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This morning I took the catch-up dose of chemotherapy, and now I am done with Cycle 2. I will spend about seven days trying to get my health a bit more stable to start Cycle 3 on 10March2022. I managed to sleep another night without staying up to 2AM for the chemo. I get started about 8:30ish and read my email and some news. I did not do too much news as self-care. Can’t do too much war.

At 10, I take my last dose of chemotherapy for Cycle 2 and throw out the now empty bottle. I then open the packaging for Cycle 3 and put the new bottle in the bag of bottles for chemo. Ready for the next cycle.

The pain in my hands is gone, and the cold sensitivity is fading, finally. I can now hold a cold drink and drink cold water. My toes are not numb either. So I have survived Cycle 2 without disablement.

I manage the morning tasks. I have a yogurt for lunch and peanut butter on wheat toast for breakfast. But, of course, I always make a pot of coffee too.

Air Volvo travels to Forest Grove Rehab and Care Center at 3900 Pacific Highway, Room 44A, with a stop at McDonald’s for a chocolate shake and an order of fries. During the trip, none of the warnings are tripped on Air Volvo, and the extra-legal driving of my fellow Oregonians is kept to minor issues such as not using blinkers.

Yes, a tidepool fountain at the fast-food joint.

Susie is in bed as I am after lunchtime for her. Susie lets me know that she is not having a good day. Her tummy hurt earlier in the day, now it is OK, but Susie could not eat much. I ask her about various symptoms–including Covid-19, and she does not have any other problems now.

I made calls for her; she wanted to chat with people today. So, first, her mother, Leta, is on FaceTime. Then, “Call Barbara,” and I called Susie’s sister, and we talked while Barb was walking their newish dog, Sophia. Next, I connected with the Kopers, and we had a brief chat.

I then stepped out and found a chair and table in the rec room. The more permanent residents were doing Bingo in the hall. The facility is no longer in a Covid lockdown as there are no active cases, and so, while remaining apart at different tables, the residents can meet for games again. Thus, I got to hear them calling out Bingo numbers while I made a call.

I called Dawn, the hospice nurse at Bristol, for Susie and let her know that Susie was uncomfortable this morning. Dawn would look into it and call the nurses at the facility to monitor Susie and see if they need to take some action. The whole point of hospice is to be comfortable. It is not likely that Susie complained to the nurses and nurse aide, so they would miss this. You have to ask every day, “how are you?”.

Mariah sent me a few texts, and we met after I kissed, through a mask and with gloves on, Susie goodbye. It is always hard to leave, but I try to be there every day. I see most residents have few if any, visitors. I see a few visitors that, like me, come almost every day. So there is always traffic. Church groups and other folks could not come with the pandemic. I hope that they will be able to return when it is safer. Folks are a bit lonely.

Mariah and I have an early dinner. I have a terrible pulled pork over mashed that is the special for the day. The pork is good but drowned in an overly sweet sauce. I also have a Cuba Libre that is not very good. A total-fail for the Black Dog in Forest Grove. Mariah had wings, and a beer, which looked a better option. Stick to the Buffalo sauce was the only comment after two sweet sauced wings were not consumed.

I returned home after chatting with Mariah for an hour or so. Air Volvo did correct my lane handling once (yes, it has some limited self-driving capability). TV Highway has a few giggles that are not important, but Air Volvo always corrects if I don’t.

I took a nap and awoke to a second dinner; Corwin cooked a Blue Apron dinner. It was good and not huge, so I did manage it. Then, I watched the first news of the day on Bloomberg of the day.

I imagine Putin with a checklist for being a super villain. Yes, arrested children for protesting. Yes, shut down freedom of the press. Yes, invaded a local county. And now the new option is “shell the world’s largest nuclear power plant.”  I can see him looking up in my mind at his long desk, “check.”

Bloomberg is watching a total financial meltdown as the world is expecting now a major nuclear disaster. Money is moving into the US dollar and crashing yields to unimagined lows. The beginning of the world’s end is shown as just a crash in yields. I can’t save my 401K or anything at this point. Cash will be king.

President Biden and the French president make some calls. The shelling of the nuclear plant stops. The fires and damage are outlying buildings. We are not going to see the end of the world after all. The markets dive into safety halts. Cash is more like bishop now.

I turn off the news as my blood pressure needs no more testing today.

I read for a bit and then head back to my other chair at the table. Now that my hands seem to work again, I start working on my model of a fantasy balloon. First, I sew stitches around the edges of small pieces of felt. I then glue the pieces onto the balloon to look like patches to create more drama on the surface.

