13 April 2012: a Point Often Missed

Consult with the doctor today revealed a point often missed.

This is that I’m not getting better as far as we know. I won’t get another CT scan until June owing to queueing in the public option and the shrinkage in the surface bump I seem to find may only be subjective.

The doctor said that there is a group of connected tumors, perhaps best thought of as one monster Tumor, reaching from my shoulder to my groin. It is large and highly dangerous. So far, zapping it with hormone treatment and now chemotherapy have only limited its spread.

Which may mean I have not much time left on Earth. “Get well” wishes are in poor taste although I understand and appreciate that the sender means by “well” a medically managed return to the real world. I may given my possibly short time prefer, to the “real world” of work and friends, a lost child’s existence: going to the candy store, going alone to movies, the library and the Eslee book superstore in a lonely circuit of Causeway Bay, spending my money like a lost child. For dunkel ist das Leben! Ist der Todt!.

If I cannot reconnect with forgiveness to my ex but must perforce exchange pleasantries walking on glass because I don’t want to hurt her anymore, and if I cannot see my granddaughters, I reason, like Emily the D, “but what of that” and go to the show. For I find that any other reaction leads to madness in my family.

My parents always believed in hard work. My dad requalified for medical practice in retirement after Mom passed. Of course, my art and writing is work but my family preferred work validated by a paycheck.

The Lost Boy existence is an impasse that would lead eventually to a hotel bar. Fascinating places, hotel bars in Asia, especially for lost souls in the peltering storm flying like Corrigan the wrong way.

It also needs to be noted that I am being given quite a lot of pain-killing Fentanyl, a synthesized morphine substitute with all of morphine’s properties, through a “patch” which extends the delivery over about two days, and that some days I will ask for as many as seven “break thru” doses of a morphine/Fentanyl Jungle Joy Juice when I have break thru pain in spite of the patch.

This is interesting because my pain management at Swedish Covenant and Evanston hospitals was primitive by comparison, and my “break thru” pain was unaddressed save with promises that I’d get the base dosage of Demerol when the time came. The Pain People of the medical profession, doctors and nurses who believed that pain is Good For You, were pushed out of the main event but held a toehold in their belief, that pain that comes in spite of medication that drives the patient crazy because he’s taking dangerous meds and is still in pain.

My higher level of dose may be causing euphoria manifest in a slight increase in my natural verbosity. It may be causing my current lack of fear of death. The creative writing predates the morphine/Fentanyl, however, and I lost my fear of death, for the most part, after Dr. Sue gave me the bad news, because “you shall know the Truth, and the Truth shall set you free”.

There’s even a Fentanyl lollipop given to grievously wounded casualties in Afghanistan. Sounds yummy. I like sticking things in my mouth. But Class 1 substance abuse without a prescription is stupid.

Trust the Russian Republic, by the way. In response to Chechen takeover of a Moscow theater, the Russkies may have used a Fentanyl gas to put down the terrorists which of course acted upon the hostages as well.

My doctor said that the Fentanyl dose I get is very high. This is another reason why I shall probably be in the hospital until June if we can use May to reduce the dosage, depending on the results of chemo. But: my thinking is based on the foundational notion, which might be wrong, that I shall return to normalcy; the doctor doesn’t appear to share this view.

As a Catholic I believe perforce in God’s Love and the efficacy of His/Her sacraments including Reconciliation. The rest is silence because writing about and speaking about religion as opposed to spirituality and philosophy gives me the willies because our world has become Angels and Demons as envisioned by S Clay Wilson. Religion encourages hatred and slaughter, therefore my “return” to the faith of my esteemed ancestors should be low-key.

I can, says the helmeted prophet or Angry Bird, do the Harlem Shake because the essence of existence is freedom, as Sartre saw. The prophet dances lonely and cries what sounds like que rico! What rice, cheered they tell me south of the border to encourage the band. Then the wretched of the earth, typically students grinding out their lives to get a university education and mega-debt, realize that “despite all the computation, you can just dance to the rock and roll station“.

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One Response to “13 April 2012: a Point Often Missed”

  1. I truly hope you’ll recover, I had throat cancer and 18 months later I’m still in recovery, It takes time but your still heading into the belly of the beast.

    I hope your faith in a god is rewarded. Luckily I have no gods.

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