Are you a dog lover?

My brother Kevin is most definitely a dog lover and perhaps there are some gnetics involved here because I have redisicovered that I, too, am a dog lover.
For me, and maybe my sister Stacey it goes back to Amigo, a Bedlington Terrier that we had prior to having Charley the Beagle, the only dog who perhaps had his own newspaper column,m "Charley's Tips For People Owners" which ran in the Anacortes ____________ (I can't remember the name of the newspaper in Anacortes, WA that my folks worked at...chemo brain, you know. And I have another chemo brain incidedent coming forthwith.
Anywho, Keving has given me several books to read to help me through the drudgery and tediousness of thei cancer recovery gig.
I know Kevin is a dog lover because one of he books he gave me was, "Your Cat Is Dead."
He gave me another book...and here comes the chemo brain...but I can't remember the title and I think I borrowed it out to someone cuz I can't find it, but it's got my name in it so I hope it comes back. It was/is a marvelous book except I couldn't bring myself to read the last few pages where the dog-protagonist passes away.
The last book, which prompts this blog entry is called, "The Art of Racing In The Rain', is a marvelous x 12 read, and again, for the same reason i am holding off reading the last few pages.
In both books that artesian well of tears which wells within me spewed forth what seemed like gallons of tears as I read up to where I stopped reading,knowing what the ending was going to be.
There is a part, before the crying part, that exemplifies, perhaps, my gig with cancer...

From

"The Art of Racing In The Rain"

~~Garth Stein

pg. 257

{A novel told from the canine perspective}

     "What is the real truth regarding the death of Ayrton Senna (a race car driver in the book who died during a car race), who was only thirty-four years old?    

     I know the truth, and I will tell you now:

     He was admired, loved, cheered, honored, respected. In life as well as death. A great man, he is. A great d man, he was. A great man, he will be.

     He died that day because his body had served its purpose. His soul had done what it came to do, learned what it came to learn, and then was free to leave. And I knew, as Denny (his "master") sped me toward the doctor who would fix me (he just got hit by a car), that if I had already accomplished what I was set out to accomplish here on earth, if I had already learned wha I was meant to learn, I would have left the curb one second later than I had, and I would have been killed instantly by that car.

     But I was not killed. Because I was not finished. I still had work to do."

The saga of the big bimp (re: Peter Sellers as Inspector Cluseau) and then...

This is a picture (thanks Gregg!),  of the bump on my head apppx. 45 minutes after I fell and before Gregg

transported me to the hospital.
That was I dunno how long ago...a month maybe?
Anywho I'm still Black and Blue, but that is improving...so maybe we should call the day after Thanksgiving Black and Blue Thursday?
The bump?
I went to the Facial Trauma doc. earlier this week and he tried to drain the bump, but it's now full of congealed blood...yuk... and short of making an incision and scraping out the "stuff"...yuk...which he can't do because that would be the equivalent of minor surgery which can''t happen because I can't have any kind of surgery because of low platelets and the risk of infection so I just have to wait for my body to take care of it and that'll probably take a few months!
So my "Quasimodo" look will be with me for a bit.

Just a brief note on why Thanksgiving Day and what I had/have to be thankful for...

Day before yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, marked 90 days since my transplant.
Wow, without that transplant I'd "be a goner".
But the transplant, although it certainly made a difference it didn't make the difference.
The Great Physician played the biggest role but it was the prayers and presence of the people that made the difference.
That is not a contradictory sentence at all...but you'd have to be me to truly understand it, I think.

To have the presence of people who made the sojourn to the University of Colorado Hospital sometimes several times a week, is what made the difference. Without them I know I would not have been able to survive the ordeal...and I do know that.
To those three of you who showed up soooooo often, I salute you and I thank you for your lives.
To those of you who made the trips from far away, i.e. my brother and sister, you have always been there for me when I've needed you, you'll never know how much I love you....it's true, you'll never know, just know that I do.
To those of you who came and stayed with me at Brent's Place (the transitional housing place that I stayed a for 3 weeks after leaving the hospital), I know it must have been boring but it was incredibly comforting for and to me.
To those of you who organized, participated in and got your vehicles cleaned at the car wash, bless your individual and collective hearts. For those of you who are members of, or are not (!) I am humbled by your benevolence, your prayers and your thoughts and those incredible Birthday Cards which Bonnie affixed to the wall in my hospital room.
To you guys stationed at RE/MAX Advanced who called me, came down to see me, sent me cards, the Car Wash, your benevolence, the "Welcome Home" Sales Meeting, it's you guys who help make and keep that place the magical place that it is.
To those of you who just heard of my "plight" somehow and just jumped on the prayer/thought/cart/phone call/e-mail Pete's bandwagon.
To those of you who followed this blog and made your comments which I so appreciated and made me cry and gave me hope.
And to anybody I've missed in the above clans, Thank you and know that you indeed have saved a life.
Again, I'm not taking anything away from the Big Guy, but I know that it was the presence of people, whether they were present or not that saw me through this.

There are no words...but Thank You and Bless you, each and every one of you.

Home Sweet Home?!?!?!?!?!?

Assuming everything goes right, a.k.a. labs, I'll be outa here and home by noon!
One wouldn't think that a bump on the head would land me in the hospital for durn near a week, would ya?
But it did, sorta.

Heckuva Mugshot, eh?

Check above the budding raccoon mask and you'll see some fuzz on top of the ol' noggin!

I still don't have it figured out how a fall could poke a hole in both my kidney and my spleen, but if'n anybody can accomplish that I can and did!
They'll heal themselves just like the broken bone above my left eye will, but the jury is still out as to whether or not I'll have to have the bone beneath my left eye "repaired"...I'll know that when the swelling and bruising goes down in a week or thereabouts.
I just found out it seems like there's some issue with my blood pressure that might keep me here!
If you'd been through what I've been through in the past 9 moinths, you'd have high blood pressure too!!!!!!!!

No body has come up with a definitive explanation for my "falling" but they seem to mention my blood pressure meds and dehydration working in combination that are culpable along with one of my chemo drugs.
So, it appears that I'm gonna get to play the "find a balance" between a high blood pressure med, proper hydration and the rest of my meds including the chemo drugs that get to accompany me for the next three years...

You know, this stayin' alive ain't as easy as it once was.
Wasn't there a song about "Stayin' Alive" back in the 80's?
I think it was a Disco thing and I didn't do Disco...I did Johnny Walker Red instead.
Maybe I woulda turned out better if I coulda danced Disco in a spandex three piece suit and drank wuss drinks with umbrellas in them.

Damn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What was, "Yeah, you can go home Sunday morning" just turned into, "We'll try and get you home later today or tomorrow."
I'm not a happy camper.
As a few folks can attest I get a little testy when I'm told I can go home and then either get home and rebounded back or just don't get to go home after I'm told I can.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!

My MIAness?

Hi there,

Wellst, I've done another MIA thing.
Didn't mean to, it just sorta happened.

You see, I was at the Front Range Cancer Specialists getting my last chemo of this cycle and looking forward to a week or ten days off before cycle two of how many cycles of... 22 days on, x-amount of days off,  there are in three years...

There had been some sort of emergency earlier in the day and as such I was the last person to leave and they had already shut down the front doors so I had the privilege of being escorted out by a nurse to the secret side door.

Well, knowing what to do as I had fallen three time prior to this and that my falling always was always preceded by an episode of dizziness and light headedness that happened when I stood up, I took inventory and ascertained my balance, equilibrium, dizziness and light headedness were baseline and took off after the nurse who was showing me the way out.
“Out”, is a hall and I got about a third of the way down the hall and ***damn*** the dizziness and the light headedness hit and I know I’m goin’ down. I quick look and there’s no chair or railing so I reeeeeeeealy know I’m goin’ down.
Some 25+ years ago (July 10, 1985) when I had the wreck and during OT (Occupational Therapy) in the months thereafter they taught me to “tuck and roll” on my right side so that if I fell I wouldn’t stick out my right arm to brace myself because if I did that I could/would break my right arm or wrist.
I remember my brain signaling that but the message never got to that part of my nerve system or anatomy and I said to myself…”This is probably gonna hurt.”

I was sorta right.