The paper I have torn into pieces and then glued to the craft ball does sort of look like a patchwork of leather, but it still looks more like paper than the surface of a balloon. I paint the surface with gray primer, and the felt too. I want the paint to stick and not just absorb the paper. I do this with a 1/2 inch brush I rarely get to use. I can see as the primer is absorbed and that some of the more paper-like features look more like a texture. Better. I paint 3/4 of the surface and will let it dry. I will finish the primer tomorrow.

The sewing made my hands hurt a bit. I have to be careful as I am more brittle now and can bruise easily. The pain and stiffness fade. I am just so happy to use my hands and have them work.

I read in bed after that and fell asleep without the chemo keeping me up; I am now on my break from chemo, my first night without it burning in my body. I sleep until a car warranty call on my cell wakes me in the morning.

I was surprised to sleep the whole night. It is also nice to finally have some sleep. It is hard to be so fatigued all day. It is also the last official day of cycle 2. I missed a dose, so I will have an add-on dose for Thursday morning, but it is still nice to reach the fourteenth day! My start of cycle 3 will be 10March.

Aside: This Thursday morning, there is no pain in my hands, finally!

I rushed a bit in the morning as Evan wanted to come over and see Susie and maybe play a board game with me. I managed to be ready about 11ish when he showed I had taken my pills, showered, dressed, and read all my emails. I even wrote the blog in a rush.

In the blowing rain, Evan and I proceeded to Forest Grove Rehab and Care Center at 3900 Pacific Highway, Room 44A. Dairy Creek, a usually small creek that runs under the Pacific Highway, is now again Dairy Lake. The last few days of more than six inches of rain have the water flowing down for the mountains and into the rivers and creeks. We usually have flooding a few days after heavy rain.

After following the entrance process, we headed to Susie. Susie was in a wheelchair by the nurses’ station. She was happy to see us and had breakfast there before we appeared. Susie’s speech seems a bit harder to follow, but she is also trying to get more out. Susie also seemed weaker and having trouble sitting up in the wheelchair. Still, Susie was happy to see Evan and me.

Evan and I then went to lunch at the Grand Lodge. This time my Compas Pizza was not undercooked and was great.

After lunch, we returned to the facility, and Susie was still eating her blenderized lunch. So I helped feed Susie a bit. She is still having trouble swallowing.

I managed to reach Leta and Susie, and her mother had a friendly chat on FaceTime.

Susie and Evan were at the table after Susie had enough of her lunch.

We spent another 30 minutes or so with Susie. Finally, she wanted back to her room as she was too tired to talk or for me to wheel her around the facility for my usual tour. I kissed her goodbye as the nursing aide started Susie back to her room.

Evan and I then headed to Hillsboro. I wanted a walk and to see some of the antiques they have there. We took a call from Dr. Peter Koper while parking. He and his wife are back from Texas and could be more easily reached now. I almost called him when in Forest Grove, but Susie was too tired for more calls. So we chatted a bit about Susie and my health and the war. I will try to connect with Peter this week so Susie can chat with him.

I walked through downtown Hillsboro and tried out a few favorite shops. Le Stuff is one of the best antique places with reasonable prices. They turn their inventory and seem to have connections with buyers and sellers from all over the country. There is always something that interested me; this time, I managed to resist a large radio for only $75 that needs to be rebuilt. The cabinet is in nearly perfect condition and by itself is worth the money. But, I do not need another project, so I pass. I next stopped by the local foodie shop, Bennett Coffee Roasting Company, and got some coffee, Columbia Geisha, and some saltwater taffy. I usually don’t buy candy, but it seemed exactly what I needed. I was sweating from the walk, so I cut the visit a bit short and headed to Beaverton.

The 649 Taphouse was just opened, and we claimed one of our usual tables. Evan was surprised to find a gal he knew at the next table. I begged off from sharing a table explaining I was in chemotherapy and needed to stay separate. We did explain to her and her 12-year-old girl how the game we were playing worked, The Architect of the West Kingdom. It was more game than they wanted, but Azul, which I recommended to them, was maybe a better fit for them. It is also cheap and filled with neat actual miniature tiles.

Evan and I played one game. I had a cold drink, the first one that did not burn me, a Cuba Libre. I used to drink them in India in hotel bars. The rum killed anything in the water, I reasoned. On the game, Evan remembered how to play and kept up the pressure on me the whole game, with him winning by three points. We did play without add-ons, but we kept all the extra cards in play. As I genuinely enjoy the game, I have added over the last three years the overly expensive painted meeples, metal coins, the unique cards by purchasing them online, and the recent add-on Age of Artisans. I have pledged for the Kickstarter for the following add-on, Works of Wonder.

