Chris Writes Stuff

Phase 1 treatments are done.  I have another week to recuperate from the 4th and final biweekly dose of FOLFOX and then we charge into Phase 2.  Like a horde of tiny, intravascular, toxic, radioactive stormtroopers.  " For Great Justice! " I'm not gonna lie, Phase 1 really kicked my ass.  For example, I'm sitting here at 0500 on Sunday morning because insomnia.  I guess I'm making up for the more than 18 hours per day I was getting while the chemo was kicking my butt last week. Friday I woke up without nausea.  Small victories.  Saturday we went on a family bike ride.  It was three blocks each way and I was exhausted.  If my energy levels don't improve, I can always go sailing... just like Bob. My energy levels after FOLFOX.  Objects in photo may be cuter. Let's recap the journey so far: Phase 1: FOLFOX dosed every other Monday with a 48 hour hookup and a Neulasta Stabber™ as the cherry on top.  Effectively plu...

The chemotastic rollercoaster ride continues.  Let's start with the good news: The girls are coming home from Disney World tonight.  I can't wait to hear the stories and feel the hugs.   An amazing couple of guys came and installed a sump pump in my basement last Sunday.  Yesterday (April 13th) was the first day since March 20th that my basement was dry. The Mama Bird who lives outside my front door laid 3 more eggs for a total of 4 and continues to sit at her nest when I'm not bugging her. My Flexible Sigmoidoscopy last week showed a significant tumor response to the chemotherapy.  It was done without sedation so I was able to see the actual tumor on screen.  It's ugly, but smaller than it was.  Side note: don't worry about not being able to have anything to drink before your unsedated procedure.  An awake FlexSig is a more effective stimulant than a cup of coffee.  Like chugging a quart of espresso. 😮 Now, the bad news: ...

First, a disclaimer.  I've been riposting hardship with humor for as long as I can remember.  It's my healthiest coping mechanism and I've managed to defuse some gnarly situations with it.  I've even managed to find the humor in cancer and chemotherapy.  I can usually step back and look at the human condition and point and laugh at the insanity of it all.  But I don't think this post is going to be funny at all.  More Melpomene; less Thalia. On the bank of the Delaware River (not pictured: Melpomene, Thalia) Today (Thursday, April 6) my kids fly to Disney World.  Many months ago, my mom and her good friends Helen & Erik decided it was time for a joint family trip to Disney.  All the grandkids on both sides would go, along with parents and of course grandparents (Mom, Helen & Erik).  It was going to be a three-generation, epic journey to the Mouse House.  The trip was planned out in excruciating detail (as Disney vacations ...