EATS!!!!
YAY!!!!now, it just needs to stay with him. Fingers crossed.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
day 3 in Moffitt . . .
his taste buds seem to be awakening. that is wonderful news. and they started him back on a liquid diet. he had been NPO since we got here monday to let his system rest. NPO is doctor speak for: no food or drink for you 9TS. he is back to harassing the nurses so I can tell he is definitely feeling better. they have him loaded up with all kinds of fluids and antibiotics but he did mention a doughnut and i saw the light in his eyes. he is on his way to recovery.
stay tuned for my updates after the seagulls get here. (one of the techs refers to the group of doctors/interns/students as a flock of seagulls because they come in flapping their long white doctor coats. I love the image.)
stay tuned for my updates after the seagulls get here. (one of the techs refers to the group of doctors/interns/students as a flock of seagulls because they come in flapping their long white doctor coats. I love the image.)
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
it's how I cope . . .
As you have probably figured out, this post is brought to you from Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa, Florida. Great place. Cutting edge. Wonderful doctors. Efficient and kind nursing staff . . . but this place SUCKS!!!!
Big time. So there! I mean seriously, when in your lifetime have you ever wished to be in a cancer hospital?? No, I didn't think so. Me either. Or the 9TS.
Because it is a specialized facility, there is no emergency room. It's not like you had an accident in the kitchen with your new Cutco knives and can't stanch the flow of redness . . . not that I would know that first hand or anything . . . anyway, the first place you go isn't Moffitt. Or if you happen to have a fender bender with the side of your own garage . . . again, I am not pointing fingers . . . you wouldn't run to Moffitt.
My point being, when you are told to high tail it over to Tampa for evaluation, they really have no place to stick you except DRC which is their mini version of an ER. Very mini. As in Alice took the tiny pill and then got ill and ended up in the ER. That small.
Here is the 9TS relaxing while on vacay in DRC:
If you look closely, you can see that he has plans for Christmas. He is growing a Santa beard and doing a damned fine job of it. Kidlet told him he could go Dumbledore style and tuck it into his pants. I'm leaning toward ZZ Top. It's a generational thing. Whichever way he chooses, he'll be rocking Christmas Day.
Sometime after midnight, they finally admitted him and stuffed him up on the 3rd floor. He is snoozing again. It is what he does best these days.
If you're wondering why I am taking pictures of the poor sloth while he is down and out, I do it because it's how I cope. It's better than collecting balls of cat hair to knit into a sweater . . . better than saving fingernail clippings for an art project . . . better than collecting wishbones for twenty years. Thank.you.very.much.
p.s. Waving like crazy to our Jen at Carrabba's!!!!!!!!!!!! Love you!!!
Big time. So there! I mean seriously, when in your lifetime have you ever wished to be in a cancer hospital?? No, I didn't think so. Me either. Or the 9TS.
Because it is a specialized facility, there is no emergency room. It's not like you had an accident in the kitchen with your new Cutco knives and can't stanch the flow of redness . . . not that I would know that first hand or anything . . . anyway, the first place you go isn't Moffitt. Or if you happen to have a fender bender with the side of your own garage . . . again, I am not pointing fingers . . . you wouldn't run to Moffitt.
My point being, when you are told to high tail it over to Tampa for evaluation, they really have no place to stick you except DRC which is their mini version of an ER. Very mini. As in Alice took the tiny pill and then got ill and ended up in the ER. That small.
Here is the 9TS relaxing while on vacay in DRC:
Sometime after midnight, they finally admitted him and stuffed him up on the 3rd floor. He is snoozing again. It is what he does best these days.
p.s. Waving like crazy to our Jen at Carrabba's!!!!!!!!!!!! Love you!!!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday: 4.24
Sunday: 4.24
Yep, we walked the exact same route. One of these times, I am going to remember some pocket change so we can stop at Panera's for a break. I think that really was, what someone had in mind when they said 'calories out, calories in' . . . ever tasted one of their pumpkin muffins. Slurp!
On my loop, there have been several threads about interior decorating. I keep wondering if they would think it odd that my living room has a giraffe, snow shoes, antique ice skates, a rifle, a red scooter . . . the first toy my father ever bought himself . . . an old fire extinguisher and several pigs. The dining room is not much better. It has an elephant and a wall hanging my grandmother made in 1937.
The way I look at it, I can either be surrounded by politically correct Florida beach stuff or odds and ends that mean something to me. I'll opt for the O/E every time. So, yes, my barrister bookcase is stuffed with shots of my dad in high school circa 1930, an old Lionel engine, a slew of vintage G.A. Henty books, a slightly chewed upon teddy bear that belonged to my uncle, and a first edition of Tarzan and the Leopard Men, compliments of my grandfather. Coolio!
Don't look at me like that, what's in your living room???
Sunday: 4.24
Yep, we walked the exact same route. One of these times, I am going to remember some pocket change so we can stop at Panera's for a break. I think that really was, what someone had in mind when they said 'calories out, calories in' . . . ever tasted one of their pumpkin muffins. Slurp!