I didn’t loose consciousness and remember my head bouncing and hitting the floor (carpet over cement) twice and it stung some…which is past tense of sting, I know and there was no sting but I think there is a sensory difference between sting and stung… . It, my face, didn’t hurt for a few minutes.
That few minutes was occupied with getting to Urgent Care which was/is right next door.
Got there and they cleaned me up a bit cuz’ after all, you cant fall face down and not create a cut above/in your eyebrow, right?
I/they had me call Gregg because they didn’t think it a “well” idea that I drive myself home and as he only lives a short distance away he was there in a hurry. So much of a hurry that they weren’t really done assessing me.
They did some “look at my finger” things and decided I should go to the hospital.
As I agreed, Gregg said there was “that look” on my face indicating that I really didn’t wanna go, but I did.

He, that would be Gregg, called up a couple of the Book Study group that was, coincidentally meeting at my house that night, and they got my car and got it home.

So, we headed over the ER at the hospital and got there somewhere before 7:00 ~ the fall happened sometime after 6:00 ~ and they started the assessments all over again…and came up with the conclusion that I should stay overnight for observation. It is now Friday, the fall was Monday and the “overnight” for observation has now turned into, “We think you should stay at least through the weekend”, which certainly is longer that I expected…
Why that’s nearin’ a week!
And why so long you ask?
Well, seems that in their thoroughness of seeing if or not I had a concussion, they discovered that during the fall I had damage, slight, to my kidney and my spleen and had internal bleeding!
As a matter of fact, as I write this at 9:31am on 11/13/2010 I two units of blood yesterday and I had 2 the day before. I wonder if'n I'll get any more...time will tell, huh.

OK, we’ll get to the prognosis/bottom line.

The spleen and bladder will heal themselves.
I broke the bone above my eye and below. The bone above will heal itself, but the bone below which I also broke may require some fixin’ up, but that decision won’t be made officially for a day or two but it appears likely when the swelling and blood pools (a.k.a. blackeye(s)), go abate a wee bit, they will make their final recommendation.
Soooooooooo…

Seems I’m gonna be here for another day or two because my primary physician, as far as the hospital is concerned, is my local Oncologist, is off on Fridays and told me on Thursday that I should expect to see the weekend from here. There is disagreement, as well as Drs. can disagree, whether I should spend the weekend…or not! The Pulminary doc assigned to me sez, “As far as we (who ever “we” is) are concerned I can go home, the Renal docs seem to be stuck on Sat. or Sun., the facial trauma doc doesn’t care…he just wants to see me in a week, ad a doc who stumbled into my room by accident thinks after the first of the year.

All I know is I look like a raccoon.

Waaaaaaaaa...but it could happen to anybody?

...probably not anybody.
Friday I was over at a
friend's house gathering with a bunch of guys (and one gal) who used to drink to much and when the gathering was over I stood up, took two steps forward, got bubbly light headed and down I went...soooooooo reminiscent of one time prior and early in my chemo recovery that the same thing would happen.
At that time the Drs. came up that one of my meds was an alpha blocker and what it would do was upon standing up my blood pressure would go in the tank an down I would go.
That was probably in June and it hasn't happened until recently................
..............time to fess up............it has happened a couple of times since I got home from the hospital and prior to this "episode" on Friday, but at home.
I was able to get myself up which is different than the previous "episodes" that happened when I couldn't get myself up and needed help..."Help, I've fallen and I can' get up!", so I just blew them off as I dunno what.
Now I have to come clean and call/tell my Drs.
It hasn't happened since I quit taking the med which contained an alpha blocker so I dunno...

So anywho, this last fall on Friday caused me to wrench my bad knee pretty good. As I was going down I heard/felt a ripping sound in both my ankles and both my knees but i was able to lie there, take a couple of breaths, refuse any help getting up...I might fall but I'm not a wimp(?!?) and I can get myself up... .
Both my ankles and my knees had an ache after I got up and when I got home it seemed to be gone.
So I watched some mindless TV and then went to bed. I like going to bed now because I've been sleeping the night through...except for a potty break because my labs have shown that I'm still not hydrated enough so I'm drinking a lot, of water and juice(!).
So, I awoke at straight up 3:00 and went to roll over to get out of bed and OUCH!
Holy sharp pain in my bad knee, Batman!
It was 3:00 in the morning and I had to pee really bad so I hobbled/hopped to the bathroom and back and sat on the edge of the bed and pondered the situation.
I took a couple of Extra Strength Tylenol, lifted my bad leg with the bad knee up on to the bed and tried to go back to sleep but I couldn't find a comfortable position for my leg/knee so I sorta dozed, kinda.
Saturday I spent mosta the day in my chair reading and watching TV.
Connie, one of God's Agents came over and flushed my ports, yeah I'm still getting chemo and labs thru them so they need to be flushed every other day, and fashioned an ice pack out of a Zip-Lock bag and ice cubes...duh? Ice for pain and swelling?
Cindy, another one of God's Agents who has gotten me to this point in my/our(?) adventure came over to walk Rosie and dug my walker out of the garage...duh! I have a walker? which gave me some mobility.
Last night wasn't too bad and Gregg...yes, another one of God's Agents...came and took me to church where both of us had an "Aha" moment!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll speak of that when the times come and maybe blog/write about it later.

And speaking of "write about it latet, I really need to get started on re-fashioning my real estate self, so I best get goin' on that.
Peter Procrastinator needs to get to work...

Another new life...

I'm gettin' a little frustrated, but not in an antagonistic way. Ever since I left the hospital and came home I've had this "nagging (politely so)" feeling that I couldn't identify.
The last time I had a feeling like this it was after my bypass surgery in 1999 when I came away feeling much the same as I do know, re: phantom feeling.
Howsomever with the help of someone...and you know who you are...those feelings were deciphered and the conclusion was that a) Something in my life was undone, and b) I hadn't made my mark.
Of course during the discussion surrounding all this the first thing my mentor said was, "Pete, you egotistical S.O.B.. It's probably true that you've got something undone, but to be concerned over 'making your mark' is egoistical if not narcissistic. Don't you remember what Ben (one of my heroes said) when you first got sober? Didn't he say, "Pete, your job is to do the most you can for (fill in the blank) and keep the lowest possible profile while you re doing it."
Yeah, he said that and, for the most part I've tried to live up to that.
Even before I began my cancer treatment, I was given the thought that, a) I was going to make this cancer experience an adventure, and b) I was not going to let it go to waste.
Well, it certainly been an adventure but I still don't know what "not letting it go to waste" really means.

Now somehow, and I haven't made the connection with that yet but it has something to do with the phantom feeling that I'm currently having...

I'm not being entirely forthright here, because I have an inkling of what this feeling is but the problem is that I can't pin it down exactly....

...     “My problem is that I don’t know what my problem is. I think my problem is the problem…but that’s not the problem at all. My problem is not the problem, and that’s my problem!”     ...
            ~~A quote I picked up somewhere but without an author credit

I don't know if there is any truth to the "9 lives" schtick, but I've certainly used up a few...
Not the car wrecks or getting shot or getting stabbed, as my sister recalled when she was taking care of me while I was still in Denver...but more like the opposite, if you will, in that I have been born and then reborn so to speak.

• Born September 10, 1948
• Born again March 7, 1987 when I got sober
• Born again April 22, 1991 when I set foot in Pilchuck Valley Chapel
• Born Again August 30, 1999 when I had my bypass preventing a heart attack that I would not have been able to survive
• August 25, 2010 when I had my Stem Cell transplant.

This last one, as opposed to all the others has made me think that I, indeed, am embarking on a new life...but I can't put it into words...imagine, me without words!

Something is different, but I can't "place" what it is.
It has something to do with an awareness and an appreciation of everything about me...people, places and things.
But that doesn't "fit the bill".
Just saying that comes woefully short of being to 'splain my "phantom feeling(s)."

I'm sure it has something to do with coming close to dying in that awful week/10 days after the transplant.

I soooooooooowish I could adequately explain, to myself and to others my new attitude towards life and those people, places and things.

About as close as I've come was today when I went in to the office and wound up sitting in the Principals office (Boss Lady, Fran, of Re./MAX Advanced) having what at times seemed like an animated conversation about next year.
I believe next year is going to be a grrrrrreeeaat year in spite of the economy, the elections and the hangover of the past couple of years.
And this grrrrrreeeaat year is but the beginning of the future depending, of course, on attitudes, ethics, morals and principles in both our personal and professional lives.

