Energized

I have noticed since the last couple of chemo sessions, that I feel fine the day afterwards. I do things, even, like translations or trying to design our new kitchen. This lasts for 2 or 3 days and then I start to go downhill. At least I have hope that one day I may actually do some chores around the house. And that they won't feel like chores.

Yesterday the nurse asked why I was wearing my moon boots. "They're the only shoes I can get into," I said. "And now my hands and face are affected, too." My face, so far, just has a few red blotches, but I anticipate the day when I won't be able to go anywhere without a veil.

She took one look at my hands and went to find the doctor. I now have two types of cortisone creams, one for my hands and feet and one for my face.

Whatever happened to white gloves now that I need them?

Nick does stuff, too

He's been laying the floor in the workshop machine room and taking down the ceiling to make a sturdy floor for the living room above.

Good Day in Hospital - II

The things I forgot when writing last post.

Told the doctor my neighbour made me up some homoeopathic oil for my feet and hands.

"It won't hurt," he said. Then, "As long as it doesn't cost too much. I hate it when it costs a lot." I reassured him that it was a gift. He felt better.

I have the impression he believes it's harmless -- and ineffective. And so far it isn't doing anything, but we'll go through another three weeks of chemo and decide.

I'm still on shots to augment my white blood counts. Told the doctor I still have leftover EPO for my red blood counts. "Save it," he said. "Don't be selling it to any cyclists." Told him I was going to be a cyclist. "Not yet," he said.

He asked me if the doctor in charge of my program in Lyon explained things to me in French or English. "French," I replied. . . pause. . . "Does he speak English?" "He must," said my new doctor.

Live and learn. But I think the doctors prefer to speak French to make sure they don't screw anything up. If I screw up, nothing lost.

Good Day in Hospital

My doctor is on vacation, so I had to see another one today. He was lovely. (He is, actually.) First he said, "Everything seems to be working for you, doesn't it?" That was cheery.

Then he said, "You're 70, aren't you?" "In July," I said. "You don't look it," he said. See? Lovely. "I've got the good genes and the bad genes," I said. "That's how it goes," he said, or some French equivalent.

My big toenail on the left foot is almost off. Infectious nephritis. I'll recover when the chemo is finished. The good part is that my left food doesn't hurt so much now. Now if the right one would go.

More Happy Dance

Went to the vet this morning and had another blood test. Nala's white blood count has fallen from just over 35 to just under 29. The amoxillin is working! Yea!

Back on Monday. Or Saturday if need be.

Half a Happy

As I mentioned in my previous post, Nala developped pyrometra. As I also said, if you know what that is, fine; if you don't, don't ask unless you have an unspayed bitch. In that case, it would be a good idea to look it up.

At any rate, the cure is to spay. So Nala was spayed and given a course of antibiotics: Cephalexlin, to be specific. When we got to the vet on Monday for her post-surgery check up, she had eaten very little, but had eaten some, so the vet sent us home, again.

Tuesday morning, she still hadn't eaten and the incision was seeping blood. We went back to the vet. Her white blood count was up from 34+ (double the normal limit) to 35+. We changed antibiotics, now she's on Amoxicillin.

Today, she ate breakfast! At first she didn't want it, but Nick took her out for a few minutes and when she came back, she ate.

As we were leaving for the hospital, I decided to walk her for another couple of minutes. When she heard her collar (chain), she woke up, came into the kitchen. . .
and danced! Afterwards she sulked because I would only let her walk about 25 meters and made her come home.

This evening, she wouldn't eat, again. So we just gave her her pills. Then she ate -- about a quarter of her meal. I guess she thinks eating means a dessert of pills and since she'd already had them, it was save to eat.

You know how people think Chows are stupid because you can't train them and they won't do anything you say? It has occurred to me that Chows must think people are pretty stupid because they can't train us to do things their way.

She seems reasonably lively. (Is it possible to sleep lively?)

As for me, great day at the hospital. Arrived a bit early for my 1:30 appointment and, for the first time ever, did not have to go to the waiting room, do not pass Go. Was given a room immediately. The nurses arrived 15 minutes later after their lunch break. I was alone, too. In fact, most of the rooms only had one patient or were empty. They must have recovered from the holiday disruption.

One of the nurses, I discovered, has 2 cats and a German Shepherd. She showed absolutely no interest when I said I fed raw. So I went to sleep.