Worse Than a Bad Relative

This was taken a couple weeks after I first started chemo and before I started to melt like the witch in the Wizard of Oz. My kitty companion nurse couldn’t answer the phone or the door but she sure could lay down some stinky farts. This recliner I'm sitting in has been both my hangout spot and my bed since the beginning.

     After my first post about dealing with the scary C word for most of this year I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pen another one. After giving it some thought I decided to go ahead and do it. Back at the beginning before my hands started to be uncooperative and I felt like a double order of dog shit and biscuits 24/7 I started a journal over this bout with lung cancer.  


This experience has monopolized my thoughts and my days since February and as much as I had no desire to stay stuck in what many perceive as a negative it sure has been a learning experience. Those opportunities I've heard and often them called myself by the acronym  A.F.G.O, aka, Another F***ing Growth Opportunity. It sure has been. I figured tossing some pictures in the mix wouldn’t hurt either. I also have a request I’ll save to the end. For better or worse here we go.

Never too far from me

    

     When I looked back a few months before my diagnosis I can see how things evolved. I felt something may have been wrong for a while since I felt so lousy and run down on a regular basis for months before I landed in the ER. I considered getting an MRI for the pain in my shoulder a couple times since that had been a constant issue. Even with insurance the outright ridiculous cost made it easier to put off. I figured I'd pinched a nerve in my arm or something because the pain, the tingling or both would disappear from time to time.  


     The MRI on 2/5/16 found a mass about the size of a billiard ball. It was in my upper left lung and pressing on my throat and spine. A PET scan a couple weeks showed how lucky I am since it was all localized and hadn't spread to my lymph nodes. Even after I told the Doctor what had been going on he said there was no way of knowing how long it had been growing. I’ve never asked the doc for a prognosis though I know from my research that the numbers for Stage lllA adenocarcinoma suck. I decided early on, “Nope, we aren’t having this shit in my house”; it would be worse than the relative who drinks all your booze then leaves a mess in your bathroom. You know sooner or later they would eventually have to leave. I planned on making this turn out the same way.

     You sure need to keep your sense of humor because cancer will definitely try to steal your dignity. The daily task is not only keeping your chin up but also trying to find some humor in whatever form it takes. We've for sure had more than an abundant share of our own laugh out loud moments. Humor is definitely a port in a storm during an experience like this. You have to keep your mind turned to the good around you though not be afraid to yell Foul! when you need to.

Yes Virginia there was a chin under under all that fur. My Mrs. had never seen my chin, it took her a bit of getting used to. I had to shave my face for the last 18 radiation treatments. The reason for that shows up below. This was taken after round 3 of chemo about halfway through radiation.

            First the hair had to go, it wore me out moving it out of the way to eat and what not.Tying it back became too uncomfortable.

Then I had to get rid of the French Connection from my chin to my ears. Shaving with a blade became too difficult when I couldn't bend back to see my neck.  Getting used to an electric razor has been interesting endeavor.

Mom and Dad came from upstate NY to visit for a weekend a few weeks after radiation ended. It was such a seriously big boost to both our spirits that words just really can't  express.  Thanks and Love to you both.

These are, as I called them, my Radiation Kids . They had to talk me down off the ceiling that last week. I was so done with getting filled with poison and being zapped by lasers at that point. I had already graduated to my Doctor Who suspenders weeks before this was taken since my belt didn't have enough holes to hold up my pants.

This is the reason for the shave. I named it my Count of Monte Cristo mask.  My Mrs. wasn't a big fan since she knew how tough the last rounds of radiation was on me. The black buttons snapped onto the table and held this sucker right against my face so I couldn't move my head while I was broiled with lasers. It's stuck in a closet waiting for an indecent burial. The candy was a surprise for sure from my Radiation Kids  and I was surprised when they told me it wasn't something they often did. I figured I must have received the World's Worst Patient Award; my lovely wife Dani will attest to that moniker.

About 2 months after radiation and chemo ended and I finally started to put back on some of the weight I lost.

This is what a gallon of Magic Mouthwash(real name for it) looks like. This stuff is pretty much a life saver if you can't swallow without a lot of pain. Take it from me, don't think more is better, it is not. I made that mistake only once and was numb all the way to my stomach. What a thoroughly strange feeling.

     

     There are a couple of things left I feel the need to mention and one comes in the form of a request. If you have a persistent feeling something doesn't seem quite right about you go to the damn doctor that's what they're for. You are your best advocate. If you have questions, ask. Write your questions down prior to any doctor visits or tests. It makes those questions easier to keep track of since it is quite easy to get distracted by all the machinations you're put through during the process. The doctors and nurses will get tired of questions. Tough, there are much worse things then being the World's Worst Patient if it keeps you alive. If something doesn't seem right or changes in midstream verify what is going on. Everyone may be nice and appear helpful though incompetence too can have a smiling face.The Magic Mouthwash above was suggested by another former cancer patient and we had to ask for it since it wasn't suggested as an option. When you're being told you need to eat but everything tastes like black pepper or dirt nothing is very appetizing. If it also hurts like hell to swallow, food becomes another thing to fight through so make yourself more comfortable. This stuff is liquid gold and comes in different mixtures for different conditions.

