4/15/2013 7:31 PM
Monday twilight, almost windless, what passes for balmy here, birdsong mixing with the mechanical sounds of cars and airplanes, plus a few human sport yells.
I made it to work today, definitely a victory of sorts. It’s all bitter/sweet now, this being my last
week, but I must move on, and I don’t think they’d let me change my mind if I
could change my mind. I just hope the
new financial mechanisms work. And I do
feel some excitement (tempered by not wanting to tempt fate) that my new
retirement life will be successful.
We will postpone restarting Sutent until after the goodbye
party. But the side-effects have never
really gone away, neither the diseases nor the symptoms. One patch is reviving itself from Temsirolimus
days. It can’t be that it is cyclical or
of some simple waveform; it seem perversely unpredictable. But, anyway, it was
good to get to work and back. It may take
a few times to ferry my stuff back and forth, and that’s a 140 mile roundtrip
each time.
Tomorrow, some toe work, but I don’t expect that to slow me
down much more than I already am. Wednesday, a brain MRI; I
consider myself fortunate that the Oncologist does not hesitate to prescribe
this test, because I am worried. I've forgotten if we have
scheduled an interpretation session; I think not yet.
Saturday I’m going to get equipment and training for
monitoring my blood because of the pulmonary embolism; someone will actually
come to our home and teach me how to do it so I don’t have to use the clinics
for this anticoagulation measurement.
The way one clinic did it versus the way the Oncologist office did it
had almost a 24 hour difference. At the
Oncologist they could prick my finger and give me the results within 2
minutes. At the clinic they had to
puncture a vein and send the blood to another city and wait a day. Such discrepancies irritate me and so I asked
for the machine the Oncologist’s uses for me to use at home. I figured if I can learn to inject my belly
twice a day and I can easily do this. When
the health care workers ask me if I felt I could do this myself and I tell them I’m already pricking one hand for
diabetes and had to shoot up my belly for weeks, they stop, and advance me one more
step toward my goal. I've been
trying to get this for some time now, all because I don’t like their inconsistency. There is one sensor that I find very
difficult to turn off and that is my sensor for inconsistency.
Spring time in Kitsap definitely makes it easier to reach
for more positive energy. I’m being
positive, right? I don’t think I have crossed the nag line yet. What was that ol' song Dad sang? "...whenever was heard / a discouraging word / the cowboy was kicked off the range." We don't want that just yet, do we.
