My mom had been with me while Robin was away and between her and Beck, kept me in line. My mom counted my calories and let me know when I was short. I remember not acting to good about it either and if I remember that, it is probably worse than I thought. I need to remember to ask her to forgive me for being a jerk.
I had this ritual. I would grab three cans of Carnation VHC and whatever meds were up in the rotation. I would sit in front of the TV, set them all down and line them up. Then, make sure the trash can is close, just in case. Then I would rub my head. It is a nervous energy thing that was around before cancer and used to be a "tell" to Robin that something was up. I would then grab a can and shake it up. Sometimes, I would pop the top then and chug the whole thing. Most times I thought too much about it not staying down and set it down....for just a second....but usually so long I had to re-shake it. At some point, it was just time. Open the can, chug it, throw it in the trash. Sit for a minute or two and make sure it was going to stay down. Two more cans to go. Intermingled with the chugging was a little more head rubbing and this ADD thing where I would either move or mix up the line of cans and meds and re-order them. Repeat the ritual two more times and that is one meal. It took almost an hour sometimes. Looking back on it now, it was ridiculous but back then I couldn't have sped up if I wanted to.
Mom and Beck were wanting some lunch and I wanted us all to get out of the house. There is an Italian place not too far from home that has great salads and I knew I could find something I could get down. Looking over the menu I found "Italian Wedding Soup". Sounded safe enough. It was heavenly. I don't know all of the spices involved but it is mainly broth with maybe some orzo and small pieces of sausage. I could taste everything. Incredible. Mom reminded me that it was only broth and I needed to find something with some calories. I chose fetuccini alfredo. This place is usually a little heavy on the sauce and for once that was helpful not only for the calories but also to help the noodles down. Couldn't taste it and didn't eat too much.
One more piece of personal info is necessary to finish this story. One of the many side effects of the chemo regimine is constipation. There had been times in my life when I thought I had been constipated. I lacked perspective. To paraphrase Dan Akroid, this constipation was of biblical proportions. I remember thinking it would have made an incredible plague. Nuff said.
So, we get home with the leftovers and I grab the to-go box as I prefered the calories from the alfredo to another friggin can of VHC. Take several bites and my stomach lets me know it's time to retire to the library. Drop trou. Have a seat. Nothing. Then I push a little...
I woke up in my son's bathtub wrapped in the shower curtain which I had pulled out of the wall when I fell sideways off the toilet. A wet bath towel was on the back of my neck where my mom had put it. And, yes, my pants are still around my ankles. Until that day I had never passed out before. It is a trip. "Can you leave the bathroom so I can pull my pants up. Thank you." We all assumed it was dehydration. My next door neighbor is an EMT and someone ran next door to see if he had a bag of fluids and an IV kit. He didn't have one but told me he would bring one home in case I needed it in the future. He said more than likely my issue was a Vasovagal nerve response thing.
Hey, who said this wouldnt be fun?
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