     One of the things I've had to force myself to get accustomed to is I can't just bounce around the stores at this juncture. Out of necessity I've become one of those cart people that get in your way at the grocery store. Even now I'm pretty sure I can drive a car better than I can one of those. I now have somewhat of a deeper appreciation for what it's like to get around on wheels at least part time. Tooling around a store on one of these jokers is often not a lot of fun since they are generally not maintained worth a crap. Often found rickety is the phrase I would use. Still there are moments when it can be fun; like after you knock over an entire rack of shirts at Walmart. 

As a final request please be mindful of those folks in the carts since I could be one of them. The toes you save may be your own. 

Thanks for stopping by. Comments and shares are appreciated.

From the desk of  Greg Davis, thanks.

Off to the Vet

      We took our cats to the vet for their annual checkup and vaccinations. We had to go on Saturday, which made for a long wait. Everyone else that works had to be there too. We saw one of those tear at your heart moments when a guy come in to pick up his dog's ashes in a little wooden box. Pets are part of the family after all and it was tough to see.  Our two are usually not easy to get in the pet carriers before we go. This time when we brought the carriers into the living room their natural curiosity worked to our advantage and we were able to scoop them up and get them inside without a struggle. Of course we were regaled with sounds of discontent due to their incarceration, first with outrage, then fear to finally grudging resignation. When we got to the vets we hardly heard a peep. I’d imagine their experience was like the sensory overload akin to my first and only time in Vegas, occurrences which I know neither of us is in a hurry to repeat.  We had to wait a while for the vet once we got into the exam room.

 

                                              Oh crap , you can see us hiding in here.

                                             

                                           You keep watch over there, I'll handle this direction.
                                         

     We heard the vet working on a cat in another room. It sounded just like he was hollering, "NO!"

                                                      What are they doing to that guy?

     Finally the vet showed up to do exams, which really didn't take all that long.

                                                If we ignore you will you go away?
                                        

    
     They both got a clean bill of health other than some tartar on teeth and news that our two chowhounds are a little overweight. They made themselves scarce for a couple of days sleeping in dark corners while the aftereffects of their shots wore off then it was back to business as usual.

    

Four Legged Kids

 

                I've had my share of four legged kids over the years. I’ve had everything from dogs and cats to gerbils, rabbits, guinea pigs, hamsters, also fish and birds. Some of them were great pets others not so much. I won't ever have another fish tank. I gave my last one to someone I didn't like just to get rid of it. I realized how much noise it added to the house after it was gone. I had to turn the TV up loud all the time just to hear it. I thought I was going deaf. I didn't realize how much background noise it added to the house, the hum from the filter didn't seem that loud when I stood next to it. The first time I turned the TV on after the tank was gone I wondered why the hell it was so loud, really loud. It was akin to that day you're running errands jamming out to your car stereo. You shut the car off at the end of that great song you've heard a million times, but you just had to listen all the way to the end with the volume cranked. Later you come out of the store, start the car and blow out your ears because the volume is still maxed out. I should have known it wasn't a great idea for me when I got the tank because our cat never paid it much attention, though I think she was more afraid of the noise the filter made. No more fish for me unless its beer battered with fries and slaw.

                The first dog I ever acquired was mainly due to my inability to say no convincingly enough to a cutie with big tits. A few of my running buddies and I were partying at her house one night. She had a litter of puppies she was trying to get rid of and apparently I was drunk enough to send home with one. The next morning my seriously hung-over ass rolled over on to something wet as I was greeted with the smell of puppy breath and a little wet tongue all over my face. I realized later that the wet stuff I rolled in was puppy piss. Good Morning you are now a dog owner! That was the summer I spent in training as a motivational speaker living in a van down by the river, or the parking lot behind the grocery store, or the little rest area on a back road in the sticks, or … You get the picture. I had no business trying to care for a dog when I couldn't my own stuff in one sock let alone give a dog what he needed.  He was a cute little ball of fur that was part German Shepherd. I named him Friday because I got him on a Friday. Now that’s stoner originality at its finest for sure. I think I still have a couple of pictures of him around in a box under the bed. Doesn't everybody keep old pictures there? I finally realized he deserved better than me for an owner when I caught him chewing on my tire iron to exercise his little puppy teeth and knew I he would be much better off with someone that had more sense than I did. I found him a good home with a fireman I knew a couple days later and went back to living here and there in my van the rest of that perpetually foggy summer.

                I’ve probably had more cats than any other pet. I’ve had hunters that left me proof of their skill by the back door, a couple that wanted you to play fetch with them, one that bit your leg just hard enough to get your attention, another that begged for peanut butter whenever you opened the jar and a couple that could carry on a conversation with full sentences in cat language. To me cats are pretty low maintenance, though I know others would say no. Everyone has their own idea of what low maintenance is.