The Architect of the West Kindom uses a new mechanic that has you place a meeple on the board to do an action. The action is increased by how many meeples you have there. You can arrest meeples in a location and sell them to prison if the meeples are from another player. Thus, getting too many meeples in one place makes you a target. You build buildings for points from blueprint cards, and to in the theme impress the king, that uses resources that your hard-working meeples produce. There is also a cathedral that needs to be built and a black market to sneak a shortcut in getting supplies. The game is easy to learn but hard to master and to win. The scores at the end of the game are usually close, with every point valuable. It plays fast and, even with five players, moves well, and there is no chance of a player falling so far behind to become a king-maker for other players as you have in some other longer played games.

After the drink and the game, and the walk, I needed a nap. Evan stayed for a bit and then left. I ordered dinner from the Gyro House with Erika and Michelle and SEC GrubHub cards covering the cost. Thank you, especially after I paid for Susie’s stay in Forest Grove! Someone buying dinner helps!

I read the rest of the night enjoying Old Man’s War by John Scalzi. I finished the book: a page-turner and military SciFi and Space Opera. I have started the second book.

I was back up around 1ish and finally to bed and asleep until 7:30ish. Nice to have sleep returning to me.

Aside: Dondrea got the copy of Bright Ages I sent her. This is a book I have recommended before in the blog.

 

March started here with gray clouds and light rain, a damp lamb start for March (the belief is that March begins as either a lamb or a lion). I also managed some sleep, so it was a later start. As often happens, the morning disappeared while I wrote the blog, took my pills, and read my email and some news. The videos of missiles hitting and killing people in Kyiv, Ukraine, are hard to watch.

I open a can of Michigan Vegetarian Chilli and have that for lunch. Pretty much tasteless bean-only chili. This was some of the food sent from the church, and I am trying to eat it as it was given to help people. The second can of chili might need some work next time.

I dress and am ready to use Air Volvo in the early afternoon. The traffic is higher and more complex to Forest Grove–the pandemic lockdowns are ending. I can see the lines for coffee and at fast food are long. I stop at a McDonald’s to get a chocolate shake to make up for the lack of taste in lunch. And Chocolate is always good. I am still suffering from extreme cold sensitivity, which makes the shake hard to drink–My throat feels like it burns a bit. But, it is so good.

Without issue, I managed the entry rituals at Forest Grove Rehab and Care Center at 3900 Pacific Highway. I find Susie is still in her room, 44A, and I just missed her in a wheelchair. Susie’s best roommate so far, Terry, is headed home this weekend for homecare. We are happy to see Terry get better, but we will miss her as she has helped Susie stay calm.

Susie is happy to see me, but she is trying to speak about various things, which is not understandable. Susie has not backtracked but instead is trying to get out whole thoughts. I try to understand.

Susie’s Aunt Joyce in North Carolina sent a stuffed animal for Mardi Gras. Susie was talking to the bear the whole time. This put a smile on her face, and she named the bear, of course, Mardi Gras.

The cleaner shrimp in the aquarium at the facility is gone. I told the head of the facility that many shrimp disappear during Mardi Gras, and they should not be surprised. That got a smile.

Susie chatted with her mother, Leta, on my iPhone using FaceTime. Unfortunately, I still can tire quickly and leave before I get too comfortable, and Susie has to wake me up!

Susie was still talking to the bear when I left.

On the way home, a pickup truck driver decided to run a red light as fast as possible. I had stopped for the light with some abruptness as it did seem to change unexpectedly, but I decided to not experiment with the law, physics, and possible paint removal from Air Volvo. The pickup driver went another way and survived the experiment.

I tried to call Corwin, but he missed my call and ended up walking home with the rain only restarting as he reached Clarion Street. I asked him should we get some sausage and shrimp (not that one in the tank–I did not take it) to make something for the end of Mardi Gras or head out. He votes for dinner out. I also contact Mariah, and we agree to meet at BJ’s for dinner (they make an excellent Jambalaya).

I lay down to read and nearly sleep past our meeting time. Mariah has a table for us in the bar. I order noodles as I am not sure I can handle the whole bowl of Jambalaya. I do a chocolate dessert and share it with Mariah. I am quiet most of the discussion at dinner.

I missed the President’s State of the Union message. I heard it was not terrible.

