I write tonight with the bag containing dose number four dripping away above my head and into the PICC line. In spite of the brief bout of nausea and the shake, rattle and roll bit last night, today I have felt great. Although I haven’t looked in the mirror to check it out, I have been told that my skin is quite red, from my scalp to my feet. My face does feel a bit like I’ve spent too long in the sun.
As of this morning, I haven’t gained an ounce. I’ve been told that I’ll likely gain 5% of my rather ample body weight during this first half of round number one. I asked the nurse who just came into my room how I was doing compared to others who have come through Duke’s HD-IL2 program. “You’re doing great,” she said, but I could tell she had that “I-tell-everybody-the-same-answer-to-that-question” look on her face.
One of the attending physicians came in today and somehow (you guess how) we got to talking about whitewater rafting. He lit up! He’s an enthusiast who has several runs of the New and Gauley rivers under his belt. I whipped out my iPad and showed him just enough video for him to know that he’ll be making a trip to Columbus sometime next year. Richard Bishop must have the best job on earth. I consider myself an able assistant in the task of selling our tri-community region to people around the world in our magazines, printed and digital, my blog and in person. We live in an incredible place at an incredible time.
Back to cancer land: I spoke to Dr. Mike Morse’s physician’s assistant today and she gave me high marks for how I’m tolerating this difficult therapy. I also realize that I’ve claimed this and will likely be slapped down by karma, maybe even by the dose that is dripping right now. But for right this moment, I am here with my best friend, surrounded by some of the best medical minds on the planet in a most beautiful city. All in all, I’m happy. I’m enthusiastic and I’m optimistic about the next few days and for what is to come.
Thank you for all the great Facebook messages and the posts on this blog. Jill and get together and read them every day and I want you to know that these messages of hope and encouragement are hitting their intended mark.
I’m going to regret this blog post if I’m up all night hugging the porcelain throne. Selling Buicks. Talking to Ralph on the big white phone. You get it.
Just as I’m prepared to sign off, the beeping of the power pole next to the bed says that does number 4 is fully integrated into my body. Goodnight!