* Chapter 5 * 22 February 1997

** CONTAINS X-Rated Material : sexual innuendo, secret code information, necrophilia, SCATology, adult language -- MUST BE OVER 18 YEARS OLD or cover those portions of the text with saran wrap **

22 February 1997

Here I am again,

As I mentioned in my last note, since last Monday, 17 February was Presidents' Day or whatever, I didn't go into the Hospital until Tuesday, at 8:30. Bernar, one of my FEW friends, accompanied me. Went to Dr. Schaebler's office, the chemo guy -- he explained what the side effects might be (WOW, what a list!!), then sent me over to get admitted. I weighed about 198 pounds.

After waiting in inpatient admissions a while -- they couldn't find the paperwork that Dr. Schaebler said they sent the day before -- and paying the $12 for 4 days of telephone service (wanted TV, but didn't have any $$ left!) I was finally on my way to room 477a, Mercer Medical Center, 446 Bellevue Avenue, Trenton, NJ 08607 -- it said it would be a "double" room on the form, BUT I was all by myself! What fun! Or so I thought.

Tuesday/18Feb:

- first I was told to go to radiation for my first treatment -- JUST WHAT I LOOKED FORWARD TO!! So I dragged poor Bernar along with me (he has had a cold since he went to Mardi Gras a while back). After the walk through the week before I knew what to expect. Got laid on the table, they lined up the tattoo dots on my scrotal area with whatever they line them up with, then I got the zap, first from the front, then the machine head turns around and I get another zap from the underside. Then we went to the fourth floor of the hospital and found room 477a.

- got the usual top and bottom hospital garb on, was affixed to the usual bed that goes up and down (BUT, even though I sort of enjoyed having it up so I could basically sit, the pulling of the sheets caused the sheet in contact with the clammy rubber-like mattress where my feet would be to slide up -- so when I try to sleep at night, my feet are against this coldish, amphibian-like surface, which is not the most pleasant -- my apologies to amphibians, with whom I spent a great deal of quality time during my teen years!!)

- then they brought the IV (= intravenous) apparatus in, that colorful box on a pole with lots of buttons to push, that beeps when something unusual happens (like "occlusion on patient side", "low battery", "end of infusion", "patient just died", etc.). The nurse got the 1000ml infusion of 5-FU (5 Fluorouracil) out of its little suitcase, using 2 pair of rubber gloves (whenever they did anything near me -- which really made me feel great!), hung it on the pole, then opened up a brown paper bag -- to which I asked, "does that go over my head??" Of course I was trying to be extra nice, because I was really thinking whether she was going to put it over her head while I sing the Star Spangled Banner or something! In any case, the 5-FU is photosensitive (= light sensitive) and they have to shield it from direct light (BUT, the IV tube, which must be 2 meters long was not shielded from the light!), so the high tech way of doing this is hang a brown paper bag over the plastic infusion bag.

- then came the finding the vein for the IV, which theoretically should not be a major problem. Nurse 1 tried 2 veins on the left hand -- where I wanted to have the IV for ease of wiping myself [the SCATology part] -- BUT she "blew" those two, then tried to stick one on the right hand and she blew me again! "You have such nice veins", she repeated again and again. What good are nice bouncy veins if they don't work! So Nurse #2 comes in and tries the left hand -- she blew me too! Then, finally on her second try, the connection worked on the right hand. Gott sei dank!! (Ger., Thanks Be To God) So I finally got hooked up on the 5-FU, an anti cancer stuff, very caustic. This was about 15h (=3pm), and the treatment was for 96 hours of continuous administration at 43ml/hr. I have never been blown 4 times in an interval of some 15 minutes -- might make the Guiness Book of World Records?

- so now I am hooked up to this machine, in a nice white bed -- and I am starved to death! So I unplug the thing, walk with the whole mess to the nurses section and asked where I could get some coffee -- in the pantry, so off to the pantry I went, BUT it had a combination lock [Secret Code]. Shit, what to do? So I grabbed the first nurse who passed by and asked what the combination was -- 312. WOW, so I went in a got some decaf.

- dinner now arrives -- a meagre portion of whatever -- whatever being a never ending variety of absolutely luscious fare -- better than what I usually eat at home. The only thing I was somewhat upset about was that I could not pick my menu until Wednesday, which meant that I got whatever they sent up until Thursday. I learned that I could "write in" ginger ale, what I wanted for night snacks, DOUBLE PORTIONS (which I did, needless to say), etc. Had I know all this on day 1, I would have eaten more!

- Bernar arrives for an evening visit.

- I did manage to begin The Spirit of Abstract Expressionism by Elaine de Kooning -- the wife of the artist Willem de Kooning (she died in 1989 -- he is still "hanging in there" in the Hamptons with Parkinsons). I had no idea that she was such an astute observer/writer for art magazines since the 40's. The book is a collection of her essays on different artists whos' work/methodology/insights she painstakingly dissects and analyzes. From where they get their pigments, what paper/ground they use, brush type, use of sketches, etc. to their strokes, placement of work in progress and many other details -- I would have liked to have known her because I have always reveled in details of things.