My energy levels are low, and I find it a bit hard to accept not getting anything done but lying around and reading. I would like to write and build something. It is hard to not work anything but the minimal. I know this will pass soon, but that does not make me feel better now. I am also a bit upset that I missed a dose of my meds and have to extend my chemotherapy one 1/2 day. I am a bit worried that I have gone stupid. Mariah reassures me that I am not missing any IQ points.

I get a note from Kickstarter that the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival in Portland will be again this October. I plan to be there and write an entry to the 500-word horror story contest. I won last year.

I decided what I need is Brain Cookies. So I order the whole series of Old Man’s War books by John Scalzi on my Kindle and start with number one. I liked the other series, and it is vastly cheaper to just order it all on my Kindle in one purchase. I can hardly put it down, it is better than a Brain Cookie, and I finally sleep near 2ish. I had to get up and take my inhaler, which kept me up. I should have taken it at 10PM with my pills. Next time!

Here is my winning story, 498 words, from 2021:

“Istanbul” By Michael R Wild, alohawild@mac.com

The map is old, German, and shows every building in 1926 Constantinople. A book on the map opens to a faded page. The cover is loose, and the pages are falling from the book, a diary from great granddad Alfred describing his life as a tourist back in 1926 in what we now call Istanbul. A clip of hair from my late granddad’s head. It was gruesome work to slip into the cemetery and raid his corpse. At least the smell was gone after so many years, and the coffin had resisted the weight of the earth for years. It was unusually reinforced. I will have to remember that detail. There is an incense odor of myrrh and other exotic items I found in ingredients of exotic tea blends on the Internet. A candle is burning made of wax created from the fat harvest from the corpse of a murderer and an even more unpleasant raid on a graveyard, mixed with mummy dust. A new use for a microplane kitchen tool, I think. I remember slipping into a Curiosity Show in Niagara Falls. There a mummy is a lost pharaoh in deplorable condition. It was not improved by me breaking into the case and using the microplane.   

My life was changed when Alfred died, and he sent me his diary and various other items. Using his notes, journal, potions, and arcane instruments, I became an Adept of the Weird. Soon I was learning terrible truths and summoning horrors that no law of our human science could explain. I stole, killed, and took what I would. I spoke incantations that would kill most men or women just to hear the words, let alone see what vista I opened—worlds and universes of burning chaos and power. Then, I harvested the power and used it as I wished, returning whole planes to quantum foam.

Now I can hear the hounds. They are following through the cracks and blasts and destruction I have wrought. They feast on the souls of Adepts who tread too heavily in the weird realms. The light in the room is the same, but somehow the dark is more. I turn to the words on the faded page. I ignore the corners in the room-filling with night. It is time to loop my soul.

I study the map, then look into the flame and breath in the incense, and imagine Constantinople of 1926 while chanting the words of power. I imagine standing on the bridge over the Golden Horn. I see myself there as Alfred. On the bridge is the tollman, and I reach into my pocket as Alfred and pay him to cross. I can taste the sea air and feel the warmth. The smell hints that the spice market is not far.

I am Alfred. The hounds have by now taken my body in my time. I have looped back. I am safe. I have great works to do.

The day started with me up about 8:30 and getting only a few hours of sleep. I was still having trouble sleeping and had to take my inhaler to feel like I could breathe. The pain in my right hand also requires painkillers; the cane use bruised my hand. I will have to be more careful next cycle.

I managed to get going early and was feeling better. So I wrote a blog after reading my email, read the war news, and caught up on the posts from Internet folks I follow (Violet Blue and Sexy Cyborg).

Pills were taken on time, but the pill count shows that I missed a dose in the last couple of days. So I will be more careful. The missed dose just gets added to the end. All that lack of sleep has really messed me up.

On less essential items, the earthquake insurance bill came. It is $547 a year to protect the house with the limited coverage that is available. It will still cost me, after insurance, over $50,000 to rebuild should the Volvo Cave be destroyed by an earthquake. The insurance is through the company created after the insurance companies took huge losses on the last big one in California, GeoVera. This is in addition to my usual insurance.

The house is from 1978, and the house is not bolted to the foundation using the earthquake-resistant process. The corners of the house are not reinforced for an earthquake. The foundation is poured cement without rebar reinforcement. These are all later building code changes. Thus, the big one may take down the house. But, the framing and wooden floor are solid for 1978, and the house is only one story, so it also might survive a significant shaking with minor damage. The house has already been hit by a falling tree and survived three more minor earthquakes.

