Settling in for chemo session #2

8 Replies

“Welcome to Air Infusion Flight #2. Our scheduled departure today is 8:30 a.m. from the Queen’s Cancer Clinic in room 412 of the Kuakina Medical Plaza. If you’ll just take your seat, there’s no need to fasten your seat belt. Just make yourself comfortable. We should reach our destination in only 4-1/2 hours, an hour less than on your first trip because there’s no stop today for immunotherapy.”

My first session of chemotherapy and immunotherapy on June 29 was estimated to last 5-1/2 hours. That sounded like a very long time to sit in a chair finding ways to pass the time until I realized it was about the same length of time it takes to fly from Honolulu to San Francisco. That’s a flight Meda and I took a number of times since the beginning of March while commuting to the University of California San Francisco Cancer Center for diagnosis and initial treatment. There’s a rhythm to a flight like that and, if you can get your mind into it, the time passes quickly.

Framing of my second chemotherapy session this morning as just another flight from here to there avoids having to dwell on that pesky cancer that necessitates this excursion.

I’m carrying a small travel bag with me this morning. It contains a fully-charged iPad with keyboard case, a Kindle e-reader, iPhone, battery and cable in case a device needs recharging, a couple of snacks, a medium-weight sweatshirt and a pair of nice fuzzy socks for warmth, and a travel pillow in case I want to lean back and nap. I’m also carrying my health insurance cards and driver’s license, although I probably won’t need them this morning.

I’m wearing a mask as I make my way to the treatment area, although I’ll probably take it off after that. I’m dressed for the occasion. Long khaki pants, slippers (so that it’s easy to put on those fuzzy socks), and a button-down aloha shirt so that it’s easy for Nurse Patti to reach the IV port implanted high on the right side of my chest. Although the description of its insertion was daunting, it’s a little gizmo that makes the repeated IV treatments tolerable for those who, like myself, have veins that shy away from approaching needles.

The IV feed started at 8:30, and I should be out of here shortly before 1 p.m.

Feline Friday Returns!

8 Replies

Bingo!

The cats cooperated, as did the sun, the camera, and my sense of balance.

And so Feline Friday is here on schedule.

I should explain the pair of photos of Kiko bird watching.

Meda pulls the kitchen window shade in the evening, and in the early morning the rising sun creates a shadow play that mesmerizes Ms. Kiko.

One or two pairs of Java sparrows sit on the edge of the garage roof, casting distinct shadows on the window shade. And Kiko sits with rapt attention, usually riveted in stalking mode, occasionally charging the window in an attempt to reach the prey. Anyway, I included one photo to set the scene, and one of her in the midst of the shadow play.

In any case, enjoy the cats!

Feline Friday: July 10, 2026

This will sound very strange, but….

10 Replies

Ready?

I’m starting to think I’m allergic to cats!

I know it sounds laughable, after living with cats for well over 50 years.

But, no, I haven’t lost my senses due to side effects of chemotherapy.

Here’s the situation.

I get up early, usually a few minutes before or after 5 a.m. At that point, I wander into the kitchen, drink a little water, perhaps snack on some yogurt, then sit at the dining table with MacBook Air in front of me to check news, email, etc.

And my nose is running. Within half and hour or so I have a little mound of used Kleenex on the table next to me that grows through the morning.

I always attributed this to genetics because my mother suffered with postnasal drip and always sat with a box of tissue within reach.

Here’s the thing. When I leave the house, it passes. My head dries up. Tissues stuffed in my pocket go unused.

But there’s a long list of other symptoms associated with pet allergies that I don’t experience. So the jury is out.

And, for the record, this started well before cancer appeared on the scene.

In an attempt to test my allergy hypothesis, I just bought an air purifier capable of processing an area the size of our living room. It was finally unboxed and turned on Wednesday afternoon. I’ll see if it makes any difference. And when I leave the house for medical appointments, I’ll pay attention to whether my nose responds by drying up.

Bonded!

9 Replies

Normally two or three cats follow me to the bedroom each night and may sleep with us, or perhaps rotate in and out of the bed through the night. Two routinely join me for afternoon naps.

They are never far away.

The mainstays are Kinikini, our orange tabby boy, and Kiko, the black-and-white spotted female that was the last to be rescued and join the family.

Well, during the five days I was in Queen’s Hospital, none of the cats went in our bedroom or onto the bed. Zero.

It was a dramatic behavior change.

But when I returned home on Sunday afternoon, about 40 hours ago, Kini and Kiko immediately glued themselves to me! They followed me to the bedroom, took up positions on the bed whenever I was there, waited outside the bathroom to make sure I came out, etc.

They are, it seems imprinted on me, leaving us deeply bonded in a very special way.

Meda would be unhappy about being snubbed, except that the two calicos, Kali and Bessie, clearly favor her.

Here are some photos taken since I retured home Sunday afternoon. It’s now Tuesday morning, a little after 8:30 a.m.

The photos are in chronological order, beginning just a few minutes after I walked into the house.

One picture needs a bit of explanation. It shows large wet spots on my leg as I’m sitting at our dining table. It’s all Kiko drool! She had taken up her position on my lap and enjoyed a long period of petting, during which she purrs loudly and, yes, drools. This is the evidence!

This may end up being a Feline Friday stand-in for the week. We’ll see.

Back from the hospital