On my loop, there have been several threads about interior decorating. I keep wondering if they would think it odd that my living room has a giraffe, snow shoes, antique ice skates, a rifle, a red scooter . . . the first toy my father ever bought himself . . . an old fire extinguisher and several pigs. The dining room is not much better. It has an elephant and a wall hanging my grandmother made in 1937.
The way I look at it, I can either be surrounded by politically correct Florida beach stuff or odds and ends that mean something to me. I'll opt for the O/E every time. So, yes, my barrister bookcase is stuffed with shots of my dad in high school circa 1930, an old Lionel engine, a slew of vintage G.A. Henty books, a slightly chewed upon teddy bear that belonged to my uncle, and a first edition of Tarzan and the Leopard Men, compliments of my grandfather. Coolio!
Don't look at me like that, what's in your living room???
Friday, August 26, 2011
archipelagos and starfish, oh my . . .
Today was supposed to be yoga day but there was a sign on the door when we arrived that said the class was cancelled do to the hurricane. Huh!?!!? Yes, we have cloudy skies, yes we have gotten some rain from the feeder bands . . . but hurricane?!?!? The decision maker is obviously not a Floridian.
So instead, we called Nancy and asked if eating a bit earlier worked for her schedule and set off on a miniature shopping expedition before we descended upon La's. The first shop we tried to hit always seems to be closed but Joanie had an alternative on hand . . . a nifty little shop called Elements of Design. Every table had goodies artfully displayed. Going was slow in order not to miss a thing. I came away with a couple of gizmo's for the bathroom. Everyone needs gizmos. Mine turned out to be a sweet citrus smelling diffuser:
and a painted cast iron starfish:
Oh, and have I mentioned my new fascination with the Hipstamatic app for my iPhone? Love, Love, Love it as evidenced above.
The prednisone seems to be helping the 9TS. We even managed a little drive around in the gray goose. I'll take every little tiny bit of improvement I can grab.
So instead, we called Nancy and asked if eating a bit earlier worked for her schedule and set off on a miniature shopping expedition before we descended upon La's. The first shop we tried to hit always seems to be closed but Joanie had an alternative on hand . . . a nifty little shop called Elements of Design. Every table had goodies artfully displayed. Going was slow in order not to miss a thing. I came away with a couple of gizmo's for the bathroom. Everyone needs gizmos. Mine turned out to be a sweet citrus smelling diffuser:
Oh, and have I mentioned my new fascination with the Hipstamatic app for my iPhone? Love, Love, Love it as evidenced above.
The prednisone seems to be helping the 9TS. We even managed a little drive around in the gray goose. I'll take every little tiny bit of improvement I can grab.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
snag 7383 . . .
Even with the pre-authorization, the script came to $724.13 for a month's supply. EEK! Back to square one. Dr. K. faxed in a script for prednisone and we will pick it up this afternoon. I'm getting a whole new education here!!!!
3.25
3.25
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
snag 7382 . . .
Moffitt called in the meds. It seems without prior authorization, the magic potion will run $1800.00 but with prior authorization it should come somewhere near his normal co-pay of $7. For the difference, all I can say is, "How high should I jump."
the slugs coming marching two by two . . .
Tuesday: o.oo
Lest you think I'm becoming a slug, our regular yoga instructor is back from her usual summer hiatus and we were om-ing our hearts out for 90 minutes. Nothing feels quite as good as leaving class rather boneless and well stretched. I could have slept during final relaxation but I waited until I got home and took a three hour nap. Priceless.
Wednesday: o.oo
OK, I am playing slug today. It's so lovely not to crawl out of bed at 7:00 a.m., pull on my runners and pound the pavement in this boggy miasma of deep south summer. I know I really should have, especially since Irene, although blessedly moving east, will still, no doubt, dump torrents of water our way, losing us several days of morning walking . . . I am slug, hear me roar!!
Actually, I am beginning to worry about my slugdom status these days. It has hit a new high or is that low? Paper work is piled high on my desk, dust bunnies are once again taking over the house, scampering under beds, chairs and the refrigerator. Ironing overflows on the ironing board which by now, has become a permanent fixture in the loft. Sigh. My iMac has been in residence for almost two months and I have yet to move the last of the data from my old Dell. The cats look fearful as dinner time approaches. Will she or won't she. Rest assured little beasties, it's a definite yes, though I seem to be stuck in neutral. While it has been suggested that it merely a side effect of dealing with our current situation regarding the 9TS, it makes me wonder if I can sink much lower.
And speaking of the 9TS, last night was a rough one. Whatever is going on in his lower regions hit epic proportions and we vacillated . . . should we or should we not hit the ER. Finally things calmed enough that the 9TS reached some modicum of comfort and we remained cave bound. He is definitely sleeping in this morning. Whooped and exhausted.
