Oligo Woe Is Me

We all know that laughter is the best medicine.  If I may be so bold as to say a close second are the Beatles.  Here…see what I mean.  Now how can you not smile with lyrics like this?

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I’ve got something I can laugh about
I feel good, in a special way
I’m in love and it’s a sunny day

We take a walk, the sun is shining down
Burns my feet as they touch the ground

Then we lie beneath a shady tree
I love her and she’s loving me
She feels good, she know she’s looking fine
I’m so proud to know that she is mine

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

60 and sunny today here in Boston.  There’s a park bench and a Kindle book with my name on it.  My advice to you is that wherever you are, clap your hands once and say out loud “This is going to be a great day!”  Choose your attitude!  Do it!

Good day everyone!

Rob

This is me.  Rob.  Reporting live from my Boston abode.  It’s nice.  It’s clean.  It’s got a freaky washer/dryer combo.

So onto the topic of the morning.  As my treatments progress, I say that two outta three ain’t bad.  Here’s the breakdown for those keeping score:

• Mind – Very strong.  I feel mentally quite good.  Perhaps better than I have in many years.  I look forward, with great anticipation, as to what the next chapter for the Bromee’s will be.  The future is unknown, and I find that very exciting.
• Spirit – Since all this has started, it has significantly increased my quest for knowledge beyond the living from one moment to the next.  I have found that simple guided meditation has made me sleep better, made me rise better, and take a different look at the things that happen throughout the day.  It all seems to come more “in stride”.  I am more comfortable in my skin than I have ever been.
• Body – I left this to last…because it the one that is bad.  Or how about we say “not so great” instead.  Bad is too strong of a word for me.  But I’m tired.  I’m feeling not well.  I wake every morning feeling like I have a hangover.  And that’s a tragedy considering one of the many reasons I gave up alcohol is that I never wanted to feel that way again.  But now it’s a daily thing that I can count on.  Not a 5 star hangover, just the kind that you know if you’re not careful it could go from tolerable to terrible.  Fortunately my headaches have been relieved by a tiny little pill twice a day.  So thats good.  With all the radiation and the chemo poison flowing through my veins it a wonder I don’t feel ten times as bad.  So all in all I am thankful that this is how it’s is.  I can tolerate this and still keep a smile on my face and big inhales of life going strong.

So that’s the news as it is.  This is me.  Rob.  Signing off for another morning of proton radiation. 

Namaste,

Rob

Ten more treatments to go.  Twenty-three Quasi-Disney rides complete.    Some of you may be reading all these blog entries and wondering “Well geez…that all doesn’t sound so bad!”  In the grand scheme of life it hasn’t been too awful.  However, for the first time today, I’m going to tear down a little piece of the wall and share just a litte piece of my reality.

Disclaimer – If you get bummed out easy then this post is probably not for you.

My routine has changed quite a bit from where I stated some posts back.  My days are a wee different.

• I get up at 5am.  Usually feeling queasy.  I roll myself out of bed forcefully so that I can’t change my mind. 
• I keep the alarm clock out of arm’s reach to help facilitate the forceful rolling out of bed.  It works.
• I wander around a bit trying to get the 4 or 5 items together to go hit the treadmill.  I now am making a pile beofre I go to sleep to mitigate this wandering.  I seem to forget what I am doing at the moment I’m doing it.
• Try to eat half a banana or an apple.  I like apples.  Bananas are easier though.
• Come back from barely making a mile and a quarter on the treadmill.  This is half of what I was doing two weeks ago.  I have to be careful now as my knees will sometimes not obey, and slip our from under my thigh.
• Rest on the sofa, or work on my blog, and and have my morning prescription buffet. 
• At 8am I take my chemo, get cleaned up, and head over to the underground bunker where the Proton Treatment Center is buried. 
• I ride the aforementioned Quasi-Disney ride for about 20 minutes with my Proton Helmet on.  At least I look cool.
• Then on some days I have various appointements to attend.  These usually involve getting some blood drained and taking spacial apptitute tests to make sure body parts are coordinationg with directions they are getting.  I am now unable to walk a toe-to-heel straight line.  So I guess I’d fail a field sobriety test even though I don’t drive and I don’t drink.  I’d probably still get busted for some reason anyway.
• Then I try to take a city walk to get some fresh air.  Then I remember that I’m in downtown Boston and fresh air is not particulary abundant here.
• Then I get back to my abode, put on my jammies, and try to amuse myself until it starts all over again.

I’m sharing this with you becuase some folks thought I may be minimizing the situation by using humor to paint a happy picture.  I know that blogs like this one all somehow get linked and I would not want somebody using this one for reference when every post I’ve made has been about rainbows or puppies or how it’s impossible to write a sad song on a ukulele.  While all that is true, there is also a back end to all this that I haven’t shared.  It is not, from any perspective, rainbows and puppies.  I thought you’d want to know.  

Have a peaceful day.  Embrace what you hold dear.  Take a deep breath and smile when you think of that which truly has meaning to your life. 

Namaste,

Rob