some snapshots

So far so good.  We LOVE Kaiser.

First chemo of three

A glamorous social worker. Get in touch if you have any problems.

And the glamorous Doc Buchshacher.

Grace administers the chemo.

Then a nice chat with the pharmacist who explained absolutely everything (lost the pic).

And then back to radiation

Help me! I'm the real Louis the Fourteenth...  See the previous entry

Wherever You Go There You Are (and there are a lot of other people there, too)

 Hugh about to crawl under the house

to look for the pliers he lost

the last time he crawled under the house

(he's so damned CUTE)

Today we went to Hugh's first (of about 30) daily radiation treatments at Kaiser Sunset.

We went down to the treatment waiting room which was a spacious atrium filled with nice little loveseats and chairs and plants. There was no tv playing(!). People were sitting around, waiting to be called or waiting for their darlings to be finished with the day's treatment.

We sat down near a couple, an emaciated man and his neat wife.
I ventured an opening question, and the man told me today's was his last treatment. Twenty-one years ago, he'd had the kind of cancer Hugh has (squamous cell carcinoma in the lymph node, origin unknown.) It was treated with radiation and "cured." Twenty-one years ago. According to his doctors, the tongue cancer he has now is not related to that one. I won't go into gory, scary details, but he was very matter-of-fact and sweet. Hugh chose not to listen too close. though he did pay attention when the guy told him about the mask he'll have to wear, and how it's bolted to a table so he can't move.

After the man went in for his final treatment, I had a long talk with the woman. They've been driving in every day (thru the sheets of rain we've been having) from Palos Verdes. She told me that one in 100 people in So. Cal has cancer. She also told me about a recent article about radiation in the New York Times. (I looked it up. Apparently overdosing with radiation is rampant.) Geeez. (Not that I totally trust the NYT after the lies they told about me & my attitude toward local water quality.) But I plan to make a pest of myself, querying the staff about checking and double-checking their computers, and so on. (I'm reading Atul Gawande's "The Checklist Manifesto.")

Hugh shook hands with the guy, when he came back, and they wished each other luck. Very sincerely.

He referred to them as a couple of angels.

Hugh was called and was gone a long time (for the initial setup.) It usually takes about 20 minutes.

I was sitting and reading my Kindle book on my iphone. I'm reading "Too Much Happiness," Alice Munro. The first story, "Dimensions," is so ambiguous and great. (Ambiguity pleases me more than untrustworthy certainty used to. I like to know where I (can't quite) stand.)

Then, I noticed my mood changing to outright cheeriness. There was an amazing, fresh scent in the air. I looked up as a black woman sat down near me. She said, "I like your boots." (see previous entry for photo of my rain boots).
I said, "I like your smell!"
She laughed. We then had a long talk about the scented shea butter she wears. She took my email and I took hers, while her ol' man came out from treatment. She sent my email to the shea butter guy who's from Africa and who makes his own blends.

Hugh came back and sat down as we finished. He was fine. Felt no different. Hadn't freaked out from the mask, though he had failed to say, as he'd planned to, after he donned it, "Please help me! I am Louis the Fourteenth. The other guy is an impostor!"

He said everyone was kind and helpful.

We came home. Hugh immediately went to work on the pump in the grow room. He wants to finish all the tough jobs before he starts to get worn down by the radiation.

John is supposedly coming up to stay a while again. I like having him here. He reportedly told Hugh, "Laurie can't be taking you there every single day."
I said, "What a sweetheart!"
Hugh said, "Yeah! I thought you knew that about him."

Appointments, Raisins

Today in the continuously pouring rain, we went to Kaiser Hemotology/Oncology for Hugh's pre-chemo info session.  Laurie Pepper, Hugh Kenny, cancer

We'd been there Monday only to be told the appt had been cancelled.
We hadn't been notified.

The receptionist, a large black woman contemplated our (my) piss-off-edness. Hugh was annoyed but didn't want to make a fuss: He usually doesn't; I generally do. (I'm the "drunkard's dream" described in "Up on Cripple Creek" by The Band, "I don't have to speak, she defends me.")

Hugh in examining room looking wary.

