Second to Last

Normally the three words “second to last” has a negative connotation ameliorated to a mild mercy by simply not being “last.” Yet there are exceptions to that wretched feeling and that’s when the words are used to describe being near the end of a series of trials. That’s where Dad is after his second to last chemotherapy infusion yesterday.

Make no mistake about it, he’s still miserable and terribly, terribly weak. Side effects from antibiotics have made things even more challenging than before to the point of his discontinuing them two days before the end of the course. I’m not happy with that, but as he slowly gets stronger he gets harder to deal with. It’s ironic that when he’s at his lowest he’s the easiest to deal with when caring for him at home.

Some progress has been made in that he’s gained a couple of pounds despite the side effects, his white and red blood cell counts have improved into acceptable ranges, and he’s more ambulatory now. My father has walked to his appointments at the clinic rather than having to be wheeled everywhere like earlier in the month. After such a steep decline, any regaining of lost ground is most welcome.

Chemo is hitting him harder and faster this time around, however. Last night’s feeding did not go well due to acid reflux and hiccups again. The latter struck the day before he went in after being free of them for a week, so there is an element of emotional stress showing up more and more. Prednisone has been removed from the RCHOP therapy so he’s missing the high he had the days immediately after.

I’m not missing the crazy behavior it caused. So I’ll be taking care of him and skipping church in order to do so this week.

Actually, that would be mandatory due to the shift off of the normal Thursday routine for this make up infusion session. Instead of going in on Saturday to get a Neupogen shot it will be Monday morning bright and early. If I went to church, I’d be unable to drive him the day after thanks to hitting the wall on my stamina this week.

There were far too many appointments, errands, and minor emergencies during this past week. Every day I had to go out and do something in La Crosse or nearby small towns. As soon as I got home today, I dropped like a rock into my bed and it took all my will power to get up again. Such is life.

I’m slightly amused that I spent part of the year getting excited about the new American version of Godzilla coming out. Now that it is out, there is no way for me to see it. This is yet another reason for me to keep working on my personal project of not wanting or desiring anything, since it is such a waste of my time and, more importantly, energy. Our current society devotes far too much emphasis on dreams, wants, desires, lusts, and all the other superficial emotions that afflict humanity.

Not to sound Vulcan, but we’d all be better off without those petty distractors from what is really important. I’m finding I’m at my best emotionally when dealing with reality. That makes me a rebel in today’s Western culture, doesn’t it?

Snort. Thinking of myself as a rebel is even more amusing though that might be a side effect of being so tired. Time to wrap up this post, though I vaguely remember having some “deep thoughts” inspiring me to write that never showed up. If I only had a brain…