Saying it Once

I've pretty much discarded the whole point to the blog, because I don't write nearly enough and I end up telling the same news repeatedly.  Somehow I've got to get more information across here, because I'm not getting enough information across.  I'm frustrated and miserable, and if I could just do this more often it would clear my head just enough, I think.

Cancer is shitty.  Livers can be killers.  I could write a whole lot about vomit, as I have become so adept at the act.  I wonder how much I could write about curling up in one corner of my bed, staring at the same walls as the light changes through the day, with the computer eight feet away, so far, the bathroom a distant and necessary goal.  When I'm not dehydrated.  There's agony, and it's amazing that a human in 2011 could simply be left like that.  Can't they just keep me in the hospital sometimes and drug me enough to sleep peacefully? 

Anyway, that's all the past for the moment.  I'll start at the beginning.

I was off chemo for a month, waiting to begin the oral chemo.  The break wasn't pleasant, as my liver became more palpable.  Literally, I could palpate my liver, and I could practically feel it in my rib cage, in my bones.  Nausea was constant and then it progressed beyond just that.  I made it to work everyday during all this time and taught first grade, and I can't tell you how.  Mints, diet coke, ginger ale, and thank goodness for a sink in my classroom.  I could hold it together for the kids and then get home and sleep until the next morning.  Then it got worse.  On Friday the 30th (the same day I finally started the oral chemo) I walked into a wall at school and left early.  By Sunday I was begging to go to the hospital, but Ken was hesitant.  We finally talked to an oncologist that night, who suggested I might just want to wait until the next morning, when I could go to Penn for fluids.  Unfortunately, I woke the next morning, considered all the prep work I'd have to do for a sub, and went to school instead of a hospital.  That was stupid.  I did last half the day, somehow, but that wasn't the greatest three hours of learning for 17 first graders.  Thank goodness they're great, and we have a pretty good auto pilot.

Penn, what a relief.  I got my fluids and strong ativan, and blessedly, prednisone.  Prednisone makes such a huge difference, I was fully ready to get back to the kids pretty quickly.  And here I am, functioning to a degree I would've found unimaginable last weekend.  These ups and downs are crazy, but at least there are ups. 

My back hurts, and my left leg isn't acting right.  I can't figure it out, and it's more annoying than anything else.  I'll certainly take it after what I dealt with last week.  I hope it clears up soon.  On Wednesday Ken is going in for surgery on his shoulder, with a tough recovery.  I'm pretty stressed about that. 

So far 2011 has been one enduring nightmare.  With Ken recovering from shoulder surgery and me in this condition, should we take a cruise in December?  We booked it in March, and we were so excited to take such a big family vacation.  Now, we're just not optimistic about anything good happening in 2011 (see Phillies post season for more info).  Ken will be in pain, I'll be in a corner of a bed, and it'll rain the whole time.  We have trip insurance.  Should we push the cruise back to March or April, or just try to go for it in December?