Friends:

The day didn't begin propitiously.  Aside from being hungry, I found myself standing in the altogether while docs #1 & #2 quarrelled & scribbled all over my treasures with opposing colored pens.  I demanded a color of my own, so I could join in, but things got resolved and I was whisked off.  Doc #1 put on a wonderful Joe Sample CD I hadn't heard, but then I started to panic when he left the room.  So I concentrated on the music, and that worked, and that's the last I knew.

Next thing, searing pain, a room I knew and didn't like.  Full of sick people.  Despite being stoned out of my mind, I had enough sly craftiness to smile lovingly at the nurses, and say "hi", dimly knowing that this might make them like me, and help me get out of here.  I put on a stunning imitation of being bright and coherent, and it worked.  Woke up again in a place still not very nice, but definitely better.  But... trapped!  Every which way.  My legs were chained to the foot of the bed in blue squishers that randomly puffed & exhaled, plus various other tubes pinning various other parts of my body.  Kindof like Barbaralla in the naughty-stuff machine, except this was NO FUN AT ALL!  GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!  The battle began.  The poor nurses, who'd expected not to have to deal with me for 24 hours, were under seige.  After two dinners, I quickly got at least to wander around dragging my IV pole, and by 2:30 a.m. I'd worn them down to where I got to go outside.  The only place I was allowed to go was a basement loading dock, but to my delight there were a half dozen geezers in nighties wandering & wheeling around, having quite a party.  We all told our stories and enjoyed the freedom and fresh air.

The next day all the doctors could do was shake their heads.  Doc#1 ran into me in the hall & thought at first that doc#2 had had to abort the surgery, he couldn't believe I was mobile.  I continued to look as bright and cheery as I could, and finally, the next morning, they gave up and sent me home.

THEN I did a dive!  The sheer will I'd used to effect my escape deflated, and reality set in.  With the IV, I'd had a shoot-yourself morphine supply.  I'd thought it quite a waste -- what would have been REALLY cool would be to hook it up with chocolate.  Can you imagine?  One press of the button and your body's FLOODED WITH CHOCOLATE!  YES!  But now I had to settle for pills, not near as powerful.  Like kitchen remodelers, they'd left a lot of pipes & crap hanging out, and the pain is a real challenge.  And mentally upsetting.  I'm not normally squeamish, but the drainage really gives me the heeby-jeebies.  But, if it's the price for freedom, I'll take it.

And I can't complain.  I should be feeling much awfuller than I do, and suffering much more than I am.  I stay stoned most of the time, and except for getting up & down from bed, or accidentally yanking on my tubes instead of my shirt, it's not too bad.  Anita & Rich brought me cokes, and great brownies from Donna, and fresh fruit from Candy, and treats too numerous to mention.  And I could watch terrific old Columbos, if I could stay awake, but I can't.  I tuned in via conference lines to some conversion meetings, but fell asleep while they were talking -- but might have done that if I were well.  Kalena, Ben, Kaikea & Kala'i came to visit, and Kala'i was adorable in her puffy flowered pants.  Young Kevin's visit was a real treat, too.  It was sad to not be able to scoop them up and hug them.

Just got the path report and it's WAY better than I had feared.  After endless disappointments and worst cases, that was a change.  Yes, it's still bad, and there was still cancer they hadn't gotten the previous time, but the overall picture isn't near as bad as it could be.  That is, I won't be dead by Friday.  So there's still hope.  Much better than what I'd come to expect.  I'll see my onc in a week, and we'll talk about whither-from-here.

For now, I'll just watch bits of movies and contemplate things to eat.  Don't let anybody steal my PC.