I have paid for “make-it-code” coverage should the house be damaged and need not only to be repaired but partially rebuilt to code. This is covered in the regular insurance from Allstate, and I would recommend anyone living the 1970s house lifestyle to have this coverage.

I have chicken noodle soup for lunch and then see Susie.

Without incident, I reach the Forest Grove Rehab and Care Center at 3900 Pacific Highway, Room 44A. Susie is back in bed as I just missed lunch. Susie was looking tired.

I called Susan’s mother, and Susie and Leta chatted on FaceTime. I also interrupted Susan’s sister, Barb, dog park experience. Barb and Susie chatted for a bit; we could hear all the barking in the background.

Susie reads the card that Leta sent.

I stepped out of the room as Susie’s roommate needed some privacy. I sat in the lobby and watched the fish. I then stood up and was dizzy and saw stars. Anemia is back, and I need to be more careful. I am suddenly tired and dizzy. Time to go home. I kiss Susie goodbye. I chat with the nurse, Nichelle, so they know I am having this issue.

I was OK to drive and headed back to Beaverton. I stop by the gaming store, ten minutes or less from the house, chat with the staff, and pick up a game organizer for the board game Root. This is a favorite game, but it is one of my hardest to get on the table. Every player has a different game to play in Root, and the Law of Root rules combine all of the play into a workable framework. Thus, it is hard to learn, and I think nearly impossible to teach. You have to learn the game by playing, but each faction is a different game; thus, to master this game, you have to learn six other games! I have everything in bags in the now three boxes that make up the expanded game (plus a roll-up matt to replace the board for that premium experience). I think the game organizer would reduce the set-up time. The Cats are the basic game, and a new player can enjoy the Cats. I often play them and get beaten back as other factions suddenly start winning.

I am now drained and not feeling well. I spend the rest of the day reading and trying to not throw up. However, I still order dinner and eat it. Gary Mooney and Michelle Vondenkamp and SEC provided GrubHub cards for dinner; thanks!. I watch, as usual, the news while eating, PBS news.

I spend an exciting evening, not really, reading and not getting ill. However, I managed to sleep the night and catch up on sleep.

 

I was up early as I had some breathing issues. I got my inhaler and was better in about twenty minutes. Unfortunately, I am back to getting only about five hours of sleep a night. My hand is also painful. The joints are sore on the right hand, and more ibuprofen helps.

I collected all my clothing, stuffed them into the washing machine, and did laundry.

I watched the church service at 10:30. Before that, I had breakfast and took my 10AM pills. While listening to the church service, I wrote the blog, a typical multi-tasking for me.

Susie surprised me by calling me at home. I attended the 1:30 church group to discuss the sermon and share our thoughts and our cares. The nurses had helped Susie reach me, and Susie was concerned that I was not well enough to see her. I reassured her that Corwin and I would visit her soon.

I also went online and took some financial actions to cover all my expenses and pay the twenty-six thousand bill to cover Susie’s care until April. I then wrote out the check and made a copy of the bill; my printer is an all-in-one HP and can do copies (I pay a monthly fee for ink sent to me from HP) and put it all in an envelope.

It was raining, and the drive was slow and safe. I drove Air Volvo to the Forest Grove Rehab and Care Center at 3900 Pacific Highway, and we soon were in Room 44A.

Susie was a bit out-of-sorts but happy to see Corwin. I stepped out to let Corwin and Susie chat. I delivered the payment to biz office and feel so glad that there are no doubts of Susie remaining safe in Forest Grove while I finish my chemotherapy.

I connected Susie with her mother, Leta, for a FaceTime call. They chatted for a while. Then, as I did not want to drive in the dark with the ranging rains and wind, we headed out about 4PM. It is always hard to leave, but I try to make it there every day.

Corwin and I stopped by Carl’s Jr. for fav burgers. We get back home as the rain and winds increase. The rain is heavy all night. I lay down and blink; it is after 8PM. Corwin makes an excellent Blue Apron spice meatloaf, a late second dinner.

I continue to read and take my 10PM pills, but sleep is hard to find as I had slept the afternoon to evening. I finally slept about 1ish.

I thank you for reading. As you imagine, I leave out some items. For example, I usually cry at least once a day. Mostly, the sadness is about Susie and her condition. The pain, the fatigue, and the side effects of chemotherapy are just a journey and do not hit my emotions. But, as I go forward with the chemotherapy, my feelings are closer to the surface. Thus, I cry most mornings as at that time I have yet to face the day, and the realization of what I have to do that day can be crushing. But then I make coffee, read email, and start the next day of the journey.