Tuesday, July 19, 2016
MRI update
Yesterday Dr. Hashmi's nurse called with the results of Friday's MRI. Everything appeared to be normal with no problems having developed over the past five plus years since the hip/femur replacement. That's obviously good news. It does mean that we don't know what's causing the pain or what caused the immobility of the right leg. Perhaps I'll start some physical therapy to increase the flexibility. Or perhaps I'll just think of starting some physical therapy and investigate mind-body connection without bodily involvement.
Sunday, July 17, 2016
and now for something completely different
A campaign oddity that suddenly came to mind as I woke up this morning: Remember earlier in the campaign when Donald Trump would suddenly stop his ranting to say that he had a meaningful poem he needed to read? He'd unfold his sheaf of papers and very unpoetically plod through something called "The Snake." What he thought it meant (Never trust anyone not named Trump?) he never said. Once the poem was read, he'd go on to other things. Still, whether Christian or Freudian or just curious, one might find the meaning of a poem called "The Snake" probably fraught, vexed, and imbricated.
I danced many times to Johnny Rivers singing "The Snake" and perhaps, Donald, its meaning may be clarified. For your enjoyment:
Saturday, July 16, 2016
le seize juillet
I was going to blog on le quatorze juillet (the French do not call their national day Bastille Day), celebrating the 227th anniversary of la belle France and the 71st anniversary of yours truly, plus discussing the results of that day's consultation with Dr. Hashmi. But the massacre in Nice hadn't been in the plans.
We met with Dr. Hashmi on Thursday morning. The last visit, a couple of weeks earlier, had been quite long; for the first time, this one felt rushed. Much had improved since the last time. Staying on a regular anti-nausea regimen had made a huge difference, and, with the unforeseen exception of yesterday morning, nausea had almost completely disappeared. So, too, with a regular schedule of taking appetite-inducing syrup (ugh!), my appetite has improved enormously. We also discovered that the supposed 17-pound weight loss of the previous visit was the result of a faulty scale. While I had lost some weight, it was nowhere near that amount--not had I put it all back on in two weeks as the scale indicated on Thursday. That was a relief, though perhaps they should recalibrate the scale. So in terms of G-I problems, life is much improved from two weeks ago. To prove it, my long-time friend and colleague, Virginia, continued the nearly 40 year tradition of taking me out for a birthday dinner, and I ate calamari, a salad, saumon poché, mashed potatoes, and a Napoleon.
My right leg is much more flexible than it was a month ago, but is still painful. We couldn't discuss that with Dr. Hashmi on Thursday because the MRI had been postponed till Friday. Because of the stent in my heart, I can't use an open-sided MRI. I'd had four or five MRIs before the one a month ago at the emergency room. The first ones hadn't bothered me, but the last one made me quite claustrophobic. I was fully enclosed, it was hot, and it lasted an hour. I wasn't looking forward to the one yesterday, but the hospital used a different machine, and it was quite easy. Usually, both MRIs and CT scans are done with and without contrast, but the tech said that the pictures were so clear yesterday that we could skip the contrast. Now it's a matter of waiting for the results. On the one hand, I'd like them to discover the cause of the pains and inflexibility in my right leg; on the other, I don't really want them to discover that something is wrong.
Now it's time to get a haircut. It's been a rather busy week, starting with a bath called the "Furminator" for Kimber. We got two estimates for replacing part of the driveway, or at least the estimates will be in the mail within a couple of days. I got a Salvatore Ferragamo braided leather bracelet in "Dutch Blue" as my birthday present to go with the brown one I'd gotten a coupe of years ago. My birthday present to myself is a new turntable. The old one had worked perfectly well for forty years, and then a couple of years ago, it gave up the ghosts of 45 and 33 1/3 rpms. I've got about 400 33s, classic and classic rock. My sole 45 is a record made by Mel Brooks's son Eddie and his wife Susan, who many years ago used to be my neighbors.
I'll update the blog as soon as I get the results of the MRI.