I've been basically out of the Real Estate game since March and a lot of that time wasn't even on the sidelines and so I've come to the conclusion that I need to "re-invent" my self after 36 years in the biz...more about that in a future Post, but I do have a plan and I''m excited about it.

But that's just my "professional life."
My "official" return to work date has been bumped from Dec. 1st 'til Jan. 1st, and that's OK...it'll give me more time to work on my reinvention.

I am equally excited about all other facets of my life...our lives,  because at some level we are connected and as such we work and live together.

OK, so it's getting late and I have not even been even close to trying to verbalize my "phantom feeling" about this new life that I have.

Life is a good thing.
I guess maybe, and this applies to me, that one doesn't realize how special and wonderful something is until one almost looses it...

It's really windy/blustery out side...that's way cool.

Musings on dying...

Below please find a blurb I was asked to do for my Church newsletter.
Please to understand that with minor editing I could write it for a number of other "groups" and individuals...

                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Musing on almost dying…

            As a lot of my ECC Fellowshippers know, for a lot of years I’ve been a card carrying member of Alcoholics Anonymous (Shhhhhh! Don’t tell anybody unless you want to or think I might be able to be of help to someone!!), the Granddaddy of all 12 Step Programs.

            The Third Step of which is, “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.”

            My first near death experience came as a direct result of my alcoholism back in 1985 when, drunk, I got into a horrific car accident which nearly cost me my life.

            My most recent was/is Multiple Myeloma…an incurable form of blood/bone marrow cancer and I’ve gone through the disease and the treatment thereof sober, although not always of sound mind.

            After several months of chemo and other preparation, on August 25^th I had a stem cell transplant, which the Drs. say will statistically give me another 10 years!

            The period of time leading up to the transplant was a piece of cake.

            The week or 10 days after was a nightmare.

            A combination of chemo, my body writhing trying to accept the stem cells, even if they were my own and an extended visit by the Dark Side dang near did me in.

            I got to the point where I wanted to die and to the point I was transferred to intensive care. I remember pretending to be asleep and there were two nurses hovering around and one said to the other, “Is he going to make it?”

            The response was quick, “We’re not sure.”

            I can remember thinking, “Oh, good. This might all be over soon.”

            At that moment and for a period of days before and after I was under the influence of a power/spirit greater than myself and I was the soccer ball in a soccer game called Spiritual Warfare.

            Had I not taken that Third Step and made that part and parcel of my life I would have not survived this ordeal.

            Even at my lowest when I was telling relatives and people that I was wanted to and was going to die, the bilateralness of pact I made with God proved itself. He kept His Word and even though I wanted to check out, He held me tight and protected me from the Dark Side and from dying.

            How’d He do that?

            Through you guys and others who lifted me up in prayer, came to see me, called me, e-mailed me and sent me all those fabulous birthday cards which one of you taped to the wall of my hospital room directly across from my bed.

            Perhaps you have never been aware of God the Father acting in behalf of, in protection of and fighting to keep you whole…I have.

            Coming up on two months since my transplant I am home getting well enough to return to work and having a lt of time to reflect on this new life that I have been given and knowing exactly the Source of this life.

           

Sidebar, sorta: I thank God for this life and I thank you for this life. But a simple thank you seems sooooooo woefully inadequate.

                        I don’t have the words.

                        As Agents of His Goodness, He, through you saved a wretch like me.

                        Thank you.

            

It's kinda good to be gettin' settled in...

It really is.
There's a lot more to it, however, than I imagined!
I thank and pray for blessings for all the people who attended to my house both inside and outside whilst I was gone. And it would appear that some, or all of them were a bit more detailed than I. It took me 4 days to find my coffee pot!
Sleeping in my bed again was/is mahvelous! I'm still having seeping problems that came home with me from the hospital but we're working on that...
I've settled into both an acceptance of and the reality of having to have chemo for the next three years.
"Next three years", you ask.
Well, so did I.
But I got reminded that Multiple Myeloma is an incurable (for now) type of cancer so the present goal is to put me in and to keep me in a state of forced remission for the long haul. It seems that with all the chemo they can't, short of really killing me, adios all the Myeloma cells and so their will always be some lurking round and so we're fighting a "stand-off" battle ad infinitum.
So, once a week I go in for chemo and twice a week I go in for labs, a.k.a. blood letting, to monitor what be going on.
And once every other week, ad infinitum, I go down to Denver for a check in/up with my Oncologist down there.
But that all is really a small price to pay, if'n you catch my drift.

It's good to be home!

Tis good to be home, it really is...
It took me a day or two to get used to my sanitized house and to find things...but I ain't complainin'!
Thank yous to all that toiled over, around, in and through my house so that I could come home, and "thank you(s)" just doesn't, and isn't adequate.
Then it took another few days to go shopping and acquire and stock up on suggested and needed things.
And then it took a day or two to go to T-Mobile and get one of those "stickem in your USB port" gizmos so that I could have, and now have internet access at home.

Twas good to go to a couple, well maybe three of my commitments this week, pkus my office Sales meeting. Made it to the First Church of the Second Chance, my AA Home Group and Church this morning.
That's a good start to, as my friend Vicky sez, "Getting back into the mainstream of life."

My, "official" return will be Nov. 25...three months out from my transplant which was August 25th. Nov. 25th is somewhere around Thanksgiving, isn't it?
I think that's fitting, huh.
Until then I still need to be ultra careful which is why I need to where a mask until then whenst I'm around

...OK, so now it's Monday and I've gotten to the office for a bit and now am back home with Gregg figuring out some paperwork and insurance and then go to my Oncologist up here and query why his immediate treatment/chemo plan is different than my Denver Oncologist...

I might get back to this yet today!

24 hours and counting...

You know it seems like forever since my diagnosis last March, but now that a large part {I can't say portion because I now begin a 3 year chemo/maintenance program} of the initial treatment is over and I look back it seems as if he time went by soooooo quickly.
Tomorrow at this time I hope to be tossing my last bag of "stuff" in Doug's vehicle and headed home!
I can't wait!
I unofficially tallied up my days I've slept in my own bed since June and I come up with a total of 3!!!
It is going to be soooooo good to sleep in my own bed again in my house which I may or may not recognize...there has been a plethora of people to whomst I cannot 'splain my grattitude to who have gone in and decluttered, sanitized, re-arranged, landscaped and brought it up to the point where I can be released to go home.

Dang all yous guys, yous just opened up the floodgate of tears again.
Simple "thank yous" just don't cut it...I wish I knew what did.

I go in this afternoon to see my Oncologist down here for "formal discharge" which should be forthcoming unless my labs,a.k.a. blood letting, which have been good all week get whacky. When I went in yesterday to have them done there was one pesky kidny function that nwas trending upward (not good) but the nurse who took my "labs" said it diddn't look "all that bad" so I'm just going to keep myself well hydrated today which seems to help and I should have to problem "passing the test".
I see him at 4:30, which means as those who have accompanied me can attest more like 5:30 - 6:00 ish which is too late for me to check out of Brent's Place...the marvelous place that I've been for the past two weeks, a.k.a. transitional housing.
It is going to be soooooooo goot to be home tomorrow.
I still have to be really careful for another month or so.

It seems that three months out from transplanct seems to be some sort of benchmark...That's when I'm supposed to be released from needing the 24/7 babysitting and can "go back to worl" and can do some traveling.
I'm gonna make one more plea to be able to go to Chicago at the end of October to attend a wedding, but the response I got late last week was, "You can talk to Dr. Lee about it, but I dont like your chances."

Before I got released to Brent's Place and once afterward I was given the, "Let's fill you up with fear speech(s) from a couple of the NPs (Nurse Practitioners) which did indeed scare the h*** out of me.
I was told, didn't need to be reminded cuz I didn't know that I have an immune system that is building itself up from almost nothing...so much so that although I'll need my puppy shots all over again I can't have those until maybe 6 months post transplant and a sure way for me to off myself would be to go and get a flu shot! Seems that I can catch something and have it quickly become mega-serious in almost no time flat which is why they want me to take my temperature twice a day and if it's over 101.5 degrees it's "don't pass go and get to the ER asap."
I was under the impression hat the primary reason I needed the 24/7 was that if I cut or bruised myself I could bleed out because of my platelet cound being so low, but as it turns out it's that I can develop and infection marked by fever soooooo quickly that I would need medical attention asap.
So, transplant August 25th, 3 months out November 25th.
You know, that's 'bout Thanksgiving and I have now and will have a lot to be thankful for, huh...

