilling over into next week, which promises to be a very very busy week at work (and the week I'm hoping to start working 3/4 instead of 1/2 time). I have to say that although I do like Dr. R, I can't say I"m really looking forward to seeing her. There's something about seeing your oncologist that raises the whole cancer thing back to the obvious. She drills me, goes through all the effects of the treatment and the effects of the drugs given to deal with the effects of the treatment. When she is concerned, it shows. I much prefer just jumping on the treatment ship and sailing through the hours with Nurse E at the helm. Perhaps that's because when you're doing the treatment, you feel like you're accomplishing something (and meanwhile you don't have to think about why you need to accomplish it - whereas just the word 'oncologist' reminds you).
At any rate, it's good to know that once I get through tomorrow, I have one work day and then a 3 day weekend. 3 days to get back to the park and see what (and who) is stirring over there. I wonder if the omnipresent squirrels ever hibernate. (Do squirrels hibernate? I assume so, but actually don't know. Their apparently more delicate chipmunk cousins do seem to have gone to ground for the winter.)
Peace on earth.
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