Wednesday/19 Feb :

- radiation after breakfast

- Doug, a friend from the "Cancer Chat" room on aol (Mondays at 22h/10pm - Keyword: GLENNA) called me from California -- WOW, I was so happy to hear from him -- I think he had lymphoma and was cured.

- A call from George, and Patty also, and another evening visit by Bernar, who brought me cookies and fruit, and that days local newspaper.

- the doctor decided that since I came in on Tuesday instead of Monday, and as they wanted me to be done by Friday, but at the speed of the 5-FU infusion (43ml/hr= 43 milliliter per hour) I would not be done until Saturday evening -- he changed the rate to 48ml/hr, which remained until the end.

- I was given Milk of Magnesia on two different occasions because I could not seem to "evacuate". The first time, nurse #5 gave me the little container ( about half the size of what I would take at home), I opened it and gulped it down -- guess it should have been well shaken because a clumpy mass slithered down my throat, sort of similar to a mouse head after it had been skinned (before it was skinned one can still note the ears -- I felt no ears!).

- Mitomycin (= mutamycin) was administered as a single shot thing, another stuff that is supposed to gobble up the cancer cells. The syringe looked like it could have been used on a horse -- I calculate that it contained about 20ml of the stuff, at least, dark blue/purple. It had to be hooked up to the IV and a 1000ml (= 1 liter) bag of saline solution. The nurse ( another one!) had to push the plunger, stop, allow some saline to enter, push some more in, stop, allow more saline -- it is so highly caustic! SO, after the first push or two, she decided that she had blown the vein, so a new spot had to be opened! After two tries, she opened a new site on my left hand. The whole procedure lasted about 15 minutes, after which I was hooked up to the 5-FU again.

- by this time I had discovered the lounge/TV room at the end of the hall, would unlpug myself and scurry over to see if anything was on -- WOW, just in time for the Burning Zone! It is not the easiest thing to drag this pole with stuff hanging on it, BUT I had to get out of my single room and at least see other people, etc.

- another night of slimy amphibian skin on my bare feet!

- sleeping was not the easiest, worrying where the IV was placed, trying not to bump it into anything, keeping up with the urinals hanging from the bed (urinated on a average of once every 2 hours). Waking to hear loud talking in the halls, etc.

Thursday/20 Feb :

- radiation after breakfast again

- was given the first of 3 IV doses of Kytril (1mg in 50 ml of the usual .9% saline solution), at 12 hour intervals -- is supposed to alleviate the symptoms of nausea/vomiting associated with the chemo. Incidently, each and every nurse/whoever walked in to see me asked "do you feel nausious"? I complained to Dr. Schaebler that if another person asks me if I feel nauseous, I would throw up right in their face!! Not too many people asked me that again, for whatever reason. And, no, I did not feel like vomiting during my whole hospital stay, although my stomach was getting a bit tightish due to the fact that I couldn't defecate ( = shit). I was given 3 little narrow caplet shaped things to facilitate bowel movement.

- Doug, the aol dude from California, called me again.

- Dr.Schabler brought me a package of oatmeal raison cookies (Peperidge Farm) when he came to visit me -- a complete surprise because I only mentioned it to him the day before and never really expected him to bring them! I also told him that on my morning wheelchair stroll down to radiation, we usually pass a door that has a MORGUE sign on it, and I always get the urge to stop in to see what a real morgue looks like [Necrophilia content]. He asked if I had ever seen a dead body (he plays up to whatever I say/ask/mention -- which is ultra KEWL!), to which I replied yes, at wakes, at Villanova premed (which I unfortunately never stayed with! Not the corpse, dummy!), and on the X-Files! BUT it is not the same as seeing a real "live" one! I said I would have to pick my escort correctly -- an older woman would probably not react too positively if I asked to be wheeled into the morgue, whereas a younger male might have enough curiosity to do it. The wheelchair pusher on the way down that morning must have been about 80 years old, a shortish white, white-haired male, obviously a voluntier, one of those heaven sent people who donate their time and energies to the common good, and the one on the way up from radiation was an older black woman, who I doubted would do anything but screem if I said wheel me into the morgue.

- Bernar visited me again in the evening after work, bringing 2 more packs of the same oatmeal raison cookies-- which were a pleasant change from the ughy gram crackers they have as snacks.

- one of my nurses was Stevi, a black female, very exuberant and lively. When Doug called, she was with me, and I started telling him about this fantastic nurse, what was her name, Michael (Jackson), Count (Basey), Lionel (Ritchie), oh, yes, Stevi (Wonder)! She seemed to enjoy it. She then brought me a little stuffed bear with an IV taped to its arm! I was shocked -- this is what life is supposed to be about! Then she put a sign up on my little bulletin board : HUG ME AND I'LL CHEER UP! And she proceeded to hug me. WOW, I felt great -- in spite of everything. (the sign remained on the bulletin board until I left, and only 1 other nurse hugged me -- probably because I asked her to read the sign!).

