Where to begin....

Treatment was more unpleasant than usual, simply because I lost my appetite immediately. But the worst (and still continuing) struggle has been recovery this time. I was in the hospital for three days this week on hydration, nausea medication, and lots of pain killers. This was all a direct result of my second lumbar puncture from the most recent treatment. So, what again is a lumbar puncture? It's the spinal tap I've referred to previously. The doctor takes a big needle and injects chemo into the nervous system via the lower back, while also taking a sample of fluid to make sure everything is still cancer-free. Sometimes, there is an imperceptible "leak" of fluid from that puncture. This causes more--and more severe-consequences than you might imagine. It caused severe headaches and back/neck pain for me a couple months back. That's especially true when anyone with this problem is more vertical than completely flat. This time, think instant stomach flu in addition to that. I'm back home now and eating normally again -- anyone need some spare painkillers? I'll cut you a deal. So, the next time you want to crush your enemies without them really knowing what hit them, knock them out and give them a spinal tap. They will be bedridden for a week and won't be able to figure out why.

What else can I relate? How about a little Q&A:

What shouldn't you say to someone with cancer.
One of the guys who works the desk downstairs has a wife with cancer. He is clearly concerned about it and asks about my situation all the time, too. But he made the mistake of being completely misguide on this issue: he asked Susan the question, "Did Dan work out before this?" Susan replied that I actually did a little bit, "Sure, why?" "Because I told my wife that maybe she wouldn't be so wiped out from the chemo if she had already been in shape before she got cancer." Wrong. Chemo is incredibly harsh chemical treatment. It's essentially poison that brings you to the brink of destruction in order to kill something your body won't kill on its own. Don't ever tell someone with cancer that they are essentially ill-prepared because they didn't use the Stairmaster enough. It's just not true. And don't tell them that anyway.

What should you say?
You should say, "how can I help?" and then help them when they give you the answer. I met a guy in my most recent treatment session who was very appreciate of his well-wishers but who wasn't interested in their "I know what you're going through speeches." He liked me, however, because I actually did know what he was going through. Incidentally, this guy was from what I'll call a "very" Jewish family from Brooklyn, which made it difficult to understand his "yinglish" (yiddish-english) at times. Anyway, they brought so much food for Shabbos dinner on Friday night, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry for him. He took it pretty well, though, and ate a fair amount. No one in chemo will ever ask you for lots of food--maybe afterwards but not during.

That's all for now. Have a good weekend!