Want to Really Appreciate Something? Lose It!
I’m almost longing for the good ol’ days of chemo.
Well, maybe not.
For sure, I’m longing for the good ol’ days of high energy and reasonably good health. It wasn’t so long ago I was running 5 circuits of stairs in my building, 22 floors up and down. These days, screw the stairs… the simple act of carrying on a conversation totally winds me.
As of the end of October, my chemo treatments were suspended due to a string of conditions and infections that are now making chemo seem like a desirable option. There’s the non-stop coughing for which the doctors kept throwing antibiotics, puffers and nasal sprays to slow down the post nasal drip.
Still, every single day I have at least one unstoppable coughing bout that has me choking over the sink.
Then there’s the burning, frequent urge to urinate. I complained to the doctors about a month ago and again they wrote it off as an infection, throwing even more antibiotics into my already weary, maxed-out system.
Not only did the burning, frequent urge to urinate continue, it escalated to blood in the urine… lots of blood! Some nights there’s so much blood, I’d swear I am menstruating.
Getting to the Bottom of All This… Literally
Now I was already set up for a lung biopsy next Wednesday, December 2. My last CT scan showed little black dots on my lungs. The biopsy procedure will include another scan while they insert a long needle into my lungs to scrape the black dots for further examination.
Yesterday, I went to the doctor for a follow-up on a urine specimen I left last week. Thankfully, the doctor was taking my case a LOT more seriously this time. He didn’t write me any scrip for more antibiotics.
Nope, this time he got right down to the bottom of things… literally. Guys who have had a prostrate examination know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. For those of you who are unenlightened, I was asked to undress from the bottom down. I was then told to lie down on the table facing the wall, bringing my knees up to my chest.
From behind I heard the doctor snapping on a fresh pair of latex gloves. He assured me that he would be quick. It didn’t help that the guy had fingers the size of Mama Leone’s Italian Sausages. Oh My GOD, did that EVER HURT!
Oh, he was quick alright. Still I pounded the wall, arched my back and let out a string of loud profanities that would make a drunken sailor blush.
As a consolation, the doc said my prostrate appeared normal. I don’t think he dared say anything else after seeing me go ballistic on that little examination table!
He asked me to dress. Then he gave me a bottle to collect yet another urine sample. He instructed me to rejoin him in his office when I was finished.
That Was Nothing! Here Comes the Ultimate in Poking and Probing!
Things were happening quickly now. When I returned to the doctor’s office, he already had a requisition for me to go to the lab to drop off the urine sample and take another blood test. I could see he had MANY MORE boxes checked off on the sheet this time. He was looking for EVERYTHING!
He also gave me a requisition for an ultrasound on my kidneys to see what, if anything, was going on there.
The biggest thing though was that he set me up with a urologist. This coming Monday, November 30 you may hear screaming all the way from Toronto to your front door. I will have a procedure called a cystoscopy. This is where they insert a small tube containing a camera and a water hose up the urethra – (um, that’s where you pee-pee, guys).
They will fill my bladder with water while the little camera is having a good look around. According to the person who called me, this entire operation takes about 10 minutes. And they only use a LOCAL anesthetic.
Are you KIDDING ME?!
Maggie’s dad had a similar procedure done and he said it was the most God-Awful painful thing that he has ever endured in his life. And this is a guy who sleeps on bare hardwood floors. Talk about tough.
Well it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that sticking a camera and a fire hose up your penis is going to hurt. “No shit, Sherlock!”
OK, Quit Yer Bitchin’ Russy
By next Friday, December 4 (my birthday, incidentally) I should know more about what the heck is going on in my body. Once we shine that light on the internal enemies, we can start taking steps to make things right.
Yes, it’s going to be a MOST INTRUSIVE week! But I’m just keeping my sites set on Friday as Maggie and the girls are already whipping up some big surprises for me.
As long as we don’t have to play ‘Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey’.
Aw man, Russ… just when I was feeling sorry for myself having a little sniff of a cold, and was looking for the bright side. Thanks for the reminder that I AM on the bright side. Or as one of Tony Robbins’ students said, “Every day above ground is a successful day.”
So best wishes for a happy birthday. With your family, you’ve got some wonderful people in your corner. Please accept all our best to you and yours from warm and smiling Thailand.
Russ, When I read your e-mail last night I was so happy. I had listened to the songs you wrote. I especially fell in love with “In My Mother”s Arms. Little Ambrosia sang that song so beautiful. Then watching the video that went along with it, well it was to say the least, very touching. Seeing your mom in the video, made me realize, my mom had to get to your website. I called and asked her if she wanted to see your site, and of course your Aunty Jackie, was happy that I could share this with her. For myself, I hope you are going to keep your,blog, updated as to your health. I am unable still to get on FB. It”s okay though, beacuse I haven”t felt this close to anyone, as I do to you. I actually live in Greenville SC. I keep it pretty private. So for today, my nasty cold means nothing.I too am on the bright side. Love your cousin in rainy, cold, but smiling South Carolina. lol. Lisa