It’s Sunday morning and I’m laying in a hospital bed.
That’s really not where I expected to be.
I’m wearing the magic green gown that allows everyone on the sixth floor to see the unimaginable parts of me…sorry sixth floor.
It’s been a weird week.
The BIG news is that we have approval to proceed with the stem cell transplant at Duke. We already have a Doctor assigned.
We meet with him and the transplant team very soon.
We started the new intense round of gnarly chemo drugs, trying to find a new strategy against the belly bully.
Everything was going swimmingly.
I was getting slammed with the poison cure, steroids, anti nausea stuff that looked like milk.
Then Thursday came rolling around.
things got weird.
An unwanted, unrelated guest showed up to the party.
I suddenly had muscle pains in my belly.
I felt like I had done about 1,743 sit-ups.
(Not that I’m really familiar with that feeling).
I was belching like a gastrointestinal challenged goat. Loud and very forceful.
My face looked like a fuzzy cherry tomato.
The straight shot of steroids that I was receiving seemed to have done a number on me.
So I went in for my treatment and tried to convey the level of next level pain I was feeling.
I met with a doctor and she pushed around on my stomach.
I had a quick CAT scan, with the promise that we would see the results within a few days.
I finished treatment and we went home.
I was still hurting bad.
Then we got a phone call, the CAT scans were in, which is a miracle in itself. The results weren’t good. I had free air on my stomach and we needed to get to the ER ASAP…you know it’s serious when they start throwing initials at you.
We were taken back to a small pre-op room where we learned we had a unwanted party guest named Diverticulitis.
Emergency surgery was required.
I got out of surgery at 2:00 am on Friday morning, We had some really good friends hanging out with Diana and Delanie in the waiting room, that means so much to me.
I woke up with a Colostomy (hopefully temporary). It’s like I have a whoopee cushion attached to me. It even makes whoppee cushion noises, that will be fun on elevators and other small places.
Yesterday, because of a beautiful combo of anesthesia, disease, and chemo drugs,
I started puking up unbelievably vile things around 11:00 am yesterday…
And I didn’t stop.
So last night I got a nose tube at 4:00 am that is pulling some unbelievably black gravy out of my stomach
THAT has really helped.
Although getting it into my nose was not a super fun sensation.
I feel better.
Once again my wife has proven what real love looks like.
She has given me sponge baths, helped me go pee, and stayed by my side.
Sometimes love and marriage are hard, but if you leave when things aren’t fun anymore, you miss out on the things that matter.
So, it’s Sunday morning and I laying in a hospital bed.
I’ve made new friends, but I’d rather be somewhere else.
In the meantime I am existing on ice chips, not a real popular diet plan.
I have heard from so many friends.
Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts.
I love you!
carbonated joy 