A weekend full of roller coaster rides

So I mentioned yesterday in the brief post that we had a rough weekend. I think we both thought the cancer drugs (the nasty cell-killing drugs) would start to taper off...that the horrible feeling would wear off even if just a little tiny bit. Saturday morning we were encouraged when Roger announced that he felt a little better. That was first thing in the morning. As the day wore on, so faded his energy and that tiny little bit of feeling good. Come Sunday, he felt worse than ever before. Roger's nurse wrote up orders for him to be able to go to the hospital outpatient oncology floor for fluids if he needed it. He needed it. So we spent a quiet afternoon at the hospital. He slept, I worked on the laptop and watched bits and pieces of the colts game. The quiet minutes of the day slowly ticked by. He felt better after receiving the fluids.

Monday proved to be a good day. Roger was responsive and chatty - not only to those friends, family who called or the heathcare personnel but even to me. When he's at home or in the car with me, its pretty quiet...and that's ok. The beauty of being with someone you love who knows you and who you know is that you don't have to say anything. You can just be. Just breathe.

The only conversation that I have continued to push is "how/what are you feeling" as its the only way for me to truly be able to watch for signs that Roger may not be doing well. I try to balance asking those questions with NOT being TOO obnoxious (certain things are in your DNA that you simply can't help). Its a task...I'm task oriented. Problem...solution...fix it. Sounds simple but a little more difficult when there is the whole human element in there.

The new "normal" includes lots of chemicals and drugs, an altered diet rich in proteins and fluids (and fastfood, ugh - Roger's choice not mine), an altered approach to communication or lack thereof. Its a new normal and that's the only way to look at it.

Roger has radiation this week - every day. It will slowly build up in its affect on his esophagus. Right now, he says he doesn't really feel anything from the radiation per se. His throat is sore and the inside of his mouth is starting the "change" - both apparently from the chemo drugs. He has a magic potion...literally called Mary's Magic Potion...that he's supposed to start gargling and swallowing to reduce the sore throat and sores in the mouth. You gotta love something called a magic potion. Which reminds me of a special moment we had on Monday when we were at the oncology center meeting with Roger's oncologist and then Roger getting his fluids. He had just gotten into the chair for the fluids. His favorite nurse was buzzing around getting everything ready. In another chair, at the back of the room was an older gal and what appeared to be her daughter. The older woman was getting the chemo. We had seen them and chatted with them in one of the waiting rooms. As we got settled, you could see this older woman motion Mariska (Roger's nurse) over to her. She gave Mariska a MAGIC WAND (think lights and whirling and fairy music a la Disney Land) and told her to go over to Roger and wave it over him and wish him well wishes. Mariska did exactly that. Sure a little silly. But more than that, a tender, sweet sweet intention from one person fighting the fight to another. No barriers to communication - and no words....just a sweet, simple sincere thought from one stranger to another.

It was such a sweet, silly moment that you had to smile and laugh. ~a