Today, after doing a bunch of household chores, I went back to the gym for the first time since November 1.  I can scarcely dignify the fifteen minutes I spent on the elliptical as a workout, but it’s a start, and that felt good.  I could have done more, but I wanted to make sure I’d have enough strength afterwards to go outside, as the weather today was pleasantly mild, and there’s rain in the forecast for the next few days.

I did manage to go out and pick up some mini-croissants that I included in my lunch.  It was, all things considered, a fairly substantial lunch.

Late this afternoon I visited a friend.

Another quiet day.

I didn’t sleep all that well last night, so I did nap a little today, but I must say that I’m feeling a lot stronger than I felt the day following my first two infusions.

I spoke to my brother and to my sister this morning. Of course we’re happy about yesterday’s report and we’re looking forward to being together Thanksgiving.

I had a luxurious lavender soak (courtesy of my cousin).  It’s a long time since I’ve soaked in the bathtub.

And a dear friend, knowing how much I like it, brought me Danish marzipan.  What a lovely day!

Infusion day, and it was long and tedious.  Today’s appointment was 11:30, and we got there by 11:15.  At noon they hadn’t yet called me for vitals (weight, temperature, blood pressure, pulse) and the fingerprick.  (We could see that the room where they do those tests was very full, as was the reception area.)  They called me for vitals at about 12:15, but there wasn’t a chair free for the blood test for another fifteen minutes or so.

Then I saw the oncologist (Dr. S), who was wearing a tie with a pattern that he had chosen in my honor.  (Those of you who know me well will probably know what I mean, but if you don’t, that’s okay.)  He asked how I was feeling (pretty good, peppier the last couple of days, and eating a bit better), and examined me.  He was very pleased with the exam; he palpated my liver and said it was noticeably smaller, and we are hopeful that this is the drug at work.

I also asked whether he advised for or against travel, and he was enthusiastically for it.  He not only advised, he urged it, and pressed me to make whatever travel arrangements I could.  So I am looking at the timing of the infusions and the scan (so I can get an eval at Memorial Sloan Kettering), and thinking about the possibilities.

I said that, in the absence of word from them, I had assumed that my clotting time was still out of bounds for the protocol, and he confirmed it, and said they’d try one more time.  I don’t expect to pass this time either,  but if I do I’ll have a decision to make.   Anyhow, I waited a bit more for an infusion chair.  It was past time for me to eat something, and I’d brought food with me, but not enough.  They did the additional blood work expeditiously.  (I pointed out that the doctor wanted it, and the nurse asked me if I knew why, and I told her, also pointing out that she couldn’t use my port for the draw.)

By now it was nearly two, and then they had to send for my drug and verify that it was my drug and start the drip going.  All in all, we didn’t leave until 3:15 or later, which meant that we got to share the subway with school kids and shoppers.  I managed to wedge myself into a seat without too much trouble, and then we were home.

So that was today.  Long and tedious, but on the whole, extremely happy.  I have finished cycle I.

And so I start my nineteenth year at Panix.

I spent the morning working and taking care of some administrative chores– transferring a domain and some accounts that I’ve been handling so that other people will more easily be able to manage them.

I felt a little tired (both sleepy and physically tired) when I left to go to the office, but I perked up over the course of the afternoon.  I’m still sleepy, but I noticed when I left the office that my pace was brisk and my energy was high.  I had no trouble with subway stairs, or with the hill from the station to my house.

I have been eating a little better; I expect that accounts for it, and I’m very pleased.

Today was the last day of my eighteenth year at this job.  I’m not leaving yet.  There are a couple of projects I’m eager to finish up before I back away, and I hope I’ll get to them soon.  (Other projects have been taking priority, and I’m waiting for input and help from other staffers.)

It was another fairly quiet day, but productive.  The other day I went through my closet and sorted through shoes, discarding some and contributing others to a thrift shop in our neighborhood.  (I’ll make at least one more pass through those remaining, and go through other clothing besides.  I know there are items I won’t use, but meantime I cleared out a lot of space.)  This morning, my sweetie took the shoes to the thrift shop.

Then I got email from a friend an former colleague who was happy to adopt my tenor recorder.  It was a lovely but misguided high-school graduation present.  My stubby fingers could never adapt to the instrument, which I think is quite a good one, and I was really happy for it to go to a home where it will be enjoyed.  We also managed to do some catching up before our mutual exhaustion put an end to it.

I accomplished a couple of administrative chores and made some headway on a couple of others, but the “making headway” part is frustrating, because I don’t get to cross things off my todo list.

Today’s (postal) mail included a care package of destressers from my cousin, with a note of support.  I’ve nibbled the chocolate, but haven’t had a lavender soak yet, nor done any art work.  We also got a beautiful card with a personal note from our financial advisor, whom we’ve worked with for over 20 years.

And then I realized I’d completely forgotten I was going to meet with one of my neighbors about one of the projects I’ve been working on for the co-op.  She was merciful.

Another quiet day.

I knocked myself out today.  I worked through the morning, and went into the office (for the first time in two weeks) for a short time in the afternoon.  I figured I probably had just about enough strength to go to a sporting goods store and pick up chemical hand warmers so it won’t be so hard for them to do the fingerprick on Friday.

So I left early, and headed for the subway.  Unfortunately, instead of taking a train that would have left me at Union Square, I ended up an avenue and a half away, and with the walking and the subway stairs I was pretty tired.  But I got my hand warmers, was more efficient (Union Square) in getting a train home, and let myself collapse for a little while.  I felt I’d accomplished something much beyond what it actually amounted to.