Anyway, I've got to get that kind lady's name, because she said, "Wait a minute. I've got a doctor who owes me a favor."  (After we got home, Hugh said, "No wonder she was so nice to me.  Look what I'm wearing."  He spread out his arms.  He was wearing his black t-shirt featuring a huge portrait of Mohammed Ali).

Anyway, she was gone a long time, and when she came back she had Dr. B. in tow. He wasn't wearing a white coat (amazing!) and he was really adorable. He said he'd see Hugh on Friday. Today. And he did. He told us to ignore all notifications from Kaiser, since they're often inaccurate and not up-to-date.

 

Doc B. (doesn't usually wear a white coat)

He explained all the procedures and showed us the chemo room. I saw one patient in there who looked like a corpse and others who looked very healthy and bored. Hugh asked if he could bring his ipod. Radiation begins next Tues. Chemo (only 3 sessions at 3 week intervals) next Weds.

We went to the pharmacy to pick up nausea medication.  We had to wait.  I said to Hugh, "We're spending a lot of time at Kaiser."  He said, "It beats salsa dancing," referring to our several expensive years of lessons and dance clubs.  He said, "The place is less noxious, and the people are nicer."

When we got home we found two packages on the doorstep soaking wet. One was the refill of the herbs (six (dry) plastic bags full), and one was my new oilcloth apron! I went right upstairs to make Hugh's tea.

(Tea brewing costume.  Still in my jacket and rainboots with new apron)

I've been pelting Hugh with books on meditation, etc. I sent him the link to Sound's True's audio of Jon Kabat-Zinn's "Mindfulness for Beginners." Last night, Hugh said, he couldn't sleep, so he listened to the audio, and decided to do the first meditation, the "raisin meditation."

You're supposed to get one raisin, look at it, touch it, smell it, etc, put it in your mouth, roll it around, taste it, etc etc. It's a good exercise, I did it when I went to a workshop he (Zinn) gave many years ago. It's supposed to get you into a state of awareness.

I asked Hugh how the meditation went.
He said, "Well, after I while I thought I'd better get up and get a raisin."

Hugh, this week

No, this is Lizzie, Hugh's ferret.
She's groggy, because we woke her up to take her picture.
No. This is Louis, Hugh's Bunny.

And this is one of Hugh's plants.
He has cancer AND glaucoma, so just give him a break.

On Jan. 8th we went to UCLA, to the dentistry dept. to get a flouride tray for Hugh's teeth, to protect them from the radiation.

After UCLA we went to the Cinerama Dome and saw Avatar. Gorgeous.

Then, on the 11th we drove to Santa Barbara and met with Dr. Han, the herbalist recommended by Emily and Randy. We liked him. Very down to earth, knowledgeable, & practical. He checked Hugh's pulses and asked some questions and put together a collection of herbs to make tea out of. He told us that they would help the radiation & chemo to do their jobs. He said that in China, herbs are usually used along with chemo and radiation.
These are the herbs (plus ginger)
then we drove home. It was a gorgeous evening.


Later Hugh and I had a fight about something (I forget what). He asked, "Do you want to break up?" I said, "Well, this would certainly be the perfect time to do it."

Hugh is doing well. He's funny and philosophical and sweet and cuddly. And beautiful. I was so happy to hear that the chemo won't mess with the moustache.

We've both been very lucky and we know it. I'm doing good, too. After living with my mom's alzheimers and so on, I realize that nothing you can do will make life easy and unsurprising.

Apropos, here are some words about the future from Emerson:
From "The Oversoul."
... But we must pick no locks. We must check this low curiosity. ...Do not require a description of the countries towards which you sail. The description does not describe them to you, and tomorrow you arrive there and know them by inhabiting them. No answer in words can reply to a question of things. For the soul is true to itself, and the man in whom it is shed abroad cannot wander from the present, which is infinite, to a future which would be finite. 
... By this veil which curtains events it instructs the children of men to live in today. The only mode of obtaining an answer to these questions of the senses is to forego all low curiosity, and, accepting the tide of being which floats us into the secret of nature, work and live, work and live, and all unawares the advancing soul has built and forged for itself a new condition, and the question and the answer are one.

---Ralph Waldo Emerson