Feline Friday is absent but not forgotten

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Circumstances were such that I never had a chance to process my photos this week. It’s usually a job for Thursday, but by then I was in Queen’s and unable to get it done.

I’m adding this token photo just for the record. That’s Bessie earlier this week checking out my laptop while Kali is napping behind her.

Meda reports the cats have changed their behavior in my absence. They are absent from the bed, although normally Kinikini, Kali, and Kiko each spends a good part of the night sleeping with us.

That’s the biggest departure from the norm, I think.

Hopefully I’ll be home and functioning, and the cats will make their appearances next week as scheduled.

From the ER to Limbo

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Late Wednesday afternoon, following my ambulance ride to the main Queen’s ER and a battery of tests, including a x-rays, CT scan and an MRI, I was admitted to the hospital and moved from the Queens emergency room into a “temporary” room, waiting to be admitted to a regular hospital room upstairs.

That move never happened and I spent the first two nights in a slightly uncomfortable hospital bed waiting to hear what would be happening next.

Early Thursday morning— we’re talking really early, before 1 AM— I was awake so that they could draw blood for blood tests. Then spent the next five hours or so in that weird in between state where you’re not really asleep and not really awake.

But this temporary room is pleasant. Has a window I can see trees and sky outside. There was a shared bathroom just down the hall so I can’t really complain.

Friday morning, July 3. A blood draw shortly after midnight, with a second done shortly after dawn. Hospitals are hell on blood tests. Along with IVs getting placed, I feel like a beaten up pin cushion. This second blood test was a prelude to a scheduled 2 PM endoscopy.

It seems I’ve gone full circle. This whole episode started the last day of February when I developed symptoms of jaundice. The cause turned out to be a blockage in a bile duct just outside the liver that was causing bile to back up and cause havoc in my liver.

Our time is San Francisco included another ERCP that successfully placed a stent, allowing bile to pass the obstruction. That one was removed in the subsequent surgery, but a replacement added.

But the MRI showed the latest stent had gone walk about, once again, allowing the bile flow to be obstructed.

But I was surprised that at 9:30 am I was told to pack up my stuff because they were on their way to transport me to the endoscopy department for my procedure.

It turned out to be hurry up and wait I spent about two hours in the pre-op area, getting disclosure from the various professionals involved from the anesthesiologist to the doctor doing the procedure. Signed Awai my life rights, asked to be resuscitated if there was a disaster (I’m just not far enough along the way toward way toward dying two seriously consider the other option).

I was worried as I was being wheeled to the endoscopy operating room just before noon, and saw the sign showing we were going into the intensive care unit! I briefly thought, what have I gotten myself into? But we soon words with another hallway and signs for endoscopy and other specialties started showing up

Long story short, by about 1:10 PM I was in the post-op recovery room. I learned the two new stents had been inserted and were now allowing bile to flow and relieve the pressure on my liver. To tell the truth, I felt better already.

Along the way. We’ve all seen movies where they do the “name, rank, and serial number” routine. Here in the hospital, you are endlessly asked, full name, date of birth. Full name, date of birth over and over and over again

I suppose that’s just to be making sure that the right person gets the right plan procedure. And it also tests whether you are connected enough to reality to know who you are. Other favorite questions that pop up now and then, where are you now? Why are you here? What’s the date? What day is it? Luckily, I could pass those tests without cheating.

I think I got back up to my room by about 3 PM. My first order of business was taking my phone out of my bag of stuff and letting my family and closest know I’m basically OK. And now getting the word out to all of you.

Late update: A bit before 4:30 pm I was moved to a “real” room. Frankly, the temporary room was nicer! So it goes. I’ll just be chilling out for a couple of days while they monitor liver enzyme levels and continue to drip IV antibiotics into me. For tonight, I’m held to a clear liquid diet. Juice, broth, Jello, popsicles. Transitioning back to food tomorrow.

I believe I spoke too soon

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I’m writing this from a hospital bed at Queens. Here’s the tale.

On Tuesday the first day following my initial chemotherapy session, I felt fine. Although the tiredness, I didn’t feel any side effects.

That ended Wednesday when I hit a wall and the floor.

The day started fine. I was up a little before six, ate a banana, drank a glass of Gatorade, then decided to go back to bed. Put an hour later I was hit with chills that lasted a full hour. My temperature taking shortly afterwards was up around 102.

Both those things are red flags, but they got worse. I got up to go to the bathroom, found myself, dizzier than I thought, and fell to the bathroom floor. I wasn’t hurt, just surprised and embarrassed I guess. What’s worse than found? I couldn’t get up off the floor. Meda tried to help me and even working together, I remain on the floor. I’ve tried various things to get up and none worked.

I finally called by oncology team at Queens and was advised to call 911 and go to the Queens ER. The problem is that while these symptoms could have been expected side effects, they could also represent a dangerous infection.

So I spent the afternoon in the Queen’s ER, was admitted to the hospital in the early evening, and will probably be here at least one more night.

It turns out not to be a very auspicious beginning to my chemotherapy regimen.

I have a CT scan yesterday and an MRI very early this morning. There is concern that a stent inserted during my surgery in May has wandered and maybe causing a problem. The MRI is supposed to give enough information for the gastroenterology team to make a determination of what to do next, if anything.

I’m writing this using Siri on my phone so I’ll keep it brief.

I’ve been receiving IV fluids and antibiotics since arriving at the ER.

The day after the first infusion

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Some people have warned me about side effects of chemotherapy and immunotherapy hitting on the first day after treatment. Others say the second full day is worse. It’s now early afternoon on the first day and side effects so far have been nill.

I slept about an hour later than usual this morning, opening my eyes at 5:56 a.m., and I was out of bed and in the kitchen by 6.

The only obvious symptom–I felt a little light-headed. So I started with a glass of water. Ate a ripe banana delivered fresh from Kaaawa yesterday by our friend, George, who started his life in Scotland, but has worked in spots across the world in his adult life and ended up living near the end of the road up the hill above the rest of lowland Kaaawa. He was also the source of the banana plants that now populate the rear left corner of our back yard, and deliver fruit regularly.

After the banana, I moved to a serving of Kashi cereal, added some raisins from a newly-opened bag, and milk.

Then I sat down at the dining table in front of my laptop with cereal and coffee, and began the process of checking text messages and email, deleting most, and skimming through the rest. Messages from actual people gets priority, of course. Few and far between.

Then I tried a packet of a flavored hydrating powder that you dissolve in a glass of water or other liquid. I drank it, but ranked it lower on taste and texture than powdered MiraLAX, which is designed to get bowels working regularly. I’ve relied on it several times since my surgery back in May. I will give Liquid IV another chance, but right now it’s playing catchup to a laxative. At least that’s my humble opinion.

After this the day got a little more complicated. Our regular house cleaner, Ricardo Lacayo, is scheduled to arrive at 9:30. So before then I needed to move the cat paraphernalia into the front bedroom, and leaving our master bedroom and bath free to clean today. We’ll switch on his next visit in a couple of weeks, with cats in our bedroom, cleaning in front. And rounding up the cats is always exciting, and not something to leave until the very last minute.

Meda and I usually set up folding chairs and tables in the garage, creating two workspaces for our computers or iPads, phones, and space for a drink while Ricardo is here. But today I’ve decided to stay in the room with the cats, which was fine.

It’s just a bit after 1:30. Ricardo left an hour ago. I’m ready for a nap, but a friend is bringing a couple of bags of poi within the next hour, so I will defer the nap until her delivery arrives.

No new symptoms. I’ll note in a comment if anything nasty shows up.