Lest you think I'm becoming a slug, our regular yoga instructor is back from her usual summer hiatus and we were om-ing our hearts out for 90 minutes. Nothing feels quite as good as leaving class rather boneless and well stretched. I could have slept during final relaxation but I waited until I got home and took a three hour nap. Priceless.
Wednesday: o.oo
OK, I am playing slug today. It's so lovely not to crawl out of bed at 7:00 a.m., pull on my runners and pound the pavement in this boggy miasma of deep south summer. I know I really should have, especially since Irene, although blessedly moving east, will still, no doubt, dump torrents of water our way, losing us several days of morning walking . . . I am slug, hear me roar!!
Actually, I am beginning to worry about my slugdom status these days. It has hit a new high or is that low? Paper work is piled high on my desk, dust bunnies are once again taking over the house, scampering under beds, chairs and the refrigerator. Ironing overflows on the ironing board which by now, has become a permanent fixture in the loft. Sigh. My iMac has been in residence for almost two months and I have yet to move the last of the data from my old Dell. The cats look fearful as dinner time approaches. Will she or won't she. Rest assured little beasties, it's a definite yes, though I seem to be stuck in neutral. While it has been suggested that it merely a side effect of dealing with our current situation regarding the 9TS, it makes me wonder if I can sink much lower.
And speaking of the 9TS, last night was a rough one. Whatever is going on in his lower regions hit epic proportions and we vacillated . . . should we or should we not hit the ER. Finally things calmed enough that the 9TS reached some modicum of comfort and we remained cave bound. He is definitely sleeping in this morning. Whooped and exhausted.
Monday, August 22, 2011
soup to nuts . . .
Saturday 2.97
Sunday 4.39
Monday 2.33
Today's walk, being rather meager since we busted out Sunday and because we were looking forward to an off day lunch at La's . . . and no, there is absolutely no segue between those two thoughts . . . and since we had just eaten there on Friday and will again next Friday, I decided . . . gasp . . . to order something other than my standard Turkey Caprese Sammie, which I so dearly love. Today was Bistro Quesadilla day. Another yummo, but still and all, not Caprese. Sigh.
I think I forgot to share this little treat with you from last Friday . . . a cold berry soup:
This was so yummy and delicious that I thought perhaps it might be one of the few appealing things the 9TS finds palatable and brought him home a doggie bucket. Not so.
And thus, speaking of my dear sloth, he is pretty much resigned to Boost, Ensure, watermelon, peaches and cantaloupe for the foreseeable future. This is pretty hard on my little Italian 'Re', who would rather be feasting on pasta seven days a week. I even made a cold tuna salad that he favors in hopes of appeasing his taste buds but fell flat once again.
Have you seen the weather report? Have you shared it with Irene? Have you told her to move East. Please do. I am not amused.
Sunday 4.39
Monday 2.33
Today's walk, being rather meager since we busted out Sunday and because we were looking forward to an off day lunch at La's . . . and no, there is absolutely no segue between those two thoughts . . . and since we had just eaten there on Friday and will again next Friday, I decided . . . gasp . . . to order something other than my standard Turkey Caprese Sammie, which I so dearly love. Today was Bistro Quesadilla day. Another yummo, but still and all, not Caprese. Sigh.
I think I forgot to share this little treat with you from last Friday . . . a cold berry soup:
And thus, speaking of my dear sloth, he is pretty much resigned to Boost, Ensure, watermelon, peaches and cantaloupe for the foreseeable future. This is pretty hard on my little Italian 'Re', who would rather be feasting on pasta seven days a week. I even made a cold tuna salad that he favors in hopes of appeasing his taste buds but fell flat once again.
Have you seen the weather report? Have you shared it with Irene? Have you told her to move East. Please do. I am not amused.
Friday, August 19, 2011
it's how I roll . . .
Let's talk about yoga. In the woods. Overnight. Camping. Vegan food. A weekend get-a-way.
Now, let's talk about Florida, mosquitoes, the very damp island and moldy sleeping bags.
Let's talk about me and my version of creature comforts. Do you see this unfolding?
At yoga today, our instructor . . . this is our summer instructor not to be confused with our winter instructor . . . . they are two very distinct animals . . . night and day . . . . made mention of an upcoming yoga retreat on Hontoon Island this October. She mentioned morning yoga, followed by a good vegan breakfast, more yoga, a vegan lunch, an afternoon of bonding, a night yoga class preceded by what else, but a vegan dinner.
Now I am not picking on vegans. Especially considering how very little beef I eat. I'm mostly made up of veggies, cheese, and chicken with a little fish thrown in. Before I married my first husband who nightly swung through the jungle, beating his chest, bellowing, "Me want meat and po-tate-toes for dinner" . . . . along with 1/2 gallon of vodka . . . OK, I added the shtick about the booze, but still it is true . . . I was a vegetarian . . . but not a vegan. I do like eggs and the animals from whence they come. And, you know me and goat cheese. We shall never be parted. But I could deal.
