Remember my friend who has a rotten-weiler service dog? Well, its about time to retire. Not my friend — her dog. She’s been sending me links to rottweiler puppy pictures. So today, I took a drive for her to check out a puppy.
Before leaving the house, I wrote over and over and over, “I will not bring a puppy into this house. I will not bring a puppy into this house.” Lew said, “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life cleaning up after a puppy!” I thought I was prepared to leave until Lew said, “I’d understand if you have to take a few days to evaluate a dog.” Screeeeeem!!!!!!!!!! NO! NOT THAT! I don’t want permission to bring a puppy home!
I arrived at the shelter just as Ritter was being carried into a pen. He had just been nutter-ed and was still groggy. The absolute worst time to evaluate a puppy. But, goodness, was I glad I didn’t have to interact with him. He looked absolutely regal sitting in that sphinx pose that rottweilers do so well. Ritter had a waiting list of people wanting to adopt him.
“We have two Labs in our prison program. They get eight weeks of training.” And they kept going.
As I backed into the garage, Lew opened the kitchen door. “Are you alone?” He peered into the van.
And before I got a chance to breathe, “I think I broke a rib.” Man, I can’t leave my man alone for just a little while without him getting into trouble. Actually, he didn’t do anything, it just gave way on its own. We haven’t done anything about it yet — the ER is the last place you want to be on a Sunday evening (Everybody who wants a note from a doctor saying they are too sick to work Monday morning is crowding the place.). Lew will be calling his primary doc in the morning. I don’t know that there’s anything that can be done, but just in case this changes his treatment routine . . .
Oh, yeah, I forgot to remind all of you — When there’s no news, its good news. If there’s nothing to write about, I don’t write about it. So, don’t panic when I don’t write for a while.
I know its been a while. We’re doing fine. Lew recovered from my cold quicker than I did. I, eventually, got rid of the cough. We voted early. I’m learning two new (to me) computer languages, PHP5 and mySQL.
Lew is doing very well. The last round of radiation wiped out most of the pain and nausea. He’s eating well. He’s also trying to learn to make Tamale Pie. I think we had version 3.2 today, but it might have been version 4.2.
If none of this makes sense, its because I’m on a drug holiday right now. Some of my drugs loose their effectiveness when I’ve taken them for a while. So, I have to quit taking them long enough for them to get out of my system. I try to manage to go two weeks without, but generally give up around ten days. I’m quite fond of my drugs and enjoy the life they give me. So, if I am more than my usual air headedness . . .
When we last left off in the continuing story . . . A lot of people were worried about the gas situation before the bike ride. Some of the HAMs were hesitant about going, fearing that they wouldn’t be able to find gas to get home. Some folks were hoping the ride would be postponed until the gas situation improved. I decided to have a little faith that everything would work out okay.
Lew had made such a big deal about being able to take care of himself for two days that I didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to ask folks to drop in on him while I was gone. Yeah, I knew he could take care of himself but I still worried about it.
We had already decided that Benny wasn’t ready for a full weekend of working and that he wouldn’t be going with me. I decided that leaving Benny at home would be good for Lew. Benny would see to it that Lew got out of the house and got some exercise. He’d also give Lew a little bit of responsibility.
So, I’m packing . . . no dog toy, no food bowl or water dish, no spare working vest . . . My new chair charger fits inside my suitcase and is very light weight. I had only one suitcase and my traveling shower bench. Wow! Felt like I was forgetting a lot of stuff.
As I loaded up my van, I couldn’t find my radio’s extension cord. Had I, in the last year, used it for something else? I couldn’t remember. I grabbed a bundle of cable and asked Lew to put connectors on the ends for me. Meanwhile, I realized that I hadn’t programmed the radio frequencies that we would be using into my radio.
Sigh! Even with my years old checklist, I was still running around at the last minute.
I asked Lew to shove the case of water into my van and push it against the fire wall. A moment later he’s back in the kitchen with a metal thing in his palm. Neither of us recognized it. He starts looking at the parts for my parking brake, having decided that’s where it came from. I pushed the case of bottled water into my van.
Lew was clearly stressed. I still wasn’t sure about going. I knew Lew could take care of himself, but added stress overwhelms him. For about the trillionth time, I asked him if he was sure it was okay for me to go. For the trillionth time, he repeated that I needed the time away.
Had I been able to see into the future and seen the consequences . . .
I had left the ride early on Sunday. Stopped at the first open gas station to top off my tank, and was home mid-afternoon.
I was shocked! Surprised! Delighted! Lew’s dog, Benny, gave me such a greeting! As I backed into the garage, he bounced at the kitchen door trying to see me pull in. As soon as my ramp was down, Lew opened the door. Benny bounded into the van and sniffed — everything but me. Sigh! But once I got into the house, well, he made me feel much loved and much missed.
