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stephbgSaw BB twice today.
The good news is that he remains himself, alert and aware, and is not in pain (although did require some morphine at first). The medical staff have moved with impressive swiftness to arrest the spreading numbness, which has now reached waist height on both sides, and along certain nerves in his arms. He is experiencing some discomfort from loss of other functions, but I'll not share the details here.
He is most disappointed that Black and Decker tools will not get a go at his very thick skull, but continues to appreciate the lighter touch of my "magic hands" on his head. I'm even officially listed as part of his pre-admission treatment program. The nurses would like to borrow me. My family frequently does.
Tonight he started a much more aggressive chemotherapy program. It's a tactic rather than a strategy, so we wait for another as-yet-unknown period for the next assessment and treatment.
I could not begin to describe where in Charlie's his ward is. It's a giant Escher-like edifice of convoluted square spirals. Once you're in, you're entirely divorced from the outside world, and every corridor and ward looks the same. I followed the Exit signs instead of the Way Out signs and got hopelessly lost (although I did find an emergency stairwell, and then the staff-only lifts).
Having had a chance to observe him twice for several hours, I've managed to dismiss the initial very real fear that he might die in the next few days. I have recovered from that shock and have chosen to gather my wits and enjoy whatever time we have together, and understand that the future holds more surprises for us all. I don't handle this type of stress at all well, but I'm doing better than when we lost Grandma 3 years ago.
A BIG thank you to everyone who's expressed support and sympathy. It makes a *huge* difference.
The good news is that he remains himself, alert and aware, and is not in pain (although did require some morphine at first). The medical staff have moved with impressive swiftness to arrest the spreading numbness, which has now reached waist height on both sides, and along certain nerves in his arms. He is experiencing some discomfort from loss of other functions, but I'll not share the details here.
He is most disappointed that Black and Decker tools will not get a go at his very thick skull, but continues to appreciate the lighter touch of my "magic hands" on his head. I'm even officially listed as part of his pre-admission treatment program. The nurses would like to borrow me. My family frequently does.
Tonight he started a much more aggressive chemotherapy program. It's a tactic rather than a strategy, so we wait for another as-yet-unknown period for the next assessment and treatment.
I could not begin to describe where in Charlie's his ward is. It's a giant Escher-like edifice of convoluted square spirals. Once you're in, you're entirely divorced from the outside world, and every corridor and ward looks the same. I followed the Exit signs instead of the Way Out signs and got hopelessly lost (although I did find an emergency stairwell, and then the staff-only lifts).
Having had a chance to observe him twice for several hours, I've managed to dismiss the initial very real fear that he might die in the next few days. I have recovered from that shock and have chosen to gather my wits and enjoy whatever time we have together, and understand that the future holds more surprises for us all. I don't handle this type of stress at all well, but I'm doing better than when we lost Grandma 3 years ago.
A BIG thank you to everyone who's expressed support and sympathy. It makes a *huge* difference.
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Date: 2008-09-15 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-15 10:59 pm (UTC):-(
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Date: 2008-09-15 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-16 03:17 am (UTC)