What creeps me out, is the idea of jumbo jet liner size mosquitoes launching from the swamp in flotillas, all eyes on a very non-vegan meal. Me! No. No. No. Or pulling out my old musty sleeping bag that was never intended for hardcore use, although I did wake up one morning with a trail of slugs crisscrossing the bag . . . all in the name of being first in line to a woodsy concert . . . but that was back in 1972. Again, I'm yelling. NO. NO. NO. Not I.
And much as I love yoga and I do, three times a day seems a little excessive for this ancient old body, especially as visions of my Tempur-Pedic topped bed, crisp cotton sheets, and goose down pillows, swirl through my head. And don't get me started on port-a-potties and half moons cut in the doors of ancient wooden buildings. There is no way, I am stumbling down a path, through the fire ants, dodging horse flies to squat in an outhouse with rolls of damp toilet paper ever again. NO NO a thousand times NO!
So as Joanie and I sat at La's today, munching contentedly on non-vegan approved cuisine, we discussed the possibilities. And yes, it was a resounding no. We thought much better of an evening on a lovely screened porch, clinking glasses and toasting the attributes of friendship, food and the folly of those stuck on swamp island.
Now, let's talk about Florida, mosquitoes, the very damp island and moldy sleeping bags.
Let's talk about me and my version of creature comforts. Do you see this unfolding?
At yoga today, our instructor . . . this is our summer instructor not to be confused with our winter instructor . . . . they are two very distinct animals . . . night and day . . . . made mention of an upcoming yoga retreat on Hontoon Island this October. She mentioned morning yoga, followed by a good vegan breakfast, more yoga, a vegan lunch, an afternoon of bonding, a night yoga class preceded by what else, but a vegan dinner.
Now I am not picking on vegans. Especially considering how very little beef I eat. I'm mostly made up of veggies, cheese, and chicken with a little fish thrown in. Before I married my first husband who nightly swung through the jungle, beating his chest, bellowing, "Me want meat and po-tate-toes for dinner" . . . . along with 1/2 gallon of vodka . . . OK, I added the shtick about the booze, but still it is true . . . I was a vegetarian . . . but not a vegan. I do like eggs and the animals from whence they come. And, you know me and goat cheese. We shall never be parted. But I could deal.
What creeps me out, is the idea of jumbo jet liner size mosquitoes launching from the swamp in flotillas, all eyes on a very non-vegan meal. Me! No. No. No. Or pulling out my old musty sleeping bag that was never intended for hardcore use, although I did wake up one morning with a trail of slugs crisscrossing the bag . . . all in the name of being first in line to a woodsy concert . . . but that was back in 1972. Again, I'm yelling. NO. NO. NO. Not I.
And much as I love yoga and I do, three times a day seems a little excessive for this ancient old body, especially as visions of my Tempur-Pedic topped bed, crisp cotton sheets, and goose down pillows, swirl through my head. And don't get me started on port-a-potties and half moons cut in the doors of ancient wooden buildings. There is no way, I am stumbling down a path, through the fire ants, dodging horse flies to squat in an outhouse with rolls of damp toilet paper ever again. NO NO a thousand times NO!
So as Joanie and I sat at La's today, munching contentedly on non-vegan approved cuisine, we discussed the possibilities. And yes, it was a resounding no. We thought much better of an evening on a lovely screened porch, clinking glasses and toasting the attributes of friendship, food and the folly of those stuck on swamp island.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
and so it goes . . .
Sunday: 2.86
Monday: 2.94
Tuesday: 3.51
Wednesday: 0.00 The 9TS had a doctor's appointment at 8:50 and so I took the day off!!!!
Thursday: 0.00 Instead, we got up at 4:00 a.m. and shuffled back to Moffitt in hopes of getting the 9TS his fourth and final Yervoy infusion. And so we did. But somehow, they scheduled a four hour break between his cutaneous appointment and his infusion and we were told when we arrived at the chemo clinic that we were too early. You are the people who booked our 7:30 a.m. blood draw. No? But a really, and I mean, really, nice soul sent us to central booking and told us to ask if there was anything earlier and there WAS!!! I told the keeper of THE book, that I could just hug her and she replied, "Good, I need a hug today." and so we did. What a lovely hug!!!!
On the way home, we had rutabaga problems and stopped at every rest stop in sight. And a couple that weren't. But just the way the 9TS's luck goes, the first exit we chose led to a toll road with nary a facility in sight. I decided to pull the C card and it worked. The nice man at the toll booth, told me to do an illegal u-turn, for which I could get a ticket but he was pretty sure the coast was clear . . . pay the second toll on the other side and then swing into their private facilities. YAY!!!!
We only stopped a bajillion more times on the way home but you know rutabagas, they have a mind of their own.
Did I mention the infusions are OVER????? They are!!!! Finito!!!
We have an appointment in mid September for a CT scan and a meeting with Dr. K the following week. Keep your fingers crossed please. That's when we learn if this has all been worth it.
Monday: 2.94
Tuesday: 3.51
Wednesday: 0.00 The 9TS had a doctor's appointment at 8:50 and so I took the day off!!!!
