Before I continue with my exciting cancer adventures, I want to note a few things. One, chemo is definitely having an effect on my ability to consistently keep up this blog. When I started, I was writing at least two or three posts a week. After this last treatment, I found myself unable to get out of bed -- forget sit at a keyboard and write. Also, the days off made me think about whether or not I want to relive these moments again through writing this blog. We'll see.
And third, I realize that there is so much that I can't remember. I was on so many pain killers, and I was in and out of the hospital so many times, it's hard to remember what happened when and which doctor did what.
As previously stated, I can hardly recall anything about the ICU. I do remember being moved into what they called the "step down" room. They also called it a quad as there were four beds and one nurse stationed in the room to provide immediate care or assistance. It's supposed to be a transition between the ICU and a regular hospital room. But while the ICU was quite and calm, this place in comparison was a mad-house.
I was mostly curtained off from the other patients so I really couldn't see too much, but I could hear. One woman wouldn't stop moaning. For hours, she went on moaning and asking for various pain killers. Every time I asked for or was given some sort of medicine, she would start carrying on about how she needed that as well. Moaning. Non-stop. The other guy I remember must have had some sort of trauma, because he was out of his mind. He waited around all day, hours, for a procedure, then changed his mind and refused to have it done. It was an endoscopy. I've had about twenty of them. The doctors tried to explain that it wasn't an operation, but he didn't get it, and didn't want to risk an operation by, "some doctor whose name I can't pronounce, and who's left me waiting here all day." The doctor actually came by earlier and got consent. The guy kept calling his wife, who I think was at work, and turned out to be a nurse. Go figure. Finally, she came and picked the guy up and they left. About an hour and a half later they returned, because the guy was having heart palpitations. After going over a lot of information, the guy agreed to let them do some tests on him. He got up and left again after over an hour when he found out he was going to have to wait for the specialists to examine him.
Meanwhile, I was up all night with the beeping of machines, as well as the craziness around me. Also, the nurses come in at all times in the night and take blood or record vital signs. It was in the quad where I first noticed my tube. I had a big tube sticking out of my gut, and liquid would flow out of it and into a weird plastic container. This kept the digestive track dry, so my insides could heal, but it was an awkward thing to have attached to you. It hurt like hell when they literally yanked it out of me a week or so later.
That's all I can remember for now. I hope more comes to me, and that I'm able to continue writing this blog.
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