Friday/21 Feb :

- 3h (= 3am), nurse comes into room to look at IV spot. Says vein is very red and that she will have to change it! Holy shit, again?! So in two tries (she blew me again!) it was now on my left arm, not my hand. Just perfect!

- after breakfast (double portions!), I decided that I wanted to walk to radiation, so when the young black dude showed up, I said "let there be feet" (and feet were made!). The walk was not as far as it seemed in the wheelchair. Dr. Schaebler saw me while I was down there and asked me whether I had been to the morgue yet -- I had not. That spurred me on, so when the same young black dude (never had the same one take me down and bring me back up before this) and I, walked past the morgue door, I asked him whether he had ever seen the inside of the morgue -- "no, he replied. I checked to see whether the door was locked -- it wasn't, needless to say, nobody escapes from that door! -- so I opened it and found a surprisingly small number of refrigerator doors (about 8, I think). The one near the door had some male name on it, and there was a diagram on the center of the wall showing, I assume, how to place the stiffs on the board, as if it matters! I was taken back at my reticence to open one or two doors to check out the inhabitants, BUT I did not. Maybe next time!

- still "no shit Sherlock"! So now they give me a bottle of some liquid stuff -- was supposed to be awful tasting, but it wasn't too bad. Supposed to work in 3 to 5 hours, sort of like the other things they gave me. If this didn't work, the next options were an enema and/or trinitrotoluene ( = TNT= dynamite, invented by the namesake of the Nobel Prizes)

- the priest (Roman Catholic) visited me for the second time. He is Indian (like INDIA). I asked whether he heard confessions -- he does. So for the first time in several years I went to confession -- curious, when I was saying the Act of Contrition I started crying/sobbing. Then when he gave me Communion, I started crying again. I am not the usual crying game type person, unfortunately!

- Doug called again.

- Bernar visited in the evening -- he still has his cold. Told him he should take care of himself more. When I told him about the Priest and all, I started to cry again. Weird!

- WOW, three shits so far, and can foresee another 2 or 3 before the night is out. That liquid worked.

Saturday/22 Feb :

- the nurse came into the room round midnight and said that the IV site would have to be changed because it looked reddish. I told her it looks less red that the last one, and that it would have to do until the IV ended in about 12 hours -- if I died, so be it!

- good thing they moved a comode near the bed -- I had to use it several times, changing my bottoms each time-- even had to have the bed changed in the middle of the night. So when the laxatives work, they really did!

- at 2 am the infusion had 480ml to go until the final end of this round of chemo (at 48ml/hr = 10 more hours). My last nurse was called RosaLee, from southern India. Very nice. Said that most families in India have at least a girl named Mary -- which doesn't sound very Hindu to me, until I asked her, Catholic Indian families? Of course!

- The end of the IV came at 12:32pm. I was very relieved to be unhooked from the machine, to be able to walk around uncumbered. At 12:55 a cold front came through and the wind picked up and the rain came down in sheets.

- Bernar picked me up -- the rain had stopped, it was cold and windy.

- the first thing I did when I got home was shower!! Could not do it at the hospital due to the IV, or so they said. I lay in bed for an hour after the shower -- was coldish, almost shivering.

- The cats and dogs were apparently happy to see me again.

General Observations:

1. the nurse shifts are 8 hours-- I was in the hospital for about 13 shifts and saw that many different nurses!! I would have preferred having the same one at least a couple of times.

2. was I being used as a teaching aid for nurses who don't have a lot of practice at installing IVs? I sort of got that impression.

3. the nurses give good blows!

4. my temperature hovered from 99 (since my basal temperature is below the "normal", that was a slight temperature), 99.3, 99.7, 100 during the process.

5. my face started to break out in little bumps -- one of the side effects of the chemo. Bumps elsewhere, hands, legs. Could be due to not being able to shower?

6. Finished some 104 pages in the de Kooning book.

7. I brought home 3 packets of Sanka decaf

8. brought home 30 packs of sugar -- never use it for anything--my guests, few as they usually are, might like it in their coffee.

9. feel sort of listless, head achy, tired, not too much energy.

10. weighed myself before leaving the hospital. 189.5#, a half pound more than when I went in! Guess it must have been the great food and all.

So now I go in for radiation Monday through Friday until 17 March, when I return for the second round of chemo!

The next couple of weeks should see the side effects of the chemo kick-in: lower blood counts, lowered resistance to anything and everything (can't go to malls, be around lots of people), bone marrow suppression, and a load of other neat thingies. Guess I shall have to wait to see what happens.

Over and Out.

Sonny

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