The other day, one of those “other days” which are now relegated to the blur of my defensive mind, I was exceedingly nauseous. I was having chills, my back was spasming, and I wanted relief. The good natured nurse came in to play twenty questions (she lost by the way), and I got her back out the door to fetch me the appropriate pharmaceutical relief. That relief came in the form of two magical pills – swallowed, not implanted. The nurse helpfully suggested that I nibble on some crackers first, so that I wouldn’t vomit up the pills. Unfortunately for me, these were the first saltine crackers I’ve had the occasion to label: damn near uneatable.

Anyway, the pills arrived and I geared up for 20 minutes of war with the reflexive nature of reverse peristalsis. I swallowed the pills and 90 seconds later all hell broke lose, subjectively speaking. In the next five minutes I couldn’t have held down a sleeping dog. It was all coming up until it all came; then for good measure, my body kept trying for another few minutes.

So I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, cradling my vomit pan in a two handed manner suggesting I had recently taken up a far eastern religion, when my nurse returned.

“Well good news, It doesn’t look like you vomited up the pills.”

“…” I replied.

“So we won’t have to take them again.” She added.

“Uuuuhhh,” I replied.

“Is there anything else I can get you right now?”

“Uuuuhh, sheets?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, I can do that.”

So it occurs to me, what the fuck? Twice over in fact.

First, how the hell did I keep down two pills I’d JUST swallowed when I’d barely been able to keep down my lower intestines. And Second, I was dripping in unmentionables… surely the need for clean sheets went without saying. I should have done some follow-up on the pill issue, but fatigue won the day.

Cheryl will tell you it’s another example of my not sticking up for myself, and she may have a point. But sometimes I think I have a pretty keen sense of momentum (the kind referred to in sports and pop-psychology – not as described by Newton), and in this case momentum was SO not on my side this day.

I don’t much feel like typing, but I feel even less like talking… so here it is. My apologies to those of you who’ve called and I haven’t answered.

The fever is lingering, but so far the blood cultures have been negative – so it’s increasingly likely the fever is just a side effect of the chemo and not because of some opportunistic infection. My nausea has stuck around… ratcheting up the violence yesterday. My back, which I put out the day before the dreaded ER visit has been an almost constant partner.

So what’s good? The pain medication has taken the edge off, and combined with the nausea medication I’ve been able to sleep through much of this – even if the symptoms haven’t abated. The most significant piece of good news is that the chemo will stop sometime early Tuesday morning.