I remain in the hopital for what is now the 22nd day. After the 5 days of chemo they have to keep me under observation while they wait for my blood counts to rebound, specificaly white blood cell counts (why's it gotta be white cells, thats racist dog) and my platelet level, and one other level that I can neither pronounce, nor attempt to spell.
When undergoing a high powered chemo treatment, almost everyone needs a blood transfusion 0or 2, or 3) at some point. Yesterday my levels were low enough that I needed to get two bags of blood infused. The process is simple, they hang the bags hook them to your port and turn the machine on. It's what happens before that is awesome. They give you "pre-meds" that help your body take the transfusion. The first pre-med is tylenol, harmless we've all had it. The second pre-med is Benadryl. I'm sure most of us have had Benadryl in our time, its a very common over the counter drug that can cause drowsiness. BUT have you ever had liquid Benadryl injected into your IV line?
I didn't think so. So the liquid Benadryl immediately makes you drowsy, not go to sleep drowsy, but the "I'm at WoodStock kind of drowsy. Combine the liquid Benadryl with the cocktail of pills I'm already on (and had taken only 20 minutes earlier and you can see my predicament. Each bag of blood takes 2 hours to transfuse so I had a 4 hour trip I got to take in my bed to worlds and galaxies I had never visited before. It was a magical fun time of sunshine unicorns and rainbows!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilsK7hyEuFI&sns=em
Friday, March 30, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Keeping the Humor up through side effects
Since I finished the 5 straight days of chemo last week they have had to keep me locked up here to monitor my blood counts. For a short refresher, the white blood cells affect your immune system so sending me home is not an option because of the risk of infection.
Regardless of that, with the treatment I am on the receiving end of the doctors said I am going to get an infection or two no matter what. So over the weekend the side effects finally hit. The first was the inside of my mouth feels like it's been rubbed completely raw and my lips have more cracks than all of Harlem. (bazinga) I have no problem with eating soft foods until this clears up but the biggest inconvenience is that it hurts when I talk too much. As many of you know, I LOVE the sound of my own voice. In fact the only thing I like more than the sound of my voice, is other people hearing the sound of my voice. My melodious tone is music to peoples ears and they are unfortunately being deprived of this delight at the moment.
When I mentioned that to my dear sweet mother today her response was "They are all probably thanking God that you have trouble talking, since you can never shut up".
Seemed a little harsh I thought, so I took a poll. I asked around and word was spread and the following were the results:
Pro-Fred Talking: 70%
Anti-Fred Talking: 10%
Who the hell is Fred: 20%
Clearly I need to get over this infection so I can entertain the 70% and at the same time raise my profile so that I have 100% name recognition. I did have an idea of walking down to the family lounge in just my boxers (sans pants) so that the ladies could get a cheap thrill and the ones who didn't know me would ask, "who is that"? Then they would all know my name is the Fred.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Regardless of that, with the treatment I am on the receiving end of the doctors said I am going to get an infection or two no matter what. So over the weekend the side effects finally hit. The first was the inside of my mouth feels like it's been rubbed completely raw and my lips have more cracks than all of Harlem. (bazinga) I have no problem with eating soft foods until this clears up but the biggest inconvenience is that it hurts when I talk too much. As many of you know, I LOVE the sound of my own voice. In fact the only thing I like more than the sound of my voice, is other people hearing the sound of my voice. My melodious tone is music to peoples ears and they are unfortunately being deprived of this delight at the moment.
When I mentioned that to my dear sweet mother today her response was "They are all probably thanking God that you have trouble talking, since you can never shut up".
Seemed a little harsh I thought, so I took a poll. I asked around and word was spread and the following were the results:
Pro-Fred Talking: 70%
Anti-Fred Talking: 10%
Who the hell is Fred: 20%
Clearly I need to get over this infection so I can entertain the 70% and at the same time raise my profile so that I have 100% name recognition. I did have an idea of walking down to the family lounge in just my boxers (sans pants) so that the ladies could get a cheap thrill and the ones who didn't know me would ask, "who is that"? Then they would all know my name is the Fred.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Are you jerking off? (questions people actually don't ask)
The following events took place Wednesday the 21st of March 2012.