Lew got a hyper version of the weekend. Then I was off to the shower. There’s no place like home! There’s no place like home!
Then I got to hear about his weekend — the two of them had just sat around and moped. And he had been to the grocery store to get something for me to fix for dinner. Huh? He expected me to cook right after getting home from the bike ride?! I explained to him that if he wanted me to sit down and eat with him, he was going to have to do the cooking. He wasn’t happy.
I wasn’t happy. He knows better. Even when I haven’t been out of town, driving hundreds of miles in a circle, I don’t cook when I’ve been out and about a bunch. He’s always offered to do the cooking. No, he wasn’t nearly starved. He had cooked for himself while I was gone. Lew was totally stressed out. The change in routine had been just a bit too overwhelming and he wanted everything back to normal (our normal) as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen for a few days. Had my crystal ball been working properly, I wouldn’t have come home on Sunday. I would have stayed at a motel for a few more days.
I brought home a horrible cold.
Lew, still wanting things to be back to normal, didn’t understand why he had to fix dinner the next night. I’d say, “because I have a bad cold.”
He: But I have cancer. Isn’t that worse?
Me: I’ve heard that story before. It doesn’t carry any weight any more.
Then I’d say, “Remember all those times I was taking care of you while you were sick? Now, its payback time. You have to take care of me for a while.”
Lew had not done well while I was gone. He had taken care of himself just fine, if you only count his physical wellbeing. Mentally, he had created a black hole and all of him was being sucked inside. He was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Trying to cheer him a little, I sang him the “Gloom, Despair” song. (Those of you who get the plain text email version of this, may want to visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KK-QIDzTdso to see the original version.)
Once I was home for a couple of days, Lew slipped back into his normal self. I was too sick to go with him to see Dr. Chemo on Wednesday, so he went by himself for the first time. He had to explain to everyone, over and over, why the rest of the family wasn’t with him. I’m thankful he wasn’t to get an infusion that visit. If he had gone into the treatment area without Benny to cheer everyone’s day . . .
So, now Lew has that horrible cold. And I feel sooo guilty for bringing it home. I listen to him try to breathe at night and go, “Please don’t leave me full of guilt!” He’s doing okay, except for the cold. And, I’m not really worried about it doing him in. But you all know how I worry.
* * *
No, I didn’t forget. I know I skipped the bike ride story. I just thought I’d give y’all another chance to make a contribution before you get the story for free. Please visit http://www.nationalmssociety.org/goto/elena or drop a check in the mail (you know my address) and give a gift to the National MS Society.
Picture Lew with his lower lip stuck out in a major pout. “What? You gotta stay home to take care of poor little old me?” Didn’t I say he wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t go on the bike ride?
So, I’ve been working my fingers to the bone, demanding wonders from my computer, trying to make bike route maps that make sense out of a crazy eight with a tail. And, I got to really anticipating going on the ride. I called and changed my motel reservation so I could drive down to Greenville on Friday.
I’ve spent the day printing out my maps and getting organized. I’m depending on Benny to keep Lew out of trouble while I’m gone. It will be strange going on a bike ride without a dog along.
But, I sit here tonight, watching the news, wondering if I’ll really be going this weekend. For those of you out of the area, we’re out of gas. The eleven o’clock news was all about the search for gas. One station called the police to help close the station, the owner was afraid of the people waiting in line when he ran out.
I got gas on Tuesday, almost enough to fill the tank. Lew got a full tank on Wednesday. Now, we’re waiting to hear about the gas situation in Greenville.
I dropped Lew off at the door for radiation and Benny screamed as I drove away. He quieted down after I parked where he could watch the door for his Daddy. It had been pouring rain, so he and I just waited in the van.
We like Dr. Radiation #3. He’s a straight shooter, but kind about it. Lew came out of the building wearing THAT look — something was wrong. Well, Dr. R-3 had been straight with Lew.
Lew had asked what the optimal time is between radiation treatments. Dr. R-3 said that Lew could have radiation any time that he needed it to control his pain.
Lew complained about how tired he always is. Dr. R-3 explained that his body is working hard all the time with the cancer growing in his bones.
Lew talked about how he’s always nauseous and told the doc that he only gets relief for a couple of days with each drug. The doc explained that that’s part of bone cancer too. And Lew was doing the right thing by switching meds every few days — he needs to do whatever works for him.
I guess it was good that I wasn’t with Lew today. He could ask the questions he needed and get answers he understood, without my interpretations. But it hit him kinda hard.
From there, we went to the library. And Benny screamed as I drove off without his daddy.
Then it was a stop at the grocery store. My ears still hurt.
