w2/d3

Sometimes, when you get to mission critical, it takes turning things on their head(s).  Kind of crazy that this early in the process and eating is the mission.  Last night it felt good to take in a small bowl of savory, brothy, vegetable soup, complete with a little ginger (recommended by a niece to further reduce nausea).  This was possible because the nausea feeling had already begun to fade on its own.

Determined to grant me zero peace, the therapy started producing a swollen mouth, inside.  Swollen means inflamed and in this case, inflamed also means pain.  So if pain means pain meds then I’m diving into the cycle and delicate balance of: pain med/laxative.  It  doesn’t pay to pretend to be tough and not take the pain medication.  Pain causes further stress and if it can be relieved someway, well, less stress is better than more stress, and less stress may enable eating.  This could segue into the topic of   breathing and meditation to lessen pain, but the (my) lead-time and meditation acumen to achieve said state is not quite there.  Maybe a topic for another day.

So waking up this morning and I’m feeling a quarter-ton better.  They were right, the chemo (or whatever) stuff did pass.  Received rad treatment number eight today and all went smoothly.  I’m now in the first slot at 7 a.m. each day so wait time will be appreciably reduced for the balance of the process.

After a meeting downtown at noon, I stopped off at the local organic market and bought a buffalo burger (all organic including the dead buffalo) and slowly ate most of it.  Now, however, the real problem is chewing.  The pain in the mouth is not insignificant.  Nausea went away.  Mouth pain took its place.

So the shaking things up is abandoning the meatless idea.  Maybe tomorrow tuna fish —  whatever the mouth can stomach.  As much as I don’t want to admit it, eating something less than ideal is trumped by just eating (to a point).  If I’m doing the canned liquid, there is no diet.  And sometimes it’s important to follow an urge.

The current challenge will now be balancing percocet with colace/senna.  Anyone who’s been through a movement experience like the one I had Monday morning will go to great lengths to avoid a repeat experience.  My brother called me today recounting his own.  Lesson learned:  pain pills require chaperones.  The only question I now have for the rad guy is, if the pain is this great so early in the process, where is the pain level weeks from now?  Am I really a first-rate sissy?