Quick Post

I'm going to try to write a blog post from start to finish in about an hour.  Perhaps that way it won't become out of date before I publish it.  This is as close to live blogging as I get.

Today is Sunday, and it's a grey, cold day in New England.  I had my second infusion of cabazitaxel six days ago on Monday, and all else being equal (it never is) this is usually when I expect to start feeling better.  Better is a relative term.  I spent about an hour in the bathroom last night as the lower portion of my GI tract tried to decided if it had diarrhea or not.  The experience was enhanced by just enough nausea that I asked my wife to get me a bucket.  Fun times!  Living each moment to the fullest!

Back to the grey, cold today, and what isn't equal.  I've been cutting back on a couple medications like Bupropion, which is an antidepressant that normally lifts my mood and gives me some energy in the short, dark days of winter.  Unfortunately when I try to go up to two doses a day this year it just makes me anxious.  I'm also tapering off Prednisone since I no longer need it.  Prednisone withdrawal symptoms include aches, pains, nausea, and fatigue, in other words stopping it now is precisely what you'd do if you wanted to accentuate the side effects of chemotherapy.

I woke up this morning and many of my bones hurt.  My guess is this is a combination of cancer and Neulasta.  Neulasta is a drug that boosts immune cell production, and is thought to cause bone marrow to swell slightly as a side effect.  When that marrow is in a cancer damaged bone, "ouch" is a good word to use.

I disregard most of this pain because it came on all at once a couple days after chemo, which in my mind usually means it's a side effect.  However, there is one specific rib that is particularly painful, and has a lump I can feel under my skin, and it can be very painful to touch.  I assume this is also the same rib that was noted as having progression in my last CT scan.  It takes super-human skill not to freak out when you can physically feel a tumor on your bone when you're laying in bed, and see the bump in your skin when the sunlight coming in at a low winter angle hits it just right.  I'm not super human, I do freak out.

But there's every reason to believe that bit of cancer is being attacked by the chemo.  I've certainly had treatments before which has made pain worse, but a subsequent scan shows improvement.  If it doesn't respond to chemo, it might be a good target for a few zaps of radiation.

So back to this morning.  Pain, fatigue, lack of motivation.  I'm just plain old tired of laying on the couch or in bed all day, watching TV and playing games on my tablet.  I know what's going to happen next.  I'm going to cry, and I'm going to get all worked up about all the things I can't do anymore, and then a week or so from now I'll be doing them, but perhaps a bit slower due to anemia.

There was no other choice.  I forced myself out and into the car and took a short road trip to Erving state forest.  It's just a random destination I've never been to about an hour's drive away from home, and at this time of year there shouldn't be many people around.  I was in mild pain and somewhat anxious, but if I took anything for those symptoms it might affect my driving.  Sober and uncomfortable it is.

My only regret on this trip was that when I stopped for gas, it wasn't at an Irving brand gas station.  The wordplay of stopping at Irving on the way to Erving would have made me smile.  Oh, and I also wish I brought a water bottle along and a few ginger chews for transient nausea.

Having put "Erving State Forest" into Google Maps, I simply followed the directions to my destination.  In this case it was a parking lot next to Laurel Lake.  There's a lot of mountain laurels in the surrounding woods, and apparently they named the lake as quickly as I'm writing this post.

Here's a selfie of me in the parking lot.  If you zoom in you might be able to make out the "Erving State Forest" sign behind the car.  You'll also notice that I have a very full head of hair, as it's showing no sign of even thinning on this chemotherapy.  That is somewhat unfortunate as I'll have to figure out what to do to control it as it gets longer and more unruly.  Having one's hair fall out does save a lot of angst over how to style the stupid stuff.  I'm also quite scruffy, because shaving requires just a bit more effort and enthusiasm than I've been able to muster for the last several days.  Remember, I didn't take this trip for the joy of the open road, it was to avoid a meltdown if I didn't go.  It's mostly stick and no carrot.

It was a very short walk to the beach on the lake.  I don't know why everybody is complaining about people who don't social distance on the beach, I had the whole place to myself.  Of course, this isn't exactly Florida, and it was cloudy and 40 degrees.  Even I couldn't get a sunburn on a day like this.

I tried walking along a path at the edge of the beach that went along the shore, only it wasn't very much of a path.  There wasn't much brush so it was pretty easy to travel through the woods, and there were picnic tables and grills scattered about in the woods.  I wonder how they got there with no trail or access roads.  Do people brute force these things and carry them by hand in this day and age?  Once again, nobody around.

Shortly afterwards I went from the woods back to the paved road along the lake, which was much easier walking except for the hills (it is New England, nothing is ever flat).  Not too far from the beach there were several seasonal cabins, and I could see a number of them on the other side of the lake.  I came across a boat ramp further down, and was surprised to see they allow water skiing.  It's a tiny lake, at water skiing speeds you'd be across it in about a minute.

And so, these are the lengths I need to go to in order to keep my spirits up, with cancer, during a pandemic, when I'm afraid to start a conversation with certain people for fear of politics coming up.  Election week was very stressful for me, and it continues to be stressful if I watch the news too much.  It's no longer about which policies are best for the country.  It's about whether you believe the Democrats committed fraud by adding illegal votes to the election, or that the Republicans committed fraud by claiming there are a large number of "illegal ballots" that don't actually exist.  Neither answer points to us living in a well functioning democracy, and that's just depressing.

At the risk of ending on a happy note, I'm still here on the planet and partaking in the game of life, and my urinary function is continuing to improve.  I pass clear yellow urine without pain, don't leak when it's not time to go, and now have enough bladder capacity and lack of urgency to sleep through the night without having to get up to pee.  Things have improved noticeably since starting chemo, and perhaps that's a sign that chemo is working.

Fingers crossed that this chemo is working.  As I got back to the parking lot I found a hiking trail that claimed to have views of Mt. Monadnock, and didn't have the energy or time to explore it.  I must return to this place for more exploration, and I'm far from done poking around the less populated areas of New England.