We met with Dr. Hashmi on Thursday morning. The last visit, a couple of weeks earlier, had been quite long; for the first time, this one felt rushed. Much had improved since the last time. Staying on a regular anti-nausea regimen had made a huge difference, and, with the unforeseen exception of yesterday morning, nausea had almost completely disappeared. So, too, with a regular schedule of taking appetite-inducing syrup (ugh!), my appetite has improved enormously. We also discovered that the supposed 17-pound weight loss of the previous visit was the result of a faulty scale. While I had lost some weight, it was nowhere near that amount--not had I put it all back on in two weeks as the scale indicated on Thursday. That was a relief, though perhaps they should recalibrate the scale. So in terms of G-I problems, life is much improved from two weeks ago. To prove it, my long-time friend and colleague, Virginia, continued the nearly 40 year tradition of taking me out for a birthday dinner, and I ate calamari, a salad, saumon poché, mashed potatoes, and a Napoleon.
My right leg is much more flexible than it was a month ago, but is still painful. We couldn't discuss that with Dr. Hashmi on Thursday because the MRI had been postponed till Friday. Because of the stent in my heart, I can't use an open-sided MRI. I'd had four or five MRIs before the one a month ago at the emergency room. The first ones hadn't bothered me, but the last one made me quite claustrophobic. I was fully enclosed, it was hot, and it lasted an hour. I wasn't looking forward to the one yesterday, but the hospital used a different machine, and it was quite easy. Usually, both MRIs and CT scans are done with and without contrast, but the tech said that the pictures were so clear yesterday that we could skip the contrast. Now it's a matter of waiting for the results. On the one hand, I'd like them to discover the cause of the pains and inflexibility in my right leg; on the other, I don't really want them to discover that something is wrong.
Now it's time to get a haircut. It's been a rather busy week, starting with a bath called the "Furminator" for Kimber. We got two estimates for replacing part of the driveway, or at least the estimates will be in the mail within a couple of days. I got a Salvatore Ferragamo braided leather bracelet in "Dutch Blue" as my birthday present to go with the brown one I'd gotten a coupe of years ago. My birthday present to myself is a new turntable. The old one had worked perfectly well for forty years, and then a couple of years ago, it gave up the ghosts of 45 and 33 1/3 rpms. I've got about 400 33s, classic and classic rock. My sole 45 is a record made by Mel Brooks's son Eddie and his wife Susan, who many years ago used to be my neighbors.
I'll update the blog as soon as I get the results of the MRI.
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Make America Again
Let America Be America Again
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed— Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. (It never was America to me.) O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. (There’s never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”) Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek— And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak. I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one’s own greed! I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean— Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years. Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That’s made America the land it has become. O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home— For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore, And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came To build a “homeland of the free.” The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we’ve dreamed And all the songs we’ve sung And all the hopes we’ve held And all the flags we’ve hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay— Except the dream that’s almost dead today. O, let America be America again— The land that never has been yet— And yet must be—the land where every man is free. The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME— Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. Sure, call me any ugly name you choose— The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives, We must take back our land again, America! O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath— America will be! Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain— All, all the stretch of these great green states— And make America again!
From The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 1994 the Estate of Langston Hughes. Used with permission.
From The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes, published by Alfred A.
Friday, July 1, 2016
7/1/16
We spent much of yesterday afternoon at the cancer center here in Topeka. Although we had good experiences at KU Med, I must say, said Ed Grimley, that now that we've been having many more visits and tests, it has been good to have the care that much closer.
Although this was the regularly scheduled three-month visit after CT scans, also on the agenda had been the problems of mobility and pain in my right leg (and now my left shoulder as well). But since the MRI scan had been postponed because the stent in my heart was incompatible with the open-sided MRI machine, that discussion was postponed. In the meantime, I'm taking time-released morphine twice a day to control the pain.
Added to the consult were the problems I've been having with diarrhea, nausea, and loss of appetite. I was worried about the CT scans, as it seemed to me that either there would be news to account for these symptoms, but in that case the news would be bad, or there wouldn't be any news, in which case we'd have to continue juggling all the variables that the disease and the multiple medications involve. The good news is that the CT scans were all normal; nothing had changed with the primary tumor, and there was no new growth of the tumors on my spine. The bad news had come earlier in the consult: that I had lost 17 pounds in the two or three weeks since my last weigh-in. Especially the last week, even the thought of food nauseated me. Even when food looks good, after a bite or two, I've been unable to continue--at the best.