So, yesterday morning the folks who work here came in later than normal so I was able to sleep in a tad. Saw the doctor around 9:30 and a few minutes later the housekeeper knocked and wanted to clean so I obliged. Having just woken up I was still in bed trying to orient myself and fully wake up while she mopped the floor. The door is wide open and I notice two of the nurses are about to walk in for the morning assessment. Which is routine. However, what happened next was farrrr from routine.
I hear one of them say, "hey, are you jerking off in here?" I spit the water I was drinking out all over the place and start coughing as they stroll in. The first nurse starts making conversation, and I immediately stop her.
"What did you say?" I asked. She gives me a puzzled expression. I tell her "did you just ask if I was jerking off before you came in the room?" the housekeeper, who has been mopping and cleaning the ENTIRE TIME drops her mop and starts laughing her ass off. Quickly followed by both nurses erupting into side splitting laugh
"No Fred, I asked her if she was MOPPING in here". That's when it hits me, all the pills and chemo drugs have caused me to lose my fucking mind. So everyone is laughing their asses off and I'm asking questions. "what kind of degenerate jerks off in a hospital?" "who would do that!?" Quickly finding out from them that in fact, all kinds of degenerates jerk off in hospital rooms.
Which makes me 100% certain that I never want to see this room in a black light. Of course when the shift change occurs they tell the night nurse assigned to me (my partner in crime you read about in an earlier update) and since she and I get along so well, the rest of the night was a breeze. I was eating dinner and she comes in with pills and first thing she says? "you eating or jerking off?" it was a question she asked every time she showed up.
The moral of this story is if you THINK someone asked you if you were banishing white Russians from your Kremlin, they actually weren't and you should pretend you didn't hear a fucking thing.
For the record if you jerk off in the hospital you are in fact a degenerate and they ought to be allowed to sterilize you immediately.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
So, yesterday morning the folks who work here came in later than normal so I was able to sleep in a tad. Saw the doctor around 9:30 and a few minutes later the housekeeper knocked and wanted to clean so I obliged. Having just woken up I was still in bed trying to orient myself and fully wake up while she mopped the floor. The door is wide open and I notice two of the nurses are about to walk in for the morning assessment. Which is routine. However, what happened next was farrrr from routine.
I hear one of them say, "hey, are you jerking off in here?" I spit the water I was drinking out all over the place and start coughing as they stroll in. The first nurse starts making conversation, and I immediately stop her.
"What did you say?" I asked. She gives me a puzzled expression. I tell her "did you just ask if I was jerking off before you came in the room?" the housekeeper, who has been mopping and cleaning the ENTIRE TIME drops her mop and starts laughing her ass off. Quickly followed by both nurses erupting into side splitting laugh
"No Fred, I asked her if she was MOPPING in here". That's when it hits me, all the pills and chemo drugs have caused me to lose my fucking mind. So everyone is laughing their asses off and I'm asking questions. "what kind of degenerate jerks off in a hospital?" "who would do that!?" Quickly finding out from them that in fact, all kinds of degenerates jerk off in hospital rooms.
Which makes me 100% certain that I never want to see this room in a black light. Of course when the shift change occurs they tell the night nurse assigned to me (my partner in crime you read about in an earlier update) and since she and I get along so well, the rest of the night was a breeze. I was eating dinner and she comes in with pills and first thing she says? "you eating or jerking off?" it was a question she asked every time she showed up.
The moral of this story is if you THINK someone asked you if you were banishing white Russians from your Kremlin, they actually weren't and you should pretend you didn't hear a fucking thing.
For the record if you jerk off in the hospital you are in fact a degenerate and they ought to be allowed to sterilize you immediately.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Finishing the first five. (staying sane while chemo'd and confined)
Coming to you LIVE from the Center for Advanced Medicine at Barnes Jewish Hospital in the greatest city ever St. Louis, Missouri.
Last night I finished the first 5 days of treatment in the soon to be filmed "Fred vs Lymphoma 3" (catchy tag line pending). This first five has not been too bad at all from a physical standpoint. I'm still eating well, looking dapper and swag as usual. I get two days off for continued observation and blood counts. I'd go into detail, but I don't even know what the hell it is they monitor for.
