Christmas Colonoscopy

Nothing like a funeral to brighten your day.  I didn’t know her very well.  I had just met her a few months ago.  I am really no stranger to meeting people and providing last minute planning services on their deathbed.  But this was the first client I had waiting to die from cancer since my own diagnosis.  She battled breast cancer but was eventually overcome by brain mets.  When I met with her in her home and discussed issues with her husband she reached over and held my hand.  She made a connection that told me she was hurting, battle worn, and probably a little scared.  A few months later I saw her obituary in the paper and felt I needed to be a part of her last celebration.

It is time for life changes my friends.  A speaker at the funeral, quoting another, explained that on our head stones we allways have two years separated by a dash.  The two years are of little importance, rather, it is what you did with that dash that makes the difference.

When you read the title of this post you should think the Announcer on the Mortal Kombat video game; “Round Two . . .FIGHT!” So, I did about 5 hours at my local chemo parlor today and I am now relaxing at home with my pump for the next 2 days.

For me the 2nd verse was same as the first. I had just had about 2 to 3 days of feeling good from the last chemo and its time for the next.  Now I stand on top of the side effect hill with extreme cold sensitivity and pain in the jaws which will slowly diminish to a comfortable level as I walk in for round 3.

It was an ok day at the parlor.  When I got there I finally saw some other poor bastard close to my age. It is usually all coots in there.  This guy is battling testicular cancer and lost a ball just a few weeks prior.  He got there before me and had possession of the remote control.  I generally read, so no big deal.  But then it dawns on me that this dude is watching Lifetime, thats right, the channel for women.  But it gets worse, he’s watching “Reba.”  When the hell did Reba McEntire get a show and who the hell is watching it.  So, I say to the guy, “Dude, are we really watching Reba on the Lifetime Channel?  Why don’t you grow a set of baaallllllllls . . . not the right choice of words.

Chemo Round Two . . . FIGHT!

I am one of those guys that does not shave on my day off.  I really don’t like shaving every morning.  So, when I went into the hospital for a week and was out of the office for almost 2 weeks I kind of let the facial hair grow out.  In fact it grew out more than I ever had in my entire adult life.

So, I was thinking maybe I’ll keep the beard until I beat cancer or it falls out from Chemo.  With any luck I will have a cool rabbi like beard in about a year.  But reality has set in that I am starting to look like an unkempt jackass. Plus, I have these goofy patchy spots and cannot really grow a beard like a real man.  So, I am probably going to shave it down to the Fight Cancer Lambchops or Fight Cancer handlebar moustache.

However, this takes planning.  I can’t go Abe Lincoln if I am going to want a moustache. That shit takes time to grow back.  So maybe I go down to the lamchops plus goatee and moustache.  Or is that a Van Dyke?  What the hell is the difference.  Then I can get rid of the goat and go down to the small moustache Brad Pitt was sporting at the Oscar’s. Then maybe down to that little square patch Hitler moustache.  No that will never fly.  No one can ever sport the Hitler moustache again. I tell you, you have to be a real dick to screw up a facial hair style for everyone else for all of eternity.

I’ll let you know when I get down to the “Fight Cancer” soul patch.

My first round of chemo has given me a side order of the traditional side effects.  The cold sensitivity was noticeable immediately.  Even part way through my first treatment I used the restroom and made the mistake of shoving my hands under cold water to wash them.  This sensitivity was most intense right after treatment, but a week later I still feel it.  I felt some flu like symptoms, not really nausea, but light headed and generally off.  The appetite is a little off.  Immediately after chemo I had the constipation and then it shifted, with no in-between, to a very loose almost diarrhea.

I am also experiencing some other side effects that I did not hear of prior to treatment but I am sure that it is due to chemo.  Ever since treatment I have had a dry blood crusted nose requiring almost constant digging just to breathe.  I also have shooting pain in my jaw on the first few bites of any meal.  That clears up after a few bites, but it is a pretty intense pain radiating into my ears. I have blurring in my right eye down to a small center dot that is clear.   During the chemo it blurred every time the 5 fu was pumped, but now it blurs if I rub it.

