A Day in the Life

I decided to write this in the morning before I receive any toxins. Here's what a typical day is like in this joint.

Sleeping has never been my forte, so you can only imagine what it's like to sleep here. My room is right across from the nurses station, and they do a lot of yaking and laughing at night. They must be bored. At 5 am, my nurse arrives to draw blood. An aide tags along to take my vital signs. If I'm lucky, I fall back to sleep. Today I was lucky, but the machine I'm attached to (I have a constant saline drip) started beeping at about 6:15. Goodbye Shut-Eye.

I peer over at my bedside table to see two medicine cups filled with pills. I dutifully swallow all of them (estimated 30-40 pills per day). Then I do some mouthcare involving nasty rinses. This will hopefully ward off mouth sores later on.

I actually receive a cup of coffee at 7:40, woo-hoo.

After a short stint at the computer, it's time to get moving. I write a Quote for the Day on the white board (today's: "To be worn out is to be renewed."--Lao-tzu). Then I do my stretches and toning exercises, followed by 15 minutes on the bike.

Breakfast arrives, followed by a visit from the nurse or nurses. They bring me even more pills and discuss the day's "plan." Then the docs arrive. Today there were 5 counting the pharmacist. I've decided to stand while they speak to me because (a) I need more standing time and (b) I want to be at their level, literally and otherwise. Apparently, I'm the only person who ever does this, but who cares? When a visitor enters your house, you stand to greet them, and you only sit down when they do. Mostly we Q & A, and then they do the stethoscope thing. Bye.

After they leave, it's shower time, but since I have a catheter hanging out of my chest, I have to get someone in unhook my lines and put a special covering on the whole piece of equipment. Of course, this someone has to come back in and remove the covering when I'm done.

Then I'm free to do what I want until I get my chemo, which comes around noon. Lunch comes; visitors come; I use my laptop; my phone rings; I try to nap (impossible due to the many many disruptions). It seems every time I close my eyes, someone wants to give me meds, change my lines, take my vitals, check my bathroom output (yes, all bodily fluids are carefully noted and measured). No rest for the weary.

I rarely leave my room, because if I do I must be masked and gloved and it's really crowded out there. One advantage of going "out" though, is that I get to see what people look like without a mask. Everyone who enters my room must wear a mask and gloves, so I only see the top third of everyone's face. Sometimes I don't even recognize the people who've been in and out of my room all day.

And so it goes.

PRIZE!!! The first person to tell me who sprinkled the above line (and so it goes) through one of his most famous novels wins a line mention in my Plog.

Like Ol' Man River, I just keep rolling along.