The plan then is another 5 on then 2 off, and rinse and repeat one more time. So that puts the hospital stay at 3 weeks total with a projected release day of Easter. I would never be brazen enough to suggest a fake boulder to be put in front of my door if I am released on Easter. But if someone wanted to help pull off that practical joke, I would of course engage in aforementioned shenanigans. (I make all types of jokes, nothing is off limits)
The key to maintaining your sanity in a situation like this is to have fun with your environment. How do you have fun with your environment at a hospital? I'm so glad you asked! The most obvious way is to make friends with the nurses. Don't be an ass of a patient. Lots of people are much worse off than me or you. And if your like me, you make friends with ALL the nurses not just the single hot ones. The other nurses then act as your surrogate without you having to do anything.
Observe:
Today during the day I gave everyone free tickets to the "Gun Show". The talk was all the rage and permeated from the day shift to the night shift. So inevitably one of the young medical professionals came down and asked me about it. Word quickly spread to the rest of the staff and my profile of "World's most upbeat Cancer patient" was officially set in stone. (small caveat, being the youngest patient on the floor by 20 years has given me a built in advantage.)
My cohort from the other night came in and hung out to help me scheme and plan to eventually get a date with one of her coworkers. While that might sound strange, look at it this way: everyone here thinks I'm hilarious and really sweet. ( I am in fact hilarious, and I love sweets. So 50% isn't bad) So tomorrow I'm going to dress in normal clothes instead of standard gym apparel since I will be free of the machines. And free from the machines I can wander about as I please. So I will get pictures of me overflowing with swag around the hospital. I'll also be performing my favorite activity (and one that makes the ladies swoon) by going down and entertaining kids and their families in the Children's Hospital here. There is nothing, and I mean nothing that is more fun than getting kids and their families to laugh here. So hopefully this afternoon or evening I'll have another post up with me checking swag levels all over this place and maybe some photos with recently entertained families.
The only sure thing is that tomorrow, I will wear sleeves. I promise.
Again anytime someone wants to visit there are only two rules: hit me up first so I can let you know if it's a good time, and number two:
pants are optional.
Last night I finished the first 5 days of treatment in the soon to be filmed "Fred vs Lymphoma 3" (catchy tag line pending). This first five has not been too bad at all from a physical standpoint. I'm still eating well, looking dapper and swag as usual. I get two days off for continued observation and blood counts. I'd go into detail, but I don't even know what the hell it is they monitor for.
The plan then is another 5 on then 2 off, and rinse and repeat one more time. So that puts the hospital stay at 3 weeks total with a projected release day of Easter. I would never be brazen enough to suggest a fake boulder to be put in front of my door if I am released on Easter. But if someone wanted to help pull off that practical joke, I would of course engage in aforementioned shenanigans. (I make all types of jokes, nothing is off limits)
The key to maintaining your sanity in a situation like this is to have fun with your environment. How do you have fun with your environment at a hospital? I'm so glad you asked! The most obvious way is to make friends with the nurses. Don't be an ass of a patient. Lots of people are much worse off than me or you. And if your like me, you make friends with ALL the nurses not just the single hot ones. The other nurses then act as your surrogate without you having to do anything.
Observe:
Today during the day I gave everyone free tickets to the "Gun Show". The talk was all the rage and permeated from the day shift to the night shift. So inevitably one of the young medical professionals came down and asked me about it. Word quickly spread to the rest of the staff and my profile of "World's most upbeat Cancer patient" was officially set in stone. (small caveat, being the youngest patient on the floor by 20 years has given me a built in advantage.)
My cohort from the other night came in and hung out to help me scheme and plan to eventually get a date with one of her coworkers. While that might sound strange, look at it this way: everyone here thinks I'm hilarious and really sweet. ( I am in fact hilarious, and I love sweets. So 50% isn't bad) So tomorrow I'm going to dress in normal clothes instead of standard gym apparel since I will be free of the machines. And free from the machines I can wander about as I please. So I will get pictures of me overflowing with swag around the hospital. I'll also be performing my favorite activity (and one that makes the ladies swoon) by going down and entertaining kids and their families in the Children's Hospital here. There is nothing, and I mean nothing that is more fun than getting kids and their families to laugh here. So hopefully this afternoon or evening I'll have another post up with me checking swag levels all over this place and maybe some photos with recently entertained families.
The only sure thing is that tomorrow, I will wear sleeves. I promise.
Again anytime someone wants to visit there are only two rules: hit me up first so I can let you know if it's a good time, and number two:
pants are optional.
Location:Parkview Pl,St Louis,United States
Saturday, March 17, 2012
The things we see (that make us say Holy Shit!)
