Long day, but it's over; also a big Mac attack

The treatment in the previous post ended about 4:30. It was a long day, beginning with radiation at 8:40 a.m. The good news, it's over.

I'm pooped but still standing. Three or four additional chemicals are flowing through my veins and arteries. They will help me live and I'm glad they're doing their thing in there. (All three; not bad, eh?)

And as for Dr. Z. He liked my post about his iPhone, though he thought I took some cheap shots at Mac computers. Daughter Kim, a Windows supporter, even called them a bit "snarky."

Really, though. Macs are beautiful machines. They look cool, they have a neat interface and in spite of gobbling up tons of memory needlessly they really do zip along. So, Doc, here's to you and your Macs. May they catch up to Windows machines in my lifetime, and may it be a very long lifetime thanks to you. Amen.

Getting my chemo right now

It is about 3 p.m. and Kim and I have been at one doctor's office or another since about 8:30 a.m.

I've had my radiation, a visit with Dr. Diamond's physician assistant, gave blood to the vampires at Dr. Z's office, got the results (wow, they're good!) and now am being infused with a couple of cocktails of chemo before I'm reconnected to my chemo pump. I think there's one more chemo punch to go before the pump is hooked back in. I'm even blogging as this is going on (and Kim shot a picture of me typing this very blog item, which is above).

I'm not feeling sick at all, but that might be because the first medication they dripped into me was the anti-nausea medicine. I'm grateful for that. Actually had a decent lunch of chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, plus some sweet potato fries that Kim and I shared. Mmm mmm good.

As I noted earlier, my white blood count was really good. It went from 4 last week to more than 6 today. I'm no doc but I think maybe it was because I was feeling ill earlier, the result of Catherine's bronchitis or pneumonia or whatever it was. In either event several key numbers were up and others were down. But overall, Dr. Z said he's pleased -- and somewhat surprised -- that my numbers are holding up so well. I just hope this bodes well for my efforts to eradicate the cancer in my body. I know it will!

A new friend

I met via phone and email a new friend, one who has been free of esophageal cancer for more than a year. Actually, Steven Rich has been without the cancer since July 2006.

He went through a treatment program similar, though not identical, to the one I'm undergoing. He had seven weeks of radiation and two major chemo treatments, but he was hooked to the chemo pump three days a week, not 24/7 as I am enjoying. Initially, his docs put his chances at survival at about 15 percent. So he's surely beaten the odds already.

Steve is upbeat and was throughout his treatment. He told me a bit about his regimen. His chemo caused severe mouth sores; thankfully that has not happened to me. Tips from friends and doctors might have helped in that regard. His feeding tube fell out once after about 90 days and he had two hours to have it replaced before another surgery would be needed. Whew!

Since his surgery, at about the same location as my tumor, one of the most severe issues he's confronted is acid reflux-type problems. He's solved that with a recliner in the bedroom.

He said the surgery is weird but works, and, as he pointed out often, he's alive. So it's worth the sacrifice. His surgery was done down the throat, which he said was awkward. Other surgeries are done through incisions from the side. Not sure what the docs have in store for me. I'll ask tomorrow.

Steven said he thinks he survived for two reasons: His attitude and so he can help others, as he has done with me.

If anyone would like to contact Steven, his email is srich@aol.com, and he's happy to hear from anyone who writes. Steven is a techno-compu-kinda guy. He also rides a motorcycle and lives up near Detroit. But most of all, he is a CancerVivor; I'm still a future CancerVivor.

But like I told him, I will survive. Count on it.

Tick, tick, tick

My daylong chemo session begins in less than a day, and I'm not really looking forward to it. Today is really the first day I've felt nauseous for a lengthy period since this all began. Weakness or exhaustion are one thing, but nausea just isn't fun at all.

So I start my day early tomorrow, first going for radiation about 45 minutes early, then rushing from the Winter Park office to Orlando for the chemo.

Can hardly wait. Thankfully, daughter Kim will hang out with me, and we'll have this laptop as well as a few books and games to eat away at the time (thanks Karen Saunders for the Scrabble game and the puzzles book; they'll come in handy once again!!!).

Days like this, Nutren 1.5 with Fiber and artificial vanilla flavoring doesn't sound half bad.

Hair growth slows down

For a while I'd been shaving my head when I shaved my face, but now I'm shaving neither (see photo at right). I guess the chemo really is kicking in.

Not that that's a bad thing.

The past day or so I've been doing a lot of sleeping and helping Catherine get better. It seems to be working. She can actually speak now, which she couldn't for a couple of days. (I know, a great opportunity for jokes about keeping the wife quiet and all, but I'll pass.)

Today she and I were well enough to shop at the mall for a dress for Catherine to wear to daughter Jennifer's wedding in December. She found a nice dress and it will be great for her to wear to the wedding.

Meanwhile, daughter Aimee and boyfriend Luis visited Mom today in South Florida. They said she's looking good and was pretty wide-eyed and aware of all that's been going on around her. Which is good news. If she can stay off the vent when they remove it -- possibly Monday -- then she likely will be able to go to rehab and escape in time for the wedding. But I don't want to count my chickens, so to speak. We'll take that road one day at a time. (Was that paragraph cliche city or what?)

On Monday, I go to Dr. Z's office for a full day of chemo treatments; I can hardly wait.

But that will be the second and final such full-day infusions. Whew! Then, another 3 1/2 weeks of chemo and rads and I get to rest from this stuff. Believe me, I sure won't miss being attached to this chemo pump.

I will blog from the all-day chemo marathon, and will likely add something -- even if it's ala Seinfeld, something about nothing.

Catching up with Sandy Mathers

Had an early lunch with Sandy Mathers today at Jason's Deli. It's hard to believe she's been away from the paper for 15 months, but that's what she says it has been.

She caught me up on her European vacation and cruise and even had some tidbits of gossip to pass along, though most of those already have appeared on the Newsroom Briefing. She has good insider info; still a reporter digging for stories, I guess.

Earlier I had my radiation and second weekly X-ray to ensure all my organs are in about the same place so the targeting tattoos are still accurate.

Today also was a day of turn-arounds. I became Catherine's caregiver for a few hours today; she's sick with a nasty bug that likely is bronchitis but could be pneumonia. I think we're both hoping it's the former. She's in her second day of antibiotics so I think she's no longer contagious. Hope so, anyway. We've been keeping away from each other for a couple of days, and using Purell and Lysol spray when we are nearby. Thankfully, my immune system is still working, though the white blood count might be borderline by Monday if the trend in its decline continues.

I've been meaning to scan and post those blood counts but, frankly, been too tired to bother. So I haven't. I guess that's a decent excuse.