There's no place like home

Amidst the crisp cold winter that surrounds our house, I find myself expecting things to get better sooner than I should. There are times when fight the urge to cry over something trivial, and have to scold myself for expecting two days worth of anti-depressants to fix things.

I expect my chemo to be easier, but last night I had a bad bout of diarrhea, and no Immodium-AD to fight it. So off Jen went, into the cold to Walmart. Diarhea isn't a trivial matter for me, nor nausea, as I can quickly become too dehydrated. If that happens, I'll get hospitalized, and that's the last place on earth I want to be. For some reason, the Immodium comes in blister packs that are almost impossible to open in a rush. It's like you have to reach a Zen calm, follow the directions exactly, and then you have a 50% chance of getting the damn pill out. Fortunately the pills did their magic, and I was able to get back to bed.

I slept as well as I have in the last week, but still far from what I need. I just need to give the meds the time they need. I've noticed that despite the Zofran, I'm starting to feel a bit nauseous. Nothing serious, just that feeling that all is not well, and that knowing the location of a sink/toilet/trashcan is valuable information. Hopefully this is just a side effect from last night. The last thing I need is something else affecting my appetite/diet.

It's 11 degrees outside, the type of winter I always complained about not having. There's snow on the ground, not too much wind (maybe 5 degrees of windchill), and it looks tranquil. Last night as I waited for Jen to return from Walmart, I stumbled across The Wizard Of Oz. I've always associated that show with Rachel, and I expected to break down watching it, especially when Dorothy returns to Kansas. I didn't, somehow feeling that this was a good memory I should cherish, not one I should fear. Of course, I'm crying now as I write this. Rachel I love and miss you...

Cj