Soooooo, I need your help on something, pleeeeeeeeze.
Would you remind me, gently please, after all I'm sensitive you know, that if you see me trying to do too much, like going to the office every day or being out in public without a mask that I ain't supposed to be doing that.
I am not going to isolate and hole up at home until Thanksgiving, but I need to wear a mask when I'm out in public and that means Church, the office, AA and/or anywhere there might be germs lurking about.
I remember Dr. McFarland, my Fort Collins Oncologist telling me that, "More people die with Myeloma than of it" and thinking that to be some sort of relief, but I've come to understand that what could kill me is the "catching" of something until my immune system is back up and running that could indeed kill me.

And contrary to just a few weeks ago, I 'm not ready to check out.
That few days, although somewhat hazy, that nI really was dead {no pun intended} serious about "checking out" is still fresh in my mind.
There's one person in particular that I need to revisit those days with because a dad has no right to scare the h*** out of his son  by telling him that "I'm ready and I want to die so, 'see ya'".

I'm too excited about going home that I'm not in the mood for picking up on some retro-blogging, but I'll get back to that because there's too much that I need to commit to my journal, of which this will become so that I can look back someday and say, "Wow, I really did live/go through all that."

Later.

Better living through chemistry...

Back in the late 60's {that would be 1960s}, "Better Living Through Chemistry" was the montra of a lot of us ol' hippy and psuedo hippy types.
I/we just cruised along popping 'lil orange, blue, white , black or whatever color of pills or capsules into our gullets and swished them down with some Ripple or Annie Green Springs, called it good and wandered around giggling and doing foolish things for hours.
My/our mental states were altered, sometimes significantly and I/we thought nothing of it.

A lot of my previous post and of the time since March 17 (diagnosis) I have spent with a slug of chemicals being introduced into my system. One of my Nurse Practitioners took it upon herself from the very get go of my admission to the hospital told me and reminded me that I was going to experience a lot of side effects from all the meds and the chemo but she referred mainly to the physical side effects.
It wasn't until being into the mental side effects that anyone told me that I would be experiencing some drug induced whackiness...which came true but I can only attribute drug induced whackiness to a small part of the hell that I went through in my previous post.
There are some, no doubt who will want to lay the majority of the blame on my mental status as being drug induced, and they will be right as far as they go but that hindsight and having experienced what I did leads me to know that all the drugs were, besides their intended pharmaceutical purposes, doing was acting like Miracle Gro to the Dark Side "weeds" that were sprouting and temporarily flourishing with a vengeance.
The chemo that I was taking in Fort Collins was more of a "hold at bay" attempt rather than a Myeloma eradication course.
That didn't start until I got down to the hospital in Denver and was hooked up to the pole that held the chemo drugs and other "things" that needed to be introduced into me via a drip system.
I found a morbid curiousness that for the weeks that I was receiving the heavy duty chemo {the one whose job it was to go in and basically come as close as it could to killing me by wiping out most of my white blood cells, platelets along with as many Myeloma cancer cells it could run down} that the nurses who would come in to change out the chemo bags would enter my room and put on disposable haz-mat suits...and I would think, "Haz-mat suits? And this is the stuff that you are putting in me?"

I had a really good check-up with Dr. Lee Monday and I think that both Bonnie and Doug who accompanied  me got the same read that I did that he was almost surprised at the positiveness of my progress!
The week before when Stacey and I went for a check-up he sort of laid out the picture of what the next few month would look like...2-3 trips to UCH (University of Colorado Hospital) per week, trips to FRCS (Front Range Cancer Specialists in Fort Collins) twice a week or so for chemo, etc. ... but we came away with my only having to come down to UCH every other week for a while and non invasive trips to FRCS for chemo either in the form of pills or shots with lab work that my indicate the need for IV fluids if I don't keep myself hydrated.
My "maintenance" treatment will consist of chemo, via the shots or pills for 3 years.

That's what I know now, and I can live with that...better living, or life if you will, through chemistry.

Some retro-blogging...

I'm gonna do a little retro-blogging here if'n you don't mind...and some of it might be a little squeamish so keep this away from children under 12.
Retro-blogging?
Since the day or so after transplant the days and nights for a couple of weeks seem to run together, some of them are just gone and some of them I am aware of and know...at some level...what was going on but right now I couldn't identify those days on a calendar.
I'm remembering, with some clarity what some of those days were like and I feel blessed to have had a real live person who walked with me through those times to bounce things of of and to remind me of some things that were hazy and lifted the fog surrounding them.
Thanks, Bonnie.
Anywho, since about three day after cancer/Myeloma diagnosis I have confidently espoused that this wasn't gonna kill me.
I don't know how close I came to lying.
This is one of those days/times that I can't pinpoint...but Bonnie could, Sept. 4ish... .
Because of some erratic behavior and "fighting" the system I found myself whisked away from my 11th floor suite and down in the Intensive Care Unit.
Some time around then is when I "lost it".
I lost my will to live.
My son Matt showed up and I think I scared the heck out of him. He came to see how his ol' man was doing and left not knowing. I can remember telling him that all I wanted to do was die. I can remember crying while I was telling him this and looking at the puzzled frightened expression on his face. He left as abruptly as he came and I don't blame him at all...now, just a few weeks later I can sort off take myself out of the action part of the picture and observe it from a totally different, almost 3rd party perspective. I can see myself struggling in the bed, refusing to keep the oxygen mask on, tossing and turning fetal positions right to left and begging God to just end it all.
I can remember getting to ICU and having Bonnie show up and telling her that, "All I want to do is to go home." And being dead serious about it.
And all the while this is happening I am hurting both physically and mentally and hurting soooooo bad that no drug that they gave me, and they were giving me a lot, could diminish either pain.
I can remember having absolutely no hope that I was going to be able to endure any more "treatment" and that my bucket was empty and there was no use in trying to fight the fight any more and that the world, or at least my world would be better off if I were dead.
There were no thoughts of suicide, but seemingly endless pleading with God to just, "Take me home".
And in hindsight{Ain't hindsight wonderful?} it seems all so preposterous to be begging that which could sustain me, and did, to just "take me home."
But I did want to die, and with all the earnestness at my command, I wished for that to be.
The darkness of that place is still fresh in my mind and I have come to the realization that it wasn't a bad dream but was taking place in real-time.
I was dying, but I couldn't stop my heart from beating or from breathing with or without the oxygen.
I was dying, I know that now and the thing that I said wouldn't or couldn't kill me was certainly playing a role in my dying.
I didn't know that I was dying as it was happening because at the same time I had relinquished my will to live a terrific war started within me...I choose to call that spiritual warfare but others may call it something else, and if they do, that's ok...
Lying in bed being watched 24/7 was a defenseless 61 year old who had some of the cognitive abilities of a 6 year old, the physical strength of a 2 year old and the brattiness of a 16 year old.
What had happened to me was that, for whatever reason or excuse I had lost my personall one-on-one relationship with God and had just given up, or surrendered if you will, to the powers that be ans there are powers hat be who don't ride in the same herd as God.
I have for some time now I have referred to that as the Dark Side.
The Dark Side certainly had me...
I had simply forgotten//let go of/had/taken away from or whatever happened that Spirit, maybe a.k.a. attitude that I wasn't fighting this fight alone but that I had the Great Physician in attendance along with a host of His secular nurses/angels and that all I had to do was just rely on Him and them and that I would be "seen through" all this and that I would survive physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

This is/was the 2nd time in my life that my bucket has been empty and there's been a gaping hole in the bottom of the bucket and I had nowhere to turn.
The situations were different and the reasons for their occurring were different but there was a spirit component, both light and dark involved.
Both were incredibly difficult to be in and to get through, but I did and have.