                Now I have a new critter experience to add to the list. For the past month my wife and I have been babysitting a pair of chinchillas. We were asked to help out a friend that needed some time to get her new apartment in shape before bringing the little guys home. I knew a girl way back in elementary school that talked about the chinchillas she had but I had never seen one before except in pictures. They are just balls of fluff, very fluffy fluff and incredibly soft. They weigh almost nothing their size is all from hair. Occasionally we let them out of their cage in the office to give them more room to run around and play. If you sat on the floor one would jump up and sit on your leg and you barely felt it. A bag of cotton balls weighs more. They are rather social after dark, though in the daytime not so much except when it was treat time. Their diet consists mostly of hay, though they did get a morning treat of a mini shredded wheat square each. At night they each got one raisin and man did they know when it was time for raisins. Little twitching noses would push through the bars in the cage and we’d get scolded in chinchilla if we weren’t fast enough with the raisins. They both made those little treats go all gone really quickly. They take baths in dust. There is a cylinder type thing in the cage that you fill with this special dust and they roll around in it. When they come out they look like they raided a flour sack. If chinchilla shit could be made into shotgun pellets you would wear your arm out pressing shells. They are without a doubt the shittingest critters I’ve ever been around. If turd size was more proportional to the amount we would have been in trouble. Chinchillas are surely sweet little animals and it sucks to think that in parts of the world they are raised just for the pelts. They have since gone home and though we are glad to have that corner of the office back it was a rather interesting experience having those two around for a few weeks. I think our cats miss the kitty TV entertainment value they offered.

               

My Dogs Meow

      I have dogs that meow, really. Well they are actually cats but they act more like the dogs I've owned. Both of them are almost always under foot requesting attention of some kind. I’m accustomed to dogs being almost constantly underfoot requesting pets, pats and acknowledgement, but not cats. imagine having two short furry doting moms follow you around the house whenever you go after getting up to do something and all the while you're regaled with a steady stream of kitty conversation. They are the most talkative cats I have ever had. Both of them have a rather extensive vocabulary of questions, rebukes and demands for food and other requests, often in stereo.

      After several years of not having a dog or a cat I have a pair of litter-mate sister Tabbies. They were hard to tell apart when we first got them leading to numerous conversations that started with, “Which one just did that”? It took some time for us to be able to tell them apart at a glance.

                            Top - Water Cat Bottom - Grumpy Girl

        As kittens they lived in shelters and foster homes after being abandoned in an apartment. My wife’s importunity shattered my resistance to getting another cat. So of course we ended up with two! She convinced me we needed to rescue them from a return to that fate again. After hearing their story repeatedly I was putty in her hands. My wife worked with the couple that owned them and they needed to find the pair a new home because their new apartment didn’t allow pets, though they were hoping to keep them together if possible. I knew after hearing their story they would require some work and patience, though my reservations were met by assurances to the contrary. It hasn’t really been all the difficult other than being woken up by being walked on or to the sound of a toy being thrown around in the middle of the night.

The first couple of days we knew they would be skittish and just set out food and water and sat back and observed. They did the same to us. They each camped at opposite ends of the living room for a while before they decided to explore. Little by little they seemed to relax, though it took time before they stopped hopping away when we tried to pet them. And even now after 4 years they still dance away when if we move to fast whenever going in for the pets. Miss Grumpy Girl still does that, though it seems more like a game with her now and they have both figured out that getting pets is a good thing.

After we had them a few weeks I started to pick them up briefly. Of course they struggled to get way and I’d put them down immediately. I kept at it and left them to define the terms of that situation. Eventually they both got to a point where they now realize it’s a good thing and ask for it their own special way. They each demand their own one-on-one with each of us every day.

The shy one we dubbed Grumpy Cat, due to her perpetual scowl is surprisingly the one most likely to ask to cuddle. She also never really got rid of her kitten voice either. It's odd hearing such a soft voice coming from a cat her size. Water cat has a good sized handful of various intonations to let you know you need to pay attention here. 


They are different as night and day. Grumpy Girl seems to only prefer toys that are designed so we have play together. Water Cat will play with anything she finds and can amuse herself continuously it seems. Her tail can be a great source of amusement for her and us though her sister will watch while crouching and shoot her a disgusted look as if she's thinking, "nothing like furthering the dopey cat stereotype sis?" Water Cat will also race you to the bathroom and jump to the vanity expecting the faucet to be turned on a trickle for a drink. We finally had to put a stop to that when every time we headed in that direction she'd hustle to the vanity and scream for us to turn on the water. 

It has been great having them here and I expect them to be around for a good long while. They have added more laughter into a house that already had its fair share. They are the little door greeters when we each get home from work at night. They are masters at finding missing hair-ties, though I'm sure they are responsible for the missing part.. Time to go now my presence is being requested at the bathroom sink.