she said that it seemed the largest lung tumor, the one pressing on my heart, had not grown at all since the radiation. stabilization is a primary goal in such cases. she recommended adding a mild oral old style chemo to the prescriptions, to kind of get to it from two angles; the possibility of the tumor shrinking, from either or both, would be watched for in the next four to six weeks.
the shoulder tumor has neither shrunk nor grown, but has dried up considerably.
she cut the dose of metoprolol to half...hoping to raise blood pressure a bit and prevent some of the dizziness I've been having. she prescribed a prescription strength nsaid, a stronger sort of aleve, to replace the ibuprofen I have been taking.
not a BNP (Big New Problem) but a NP is that the pleural effusion seems to have "loculated", meaning that there are some sizable pockets of fluid in the area between my lungs and my chest that are separated, and will not respond to the catheter that was put in. we're going to try to get a C-T scan Tuesday, which will give a more sophisticated picture of what is where, and then see Dr. Gore on Thursday to discuss what measures to take...separate draining, or some type of connecting tube...
but my not getting much drainage, and not getting much relief breathing, makes some sense now.
it is amazing to me that Dr.Gore can be so caring, and yet talk about possible medical outcomes none of us want to have happen so directly. I admire it.
she said it is too soon to tell if I will get stronger, strong enough to go through a new study, or not.
she said if I don't, then it's time to start talking hospice.
she said in addition, there is an ongoing danger that, with my pulse rate as high as it is and the pressure on my heart, that one of my coughing fits might be too much to recover from, and cause a fatal heart attack.
more and more guys are being wiped out on my dodge ball team, and more and more balls are being aimed right at me. I have some twisting and turning to do to avoid them all.
but yesterday was my worst day. most discomfort, least me-ness; I was thinking if today were like this, I'd check into the hospital again because this just ain't cutting it.
slept deep last night, though, and long for me. (after having an episode where I may have passed out sitting up in bed)
this morning, felt like getting up.
was at the hospital today from 11 to 5. everything was hard. but I did it. up writing now, and I don't feel too bad.
if I can engineer some more comfort out of the next few days...I'll be a happy guy. and it might even point to recovery.
I hope I can emulate Dr. Gore, and bring you my medical tale, best and worst case, directly and honestly. for tonight, I figure I'll write about Sondheim, Spiderman, and The Jaynetts another time.
(ever since Mark Bleisener pulled out The Jaynetts' album, Sally Go Round The Roses, at a music swapping session, I've been frankly jealous. I broke down and bought a copy from ebay, got it yesterday, listened to it last night. not even my stereo could remove the sonic mysteries from the World's Worst Recorded LP. it's less Vaseline on the lens than a jar of Vaseline. but the sonic spackle of "Sally Go Round The Roses" is the least of its mystery. the feel, the words, everything about it is VooDoo. they were from New Orleans (youngest, 17 years old), but they seemed to have seen things and to have secrets no one on the mainland could ever know. it remains a source of fascination to me)
It's not just the docs; I've always felt that you played because people need it. I also always saw you as someone who, ala Ray Davies, would take a bullet for one you love.
ReplyDeleteFor the record, you taught me how to make pickups.
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