This one, however involved an element of dying that the first one didn't.
At some level I think that somewhere along the line be it in ICU or on the 11th floor at the hospital I did die, maybe not physically but certainly to self.
To be in a position where I didn't care about anything or anybody, that I just wanted to "go home" and that it simply just hurt tooooooo much to live.
Lying in bed I can remember it feeling like I was in a cacoon, it was dark and I didn't have the strrength or the will power to try and break my way out.

I can remember two of the ICU nurses talking as I was pretending to be asleep and one saying to the other, "Is he going to make it?", and the response was, "I don't know."
Little did I know until the past few days that there were similar conversations being held in other places and other venues.
When I heard the nurses talk and the, "I don't know" answer to the question, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe "this" would all be over soon.

Somewhere in my library I have a book written many years ago titled, "The Dark Night of the Soul" and when I get home I need to dig that out and re-read it.

Although much of the time post-transplant runs together and I do have some blank spots, the memory of the awfulness of having no hope still lingers.

I am grateful that in that particular battle in that particular spiritual war zone that the Light Side won out...and it won out without my permission.
Good thing.

Back to the report(s) of my demise being greatly exaggerated...

Hi there,
   My how time flies when you are having fun?!?...
   I am now a day short of being in my transitional housing down here to Denver and it. as has been the case with virtually everything since we started on this Adventure has not been quite what I expected.
   I have been back to the hospital every day since I got here and those trips average 2-4 hours and thy exhaust me.
   I was told that fatigue and exhaustion would be companions for a while after the transplant (A month ago today!!!) but I had no idea how dang near debilitating "it" would be...and I am going to use that as an excuse, no let's make that reason for not blogging and returning e-mails. Another reason would be that my phone went belly up and that was my lifeline for not just phone calls, but texts and e-mails. I'm not back up and running yet, but we're getting there. Max borrowed me a T-Mobile Blackberry but I've had a devil of a time getting it to work although I now can make and receive calls but texts and e-mails are still on the horizon.
   Anywho, my sister Stacey left about an hour or so ago to go back to Iowa after being my caregiver and babysitter for a week and just handed me off to Bonnie who now gets to, with my permission take over many of the aspects of running my life for me and then in a couple of day I'll get handed off to someone else and that will be the case until I get back home to Fort Collins which I hope will be in a week or 10 days!
   I didn't know, nor was I told or prepped (on purpose which was probably a good thing) that the worst "period" of recovery from the transplant would be post transplant...and it has.
   I wound up in ICU for a couple of days after going through a brief period of, "I can't do this any more. Just take me home, please?".
   That's about as low as I've ever gotten in my whole life but I appreciate all of you who kept the faith and prayers up while I was unable to.
   That's a really scary place when you just, "give up" and want it to be all over. I never though I would be there, but I got there and in hindsight I can see how it wasn't me who pulled me through.
   As with most parents, there comes a time when your kid(s) become your reason for living even if you can't logistically be close to them and that's where I have been for a loooooong time now, like decades.
   And to have Matt show up just when I'm at the depths of despair was nothing more than a supernatural event...thanks, Dad.
   I already regret not blogging through a lot of those times because this vehicle will become part of my journal and part of my autobiography, "I Don't Do Rough Drafts."
   And a lot of what I need to remember is not how "bad" the "bad" was/is, but how I really did get through it and that tomorrow will really be better than today and how an artesian well of love and support sprung from seemingly no where and that through this whole ordeal I was never alone...ever.
   I'm gonna get off this incredibly uncomfortable chair now and move over to the recliner and rest...gee, I've got it rough don't I?
   I'm back in ouch...thanks!

Reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated!

Hi there!
I'm not gonna detail th lat couple of weeks in this post...it's late and I don't remember some of it!
Going to ICU was a real experience; having Matt show up just as I was getting serious about just cuttin' loose and "going home" certainly could be called a miracle; having people come visit me and having absolutely no recollection of them being here; being told I could get discharged and having no place to go to until I/we just gave that dilemma to God and He took care of it; having my hopes of getting discharged dashed after being told on two occasions I was given a date for discharge...the latest being tomorrow (Sunday the 19th at noon) that I'm holding my breath to make sure...as if I have anything to say about it...happens.
We'll talk tomorrow and I'll update you...and me...!

Update (by Doug)

Friends,
Your prayers & well wishes mean so much to Pete - PLEASE continue to keep him in your prayers and thoughts as he journeys through a difficult phase of treatment.

As he last reported, the days leading up to his stem cell infusion caused some cognitive problems due mostly to the high chemo doses he was subjected to.

His stem cell infusion (8/25/10) procedure went very well - although side effects occurred immediately thereafter (an expected outcome).  Within just a day or so, Pete developed additional health concerns which have taken time to control and manage (he was completely immune-compromised and highly susceptible to infection until regeneration of cells began).

This part of treatment has been extremely difficult on Pete, leaving him unable to communicate with you via normal means (cell, email, blog, etc.).  Additionally, fatigue and other issues have "robbed him" of the desire to do so too.  Hence, one purpose of this post.

His siblings have travelled to Denver over the Labor Day weekend and are with him now as he moves forward in the treatment program.  We feel his basic needs are being met at this time and would request visitations be "put on hold" until further notice.  We should await Pete's "green light" to resume those visits.

His medical team at UCH have been superb ... he is receiving the best medical attention & treatment options associated with MM.  I can't express my gratitude deeply enough for the care, professionalism, love & quick actions displayed by staff on the 11th Floor and all associated with the BMT program.

At this time, his treatment plan consists of arresting the health concerns plaguing him and we anticipate that his eventual discharge to convalesce in an apartment near UCH will occur before month's end.  Regeneration of cells was detected this week - a huge step in the right direction!!

His spirit remains strong despite all the tribulations he has faced in recent days - and much of that is due in no small part to the many, many friends who continue to pray for his speedy recovery.  Thanks!

Long time no "talk"?!?

Howdy,
Seems like a long time since I've "blogged", a.k.a., we've talked...
Well it has been and I ain't even gonna go back and figure out how long, but it's been a while.

So, I'll kinda bring yous up to speed, even if'n I can't 'member last we spoke...

I'm gonna get my transplant tomorrow, wowsers!
What a journey/adventure!
The past few days have been sorta strange. I received the last of the "wipe out my bone marrow/white cells/red cells/ platelets chemo and they also wiped out a lot of my memory.
Some of you know that years ago (23+) I used to drink a wee bit, and some of you will recollect a post around the ... no, that was July 10th and had to do with my MVA (medicinal talk for Motor Vehicle Accident, which is the verbiage they like to use in here for why my left arm doesn't function!).
I guess I wasn't diagnosed with Myeloma (Bone Marrow Cancer) until March 17, 2010 or elst I probably would have blogged about what happened to me on March 7, 1987.
Anywho, ante-grade post (a.k.a. sometime in the future) 3/7/87, the past few days have sorta reminded me of what happened to me in the past few days.
Nicole, one of my Nurses, just came in and I asked her what happened to me in the past few days.
She said, "Chemo brain"...as if I didn't know what Chemo brain was.
Chemo brain s a temporarily {I hope!} malady which affects the brain causing it to have "crashes", most of which are memory related.
I don't clearly remember what has happened to me in the past few days because they "bombarded" me with so much chemo tho effectively kill off as most of the cancer cells, unfortunately along with a bunch of my healthy cells, as they could prior to transplant {TOMORROW!!!}.
So, if you called or dropped by and I seemed "out of it", I apologize, but I was "out of my head".
Somes of yous who have experienced this or know someone who has experienced this will know what I'm talking about.


Whilst I was "out of it", the most wonderful Real Estate Office in the universe, RE/MAX Advanced, of course, staged a benefit car wash for me raising a significant amount of money to help me through this "ordeal" and for that I am eternally, like forever, grateful. To work at an establishment that is as caring and as wonderful is something that is to be cherished, and I cherish "it" in "its" entirety.
Yous alls @ RE/MAX Advanced from Tammy who opens up every morning to Sandy who shuts 'er down and makes her sparkle and spearheaded by this Specialness Person whomst I respect beyond measure are simply beyond treasure and I mean that, not just because of the Car Wash but because yous are whos yous are and have been planted at 1018 Centre there to Fort Collins, CO on a very special mission...if yous be wondering what that mission is, just come walk in the door and take a whiff of the air, as there is something very special about what you will breathe and it, the air, will bring about a spiritual change in you if you let it...I promise.

