Tuesday, June 20, 2006

6.20.06 The Quickie

The Franky Scale: 6, a haze of bagged meds, pre-meds, post-meds, and whatever meds you like to imagine.

The Lesson: To write in verse is to throw a wrench in communication's gears. At least in some cases. Be grateful I'm not going to versify today, he said.

The Situation: IV chemo treatment all day with Larry & Lefty. Questions, questions, questions. Perhaps some answers too.

The Condition: Just about too tired to type.......so...


spacely said...

Love you poopie head. Did I just say that?! Get lots of rest and eat lots of food. Tell sheri and steph to go out and get your favorite...kfc!!! I couldn't believe the way you loved that!!! Or maybe it was the company you were with that day;) ;)!!! Remember who loves you..........

[disenchanted princess] said...

questions are good, but of course answers are usually better. especially if the answer is what you want to hear =) i'm on the edge of my seat, in suspense as to what these q&a were all about . . .

congratulations on another successful round of chemo protonix man! just think . . . this time next week you'll be chillin like a villian in the city that never sleeps (or approx. 60 miles from but the truth isn't nearly as sexy, unfortunately)

work on feeling better? xo

david said...


A long way off in a way different time zone, so zoned, stoned, or toned, at-toned, at oned, no twelved, a different zone entirely, still even so, the start of rain, rainy season, from now until then it will rain, the forecast is rain rain, which falls when it is raining, looking ahead, fore casting, a trout rises where the rain falls on the stream surface, we fall with it, the fly set cast whipped out over the water, a way to say hi, a primitive phone, hello fish, a flick of the wrist if you are good at it, but me, I wrench my arm, my shoulder hurts for days, the ferris wheel stops for a moment, the basket swinging like a creel on a belt, there.

Slarry said...

Spent the day at the Seattle Cancer treatment center with my brother---- Let's just say, delicately, that chemo therapy scares the pooh out of me. My brother is so strong-- just lays their quietly while they are infusing poisen into his body.
We got to ask the social worker, and the Physicans Assisant so many questions. After it was all said and done-- I wa so pooped and frozen with fear, we came back to Mr. Jone's frinds condo that they so generously are letting us borrow, and passed out asleep until just now.
Can only imagine how Mr. Jones is feeling. ....
Someday I would like to write a little story about my brother lying there, in a somewhat relaxed position, with a bunch of tubes filled with medicine being pumped into him--- in the hopes this will bring him some additional comfort and time. But then when IV infusion time is over-- that same, sweet nurse, comes in, tripled neon gloved, full body protection gown and her mouth covered with a mask--- and I asked her, are you afraid you are going to get something ... pass something on to Mr. J .. ? No, she says, " I do this to protect myself from the medicine, the poisen whe've just given your brother... it is highly toxic "
And what a comforting feeling that brings ... I'm just bewildered and now, have even more questions.
I love, adore, respect and honor Mr. J, my brother-- he is strong, courageous, brave--- No wonder he is too tired to type. After dropping him off at his apartment, we went back to this lovely condo someone so generously offered us, and I just passed out cold-- fell asleep at 4:;30 pm and just woke up a few minutes ago. What is it-- 3:30 am in the morning?

Come to find out-- none of the emails I've been sendinfg out, little up-date and pictures to everyone, aren't arriving. Sorry everyone,
But we are here with, enjoying and learning as much as we can with Mr. Jones. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to have dinner. And then we are taking my brother to Costco-- if he feels weel enough, and getting a huge load of gatorade, food, paper towels and anything nelse he might want or need.
I wwill try and re send the pictures. Sorry abot the emails. They were polite, nice and informative as well.

More later-- thank you so much for all of your warm wishes--
and to spot, I love you so more---- you are cheebus!!!!!

Mr. Jones said...

princess: you lost me on the q&a that you refer to? where are they? what are the questions? what spurred your comment? i don't see them in comments or the recent post or two, so i'm wondering if my drug interactions are successfully travelling all the way to 60 mis near the city... ok, fill me in on this secret. Mr. J.

[disenchanted princess] said...

clarification, then a quick story.

"The Situation: IV chemo treatment all day with Larry & Lefty. Questions, questions, questions. Perhaps some answers too."

is what i'm referring to, so spill some details mr.

story, heard second-hand but nonetheless relevant and a little crazy.

a little background for those that might be unfamiliar, the chemo drugs come in little IV bags, that are vacuum sealed. before they are hooked up to the IV, they need to be 'tapped' to start the drip.

at a hospital that i won't name (not SCCA), there was an incident where the nurse accidentally punctured the bag as she was trying to tap it. somehow, the rupture was enough to cause all the drug to leak out . . . this now constituting a large scale chemical spill. they had to evacuate the entire area and call in the HazMat team in fully bunny suits to clean it.

chemo drugs are indeed gnarly, but what's the line . . . "if it doesn't kill you it'll only make you stronger??"

tossing salads said...

princess, yes. i just emailed mr. jones with the thoughts i had in my head. gown, glove AND mask, just to give an iv. i dont care what it is. but it is what it is. my cancer hospital, a bright room with all the others with their bags in recliners, looking out to the beautiful wasatch mountains. either with friends or family members to keep them company. sleeping reading doing whatever their hearts desire and no gowns, or masks. just gloves.