What made today even worse . . . the results of Lew’s latest PSA. In three weeks time, it went from 12 to 46. We’re thinking that there’s no point in checking it any more. We’ve lost all faith in the numbers. In the last few months, Lew’s numbers have gone from 11 to 24 to 12 to 46. They just don’t make sense. None of it has ever really made sense to me. How can a guy get PSA results around three and four when prostate cancer has already spread throughout his lymphatic system and into his bones?!
Okay, you’ve heard the rant before. I’ll stop.
To change the subject drastically . . . everyone is talking politics these days . . . I’ve got my own theory. The question is, “Why was Sarah Palin chosen to run as VP?” It wasn’t one man’s decision. It was a decision made by the mucky-mucks in the party. Sarah Palin was chosen very carefully and for a specific reason. Sarah Palin is a sacrificial lamb. She’s a “token” woman, chosen just to give the old white man’s club a new look. There’s no way McCain could win the election running with another guy just like him. EXCEPT — now that he’s had a woman on the ticket, he can dump her (or let her self-destruct) and he can pick any old republican white guy for VP and still have that afterglow effect of having a woman on the ticket. Sarah Palin is just a temp. The old man will dump her pretty soon. She’ll be long gone before January 20th.
Yep, the bike ride is coming up — only 17 days. And I haven’t started fund raising yet. When I wrote last year’s newsletter/solicitation letter, I said that I may not write another one. I figured if someone was interested in what’s going on with us, they could read my blog. So, I haven’t written anyone and asked for a donation to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society.
For a while, I was okay with that. I wasn’t beating myself up over it. I figured I had all I could handle and there was no point worrying about it.
Did you notice the past tense? Yeah, I’m feeling guilty about it. So, I thought maybe I’d hit y’all up for a donation. The page to give online (for me) is at http://www.nationalmssociety.org/goto/elena. Okay, that’s all. I won’t push it.
I guess one of the reasons for not getting into fund raising sooner (other than having a full plate, being tired, etc.) is that I’m not all that sure that I’ll be going (which really is no reason not to hit up all my friends). Lew has had a terrible few days. He’s gotten sicker each day. I made soup night before last that he had picked out. One taste and he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat much. Unfortunately, he kept trying to eat. Okay, boys and girls, can you say, “aversive conditioning”? Might as well throw out that recipe.
Lew’s not going to be real happy that I’m thinking about not doing the ride. I have been thinking of maybe doing a rest stop instead of SAGging the ride. I’d much rather SAG, but at this point I’m not sure I have enough energy for it. We’ll see.
We discovered yesterday that Baskin-Robbins vanilla milk shakes go down very easily after a radiation treatment. We proofed that theory today. He also got his girlie-man shot this afternoon. Last time, the shot seemed to make him feel better. Our fingers are crossed hoping that it will happen again.
Lew thinks I asked him to bring the rubber mallet into the house because I needed to knock a bracket loose on my new chair. I really wanted to have the mallet handy for the next time I suggested he take an anti-nausea pill before dinner and he says, “I don’t want to take anything this late.” Grrrr! (Now, for those of you who thought I was going to refer to the quality of my cooking . . . Well, you can just close your browser right now.)
I’m doing great with my new chair. Thought I was ready to switch over to it this weekend. I pulled out the bucket of tie-wraps, a big box of Velcro, and packages of pipe cleaners. Then I rethought my plan. There was this one adjustment I wanted to make to the back first. Oh, so much better. Okay, now the seat feels too short. I needed to move the entire back assembly backwards. Comfy! Alright, now the footrest assembly can slide back. Aw, shoot! I’d have to drill holes in the seat frame to move it back. Humm . . . by reversing the brackets, it would move back an inch.
So, I’m going to have to wait until next weekend to switch chairs. This week is pretty busy with radiation and doc visits.
Radiation seems to be working on Lew’s hip. He hasn’t taken even a Tylenol in the last couple of days. But its wiping him out. He’s going to bed for the night at 6:30 and gets up at 6:30 in the morning to take Benny to the park. When the come home, Lew crawls back into bed for a couple of hours. After mid-day radiation, he’s napping almost until dinner is ready.
Poor Benny. Lew’s cut his walking in the park in half. They’re not going to the dog park after lunch. And their after dinner walk is a bit shorter. Even worse — all I ever do is take him to doctors’ offices.
Benny’s protectiveness of Lew has grown quite a bit. He’s started whining in the waiting room at radiation. He doesn’t understand why he can’t watch over his daddy all the time. I tried to distract him with training treats on Friday. Didn’t work very well. Let’s see . . . tomorrow . . . Cheese? Hot dogs? It’s too late to bake cookies . . . We don’t have any cat food . . .
Oh! Did I mention that I caught Lew giving Benny a McDonald’s sausage biscuit? Now, where’s that rubber mallet?