Nuff said, nuff cried.

I'll "talk" to you tomorrow before and/or after transplant...new/extended life.

Wow.

Picking up from August 18...

...I have written and lost a couple of blogs since the last one and I am exhausted one more time. They either went out into cyberblog space or somehow I adiose them!
Anywho, I might just wait till tomorrow...that'd be friday!
G'nite!

Well, Chemo brain is a lot of fun and a lot more than chemo contributes to it me thinks...

from reading over the last blog I will pick up from where I left off...
And please 'xuse the Pre-Parkinson's, 'Palsey Tremor-ed keystrokes that seem to plague my typing when I get a' key-strokin' when I'm bushed but, we's tired after a very up and down day...

Oh Good grief Charlie Brown

This blog, as are most of them I suppose, is more for me than yous.
I just re-read the last blog I wrote about going home and how excited I was...well, everything went to hell before I even left the hospital. It was nobodies fault other than me and my thinker. I could have been home but as things came up and people had to cancel I had a couple of people who were willing and could have come down but in trying to save them the trip I hung in with some who couldn't come when they originally thought they could and then they were willing to have there spouse come down, but that, in net terms would get me home about the time as someone who I thought was on they way but was having cell phone issues and about the time I caught up with him he was already back in Fort Collins but was willing to come down and my headache (which was bone pain.)..thanks Gregg! My skull was hurting so it was really a skull ache!

So I started my 4 days in Fort Collins on the wrong foot...it wouldn't matter because bone pain in fused itself in to both my feet.

When I left I had a list of 17 things that I wanted to do while "home". I brought that list back with me and there are still 12 items not checked off!

Friday I felt so-so but I did get a couple of things done including a Fort Collins Board of Realtors and made it to Jack's meeting which was not on the list because there were two things that were not on the list and I crawled to the las one, a bbq @ Max & Sandys.

Saturday I set out to finish my list and attend a bbq that our Monday night Group was going to have at my house......but by early afternoon my legs and my shoulders hurt soooo bad I had to go home and cancel it.
I had, in spite of the pain medicine, a horrible night but did manage to get to church. After church I just went home and my "Angel care giver" Cindy came over as did Super-didn't-know-she-was-gonna-be-a-nurse-Connie. They packed me, fed me, flushed my ports and sadly, left cuz they had to.

This morning, promptly at 8:00 as instructed I called down here to ask when my bed would be ready and was told I could come down because hey had several beds!...

...I'l finish this up in the morning. I'm bushed.

Home!!!

I'm Headed home!
Max is gonna come pick me up at 4:40ish and I'm outa here...'til Monday.
So I'll get to make church tonight (the First Church of the Second Chance) and then Sunday (Evangelical Covenant Church of Fort Collins) first service, and Thursday night I'll be able to make that secret...not so secret Fellowship (it's got to do with not drinking and you'd be able to find it in the front part of the telephone book) as I will Jack's meeting of that Fellowship and another one of those at 5:30pm on Sunday that meets at the Vineyard Church!
I'm taking home a box of 50 masks so I can do that and also pop in to RE/MAX Advanced whenever I want!
So even though I wish I didn't have to come home, I'm a Happy Cancer Cowboy that I do!
Cindy's gonna flush out my tri-fusion every day I'm home, Rosie's probably gonna give the cold shoulder at first, and I'll get to sleep in my own bed!
Wowsers!!!!!!!!

Today...

...this is how it is (for now).

   I have been doing exceptionally well, or should I say my body has with the collections. Yesterday they were expecting to get...

   Did I already tell you this? I think I did. If I didn't I will sometime.

   Anywho, there's a chance depending on how I do tomorrow that I might go home tomorrow!

   If not and if I do well (collecting) Thursday then I go home after collection...and the same for Friday.

   It is now not up to how many cells they get but as to how my body/bones are reacting...if they are not reacting well then collection efforts stop.

   If I had to guess, and all my guesses are suspect at best, I would guess that it would be tomorrow.

   About 1/3 into collection today my butt started to hurt and then my legs and then my arms and skull...it was that bone pain that they had promised me and I had sorta experienced before.

   They couldn't give me anything substantial for the pain so I took as much Tylenol as they would let me. As soon as the collection was over I had an Oxycodone ready and popped it. 

   I laid down on the bed so they could give me my Neupogen shots and it took almost everything I could to order dinner and do this.

   If I go back and lay down I may miss dinner, but until the Oxycodone kicks in my butt bones and my leg bones and my skull bone really hurt.

   Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

IJDFM...

So, it's approaching Sunday evening and I have felt like c*** for two days.
Just like the last time I had a round of Neupogen shots, I get bone pain which is really hard to describe...but it hurts like h***. Along with that I get a flu like feeling with achy joints and muscles, a low grade headache and
                                                    ***************...that was yesterday and my dinner came and afterwards I was just to dang exhausted to finish.

So now it is Monday, and as we "speak" I am getting harvested of stem cells!

But let me get back to yesterday and IJDFM.
I had thought been lead to believe that I was going to be here for the duration, meaning through another collection of stem cells (they/we didn't get enough the 1st time), through Conditioning, a.k.a. turbo chemo virtually wiping out most of my white blood cells, platelets and taking a toll on my red blood cells, through the 1 day break  and then the transfusion, which only takes a day, and then the 3 week inpatient bubble boy thing followed by a 3-6 week stint in transitional housing thenst back home.
Well, all that changed with the interjection of a 2-10 day discharge/re-admission stint spell dictated by the insurance co. (?).
When I found that out I went ballistic.
For the first time in years, maybe since I got sober, I felt like throwing something...I didn't, but I sure felt like it...
Maybe that all came about as the result of me watching, so far, all but one of the entire seasons of 24...when I grow up I wanna be just like Jack Bauer... .
Anywho, I threw tantrums, over-voiced my opinion to anyone who had scrubs or a tie on and of course got no where.
Somewhere in my mental rage, Cindy showed up and calmed me down.
Thanks to her, I was able to cull things down to It Just Don't F***ing Matter to by the time she left, It Just Don't Frickin' Matter...IJDFM.
You know, it really doesn't. In the grand scheme of things, what's 2-10 days, a.k.a. a few days, matter. Next year at this time when I'm all more better and can look back at all this and laugh {And if I'll be able to look back at next year and laugh, why shouldn't I laugh at it now?} why should I sweat a few days, right?
I'll be home for Christmas...that would make a great song lyric wouldn't it?
Now I'm getting de-hooked up from my cell extracting machine and am surrounded by nurses, one of which seems over anxious to give me my Neupogen shots-which I did not get during my last collection.
I thought of taking a picture of my belly and posting it, but that would be toooooooo gross and inappropriate.
Suffice it to say it's black and blue from one side do the other. My other option would be to get all these shots in my armpit!
No thanks, please!
I asked why I hat to get them in my belly or my armpit and was told it was for quick absorption.
OK, they do Medicine and I do Real Estate and I know I'm good at what I do and I trust they are good at what they do!
I''m dehooked, which is 'bout as good as being de-detethered...maybe even better because when I'm tethered I can still pull my pole around but when I'm hooked up to the cell-collection machine I'm there for the count.
So, I think I'll grab a mask and go down to the Cafe and get myself a treat!

OK...

...so in the grand scheme of things it just doesn't matter, right?
I mean, what's 4 days or 10 days anyway, right?
It's all gonna work out the same right?
It's all gonna be okay.

I lied...

...I didn't mean to but Dr. Lee's Nurse/Translator/Assistant just came in (11:12) o tell me, "No, you're not staying. After the collection...which ain't happening today...we're going to discharge you for anywhere from 4 to 10 days depending if  bed opens up (I'm in a "bed" right now Gawdamnit!!!) and what your insurances says.
So, sometime next week I'll be coming home for who knows how long.
I've played this frickin' game before!
They sent me home for "a week or 10 days, and then after driving down here for the first three (3) days (x 69 miles...their figure...= 217 miles)
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH.

Cindy just came in, maybe she can calm me down because right now I'm one unhappy cowboy.

Oh the frustrations...

