Chapter 3: The war begins

You might notice that I have not mentioned the name of the hospital where I was almost killed. The reason for that is quite simple. Their lawyers are much more powerful than mine and their pockets are far deeper than mine.

Just when the smoke has cleared and everything seems to be back in order, a new controversy pops it's ugly little head up. The surgeon who put the feeding tube in told me to use 3.5 cans of the feeding formula per day. That posed a problem in that I could not figure out how to do half cans. I pondered that situation for some time before I had an "aha" moment. I could alternate 3 cans one day and 4 cans the next day. The result being that I would be consuming 3.5 per day. Simple? Yeah but to my feeble mind it was like understanding the origin of the universe.

I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself for having outwitted basic math when another wrinkle occurred in the space-time continuum. The nutritionist for my oncology group told me that with my size I should be using 5 cans per day. I calculated how long that would take and decided to go half way and do 4 cans per day and supplement by eating whatever I could. So-far, so-good. My weight is holding pretty well and I am what I would call stable.

I called this chapter a war because that is what we are doing. My oncologist and I have declared war on my cancer. Our arsenal includes some pretty powerful chemicals. Just the name of some of them is enough to strike fear in the minds of the most hearty of souls.

I read a few accounts of chemo-therapy and let me tell you. It scared me beyond reality. Nausea, vomiting, dizziness, hair loss, numbness and a plethora of undesirable conditions I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies. Well, the spirits must be looking kindly on me because I didn't have to suffer any of that list. The only casualty in the war is my sense of taste. Most of my favorite foods taste like something I would never consider putting near my mouth let alone eat. Just think of a "quarter pounder with cheese" tasting like charcoal. YUCK!

The place where my chemo is being administered is set up for patient comfort and convenience. They have free coffee, soft drinks and snacks for the patients. The infusion is done in a recliner with TV sets at each position. The process for me takes about 3 hours so I exercise the opportunity to take a nap most days. Some days I use the time to add some more to this story. They have wi-fi so I can keep up with my e-mail. Having my lap-top with me keeps me from getting bored and since I sell a lot of stuff on E-Bay I can keep up.

I made it through a dozen treatment cycles with no significant side effects. I was feeling really good like I could do this without much effort at all. Well, you guessed it. The best laid plans of mice and men ... etc. All of a sudden I noticed that I was having trouble buttoning my shirt. Numbness of the fingers makes it difficult to do the everyday tasks we all take for granted. Numbness in the feet is another little side effect that makes me walk like a drunk. I suppose it had to happen sooner or later.

It was at that point that my doctor decided to change my list of chemo formulations. I was all in favor of doing that since the original list had the ones which caused my new side effects. At the same time I begged amd pleaded with him for some time off to try to recoup my taste and the feeling in my fingers and feet. He agreed and at this point I am enjoying six weeks off from the chemical assault. I have noticed that some of my favolrite foods no longer taste like something you would flush down the sewer. The taste is not the same but it is by far less objectionable.