The only thing you can predict about cancer is that it is unpredictable...or rather the treatment of it and its impact on the poor patient is unpredictable.  Ok, that's not completely accurate.  With every treatment we predict the aftermath on Roger will be bad, and we think we anticipate or can predict the level of bad.  I'm here to tell you, NOPE, no way to predict how bad bad is.  We've gotten better at predicting when the bad days will hit and are getting better at predicting how long the bad days will be.  But holymoly we suck at anticipating how bad things will get. 

Roger's decent to hell was immediate from the moment he sat in the chair to start receiving infusion.  He didn't sleep at all last night - couldn't get comfortable. All the pain and discomfort was amped up.  Usually if I give him a back rub or neck rub or foot rub it will help mitigate the rawness and provide some level of relief.  Not this time.   Despite having extra narcotics on board as prescribed by Roger's pain mgmt doctor, nothing has helped.   Roger had a new side effect present today which is pretty darn scary.  As we were getting ready this morning, he came upstairs to change clothes.  I was working in our office.  He came in and said, "Feel my chest/heart."  I reached up and placed my hand on his chest to feel his heart beating rapidly as though he had just run a sprint.  When we researched this protocol of chemo, we read one of the side effects could be rapid heart rate.  Scary.  So he went into the bedroom and sat down.  I got up and chased down the rest of his clothes.  Eventually, Roger's heart rate slowed back down. 

Today we went back to the infusion center to have Roger's chemo pump removed.  The hematology/oncology center is two story -with the infusion area on the second floor. All things considered, its a very pretty building.  Every time we go there, since we first started this adventure over two years ago, Roger has always insisted we take the stairs up to the infusion area - no matter how badly he felt - he has always insisted on taking the stairs.  Today, he stopped at the elevator and pushed the button.  With tears in his eyes, he simply said "I just cant". We waited and waited and waited and waited.  No elevator.  With a sigh, he turned and started slowly up the stairs.  As we got about half way up, we heard the "ding" of the elevator bell.  Freakin' elevator showed up after we left!  Go figure.

Once we got back home today and Roger sank back into the sofa, he quietly declared "We need to reduce the dosage of the noxious part of the chemo.  This is the worst I have felt since we've started....I can't feel like this again".  So, we'll revisit the discussion once Roger starts feeling better again.  As I mentioned in the last post, Roger's doctor said we could consider altering the treatment because the cancer had responded to favorably to the treatment thus far.  No decisions today when the bad is as bad as it is.

OK, not related to the cancer and treatment:  We have the strangest thing going on in the house lately.  As the weather turned cold we have been inundated by lady bugs.  Every evening we catch 4-5 lady bugs and release them outside.  Well... we release those that don't end up in the fish tank.  No exaggeration...EVERY evening... ladybugs all over the family room area.  Its really so incredibly odd.  This has happened for the last couple years. 

The weekend will be quiet.  My plans are to rake the remaining leaves which finally fell, put up the remaining inside Xmas decorations and maybe, just maybe got get a Christmas tree from one of the local tree stands. 

More later~ a