Story 15April2022: Nausea after chemo

The morning came, and I struggled still to get going. Sleep came before 1AM, an improvement, but still, it is hard. But, it is time to return to my old habits of being up early is usual for me. I manage 8:30.

I was thinking about breakfast when a box from New York City arrived. The box is from the deli and food emporium Zabar’s. So I contact the Smiths plus Jason and thanked them for their kind and the perfect gift for my birthday, bagels from NYC!

I was busy writing a longish blog, reading emails, and enjoying the bagels for most of Friday morning. I had a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast and then went all out with the lox and pickle for lunch. Thanks again, Smiths plus Jason. Laundry was also done as I needed some clothing. I usually did a load of laundry just before starting a chemotherapy cycle, as that would give me more than a week’s wearables. But, this time, there is no next cycle, yeah!

Please note that I plan to switch to finishing the blog at night when I feel a bit better. It will then be a genuinely daily blog with it ending at night. For the moment, I will stay with blogging every day, but usually, my days get pretty typical once I return to work and be pretty dull.

Nausea! It is +2 days from chemo, and I knew this is usually an unpleasant day, and it was. Nausea makes me one step from throwing up all day and even into the night. My body is reacting to the loss of the poison and starting back on making blood cells and so on. I am dizzy from anemia if I move too fast or lean over, I am nauseated from the end of chemo, I have trouble with my legs as my knees are suddenly not working right, and I am enjoying full-on allergies, including now itchy skin. I am grumpy, but I know by +4, this will all be gone, except for the allergies.

I managed to dress and rest for a bit. I have to stop a few times in the morning and just relax. I am running late again. I board Air Volvo and fly to Forest Grove Rehab and Care Center at 2ish. I arrive there at 3900 Pacific Highway, Room 44A, without experiencing more than the usual traffic and high jinks (i.e., someone braking for green lights because it might change, cars stopping to turn instead of learning to turn at higher speeds, and using the side of the road to turn, not breaking until the last moment but letting the car naturally slow down and thereby not alerting the drivers behind you that you are slowing, and so on). I pass the anti-Covid-19 checks and soon find Susie resting in her bed.

She is delighted to see me. I am now enjoying almost too much nausea, but I go with my fake-it-to-you-make smile and ignore the need to puke–it works. Susie is sad to hear that I am ill but happy to see me. Susie is having a good day, which is nice as she was in terrible pain from constipation–it has passed. We connected with her mother, Leta, on FaceTime, and we had a short chat. Susie fell asleep after a busy day of breakfast and lunch and sat in a wheelchair all morning and part of the afternoon.

There was no progress on getting Susie rehab services, and I will work with Glenda; she arrives on Saturday to help decide how to go forward. It would almost be simpler to move Susie to a new facility than to get the current one to redo the process. But we all have to remember that medical stuff is always like this, frustrating.

I leave Susie and head back in Air Volvo. I pickup Corwin on the way to Panera. They have returned the Strawberry Poppy Seed with Chicken Salad to the menu! This lettuce salad is excellent and seems a good fit for my nausea. Corwin ordered a, we later learned, average to poor quality baked chicken breast sandwich, which took 45 minutes to arrive. My soup was cold by then, but I was already running late and just enjoyed it–Mexican Corn Chowder, also new to the menu.

I was now running too late to do the grocery shopping and still nauseated. I rush home, change clothing, and head to the Good Friday service. I am only a few minutes late for the First United Methodist church service in the chapel.

Aside: I did get some polite remarks from Rev. Wolff that he has explained Maundy to me before and that a bit of education is good for everyone. But, daring another instructional response, I will comment that I dislike Good Friday services; they are too dark for me.

Sitting next to a baby grand piano in the small space that is the chapel was an experience of hearing every played note in detail. I could not hear the singing as I was in point-blank of Harold’s playing. Being tired, blasted by sound, and nauseated, I decided to not open my mouth singing and dare a more physical response to the death of Lord Jesus. I hummed along or just read the music and studied the notes blasting into my head. I can read music.

The service contained an opportunity to literally nail your troubles to a wooden cross. Soon the cross was covered in small pieces of paper held there by a nail. Again, I handed my troubles to Zophia as I was worried that nausea or dizziness would make my nailing of my problems more dramatic than expected by my fellow Methodists.

I put the electric cooking grills in my car before heading out; I have two. Zophia and I moved them to the kitchen from Air Volvo so that they would be ready to use on Sunday morning. I also covered the mysteries of pancake making with Zophia, who is looking forward to experiencing proper pancake making for Easter. All secrets will be revealed then, including what is the proper size of the pancake to avoid having pieces of pancake everywhere when flipping the hot cake.

I decided not to return home but headed to Sherri’s for pie. When I got there, the one off of 185th and Farmington in Aloha, I had a BLT as I thought maybe more food would help. It did, and I enjoyed some pie after my sandwich, my original reason for heading there.

Feeling better with nausea mainly in the background, I reached the house and made the bed, having washed the sheets in the morning, and then climbed in and tried to sleep. I often hear Susie’s voice as I fall asleep at night, and I wake up hoping she is back. Finally, I managed to sleep after midnight.

Aside: I got a text for Happy Birthday from the Philippines. Janet, a rock band singer I met in India years ago on a biz trip, still texting each other. She was one of two singers in a band that rocked the hotel bar five nights a week; I was in India for five weeks. I always ate at the bar, called the i-Louge strangely, at the hotel, The Asiana, and would bring “my little friend,” my Apple laptop (with apologies to Scarface), and do videos conferences with my Father or Nike IT.



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