One of the possibilities, of course, is that after five years I can no longer tolerate the level of chemo, but we had taken two weeks off and the symptoms had only gotten worse, so for the moment that has fallen to the bottom of the list. Another is that I have had gall stones for some time, and perhaps they have attached to and inflamed the lining of the gall bladder. Another is gastric ulcers. A long shot possibility--luckily--is that the cancer has metastasized to the brain, but there are no symptoms specific to brain cancer. In tracing the chronology of this, Mohamed brought up that it occurred at the same time I had a persistent cough, which had led to headaches, which had led to my giving up smoking but substituting vaping. Dr. Hashmi lit up with that one, since he feels that vaping is potentially as bad as smoking and that we have no ideas what chemicals are in the vaping liquid.
Originally, he was going to schedule an appointment with a surgeon specializing in gall bladder surgery, but he decided instead that I'll take two different anti-nausea medications regularly as opposed to as needed. I'll stay on the morphine until I've had the MRI (July 15th) and another consultation with Dr. Hashmi. I'll continue to take a combo of two anti-diarrheal meds. Add to all of these, the chemo, the anti-hypertension meds, and who can remember what else, and my innards are a veritable pharmacopeia.
After the consultation, I spent the next hour getting a saline IV to help ward off dehydration and exhaustion. I also got the bone-strengthening shot. While I was getting the drip, another patient sat down next to me and explained his cancer condition. And he listened while I explained mine. And then he said, "How has all this impacted your Christian faith." I replied--tactfully, I thought--that I'm not a Christian. This was incomprehensible to him. He had absolutely no response until I was getting up to leave. Then he asked me for my name so he could put me on his church's prayer list. I was tactful once more.
Although this was the regularly scheduled three-month visit after CT scans, also on the agenda had been the problems of mobility and pain in my right leg (and now my left shoulder as well). But since the MRI scan had been postponed because the stent in my heart was incompatible with the open-sided MRI machine, that discussion was postponed. In the meantime, I'm taking time-released morphine twice a day to control the pain.
Added to the consult were the problems I've been having with diarrhea, nausea, and loss of appetite. I was worried about the CT scans, as it seemed to me that either there would be news to account for these symptoms, but in that case the news would be bad, or there wouldn't be any news, in which case we'd have to continue juggling all the variables that the disease and the multiple medications involve. The good news is that the CT scans were all normal; nothing had changed with the primary tumor, and there was no new growth of the tumors on my spine. The bad news had come earlier in the consult: that I had lost 17 pounds in the two or three weeks since my last weigh-in. Especially the last week, even the thought of food nauseated me. Even when food looks good, after a bite or two, I've been unable to continue--at the best.
One of the possibilities, of course, is that after five years I can no longer tolerate the level of chemo, but we had taken two weeks off and the symptoms had only gotten worse, so for the moment that has fallen to the bottom of the list. Another is that I have had gall stones for some time, and perhaps they have attached to and inflamed the lining of the gall bladder. Another is gastric ulcers. A long shot possibility--luckily--is that the cancer has metastasized to the brain, but there are no symptoms specific to brain cancer. In tracing the chronology of this, Mohamed brought up that it occurred at the same time I had a persistent cough, which had led to headaches, which had led to my giving up smoking but substituting vaping. Dr. Hashmi lit up with that one, since he feels that vaping is potentially as bad as smoking and that we have no ideas what chemicals are in the vaping liquid.
Originally, he was going to schedule an appointment with a surgeon specializing in gall bladder surgery, but he decided instead that I'll take two different anti-nausea medications regularly as opposed to as needed. I'll stay on the morphine until I've had the MRI (July 15th) and another consultation with Dr. Hashmi. I'll continue to take a combo of two anti-diarrheal meds. Add to all of these, the chemo, the anti-hypertension meds, and who can remember what else, and my innards are a veritable pharmacopeia.
After the consultation, I spent the next hour getting a saline IV to help ward off dehydration and exhaustion. I also got the bone-strengthening shot. While I was getting the drip, another patient sat down next to me and explained his cancer condition. And he listened while I explained mine. And then he said, "How has all this impacted your Christian faith." I replied--tactfully, I thought--that I'm not a Christian. This was incomprehensible to him. He had absolutely no response until I was getting up to leave. Then he asked me for my name so he could put me on his church's prayer list. I was tactful once more.
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