Really, just when I thought I knew what was going on, Blam! Sock! Bang! Sploosh! Splat! ...my attempt at the ol' Batman TV Show.
I thought I was here for the duration, i.e. Neupogen shots, Stem Cell collection, Conditioning (turbo-chemo), Transplant, Bubble Boy, Transitional Housing, House arrest, Freedom.
Two or three days ago my main Dr. comes in and lays a bomb on me...at least for me it's a bomb...that after collection he's going to send me home for a week or 10 days...been there done that and it lasted three days and each one of those three days I had to drive back down here for something before they lured me back with an urgent need to see a Cardiologist that never transpired.
I don't speak broken Korean-medical-English and as he blew into my room washed his hands, told me and washed his hand as e was leaving I hardly had time to get a word in edgewise.
The next day, so I guess that would make it two days ago he came in...my days tend to run together, which would have been yesterday (maybe?) he came in and determined to get the first word in as soon as I saw it was him I jumped out of bed and we sparred. He, I think, began to waffle and in broken-medical-English said he'd look into it and would let me know by the end of the day...which did not happen, of course.
So, as I write I am sitting at my "hospital desk", watching House at 8:44 in the morning which is somehow appropriate and waiting for him to come in.
After he left yesterday I was guardedly optimistic that I would be able to stay for the duration...but now I'm not so sure.
I just want this over and done with.
There was a time when I said that I would ante cede it with, whatever the result. But I don't mean that now. What I  mean is that I want to get my life back and then I think I'm being left out of the loop, have no say in what is happening with my life and am simply out of control.
When that starts to happen I begin to spiral downward and using all nine of my fingernails slow my descent long enough to where I can grab on to something and just hold on...and that's where I am now.
BTW, the plan was for them to begin collection of my cells at 8:00 and it's now 8:51.
Why should I be surprised...not a question but a statement.
I'm waiting..........9:01...9:10...9:19...am I sensing a nine second fuse here?...
He just came in...


I'm staying, I'm staying, I'm staying!


Yippee! Skippee! Hippee! Hippee: Horayee! 
No TV Show, I'm just the happiest patient in the Univeritey of Colorado Hospital!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ol' far away from home week...

This has been  a few days of "catching up" with some ol' friends from far away, a long time ago and not so far away...but too far.. .
Stein, way good to hear from you and I'm sorry we had to cut our conversation short because your water for boiling crabs had reached critical mass. Sorry not for cutting the call short but because I couldn't be there to claim cripple and have someone crack crab for me.
Ever see the movie, "Bucket List"?
I love both Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson.
Anywho, I've started both a 'Bucket List' and a 'Deja Vu Bucket List, i.e. things that I've done before but would like to do again before I hop the twig.'
On the Deja Vu list is having Abalone. I haven't had Abalone for, let's see...2010 - 1973 = 37, 37 years, yet it is my all time favorite food beating out Yorkshire Pudding, perfectly grilled boneless Rib Steaks and fried Oysters.
When I was living in Washington I would sneak over or down to Trader Vic's an indulge in Abalone.
I even got on th internet and Googled around only to find that the nearest Trader Vic's is like in Hong Kong now...But there is a Restaurant in Colorado Springs that serves Abalone and when I get outa here and am well enough to travel I'm gonna head down there. Yeah, I know it's not on the coast but it bears the hell out of having to hitch hike to Hong Kong.
Richard, evn though you are "across the pond" the book which embodies "coffee table book" to the extreme I see virtually every day because I do have it out on the table. I'm gonna have to search the bowels of my computer to find that piece that Japke wrote for and about Reme.'..that can be something I can do here because I know I saved it but that was like 3 computers ago and I've kept all the files over the years just like I've always kept my maiden name.
And Mary, you insane goofball. Oh how I've missed your free spirit, your intense need to have fun and enjoy life...not to mention riding motorcycles together. Twas more than way good and way cool to reconnect on Skype.
Stephanie, Frank, Jim and I'm forgetting but not slighting others, I feel soooooo blessed to have enjoyed your presence in my life and I feel equally blessed and humbled that you stay in touch...yous just didn't make the "past few days" cut.


I thought I'd have a zillion & 3 things to put on my Bucket List and my Deja Vu Bucket list but both of them, to this point are short.
I don't know whether that's because I've lead a rather mundane life and have no dreams or that because the things past, present and future that are truly important to me x 12 are scarce and valuable and that's not all bad. I mean if there were a thousand Hope Diamonds then the Hope Diamond would have no luster (Sorry...bad pun. It's a birth defect.).
I didn't see that movie until after I had been diagnosed and a really good friend of mine, that would be you Michelle, brought it over and at first I was p***ed when I started watching it because it was about two guys dying in a cancer ward!
"How in the h*** could she think tht I would want to watch this!"
But as the movie unfolded it  became apparent and shortly after it was over it became clear.
So thanks, Michelle.
Really.

Life is good.

Straws...

I like straws.
I mean, I really like straws.
Not for shooting spitwads.
But for drinking.
Drinking out of cans, drinking out of glasses, drinking out of almost any reasonable container.
My favorite drink here, besides the Vitamin Zero drinks you guys bring me, is Ocean Spray Cranberry juice. It comes in  these undersized containers but I can still peel the top back and drink with a straw.
I love the slurping/gurgling sound that you can make with a straw as you near emptying whatever container you are drinking out of.

What non-sensical thing do you love?

Thalidomide!!!

I'm like really old.
There's a lot of people even here in the hospital who don't remember the Thalidomide malady of the 50's & early 60's, and I suppose there be some of yous that don't either,,,but that's okay cuz I'm old, and I'm gonna get a lot older!!!!
Thalidomide was responsible for an epidemic of birth defects way back when, but it has a new use today as a chemo for certain cancers and mine is one.
Thalidomide I think was brought up at one of my first consultations I had with my Cancer Docs and it has been brought up about every time "they" go over my med lists whether it be in Ft. Collins or here. I've just kinda given whoever the RCA Dog look (People don't remember the RCA Dog either!) and they acknowledged the look and said, "You don't have it?"
And I say, "No."
Late this morning I got a call from a Pam at a CVS Pharmacy in Pittsburgh, PA saying she had some and I qualified for a grant from the Chronic Disease Foundation for $7,000 that should take care of the co-pay for the rest of the year...this having cancer and getting treated for it is reeeeeallly spendy.
I told my Nurse practitioner about it and she got a hold of one of my advocates here at the hospital and she came and talked to me and as it turned out a pharmacy here in Denver had also gotten the word that I needed the Thalidomide and they also were aware of the grant.
Oh, okay. Back to the RCA Dog look.
So apparently within a week or so I'll have the Thalidomide and it'll be shipped to my house!
Gregg will nab it and bring it down.
I've promised to use it responsibly and not get pregnant.

Yesterday and today have been really good days and thanks to Doug and my sister I can breathe a lot easier. I'm humbled and love you both.
Not that I'm not humbled by all the other people and "organizations" that have helped, offered to help and just simple stepped up to the plate be it materially, emotionally or spiritually...I am humbled, love and appreciate you all.

Today I thought that maybe i was going to go have a heart biopsy...that had been the plan for a week or so. By early afternoon that had been canceled, but bring on the MRI!
It's now 6:33pm and transport hasn't come to get me so I went ahead and ordered dinner.

You know, I get pretty frustrated frequently because it seems as if I'm out of the loop when it comes to my care and treatment, but there's this Still (sometimes) Small (sometimes) inner voice (always) that calms me (when I let it) and reminds me that I really am in good, if not wonderful hands and to just go with it...so I am!

Bad nights turn into good days!

Couldn't sleep worth a hoot last night.
Stayed awake until they switched out my chemo at 2:30am-ish.
When they say 24/7 they really mean it...as best they can.
When I got rushed back down here, for no good reason(?!?) the got me started on the 24/7 regimen again, but because I showed up, at their n"request" on Thurs. pm instead of Monday morning as planned they didn't have my chemo concocted so by the time they did that it was like midnight or later and they finally got me hooked up and IV'd that started the 24/7 and so they come in and change it in the wee hours between vitals checks! So quality sleep is not something that one gets too much of around here.
I finally got awake for good around 9:00 or so and was a grumpy person for a while, but who was I grumpy at?
Me.
Finally coerced myself into a shower and a stroll around the ward...I never made a "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest sojourn, but maybe I could do my best to make this a ward like that!...and I felt better.
Hope I sleep better tonight. I'm better'rn 1/2 way through the 24 Six-Seven-or Eight Ology so that'll keep me company for a few more nights.

