The Tonsil War

The Tonsil War

I have decided to keep a running blog about the health adventure we are on. Although I have been sending weekly updates I would rather do it on a day-to-day basis as there is much that happens along the way and much I forget. Read as you wish; forget the rest!

Yesterday, Friday, marked the half-way mark for radiation; Thursday marked the half-way mark for the total treatment, chemo and radiation. We are now in the middle of the tunnel with a faint light off In the distance. When we started, of course, there was only the looming maw of the tunnel opening and no light at all. But Jim is now at the tail end of Week 4; Wednesday marks the beginning of Week 5. It feels like there is an end in sight.

Today, two days after chemo, he is not feeling too hot. The symptoms are like the flu; achy, slightly nauseated, tired, listless. He is full of anti-emetics to keep symptoms at bay, and they work pretty well. In fact, he has not been sick (as in "toss your cookies") yet. The first chemo had a much more debilitating effect as he was receiving an additional drug in conjunction with radiation. But he developed an allergy to it (or it to him) and is no longer on it. He is feeling altogether much better without it. The plan for this afternoon was to go see "Little Miss Sunshine" at the local cinema, but as the time grew nearer he decided to stay in and watch "The Saragossa Manuscript" on DVD instead. Thank you Netflix.

An interesting side-effect of this treatment is cold. That is, Jim is always cold. He wears heavier clothes, sleeps with piles of blankets over him on flannel sheets, builds a fire every evening, and really can’t get warm enough. After treatment his hands are very cold. The weather here is still quite warm; it is 83º today and he is wearing jeans, a turtle neck shirt and a long sleeved flannel shirt. Me? Shorts and a T-shirt and sandals. (I actually had to go buy a pair of “closed” shoes as we are never here in winter and I only have sandals in my closet.)

The biggest drawback to this treatment is that Jim’s taste buds have been fried. He can no longer taste anything at all. He has lost interest in eating (IMAGINE!). The idea of eating is there; the reality is that nothing is appetizing. He is using his liquid supplements more and more, not because he can’t swallow (a distinct possibility in the next couple of weeks) but that nothing tastes good and therefore he doesn’t want to put it in his mouth. So he just pours it through his feeding tube right into his stomach! OK. That’s as graphic as I’ll get.

The World Series is about to start. Nothing – not falling-out hair, turbulent tummy, fried taste buds, plowed up throat – will keep Jim from his appointment with baseball.