Meanwhile, the UPS delivery left yet another care package.  I am overwhelmed by the attentions of my friends.  Thank you.

When I read my email this morning, I discovered mail sent last night from an old friend and former colleague suggesting I call before midnight, as he was in town and had something to deliver from a collective.  I said I’d be around, and if he called I could meet him, so that’s what he did.  A substantial number of Panix folk were listed on the note that accompanied the gift.  It was, let’s say, a sweet start to the day.

The rest of my morning was quiet enough, although my sweetie went through a long process of frustrating telephone communications with his drug plan about coverage for some medication.  (Interestingly, today’s postal mail included confirmation that he’s covered.)

This afternoon we went for a walk, using a drug store half a mile away as our target.  The weather was unusually mild, and I enjoyed the walk, but it did knock me out some.  When we got back, he decided to call a friend, and while they were talking he was interrupted by call waiting from another friend, delivering an enormous care package of foods.  They were very thoughtfully selected, and included some candidates for the crackers I mentioned earlier.  I met her in the lobby of our building, and we had a chance to talk for a little while before I went back upstairs with my goodies.

I see that I haven’t mentioned this before:  For years now, my sweetie has declared every day Thanksgiving Day, because we’ve been so lucky and so happy together.  It’s become more poignant now, but it’s still true, and we still feel it.  So today I received many gifts, and, as usual, it’s Thanksgiving Day.

One month ago I had a physical at which I was pronounced phenomenally healthy.  I’m so relieved that we pursued the nagging gut issue with an ultrasound.

It’s Follies day.  I woke up feeling pretty good.  The abdominal discomfort is persistent and I’m accustomed to it.  I did an assortment of minor pesky chores in the morning (hand laundry, for instance), and generally took it easy so as to save my strength for the afternoon.

We’d arranged to meet at 2:30 around the side of the theater, so as to be away from the Broadway crowds.  My sweetie and I got there about one minute early, and had barely started to scan the crowd when we saw them.  Then we went around in circles looking for the entrance to the theater (Mariott Marquis; it’s inside, but the signs are unclear and not very prominent, although none of them actually said “Beware of the leopard”.

The production was really, really fine.  All of the singers were good, but the leads were spectaculay.  Danny Burstein, in particular, blew me away.  So did Bernadette Peters, of course, but I expected that.  Thing is, much as I love the music from Follies I don’t particularly like the second act.  The last production I saw did nothing to increase my enthusiasm.  This time, the talent and the production did a lot to compensate for the weak book.  The whole afternoon– a theater outing with dear friends, my first non-medical excursion in over a week, the brilliant production– left me on a high.

We all went to dinner at a little Indian restaurant a block from where we live, enjoying our time together.  I realized I was getting pretty tired, and when I looked at my watch I realized it was nearly 8:00, by which time I’m normally getting tired.  So I had a full day, used a lot of energy, and more than survived it.  Color me happy.

Saturday is family day.  I spend a fair amount of time on the phone with my brother and then with my sister.  Those conversations (habits we’ve been maintaining for years) always help my mood.  Today I was able to bring them the good report from yesterday, and we expect to see each other in a couple of weeks, for Thanksgiving.

I spent the day resting.  There’s no question that the infusion knocks me out, but I wasn’t nearly so depleted today as last week (when I was dealing with the new port insertion as well as the infusion).

I’m looking forward to the theater and reunion with dear friends tomorrow.

The word is trickling through various communities, and I’m hearing from people from a lot of different contexts.  Panix was the hard one.  I’m afraid I’ve given the impression that I’ve mostly packed it in, which truly doesn’t yet seem to be the case, but I wasn’t comfortable posting off Panix (to LiveJournal, say) when so many of the people I know there would have had to decide whether to keep a secret that isn’t really a secret.

Anyhow, I had my second chemo today.  Except for the fact that it took much longer than we’d expected, it went well.  They did the initial “vitals” (with a finger prick for blood).  We’d just come in from outside, and my hands were so cold it wasn’t easy to get the blood to flow.  But eventually she drew what she needed (not very much).  Then, almost immediately, they took me to the infusion waiting area, said it would be about ten minutes, and left me there for half an hour.

Finally I went into the infusion room, was assigned a chair, and sat there for half an hour before the nurse came and said she’d need to draw more bloods.  I wondered why.  But rather than doing the draw and then going to find out why, she went to find out why first, which meant another twenty minutes or so.  It turns out that they still have a couple of weeks to get a result on the clotting issue that would make me eligible for the protocol.  It also turns out that the draw for that test has to be through a vein, so they couldn’t use my port.  Fortunately, it’s been a week since anyone has drawn blood (except for the finger prick), so the usual vein was happy to accomodate.

Then they started the saline, and then they did the infusion, and then more saline.  My 12:30 infusion didn’t start until 2:00, and my back was stiff and sore, even in the comfy chair.  We’d been smart this week and brought food, so I was in pretty good shape when we left.  (I’ve discovered that when I don’t eat enough my legs get very heavy and I don’t want to move.)

The oncologist came in, asked how I was doing, was encouraged by my answers.  I asked him if it would be okay for me to go to the theater on Sunday, and he pretty much ordered me to do so, unless I changed my mind and didn’t feel like it.

All together, it was an excellent report.  I don’t know if I’m interested in going to the protocol.  Even if I were assured of getting the test drug, it’s so much poking and prodding.  But I’ll think about it.

Anyhow, we got home very quickly; a train was just pulling in as we got to the station, and I managed to do a little more work before I called it a day (and, for that matter, a week).