Friday I resumed the chemo at the same dosage as before. The four-day hiatus was a good and, I think, necessary break, though it didn't lead to the abrupt changes that I had hoped for. The stomach problems abated most, but not all, of the time, and my appetite improved. The nausea disappeared entirely. But the fatigue continued with 7-8 hours of sleep at night plus two rather long "naps" every day. (The word 'naps' seems somehow inadequate. A nap sounds like a happy and harmless indulgence, rather than a forced cessation of mental and physical energy.) I have to say that I wasn't overjoyed after the telephone consultation with the doctor on Friday when we decided to stay at the previous 600 mg. level, and I unscrewed the cap on the bottle of pills and swallowed three of them. I have to be grateful for what the chemo does: it's been almost two years since the cancer metastasized from the kidney into the bones. And it's been 15 months (see? I really can't stop counting) since the oncologist said the prognosis for stage IV kidney cancer was less than a year. Although the quality of my life has been diminished in some ways, I'm still alive and kicking (more strongly with my left leg than with my titanium and plastic laced right one). I'm not in any kind of serious pain. I'm still engaged with people and books and issues. So the "new normal" resumes with three Votrient pills every morning and a sense of promise mitigated only slightly by the sight of those small blue pills.
I had the teaching dream again last night. This time, the class had already begun, and at least I did know where we were meeting: in the stacks of the basement of a library, an arrangement that meant I couldn't see the entire class at the same time. It was the first day of the last semester I was going to teach, and several retired colleagues had come to visit the class. There was also another class meeting in the same space, so I had to compete for attention. What I didn't have were the right books. For some reason, I had decided (and then forgotten my decision) to change both texts for my last semester. When I held up what I thought were the texts, the students all whispered, "Those aren't the books you listed." I had never seen the two texts I had chosen before and didn't have copies. The reader was called "Jury Double" or "Double Jury," and as soon as the rather disastrous first class was over, I went scrambling through the library (which was under reconstruction with plastic sheets and dust everywhere) to try to find a copy. Luckily, I woke up before having to face the class a second day.
I've generally avoided talking about politics in the blog in part because I'd just be preaching to the choir--and an intelligent and well-informed choir at that. (I think, however, we're having brunch with an actual Republican today.) I couldn't bring myself to watch even one minute of the Republican convention, though of course I've read lots of commentary (most of it irreverent) and seen several clips. Part of what seemed to be interesting was who wasn't there, most significantly the last Republican President and Vice-President. An exception was made for Condi Rice, since a black woman was a coup. And when even Sarah Palin is banished, something weird is going on. Yet having turned their backs on representatives of their last eight years in power, the Republicans advocate returning to the same old policies. The dominant (and mendacious) narrative seemed to be that we pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps, and if you can't, that's your problem. I saw clip after clip of speakers talking about how poor their childhoods were, and how through their own initiative ("we built it") they triumphed. Does anyone believe that Mitt and Ann lived in a basement apartment and ate pasta and tuna off an ironing board? Probably no more than that Paul Ryan ran a marathon in less than three hours. Ryan seems to have gotten the most attention for the sheer number of lies in his speech. Clint Eastwood (the father of seven children with five different women, and thus clearly a spokesman for family values) obviously got the most attention for the sheer spectacle of his performance. So Mitt was upstaged by Ann, Paul, and Clint. And the party has alienated African-Americans, Hispanics, gays, many women, and, I would think, many older voters. I can't imagine what my life would be like now if the Ryan voucher program were in place for health insurance. Who would insure me? At what price? And yet somehow the endless polls tell us that the race is close. How can this be?
We're going to Lawrence today for a buffet brunch with our friends Laura and Francois in a historical hotel there. The food is always good at the brunch, and since what I find appealing is unpredictable, a buffet sounds like a good choice. Should I bring up politics with Francois? It's so rare that I talk to a Republican, let alone one that I like, that I think I'll violate the proscription about talking politics and religion at social occasions. It could be fun.
Howard, I'm sure you must be going to the Eldridge--hope the trip turned out to be enjoyable!
ReplyDeleteHoward,
ReplyDeleteAlthough I guess I should be flattered that you think I'm such a tolerant person that I could live with a Republican, I can't have you malign my husband this way! We'll have to get together again soon and cover politics. You should know better--remember our Obama inaugural celebration? Let's hope we can host another!
Laura