Hospital In and Out

So, I'm trying to get back in the chemo groove last week, with a ride from one of my favorite people and a chance to catch up, and all's well and good, until I spike a fever of 103 that night. (In fact, I had even been feeling well enough to be doing some fairly energetic gardening with my pick-ax.  yeah. Its been dry, REALLY dry!))) So, that was good, but fever and vomiting were bad, and so the next day we took a drive to Fox Chase, at Dr's request, and they take me into DRU : the Direct Referral Unit?, and do a bunch of tests and pokey examinations and then they admit me and I have a ground floor room with a view of green grass and dogwood trees where I wait while they do tests and more tests, and cultures, and what-not.

So.  Here are some chapter headings:

            Stories from behind the Curtain: or, extreme examples of too much information, and the redemptive function of hearing about folks in way worst shape than me dealing with their impending death with grace, and humor, and an intense resolve and some pretty awesome displays of love. 

(And, yes, if I didn't get the message from watching my friend Kevin die with such poignant and ferocious style last week, in his sleep! And now here, here I am, I'm hearing it  again, the message, the message, the message... )

            We're All dying of Something. : or, who are you kidding?  or: better get that colonoscopy  now while there's nothing to find...or, in case you haven't noticed, we've all been saddled with these imperfect (substitute miraculous, juicy, embarrassing, fabulous etc) bodies that are getting old. 

Well, some of us are getting old.

                 And you're lucky if you are.  So.

Please just DON'T complain about it!  Its boring. Its predictable. Its arrogant, and yes, even rude, amongst those of us that are NOT necessarily living all that much longer.  And sometimes its just yucky.

That being said, I must admit that I have always been of the opinion that if I didn't have anything better to talk about than my health, JUST SHOOT ME NOW. (which, naturally, I've had to modify lately)  And, naturally, the Fates being the cruel teachers that they are, Everyone, of course, wants to know how I'm doing.  All the time. Which I appreciate.  And David appreciates.  Really, I do. 

But maybe if I put it on paper, y'all can read about it and we can move on to other,
lighter topics while I'm still around.

Like the Meaning of Life.

            

            more to come later,

           

So, down at Fox Chase they decide/hope its a problem with my biliary stent  (originally placed when I first got diagnosed in August, 2010 -- ( Stage Four Colon Cancer with metastises to the ovary and to the liver), (and recently swapped out after an obstruction (?))  and so they decide to be super sure there's no obstruction, even though they hadn't seen anything on the ultrasound, ( darn) (I love my Doctors, and Nurses et al) and they prep me all up ---twice, since my white blood count was tooo low, oh no,  the first time --- and then  they go in and decide to just REMOVE it (and maybe THAT"S the problem, ) as they don't see tumors impinging on it now... which is really good.  Isn't it?