Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Happy Hump Day

I can't seem to sleep more than 3-4 hours at a stretch unless I knock myself out with sleeping pills. Then I go to the other extreme: sleep 8-10 hours, wobbly and foggy for several more hours. But I usually settle for those 3-4 hours and get in a nap or two during the day. If it's after 4 am, I just get up and start my day. Sometimes Molly gets up with me, more often she gives me a "yer nuts!" kind of look, and sleeps for another 2 hours.

Today, I was up at 4:30am with my usual three wake-up calls: bladder, bone pain, and night sweats. By the time I relieved myself and got out of a soaking nightgown, I knew I'd be up for the day. That's okay; I actually have a couple things to do today and I've decided I do much better with a list rather than just let the days slide by. I have to make a very rare trek to Walbarf, finish making some soup I started yesterday, and sweep the whole house. Things are going to start growing out of the floor soon if I don't.

Speaking of barfy, I got the high sign: I qualify to stay on the Clinical Trial, at least for the time being. That's a big relief. Much as I dislike the nausea, I have three big reasons to stay with the program. 1) There are no steroids on this particular trial. (Cue Hallelujah Chorus) 2) The drug is in pill form. I'm getting to be a very "hard stick" from 1.5 years of steroids... and 3) I'm nauseous but not actually barfing. I find nausea (barely) bearable, barfing is not. So...yay me!


OOPSY! Mom sent a concerned note upon reading Afraid So. "I don't remember reading anything as down, as depressing, as cheerless." Wow - I was so surprised -- I actually laughed out loud when I read it. I wrote back that I'd thought the poem was hilarious, that it was very tongue-in-cheek, a funny perspective on pessimism. (I admit to wondering if I sometimes sound like that!) Apologies to Mom and to everyone who found the poem to be a huge downer. That truly wasn't my intention and I'll double-filter my selections in the future.

Of course, Mom concluded, "I hope that that poem didn't bring you down like it did me. I think I'll go drink some spoiled milk and walk on some crushed glass. That ought to make me feel better." Hmmm. Where do you think my sense of humor came from?


John said...

LOL about your Mom! But I don't think your weirdness can be totally blamed on her.

I liked the poem. It reminded me of the movie, "As Good As It Gets," where Jack Nicholson plays the pessimistic neurotic who somehow falls in love in spite of himself.

tim's wife said...

1. Great news about the clinical trial.
2. I feel for ya with the sleep loss. Thanks to my bladder and hormones, I've got the same deal going on. AND ALL THESE CHANNELS on my TV and there's nothing on but Girls Gone Wild infomercials.
3. I hope you won't filter at all.
Some of us realists out here appreciate ALL your posts! Just tell Mom you're humoring us. I LOVE
"As Good as it Gets" I just watched the "Bucket List" Enjoyed that too. I think I'm attracted to crankiness in general!!! :o)

Michelle@Gotchababy said...

seriously--that's what your mom emailed you?!? too funny! I found the poem funny in a "what next" sort of way, which is currently my life! (not feeling pessimistic, but it's always something!)

Glad to hear you made it into the trial--here's hoping it's a good one that will produce results!

georgejjl said...

It is great to hear that you are still on the trial. Hopefully he trial drug is working to kill the cancer cells and letting the normal cells alone.

The nausea and change in your sleep pattern seems to be your most difficult side effects.

Maybe you could ask your doctor if you could try Queasy Pops to help you reduce the nausea?

Good luck and GOD bless,


La Cootina said...

George, we don't know each other and I don't want to misinterpret... but enough with the commercial endorsements. I'm dealing with my nausea. Thanks for your good wishes.