Ah, an experiment gone awry...it sounded so simple, so logical. My nutritionist -- yes, I have to work with a nutritionist five days a week -- still was not happy with the amount of protein I am ingesting. So, at her suggestion we went to the Mayo Store and bought a can of BeneProtein, a powdered whey product which one simply adds to food. Sounds simple and foolproof...
Humble Pie - Part 1
I cracked open the can, removed the convenient and simple measuring ladle, and following the simple directions, simply ladled a measure into my chunky chicken noodle soup.
Was it creamy?
Was it smooth?
Not on your life! Hundreds of tiny, powder-dry dumplings instantly formed among the vegetables, noodles, and occasional chicken chunks, and refused to dissolve! It tasted awful and looked like soap scum in my bowl. I ate it. I did not enjoy it, but I ate it.
Of course, the entire experiment played out while other residents were making their lunches, so my daily eating record will include a healthy serving of humble pie.
Things Start Looking Up
Today was the first day since Sunday that we did not have to make a second trip to the hospital for IV medications or platelets. What a pleasure!
Humble Pie - Part 2
The free afternoon passed in typical fashion: I tried to rest and Marian did laundry. All was right with the world. At least, until supper time. We decided on a sparse meal--opening a can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew--it was going to be a short trip back in time to those quiet nights around a campfire with my parents and siblings. If Dad caught nothing while out fishing, we would open a couple of cans of beef stew and heat it in a cast iron pot over over the fire. Note: Marian prepared the stew as a favor to me -- she is not the biggest fan of DM beef stew (no tomatoes, I guess).
All afternoon, I had been wrestling with the queasiness caused by the protein supplement in my soup. I thought I had it under control. First bite of stew...delicious...but what is that odd rumbling from my tummy? Second, bit of stew...still delicious...but I immediately recognized what was coming and barely made it to the restroom. The scene was epic in proportion and rated X for violence and (subvocalized) bad language.
So supper ended with Marian eating stew she did not want and me drinking a bottle of EnsurePlus. All that was missing were the candles and the wine...
The Great Wait
Other than this episode and the Amazing Ongoing Unlimited Supply of Fatigue (AOUSFat), I was doing somewhat better today. A Fentanyl Patch has been taking the edge off my throat pain, allowing for better sleep and fewer tears at the table. I am also relying on the side effects of the patch as my only defense for The Tragedy in the Water Closet.
A nurse told me today that soon, we will all be looking for signs that the stem cells have engrafted. The proof is when my numbers start to rise on their own. It is when this happens that we look for signs of Graft Vs Host Disease and the next phase of the great adventure begins.
Marian is handling it all with aplomb, grace, and the patience of a saint. OK, usually...she is human after all. She has to help me button and unbutton shirts, and write most handwritten notes. My finger tips have become hypersensitive and painful, and my hand and body tremors have become pronounced and nearly constant. It’s a side effect of cyclosporin, I’ve been given to understand, and should decrease with time.
Four more cards came in today’s post and brought chuckles and cheer to a quiet afternoon for me and a bright spot after three loads of laundry for Marian. Thanks to all who write, send cards, and e-mail messages filled with support and/or funny stories and pictures.
I lived such an insular life, with few friends throughout my school years and even fewer during my college days (as a commuter student), I could hardly conceive of having even a small circle of friends. I do believe that I was blind until the day my eyes began to bleed back in May. From that day onward I’ve heard from old friends, new friends, borrowed friends, and even a few blue friends -- although when I heard last they were cheering up a bit.
I hope and pray that each and every one of you does not wait until you face a serious challenge to find those friends and connect. God and I...we talk every day...well, actually I do a whole lotta talking and a whole lotta asking. Did He send angelic messengers? Not yet. Did He whisper in my ear late at night? Maybe...was that You Lord? Mostly, He sent me messages through all of you. And He gives me more days to explore, whether through pleasure, pain, or patience, why I am here and why I should continue to fight.
I hope these peeks into my journal are entertaining and informative for you. Writing the updates make me feel more alive than before and (obviously) have been effective at keeping my head from imploding.
God bless and thank you all,
Mick