I'm sure that any hospital in North America is filled with things and people that make us drop our jaw. One of these is a certain item the patient in the room next to me has outside their room.
So that's a pretty standard sight, a wheelchair in the hospital on a cancer treatment floor. Fairly routine actually, lots of people have used them myself included. But it is upon further examination that me and my crack team of researchers realized something was amiss.
As we see in exhibit #2 both Curt and Clark have sat in said wheelchair together. Almost like they are on the front porch swing of Forrest Gump's moms house waiting on a nice glass of lemonade. As we get farther along, you will notice these normally stoic business-like gentleman can barely contain their laughter.
We notice my colleagues growing bigger smiles, as I had to rapidly take their picture because both were in severe danger of urinating themselves and soiling the wheelchair and themselves. I'm not sure what we are to take away from this, but maybe it should be profound? Although I'm thinking it's more of a standard life lesson: if you weigh enough to need a double wide wheelchair, do not be surprised when you get cancer and/or diabetes. Start losing weight now, before the doctors lose the weight for you by chopping off your feet!
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
So that's a pretty standard sight, a wheelchair in the hospital on a cancer treatment floor. Fairly routine actually, lots of people have used them myself included. But it is upon further examination that me and my crack team of researchers realized something was amiss.
As we see in exhibit #2 both Curt and Clark have sat in said wheelchair together. Almost like they are on the front porch swing of Forrest Gump's moms house waiting on a nice glass of lemonade. As we get farther along, you will notice these normally stoic business-like gentleman can barely contain their laughter.
We notice my colleagues growing bigger smiles, as I had to rapidly take their picture because both were in severe danger of urinating themselves and soiling the wheelchair and themselves. I'm not sure what we are to take away from this, but maybe it should be profound? Although I'm thinking it's more of a standard life lesson: if you weigh enough to need a double wide wheelchair, do not be surprised when you get cancer and/or diabetes. Start losing weight now, before the doctors lose the weight for you by chopping off your feet!
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, March 16, 2012
A three hour (week) tour
The verdict is in, and I'm going to be going back to a heavy Chemo regiment. Started last night around midnight, its a combo of 2 different drugs that only medical professionals can pronounce. So with the new treatment jacking up my blood counts they want to keep me for 3 weeks. I am now referring to myself as the "Skipper" and the 7900 wing is my S.S. Minnow. If the Minnow was filled with geriatrics that eat pudding at 4:30 and then go to bed. Someone has to tell these geezers, the cafeteria does NOT have an early bird special!
But I digress, met with my doctor this morning and she explained the treatment and why I have to be here so long. She did say that I might get moved to the 5th floor when a room opens up. Which would be nice, as they have flat screens in each room and right now my TV is a 13" zenith, circa 1985.
Now to the real news if the past 12 hours. Last night I attempted to institute a new plan, entitled:
The (attempted) Seduction of the Night Nurses.
Two awesome nurses I've had at night were both on duty last night. One blonde, one brunette, I had to carefully decide how I was going to approach the logistics of this dream/nightmare. As I found out one of them is actually married my battle plan was formulated. The married nurse was the obe who was scheduled for my room. So I took advantage of that by using my immense charm and humor to entertain, knowing full well that women love to gossip. (a generalization I know, but face it ladies you love to gossip. It's been proven in a scientific journal I never read)
So on a not busy evening my nurse spent a lot of time in here talking and telling plenty of jokes. Built in advantage was of course that I am the youngest patient on the floor by 20 years. So I of course am the only one awake after Matlock gets over at 9. So with a little embellishment and dramatic flair I talked up my life and accomplishments. Maybe I didn't save as many orphans from a fire as I claimed, but who among us doesn't stretch the truth when dealing with the outside sex? Especially when it was a difficult mission of impressing one girl, in order to impress another. Things went well I believe as my nurse did come in later and tell me the other young lady was indeed available. She however did not come in to chat, because of course there are laws/oaths that discourage said contact. But those go out the window when the patient is released. So the groundwork has been laid, my "preemptive strike" appears to have cleared some area so I can get headway onto the mainland. The key now is to keep it chill, while also showing my swag. I'm accomplishing that task by watching badketball, but also wearing one of my sleeveless football shirts. So even though I'm whiter than Caspers ghost, the gun show is in full effect. The NRA has nothing on me. (NRA= National Rifle association, not Nation of Retarded Assholes (Iran)). So the surge will continue, I do unfortunately lose my ally as she is off for the next 3-4 days, but it could be a blessing in disguise. Whoever takes over tonight could be on board with the plan, or I could be assigned to the primary target which would lead to tons of small talk and innocent chit chat. And of course that lets people get to know each other better since beauty is only skin deep and all that other self esteem crap people use when they try to set you up with someone ugly, man or woman. Worst thing you can hear before a set-up "he/she has a GREAT personality" remember kids the harder they stress the personality the more likely your potential dates resembles Quasimodo. (if you don't know who that is, you should have paid attention in fucking class)
I'm out for now, but I have an idea of a photo essay here on the blog tonight. There are things here that must be seen to be believed and I will provide your eyes!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
An Inconvenient Boner
Not much progression today on the Prognosis/Treatment front. I did however have a PET Scan this afternoon. A fairly routine and simple type of scan that shows doctors where the infection or cancer or whatever your being scanned fire is located at. I personally like that its a PET scan, as cats have had a monopoly on the scanning business for as long as I can remember.* So kudos to the other household pets for getting in the imaging business!