The weird thing about chemo is that almost anything can happen to your body and you write it off to a side effect.  Here is some of the other issues that I am writing off to side effect:

• Hemmoroids
• Dry Skin
• Dandruff
• Ingrown Toenail
• My Balls Itch (Luckily I think there are some clinical trials available to remedy the itchy balls)

I’ll keep you posted on the new side effects as the roll in.

I am receiving a FOLFOX + Avastin protocol every 2 weeks for 6 months.  Day one was a little long because they pump the Avastin over a longer period of time than they do in the future.  They accessed my brand spankin bright shiny purple new power port which was still a little swollen and sore from surgery.  I was the envy of all the old ladies with my cute new purple port.  And no RH, they didn’t give me a fuckin unicorn or rainbow bandaid, even though I asked.  They pumped the chemicals over time and I was in this initial treatment from about 9 AM to 2:30 PM.  Little side effects. When the pump the 5 fu I kind of get a little blur in my right eye.  Don’t know if this is normal or not, but no real big deal. I feel a little off, but not really sick.

By the way, who was the genius that named this drug 5-”F.U.” Couldn’t they have used some different letters?  I mean as I see it, I am scheduled for about 12 F.U.’s not 5.

On an another irrelevant note, as they plugged into my port and began pumping drugs into my body I started singing “Heroin” by the Velvet Underground in my head and have not been able to get it out all day.  Here is my favorite part:

Heroin, be the death of me
Heroin, its my wife and its my life
Because a mainer to my vein
Leads to a center in my head
And then Im better off and dead
Because when the smack begins to flow
I really dont care anymore

Now don’t get crazy, I’m not sure #1 where I could even get heroin or #2 what the hell to do with it when I got it, but the port would probably work well for that purpose.  I know, illicit drugs are not funny. But damn thats a good song.

Mimi, you emailed me today through the Colon Club Website.  I could not figure out who you were on the site or how to say Thank You.

Mimi, I had a shitty day today.  I start chemo tomorrow, and my Onc gave me my PET Scan results today showing Mets at my liver.  I was really hoping to be clean.  One more bite of the shit sandwhich.  The only saving grace was your email telling me I made you husband laugh.  That makes up for the struggle.  Thanks.

Please email me at christmascolonoscopy@gmail.com and keep me up on your husbands progress.  My prayers are with you (ahhhh I’m just shitting you, inside joke between me an Mimi.)

In Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield, viewing graffitti on the walls, makes the comment that you could spend the rest of your life rubbing out signs and could could not erase even one-half of the “Fuck You” signs in the world.  Well, I got one more “Fuck You” today that I will try to rub out.

I have included a few pictures of my liver from the Pet Scan results.  It was unfortunately bad news.  My CT Scan was absolutely clean. Had the surgery, and, hoping for the best, thought we had it.  Unfortunately, the scan lit up like a christmas tree showing 4 to 5 possible mets in the liver.  One more “Fuck You” sign.

The Oncologist has suggested that we move forward with chemo as scheduled, check it out in a few months, and then look at surgery to remove the mets.  So, onward we go.

So, I met with a nurse today for a little orientation.  She told me all the ways Oxipilatin and 5fu will fuck me up.  Here is what you can eat . . . can’t eat.  Oh, by the way, no alcohol.  Whoa Whoa Whoa wait one damn minute, did you say no alcohol?  Then the nurse says “is that a problem?”  Yea its a fuckin problem.

I’m not an addict here and this is going to sound a little petty and selfish.  But I am a beer lover.  Its my hobby.  I’m not drunk all the time, although I may get a little oiled up on occasion.  I tend to try one new beer a week.  I am a home brewer who makes his own hand crafted ales.  Beer is kind of a big deal to me.  Like a wine connoisseur.  So, this sucks a little bit.

The “no beer” news was the worst news of the day, oh and also I was also told that my PET scan shows liver metastases.