Chilly

It snowed yesterday as I mentioned, and a few more flurries added to the overall piles — there’s a pile from our parking lot that’s over 4m high at the entrance.  I watched some small children climbing on it and shrieking excitedly as they slid down!  I just couldn’t get warm easily in the car, and that made it more challenging to breathe.  Jerry was cuddled against me in the car, and has been somewhat hyperactive all afternoon.  Don just went down to the garage to do something, carrying an empty box with him, so he’s probably taking some excess stuff out of the car.  Jerry came to complain about this unacceptable behaviour and is firmly planted on my toes, refusing to move even as I try to get comfortable.  I’m told that tonight is a “big night” as there are 2 games on — the women’s league (who I’ve commented play much better than the men) and the men, who have won 1 game in the last 3… I’ll just leave it at that, but in either case, I’m not watching the sports.

I had my scheduled appointment with my oncologist this afternoon, and did my pre-chemo bloodwork at the same time.  Again, I was in and out of the lab in about 5 minutes; I’m probably getting spoiled by that!  So I did the test, then went to register that I had arrived at the clinic.  While waiting, I got a call from one of the nurses saying that she’d seen some of my results and I needed to urgently talk to my doctor about my hemoglobin levels, as they were “dangerously low” and I’d need “immediate transfusion” to deal with it.  As you can imagine, that made me anxious.  What did that mean in practical terms?  Did I have to be admitted to hospital — I’m quite relieved and pleased that I went through all of last year without spending a night in hospital, and I’m trying to prolong that — or did it mean something worse?  My doctor (did I mention that he’s awesome?) managed to allay my fears almost as soon as he sat down.  He said that yes, my iron levels are low and are now at a stage where a transfusion will help — he seemed a little surprised that I’ve lasted this long without needing blood except in my many surgeries — and we’ll make arrangements for one soon.  We’re going ahead with chemo on Thursday morning (at a time that I consider unreasonable, but I’ll just come home and sleep)  I also realized that the hospital and I have different definitions of “hard time after treatment,” which is surprising.  After my first round of chemo, I said that I felt somewhat drained and requested hydration.  For me, I expected not to feel like I’d be ready to dance the can-can, but I didn’t feel horrible.  My standard for “bad reaction” is where I can’t look after myself enough to go to the bathroom or I can’t stand or walk unaided.  I kind of expect to feel sluggish and take a couple of days to get back to myself.  Their interpretation seems to be that if I don’t feel exactly like myself then it’s a hard time.  I think we’ll need to align expectations, or else they’ll think that I’m doing worse than I am, or I’ll think that I’m missing something important.  For the record, as far as symptoms go, I’m not in any pain (I have a daily low dose of fentanyl that seems to manage that); while I’m tired a lot, the level of tiredness hasn’t increased, and I’ve been grumbling about feeling sleepy for the last couple of years where I alternate between struggling to fall asleep or to stay awake!  So to me, reporting that I feel drowsy or fatigued is not new, and I’d only really react if it changed.  As for everything else, I’m unthrilled by my blood pressure which insists on being around 90/60 and we’re all happy when my weight doesn’t change too much.  My/our main concern these days is shortness of breath, which apparently is exacerbated by my low red cell count; it takes less effort for me to start gasping like I’ve just run from Sparta to Athens!  (222km overland)  I’ll keep explaining, and hopefully we’ll get to a common understanding of “rough day”!

I confess that I’m a member of a Facebook group dedicated to the author Enid Blyton, who is well-known for her writing for children.  In her lifetime, she was extremely prolific and wrote several thousand short stories, plus full length books, created a number of enduring characters, wrote several plays, magazines, and so on.  Her output, between the 1930s and 1960s is phenomenal, and she’s listed as the 4th most translated English author.  I grew up reading her books, mainly the short stories and then her school and adventure stories, and every now and then, for escapism, I dive back into them.  The FB group is great, as they occasionally discuss favourite characters, literary style, etc.  I bring this up because one of the recent chats was on her short stories which frequently have a moral attached to them.  Things like, “kindness comes back to you,” “honesty is the best policy,” “be brave!” “Don’t be lazy!” And so on.  I’ve read enough of them to identify recurrent themes, but it is still heartwarming to read that one person doing a small kindness finds that it comes back to them, or that naughty children are appropriately punished or that silliness/cowardice/selfishness lead to negative results.  In some ways, her stories are an early 20th-century version of Aesop (who I also dive back into from time to time; I’ve found a beautiful translation with well over 500 fables!) I honestly prefer her books over many of the modern children’s authors (the kids have repeatedly banned me from watching so many TV shows and movies that it’s surprising that I have any idea of kids’ programming!)  We can argue this, but I’m of the unshaken view that if a child is rude or disobedient and their behaviour results in danger to others, the appropriate response is not to congratulate them on their ability to escape from the mess they created.  Thoughts?

I know it’s late; I interrupted myself to order a pizza, and I’ve been arguing with a small dog that my pizza is not his dinner, and he should perhaps try to extract some fries from Don.  He’s on the floor glaring at me and eyeing the box which has half of my (small) pizza in it in hopes that I’ll be too distracted to stop a raid!  Now, though, I think I’ll make a cup of tea and head in to bed.  And just for the record, that’s just one more reason why I like His Holiness Pope Francis!  Good night!