The cancer road

It's been a while since I updated this blog - it's been a very busy time. So here's the latest:

Steve's doing really pretty well. He's recovering really well from the surgery and his incision (ugly as sin at the start) is healed so well that you might not realize it was there. What is a much slower process, however, is the recovery of his muscles and his strength. He is regaining some of that and he's walking more upright and starting to do some daily exercises to strengthen his abdominal muscles and his legs.

As expected, his appetite is unpredictable. Even when he's hungry, he doesn't eat so much. He's not losing weight, but he's also not putting it on. Tammy brought over a ton of food this weekend - along with Steve's former boss, Steve Caldwell. We had a really nice visit and a great meatloaf!

This round of chemo is higher dose than what he had before and the effects are more pronounced. He's had nausea, which he didn't have before, and some vomiting. He also has bouts of very severe and painful abdominal cramping. When we went to chemo today the nurse practitioner prescribed some anti-spasmodics to help mitigate that.

Because the effects of the chemo are unpredictable, I am going with Steve each week as he gets his juice. We went together for his first appointment, but they ended up sending him for an ultrasound and pushing the chemo off to the next day. So for the first two weeks he went by himself. But more and more I realized that no one should go through this alone - even if it's just someone to sit by your side in the chemo "suite" while the poison that's going to save your life flows. As crowded as that place is, it seems one of the loneliest places in the world.

Today, I was sitting by his chair watching the other patients: The young woman who goes every day probably for about a four or five hour stint. She spends most of her time in the chair chattering on the cell phone with girlfriends and family. Or the elderly couple - he with cancer, she by his side - fixing blankets, gently adjusting pillows, reaching out with an ancient touch. Or the tough-guy sitting next to us ... knitting. Some read, some sleep, some just look around. Occasionally, there's some conversation but for the most part it is quiet, strangely peaceful. I will be there each time with Steve because this journey is not one to take alone. Even if I am only there to fetch a blanket or stretch out my hand.