Thursday: 0.00 Instead, we got up at 4:00 a.m. and shuffled back to Moffitt in hopes of getting the 9TS his fourth and final Yervoy infusion. And so we did. But somehow, they scheduled a four hour break between his cutaneous appointment and his infusion and we were told when we arrived at the chemo clinic that we were too early. You are the people who booked our 7:30 a.m. blood draw. No? But a really, and I mean, really, nice soul sent us to central booking and told us to ask if there was anything earlier and there WAS!!! I told the keeper of THE book, that I could just hug her and she replied, "Good, I need a hug today." and so we did. What a lovely hug!!!!
On the way home, we had rutabaga problems and stopped at every rest stop in sight. And a couple that weren't. But just the way the 9TS's luck goes, the first exit we chose led to a toll road with nary a facility in sight. I decided to pull the C card and it worked. The nice man at the toll booth, told me to do an illegal u-turn, for which I could get a ticket but he was pretty sure the coast was clear . . . pay the second toll on the other side and then swing into their private facilities. YAY!!!!
We only stopped a bajillion more times on the way home but you know rutabagas, they have a mind of their own.
Did I mention the infusions are OVER????? They are!!!! Finito!!!
We have an appointment in mid September for a CT scan and a meeting with Dr. K the following week. Keep your fingers crossed please. That's when we learn if this has all been worth it.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Nevin's Dairy and other goodies . . .
finding food the 9TS can eat is a chore. His mouth is minus, excuse me . . . saliva. It went for a walk somewhere between Yervoy 2 and 3, and forgot to come home. So now he has dry mouth plus tongue sores . . . sorry. I guess I should have posted a warning, but the truth is, if you have been following my blog for any length of time, you really should have expected this earlier. I certainly did.
And, like a fatted calf, we bulked him up 30 pounds before starting chemo. Good thing too . . . he's already lost 18+ pounds. Lately, all he can tolerate is cold slippery food. Think watermelon, cantaloupe, soft boiled eggs.
But after his last incarceration at Moffitt, they gave him a script for Magic Mouth. It's a wonder drug. Part numbing agent, part refreshant . . . which apparently is not a dictionary sanctioned word but darn well should be . . . and part healant, another word Webster should have acknowledged. It works!!!!
Tonight we braved new territory and tried eggs over easy, corned beef hash and whole wheat bread. The eggs were good. The corned beef alas wasn't. Instead of whole wheat, next time, we are going to try Wonder Bread; that is if it is still being made. It is a throw back to both of our childhoods. Mine was richly slathered with peanut butter and Welch's grape jelly, the sloth's, with more ethnic stuffing. Wonder Bread builds strong bodies 12 ways, according to the slogan which is ingrained in the brains of those of us of a certain age. Today I fear it is either obsolete or so politically incorrect that most stores stay clear. Tomorrow I am going on the hunt.
Of course talk of Wonder Bread somehow segued to dairy delivery and while the 9TS's milk was delivered to the door by Abbot's, ours came from Nevin's Dairy. If we were really lucky, we could hitch a ride on the truck half way around the lake and hoof it home again. Grand fun when you are eight or so. And the winter . . . what a splendid day when we were allowed to hook our mittened hands under the back bumper of the milk truck, tip our toes back, heels down and 'ski' down the road. Life just couldn't get any better.
Of course like almost anything, there was a downside to home delivery. If you weren't home in the summer shortly after Ned's arrival, the cream already sitting on top, coagulated in the heat and pushed the cardboard lid up and out of the bottle in a preformed spew of rancid milk. Not something anyone looked forward to but none the less, a fact of life.
I don't remember when home delivery stopped. I'm thinking I was in college, but I'm fond of the memories and it makes much better dinner conversation than Mel and his cousin Anoma.
4.22
And, like a fatted calf, we bulked him up 30 pounds before starting chemo. Good thing too . . . he's already lost 18+ pounds. Lately, all he can tolerate is cold slippery food. Think watermelon, cantaloupe, soft boiled eggs.
But after his last incarceration at Moffitt, they gave him a script for Magic Mouth. It's a wonder drug. Part numbing agent, part refreshant . . . which apparently is not a dictionary sanctioned word but darn well should be . . . and part healant, another word Webster should have acknowledged. It works!!!!
Tonight we braved new territory and tried eggs over easy, corned beef hash and whole wheat bread. The eggs were good. The corned beef alas wasn't. Instead of whole wheat, next time, we are going to try Wonder Bread; that is if it is still being made. It is a throw back to both of our childhoods. Mine was richly slathered with peanut butter and Welch's grape jelly, the sloth's, with more ethnic stuffing. Wonder Bread builds strong bodies 12 ways, according to the slogan which is ingrained in the brains of those of us of a certain age. Today I fear it is either obsolete or so politically incorrect that most stores stay clear. Tomorrow I am going on the hunt.
