Its been a week again since I’ve written anything. Yet I still don’t know what I have to say. My thoughts and feelings range broadly and I’m up and down like a committed bipolar. If these pages are meant to be anything like cathartic release I had better start paying them more attention.
There is very little to report on the health condition front. We are slowly getting used to living with the constant threat of a burst or leaking ileostomy bag. I think we’ve been lucky so far. There have been a few sudden leaks as the skin patch became unstuck in the middle of the night but nothing as messy or disastrous as I imagine possible. I have learned to half-sleep with one hand on my abdomen always alert for the slightest dampness.
I love my sleep. I have never been shy of naps. Lately I feel like the next sleep is all I look forward to. I move from the bed to the sofa and can’t wait to go back to bed. Sure, I go for short walks around the block or down the hill to the mailboxes, but it still seems like my life is all television and waiting to sleep. I need something to do. Something productive.
While I was trying to decide what to write next, Wendy called to tell me she just got off the phone with the Cancer Clinic. We will be starting the first of five or six rounds of the heavy duty chemotherapy on Friday. Be careful what you wish for. I wanted something to occupy my time. Well, I guess I’ll have that.
I’m going to go call the liver surgeon’s office and let them know we are starting chemo again. They wanted to have a CT scan done first so there is something to measure against in a couple of months to see if the cancer is responding to the drugs. Hey! Something productive to do!
I’ll try to be a better correspondent. Thank you all for your patience with the patient.