I know that there are a couple of you who are reading this who are experiencing a fight with this cancer thing, and I know that I might be a little ahead of you in the Journey, but rest assured that we'll get through this and I hope that my ramblings aren't having a negative effect on your attitude...and this goes too for those of you who are reading this who are my caretakers of the caretakers of someone battling this.
I've never done this cancer thing before, so all I have at present is my present and recent past experience.
I/we are soooooooo fortunate to have the best medical care in the world, although I sometime bitch about "the system".
If it were 10 years ago I'd already probably be in Hospice care, but because of the advances that have been made and are yet to be made I have all the confidence in the world that I'll pull through this and so will you.
Bob, although I haven't talked to you much, thanks for being a survivor and I appreciate the books and I'll get them back to you.
Chuck and Carol,  thanks to you to. The bag has come in handy and I treasure it.
This certainly is a rather large bump in the road and it has been a journey and and adventure and I appreciate all your comments and e-mails.
I believe that attitude is what will get me through this and I wouldn't have the attitude that I hope I have if it weren't for having someone to mirror it back.
Yous guys are mahvelous!

Just in case...

...you read the blog this morning and wondered why it kinda left off in mid thought, it's because 'bout half of it went off into cyberspace as I was fixin' to close lat night 'bout midnight just after they got me hooked up to my 24/7 chemo so I re-finished it this AM a'waitin to be whisked off for a bone marrow biopsy so go back up a Post 'n read, pleeeeeeeze.

While I was briefly home I was asked for the blog link a couple of times.

http://petesnewadventure.blogspot.com/

So, here tis.

Please pass it on to any one who wants to know how I'm doin' and remind/have them Bookmark it or save it to their Favorites.

Some folks click on the link and then delete it after they've read it.

Thanks!

Hi there, coming to you from...

...the 11th floor of the University of Colorado Hospital, Aurora, Colorado!!!

Wellst, I was hoping to make it at least through the weekend where I cold catch up with my friends at RE/MAX Advanced...BTW, Kathy Mahaffey, you fiiiiiinalllllly made the move to the best damn RE/MAX office on the planet! Oh, soooooooo congratulations to you!...who in an undetermined large part give me the strength and the attitude to slug away at this thing called cancer, a.k.a. Multiple Myeloma.
And I'd hoped {There's Hope Here For Us Alcoholics}to get around to a few church basements and catch up with some of my alkie buds that I haven't seen for a while.
Thenst Sunday morning I was hopin' to pop in to the Evangelical Covenant Church and see some of those folks that I didn't see last Sunday/Tuesday when the most tense episode of chemo-brain yet led me there for the 9:00 service...go back a blog or two.

Cuz the plan when I came home Sunday, cast in Play Doh, was that I'd more'n likely be home a week or maybe even a few days longer, I came down Monday for labs and to set procedure for getting labs done in Fort Collins...which entailed Cindy learning how to do flush my port...the tri-fusion, a.k.a. Trifecta. No blood involved but there was some nervousness, a.k.a. shaky hands when she got to flush one of the leads...so that I wouldn't have to drive to Denver every day for something that takes 10 minutes and is "so easy a caveman could do it."
I came down Tuesday for another set of labs and to help determine the one day of the week I could go over to Front Range Cancer Specialists in Fort Collins for Labs, a.k.a. drawing 4 or 5 vials of blood rather than having to come down here.
I came down Wednesday with Doug, who amongst other things is my Dr. Lee interpreter, to meet with Dr. Lee and more labs and developed a "plan" where I would come back down Monday and check into collect  more stem cells and begin the whole rest of the 'process. There was also a conversation about the heart biopsy that was tentatively scheduled and he blew that off saying, "Need to take care of Myeloma 1st, then maybe have to deal with heart.  He also 'splained  that it seems last go-round the only corralled bout 6 million of those critters and they need between 12 and 14 million. he also said, and gave me written instructions to give om Dr. McFarland, my Oncologist in Denver, that I was to go in daily for some Saline and some Chemo.
I can live with that and that'll maybe get Cindy of the "flushing block", too.
So I be gonna come back down next Monday to re-start the process all over again. I left without asking the question of whether or not I had to go through 4 days of 24/7 "Red Bag of Death" (My declaration as when they come in to change he bag they have to suit up in yellow paper haz-mat suits...and their puttin' that stuff in my body?!?!?) and 10 days of Neupogen shots before we did the collection.


Or so I thought...


I came home comfortable that I'd be home 'til Monday cuz we had everything worked out. Had a great nights sleep, got up 'bout 8:30 and Cindy called and wanted to know if I'd checked my e-mails or calls.
I said , "No" and she told me that Dana, one of our UCH contacts told me that I had to come down and get admitted today and they had a room for me on the 11th floor!
Huh?
So I grabbed my cell and checked messages.
The 1st one was, "This is so-and-so from the University of Colorado Hospital and we have you scheduled for an urgent appointment with one of our Cardiologists at 3:00 or 3:30 today."!!!!!!!!!!!!
Doug was also involved in this cluster-mess and I can't remember whether it was Cindy or Doug who told me that Dr. Lee still wanted me to go the the Saline and Chemo at FRCS (Front Range Cancer Specialists).
Well, I've had lots of chemo there and it takes 60-90 minutes.
I putz around the house, pull out a suitcase (Cuz I'm coming down for the duration, probably 6 weeks or so.), do and start some laundry.
Thenst I head over to FRCS. I get there at about 10:30 and was told they had made an appointment for me at either 10:00 or 11:00 but I could wait and they'd try and fit me in! 
Heck-o-fire, nobody told us I had an appointment! Best of my knowledge I was told just to go on over!
Well they did get me min at about 10:40 and while getting me all IV'd I asked how long this would take, expecting 60-90 minutes as Cindy had volunteered to help me pack and I could meet her at the house.
Well when I was told that with this batch of chemo and the amount of saline they needed to give me it would be 4-5 hours!
My jaw and a few other things hit the floor and my mouth hit the fan..."AAAAARGH! This ain't gonna work! I gotta be in Denver @ 3:00 to meet with a Cardiologist and then check in to the hospital!"
My IVist just said, Well that's all going to have to wait, but I'll go talk to Dr. McFarland (F.t Collins Oncologist Oncologist) and maybe he can call down there and see what other arrangements can be done for you.) and left to, I assume, walk down the hall to see Dr. McFarland.
I thenst sit there gettin' IV dripped and my blood pressure rising to catastrophic levels. I prayed, pondered and read a bit and calmed back down.
I can't remember exactly how this came down, whether I called Cindy or for some reason she called me but I told her what was going down and she said she'd go over to the house and pack up what she knew to as she had floor (Sales talk for the person who handles incoming land line phone calls and walk-ins.) from 1:00 to 4:00.
I'm resigning myself to this all being a combination of what my recent lab results have shown, more (which is less) lack of communications and am reading along when Cindy shows up because she wanted to say, "So long, Pawdner." as she knew his adios from home was gonna be a long one.
I appreciated that and we were chatting and the IVist came over (it's 12:45ish by now) and the subject of me not making my 3:00 in Denver came up and she said, (Oh, I haven't talked to Dr. McFarland yt and I haven't called down either.)
I freaked.
Cindy calmed me down and said as she had the number for the Cardiologists office in Denver she'd call. So she walked over and around the corner to where the refrigerator and the out in the open stash of cheddar cheese 'n peanut butter crackers (yuck aw-mighty) are kept and made the call.
She came back and told me that the call had already been made, probably by Doug, the appointment had been cancelled and the Cardiologist would see me after I got here.
Whew.
So the rest of the day went smoothly of sorts, Doug drove me down here, he/we did what needed to be done and now it's now.
I had actually completed this last night at about midnight when they finally got me hooked up to the Red Bag of Death and went to Post it, but when I did about 1/2 of it went off into cyberspace and I wasn't able to retrieve it...and I so hate to re-dos. Do-overs are wonderful, but I hate re-dos.
Twas not with hate that I re-doed this though.
It's given me something pleasurable to do while I wait to be whisked away for a bone marrow biopsy!

and BTW, I ain't seen hide nor Drs. gown of that pesky Cardiologist yet.