Of course talk of Wonder Bread somehow segued to dairy delivery and while the 9TS's milk was delivered to the door by Abbot's, ours came from Nevin's Dairy. If we were really lucky, we could hitch a ride on the truck half way around the lake and hoof it home again. Grand fun when you are eight or so. And the winter . . . what a splendid day when we were allowed to hook our mittened hands under the back bumper of the milk truck, tip our toes back, heels down and 'ski' down the road. Life just couldn't get any better.
Of course like almost anything, there was a downside to home delivery. If you weren't home in the summer shortly after Ned's arrival, the cream already sitting on top, coagulated in the heat and pushed the cardboard lid up and out of the bottle in a preformed spew of rancid milk. Not something anyone looked forward to but none the less, a fact of life.
I don't remember when home delivery stopped. I'm thinking I was in college, but I'm fond of the memories and it makes much better dinner conversation than Mel and his cousin Anoma.
4.22
Saturday, August 13, 2011
pledge . . .
"My promise to my children: I am not your friend, I am your parent. I'll stalk you, flip out on you, lecture you, drive you insane, be your worst nightmare, and hunt you down like a bloodhound when needed because I LOVE YOU! When you understand that, I'll know you are a responsible adult. You'll NEVER find someone who loves, prays, cares, and worries about you more than I do!"
3.51
Friday, August 12, 2011
the 9TS's newest adventure . . .
Thursday the 9TS, Kidlet and I headed on a day trip to Tampa for the last of the four Yervoy infusions or so we thought. They took one look at the very ragged sloth and admitted him. After eight hours of waiting for a bed, they got him situated only to whisk him off to radiology late at night to see if his brain was still where it was supposed to be.
It was, but it was doing stellar tricks. It wouldn't let the 9TS remember pass codes we'd used for years. It made him set the microwave for 1 hour and 49 minutes when it should have been 1 minute and 49 seconds . . . let me tell you, those heatable neck wraps made from natural grain reek like burned popcorn. I expected to see it fly around the room like an un-knotted helium balloon. Kaboom! Pop! He swore he saw our beasties. Let me assure you, all three were safely at home being spoiled rotten by Joanie.
And then they yanked him off his morphine. At 8:00 a.m. I sauntered into his room to find him one very unhappy sloth. In pain, exhausted, unfed, and miserable. The MRI turned out clear, no cancer there. YAY. I was determined his dosages were way too high. He has four new scripts and we are going to try for his last Yervoy again next week.
On the lighter side, Kidlet and I bedded down at a local establishment for weary travelers, unburdened their front desk of two tooth brushes, a razor, deodorant, shaving cream and the like. Kidlet had even had the foresight to bring her backpack that just happened to have an extra T and her meds. I on the other hand, had to call, like a lunatic, to my doctors back home to have my anti-crazy meds called in to a pharmacy near Moffitt. When I went to pick them up, I realized why they called this the crack district. They were issuing two soles out the door . . . who were apparently trying to purchase . . . under their shirt tails . . . more than their allotted amount of Sudafed, while another happy sole was jonesing in the parking lot and checking out everyone's purchases. After a quick get-a-way, I found an old gym T of the 9TS's in the trunk and off we trundled to bed. Who needs eye makeup and clean undies when you have your anti-crazy Meds!?!?!?
We are home now, a lot stressed. A lot tired. Mostly grumpy but nevertheless . . . HOME!!!
Thanks again, Joanie for holding down the fort. XOXOXO
It was, but it was doing stellar tricks. It wouldn't let the 9TS remember pass codes we'd used for years. It made him set the microwave for 1 hour and 49 minutes when it should have been 1 minute and 49 seconds . . . let me tell you, those heatable neck wraps made from natural grain reek like burned popcorn. I expected to see it fly around the room like an un-knotted helium balloon. Kaboom! Pop! He swore he saw our beasties. Let me assure you, all three were safely at home being spoiled rotten by Joanie.
And then they yanked him off his morphine. At 8:00 a.m. I sauntered into his room to find him one very unhappy sloth. In pain, exhausted, unfed, and miserable. The MRI turned out clear, no cancer there. YAY. I was determined his dosages were way too high. He has four new scripts and we are going to try for his last Yervoy again next week.
On the lighter side, Kidlet and I bedded down at a local establishment for weary travelers, unburdened their front desk of two tooth brushes, a razor, deodorant, shaving cream and the like. Kidlet had even had the foresight to bring her backpack that just happened to have an extra T and her meds. I on the other hand, had to call, like a lunatic, to my doctors back home to have my anti-crazy meds called in to a pharmacy near Moffitt. When I went to pick them up, I realized why they called this the crack district. They were issuing two soles out the door . . . who were apparently trying to purchase . . . under their shirt tails . . . more than their allotted amount of Sudafed, while another happy sole was jonesing in the parking lot and checking out everyone's purchases. After a quick get-a-way, I found an old gym T of the 9TS's in the trunk and off we trundled to bed. Who needs eye makeup and clean undies when you have your anti-crazy Meds!?!?!?
We are home now, a lot stressed. A lot tired. Mostly grumpy but nevertheless . . . HOME!!!