Even though it is a fairly routine and typical exam, I try not to do anything by the book. Between the 15-20 minute mark as I was sliding in and out of the machine I suddenly felt my crotch heating up. My immediate reaction in my head was "please dear lord, don't tell me I just peed on myself". Feeling no wetness I relaxed and realized it was the glucose injection and the machines rays warming me up. About 90 seconds later the scan was done and the nurse came in to help me up out of machine. I stood and did a full stretch backwards and at nearly there same time the nurse and I realized I was sporting a giant (by my standards) erection. She said "looks like YOU enjoyed the scan", and since she said it fairly condescendingly I did not apologize. I did however inform her what room I was in and if she knew any techniques to help sheer was more than welcome to stop by and help.
Needles to say, I'm no longer allowed in that area of the hospital.
Swag check: Still High
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The return of the return of the Lymphoma
A brief intro. My name is Fred Fierce and I was/am a cancer survivor. I always get confused about who is considered a survivor or not. Am I a survivor because I'm still alive even if I have cancer still? What about people who get cured but relapse, do they get survivor status revoked by the ACS? Who knows, more importantly, who gives a shit!
The purpose of this new blog is to tell stories of the last two years, and more importantly tell stories of what is coming next. I will also do my best to make this the funniest blog about cancer you have ever read. I'm gonna make you laugh till you cry. Hell one of my stories may make someone cry outright. Which is OK, if your a lady. If your a man crying, grow a set and at least keep it out of public for gods sake. There might be women around wondering who there pussy crying is, good luck getting laid after that!
Anyway, I decided to start this now because of the most recent development. In October 2010 I underwent an allogenic stem cell transplant (I'll explain that process in a later post). In July of 2011 my tumor was found to have come back, and it came back like Sam Jackson in pulp fiction "with great anger and furious vengeance". Got heavy radiation to shrink it, and then we scheduled a series of 3 infusions of donor cells. I had the last one on January 6 of 2012. This past week I was admitted with a wicked respiratory virus. They did a CT Scan and found two new lymphoma masses in brand new spots.. So my doctor came in (on a Saturday!! Did I mention she rules?) and we talked about how her and the brain trust were going to figure out a new treatment course. Which confirmed my suspicion that the transplant had indeed failed, and the last 2 years were now moot.
My immediate thought was actually in an English accent and went something like " my old nemesis lymphoma, we meet again after I have dispatched you twice. The third time will not be your charm". So the battle begins anew, Helms deep is safe but now all our hopes lie with two little.... Wait, thats Lord of the Rings, my English accent always puts me in that mode. My next post will be a recap of the first couple of days from two years ago. I rely a lot on reader feedback so people can let me know what they want to hear more of and I'll cater to the customer. Even though its free and you cheap bastards will never have to pay me anything. (unless you want to of course, only idiots turn dorm free money)
Reach me at the following
Email: fredfierce@yahoo.com
Twitter: @fredfierce
Or go outside in the St. Louis area and walk around yelling FRED!!! A bunch of times, maybe like Batman I'll hear you. Hey stranger things have happened. Something called a Snookie is famous in this country, odds on finding me by hollerin' are probably equal to her getting famous.
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