Thursday, August 24, 2006

8.24.06, IV Chemo Second Day, Round 2

Waves of fatigue is the best way to describe today. Getting an accurate description of the IV chemo day, however, is no simple task. For the Franky Scale, perhaps a 5. It needs to be sletp off, I need to simply recuperate. It will come.

Chemo, trip to Trader Joe's in a kind of delirium, some lunch, then to bed. Some crazy chemo sweats. Then to bed.

5 comments:

Tom C said...

Scott:

I look at your blog (what an ugly word) quite often. Frank has kept me abreast. I'll just say it as plainly as I can: It makes me wildly, chokingly sad to hear this news. I always think I'll feel better when I read the blog, but I never do. I'm happy that you see your family and that Frank makes the rounds, and more I know. It's lousy stinking news though. There is no way for me to ornament this. It's just bad.

If I had one thing to ask, it would be that you spend a little time writing something about the poetry that you translated, and know so well. Is there something that strikes you now, that wasn't there for you before? I'm always curious-- your opinions about what's happening there in korea, about what will happen, about words I should know from artists there. I was banking, like everyone does, that there would be a weekend somewhere in our future, maybe at some beach house, where we might smoke a cigar and you could tell me who to read something, and I might say-- why? You would tell me a sentence or two, that would stick with me, or maybe read me a a line poetry that I would remember.


So, maybe, pretend we're at Nag's Head, and it's years from now, cause the water is ten feet higher all around the world (it laps right up to the bottom step of the deck stairs now!) and we're a lot older and I am leaning in to light up the your Robusto. Maybe Frankie is driving in with some supplies and we're killing time on the deck. Tell me.

(On the other hand, that may feel like a waste of time to you. Or if it's too exhausting, forget it--easily. Do what you please of course. But I always expected to ask: what did you learn? Now, I'm asking.)

I am think about you. My brother calls you his brother and any brother of his is... a guy I should push around. I kid. As the brother of a brother, I expect you to hang tough. Looks like you're doing just that,
my best,
Tom

tossing salads said...

so sorry brother dear. i feel useless at times. just like when i couldnt make the hurt go away when the kids were younger. just want everything good for them. but it just doesnt work that way. i am soo sorry. sleep and hopefully youll feel a little better. had a surprise call from julia. gave her your info. good thoughts and lots of love. remember to hydrate.

Tom C said...

dude- correct that last graph for me? think-ing

thanks

34DD said...

Thomas - you're killing me!! Again with the tears at work (the old guy in the cube next to me interrupted his daily 10 minute coughing fit to stare at me) I can smell the ocean from here - even though I'd be in NYC college shopping w/CC. Irregardless (a made-up word the coughing guy uses way too much) whether you, Mr. J, decide to tell us all your stories/knowledge in person or not - please write them down. I think you are. You truly have a gift - as does Tommy-boy. I hope you were able to have a pain-free fun time last night w/ the princess. oxoxox

Anonymous said...

I was asked by Sheri to relay a message to you..... Sheri wants you to know that she loves you very much, and that she thinks of you every minute as she lays in her hospital bed, strapped down in a straight jacket with no way to get to a computer, she is there at the hospital against her will, threatening that she is going to leave. She hasn't gotten very far, cause she's still there with Steph by her side. She was slurring her words as we spoke this morning, she must be on some good meds. Sheri is such a sweet, gentle, caring person, lucky you, she's your sister.
Gerri