Thanks again, Joanie for holding down the fort. XOXOXO
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
catching up . . .
Monday, Monday:
2.07 too too hot!
Kidlet and I went to get our eyes checked today. Baby cataracts. Boo Hiss!!! Me, obviously not Kidlet. When did I get this old?
Tuesday:
3.46 at least we could breathe.
My friend Sue just sent me the most amazing blog link. I'm having goat cheese stuffed tomatoes for lunch and I think I will be making the zucchini boats this week. Yummo, slurp!!!! I have to sign off now and drool some more as I sift through that blog.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
wheelies . . .
4.47 in the sauna. No breeze. Cannot wait for fall.
We went on a quick foray to Walmart this afternoon. I slapped the 9TS into a wheelchair and off we tooled. Up one aisle and down the next. His 'machine' had a Wally World basket attached to the front and let me tell you, that sucker was BIG. I'm not proud to say I wiped out more than a few WW customers, but word spread quickly and we were given a wide berth by all. So what did I do, why naturally I picked up speed. Wheeeee!! We slid around corners, dodged displays, ricocheted off stanchions. It was great fun until the 9TS rained on my parade and told me to behave myself. Sigh.
He's eating and drinking better. It's a good day in and out of the cave!!!
We went on a quick foray to Walmart this afternoon. I slapped the 9TS into a wheelchair and off we tooled. Up one aisle and down the next. His 'machine' had a Wally World basket attached to the front and let me tell you, that sucker was BIG. I'm not proud to say I wiped out more than a few WW customers, but word spread quickly and we were given a wide berth by all. So what did I do, why naturally I picked up speed. Wheeeee!! We slid around corners, dodged displays, ricocheted off stanchions. It was great fun until the 9TS rained on my parade and told me to behave myself. Sigh.
He's eating and drinking better. It's a good day in and out of the cave!!!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
short and sweet . . .
4.12 we went out looking for garage sales. Nada. They are too smart to have garage sales in all this heat and humidity. Not us. Drip. Drip. Splat.
The 9TS had a rough night, last night and that is all I am going to say. Well, that and DAMN it!!
I'm running to the used bookstore this morning. I need to swap out some books so I have something to read while paddling around in the water.
and I will leave you with one of my favorite goodies for one of my favorite restaurants:
The 9TS had a rough night, last night and that is all I am going to say. Well, that and DAMN it!!
I'm running to the used bookstore this morning. I need to swap out some books so I have something to read while paddling around in the water.
and I will leave you with one of my favorite goodies for one of my favorite restaurants:
Flagler Fish Company Asiago Potatoes
12 red bliss potatoes
½ cup olive oil
12 roasted garlic cloves
10 large fresh basil leaves
8 ounces fresh Asiago cheese, grated
1 cup mayonnaise
Flagler Fish Company House seasoning. (salt & pepper may be substituted).
paprika
Boil red bliss potatoes and cool in the refrigerator. Once they are cooled, use a melon baller or teaspoon to scoop out a hole.
While potatoes are cooling, bring ½ cup of olive oil to a boil and place roasted garlic cloves in oil for 6 to 8 minutes or until soft. Put roasted garlic cloves and basil leaves in your food processor and make a paste. Place garlic mixture in a medium bowl and add the shredded Asiago cheese, mayonnaise and Flagler Fish Company house seasoning to taste. Blend with a spoon until evenly mixed.
Stuff the cooled potatoes with the cheese mixture and top with a sprinkle of paprika. Bake at 350 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes.
Friday, August 5, 2011
dear sloth . . .
next time you decide you want to go out for dinner, please make sure it is because you want to and not because you think I want to . . .
And so we headed to Carrabba's. The 9TS's heart was in the right place but his body was unwilling. His taste buds are toast. He is drugged. He is exhausted. It was a disaster. But on the bright side, he has clams over linguini for when he feels a little better. It was all just too overwhelming. And bless the hearts of the Carrabba's crew: Jen, Kim, Jessica, Hope, Matt . . . they all came to cheer him on. Sigh.
Tomorrow will be better. Yes, it will!!!!
And so we headed to Carrabba's. The 9TS's heart was in the right place but his body was unwilling. His taste buds are toast. He is drugged. He is exhausted. It was a disaster. But on the bright side, he has clams over linguini for when he feels a little better. It was all just too overwhelming. And bless the hearts of the Carrabba's crew: Jen, Kim, Jessica, Hope, Matt . . . they all came to cheer him on. Sigh.
Tomorrow will be better. Yes, it will!!!!
Thursday, August 4, 2011
home . . .
they let him go last night and home we came. Thankfully we were late enough that we missed the rush hour traffic through Orlando. YAY.
He is still in pain but the morphine is doing a much better job than the Oxycodone and Oxycontin. No one knows where it is coming from. Sigh.
One more infusion and then let the healing begin.
Tomorrow I am running away to yoga and lunch with the girls. It saves my sanity and makes me much better adapted to keeping up with the 9TS. Yes, it does.
Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts. They are greatly appreciated.
He is still in pain but the morphine is doing a much better job than the Oxycodone and Oxycontin. No one knows where it is coming from. Sigh.
One more infusion and then let the healing begin.
Tomorrow I am running away to yoga and lunch with the girls. It saves my sanity and makes me much better adapted to keeping up with the 9TS. Yes, it does.
Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts. They are greatly appreciated.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
green veggies . . .
still here but hoping to be released today. Fingers crossed. His pain is under control and his asparagus is moving. Asparagus you ask??? He called me last night just before I turned off the lights and was whispering. I couldn't hear a word he was saying and he's in a private room. Finally, I blurted out, "WHAT?!?!?!?" He upped his voice a schooch. I still haven't pooped. OK, no problem, they are working on it. It's OK to say poop! But the 9TS was uncomfortable so I gave him a password. The point being, his asparagus moved a bunch last night so hopefully we can go home. And oh yeah, I think I might have a little trouble next time I roast my beloved veggie. I should have picked rutabaga. I'm not fond of rutabaga.
p.s. Through the miracle of modern medicine, he doesn't remember any of this. Why do I??
p.s. Through the miracle of modern medicine, he doesn't remember any of this. Why do I??
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
we're back . . . .
in Tampa. We couldn't get the 9TS's pain under control so I packed our bags, stuffed him back into the Gray Goose and off we went. The poor 9TS was one miserable beastie but this morning is a whole other story!!!! He is relatively pain free. YAY Moffitt!!!!
Actually, he is MIA right now. They have taken him down for an MRI to make sure he doesn't have a spinal cord compression and then we wait for results. This guy will do anything to get out of dodge for a couple of days to this lovely oasis . . . oh, what the heck, we all know he hates it here. He says every time he leaves, they keep a part of him . . . a toe . . . a lung. I suggested he donate an ear this time since, he has two and they are ever so slightly impaired anyway . . . he shot me THE look!
While he was gone, it was like Gray's Anatomy in here. Nine doctors trounce into his room . . . all different sizes and shapes. They said they would return when he was back. p.s. the doctors on GA are cuter. Well, except for the amazing Dr. Z.
Actually, he is MIA right now. They have taken him down for an MRI to make sure he doesn't have a spinal cord compression and then we wait for results. This guy will do anything to get out of dodge for a couple of days to this lovely oasis . . . oh, what the heck, we all know he hates it here. He says every time he leaves, they keep a part of him . . . a toe . . . a lung. I suggested he donate an ear this time since, he has two and they are ever so slightly impaired anyway . . . he shot me THE look!
While he was gone, it was like Gray's Anatomy in here. Nine doctors trounce into his room . . . all different sizes and shapes. They said they would return when he was back. p.s. the doctors on GA are cuter. Well, except for the amazing Dr. Z.
Monday, August 1, 2011
ode to whine . . .
Sunday: No walking, my wretched old knee didn't like something I did to it and protested mightily. I'd complain too if someone made me bend in an odd direction . . . but why while trying to get up off the porcelain goddess . . . . I know, never mind, we won't go there! You can say thank you, now.
Lunch!!! I ran away!! Lee and I had lunch at Carrabba's and harassed the waiter unmercifully. She did at least, I, on the other hand, was a perfect angel!!! About the time she goaded him into popping the poor odd numbered shrimp into his mouth, I almost choked myself in a fit of giggles. And yes, there was some wine involved and yes, I took a baggy of the 9TS's favorite spaghetti home with us, along with some minestrone and a mini dessert.
Rough night. The poor 9TS was up until 4:30. He wandered. He moaned. He groaned. He itched. His teeth hurt. Nothing seemed to work. Miserable, miserable, miserable.
Monday: Placed a call to Moffitt first thing. Still waiting for a call back. His primary nurse is off on Mondays. Gah!!!!
A very carefully trodden 2.77 miles this morning.
NOTE TO GOGGLE: Carrabba's and Moffitt are too spelled correctly. Go fish! Grumble, grumble, grumble.
Lunch!!! I ran away!! Lee and I had lunch at Carrabba's and harassed the waiter unmercifully. She did at least, I, on the other hand, was a perfect angel!!! About the time she goaded him into popping the poor odd numbered shrimp into his mouth, I almost choked myself in a fit of giggles. And yes, there was some wine involved and yes, I took a baggy of the 9TS's favorite spaghetti home with us, along with some minestrone and a mini dessert.
Rough night. The poor 9TS was up until 4:30. He wandered. He moaned. He groaned. He itched. His teeth hurt. Nothing seemed to work. Miserable, miserable, miserable.
Monday: Placed a call to Moffitt first thing. Still waiting for a call back. His primary nurse is off on Mondays. Gah!!!!
A very carefully trodden 2.77 miles this morning.
NOTE TO GOGGLE: Carrabba's and Moffitt are too spelled correctly. Go fish! Grumble, grumble, grumble.
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