Farewell, Stanley

The time has come to say farewell to Stanley - as in Stanley the Stoma. As far as we know I passed all of my pre-surgery tests. We never heard back from the doctor on that awesome pressure test last week. (I guess that means I can take the pressure, eh?) My surgery starts at 8:30 tomorrow morning. We have to check in by 7:00. It should take about an hour and a half. The hospital stay will be 3 to 5 days with another 2 to 3 weeks at home for recovery.

Stanley has been great company for the last six months. I can't image going through chemo and dealing with my new plumbing simultaneously. No thanks. Or rather, a big thanks to Stanley for helping out. And he isn't really leaving. He's just going back where he came from. The good news is that he will always be a part of me, you know, deep down inside. :-)

Stanley before

Stanley after

Carla has agreed to take over the blog again while I'm incapacitated, so check in often and leave lots of nice, encouraging comments.

And as always, thanks again for all of your thoughts and prayers, etc.

Happy Birthday, Carole!

Everybody please stop by Carole's blog and wish her a happy birthday. She is 51 today by her own admission. How many women do that, huh?

Let's get 51 birthday greetings posted on her cancer blog, which she affectionately calls What a Pain in the Bum!

Carole, we wish you the best of birthdays and many happy returns of the day!

Much love, The Chamberlins

A Bum Deal

First of all, a shout out to Uncle Jim and Aunt Wanda. Love you guys!

Secondly, a quick summation for Carole. All is well. :-)

Now for the details...

The effects of the chemo are gradually and blessedly going away. People are actually starting to comment on how well I am looking. My hands and feet still have a few cracks but nothing too bad. I can walk well and grip things again. All good stuff. Sadly my appetite is back and my weight is climbing. So much for the cancer diet. Now I'll have to actually watch what I eat and exercise like everybody else to stay fit and trim. Fortunately, my energy is also returning.

My final surgery is scheduled for Wednesday morning, June 15th, just two weeks from today. The procedure is called an ileostomy takedown, which sounds like a wrestling move to me. ("That's two points for Dr. Sklow for the takedown!") The purpose of the takedown is to reverse the ileostomy, allowing traffic to once again flow through what is left of my large intestines and into my new plumbing. If everything works correctly, it will then leave my body in a controlled manner, at my bidding, through the original exit God gave me at birth.

Two tests were performed to ensure that all is healed and ready for use before the flood gates are reopened. Last Thursday, Dr. Sklow was kind enough to insert his finger well into my bum checking for any strictures. (Yes, I'm going to let you look that word up for yourself.) He smiled and said I had no strictures. Green light for test number two (let's say the pun here is intentional). Yesterday, I went back to the hospital for the pressure check. That's where they look for leaks in the new plumbing. Since I know many of you are curious, I'll explain how this is done.

The Mother of All Enemas

I lay on my left side on a table in an xray room. I am wearing my birthday suit and a lovely hospital gown open at the back. A man wearing a lead vest and a lead collar inserts a magic wand into my bum. Wait, let's call it a plastic tube with a bulbous tip about the thickness of Dr. Sklow's finger. Me, I am prepared for this. I am biting on a rolled up wash cloth which Carla (who must now remain in the waiting room) brought me after witnessing last week's stricture stress. Only a muffled scream escapes my lips.

Within moments I am being filled with a contrast fluid from a large bag hanging on an IV pole. That's lab technician number two's job. Squeeze the bag until I'm full. My job, he explains, is to hold it all in. No pressure there! Xray man number one keeps the wand in place with one hand while he guides a movable xray arm thing-a-ma-jig across my body all while looking at a monitor out of my view. He has me roll this way and that for several minutes getting images of my glowing intestines from all sides.

"Anything leaking in there?" I ask during a brief lull in the process. Mind you, I feel like a ballooned up puffer fish at this point. "You'll have to ask your doctor for the results," he replies. So I am guessing that no news is good news. I'll head in for surgery if I haven't heard from Dr. Sklow before then.

And finally, all good things have to come to an end (or out the end as the case may be). I am invited to use a toilet just off the xray room so I don't have to waddle back to the changing room. Ten minutes and several pints later, I am guided back to the dressing room where there is another toilet calling to me. Eventually, I make it out to the waiting room to see Carla, when suddenly I have to high tail it to yet a third toilet down the hall. When Carla sees me next I am shaking, exhausted, weak and sweating. I guess the third time is the charm.

It would be half an hour more before we got me out to the car for the trip home, but at least I was empty at last. I told the technicians when I first walked in their little torture chamber that I thought I was getting a bum deal.

It's a Photo Finish

So I rush to the end of my chemo marathon and I'm too pooped to post.

Thankfully, Fiona is in my cheering section when I cross.

And she brought her camera!

Please click on the post title to see Fiona's awesome tribute at the finish line.

Today and Tomorrow

The last two days of chemo...

Ever!

Happy Mother's Day!

Today is Mother's Day here in the United States.

For all you wonderful women out there, thank you. Words will never fully express my gratitude and appreciation for your contributions to the human race. We are nothing without you.

May I introduce you to Rosalyn Virginia Chamberlin?

She's my mother...

and my dad's best friend.

I love you, Mom!

P.S. Six days and counting with chemo. (This is a cancer blog, after all. :-))

Life's Little Distractions

This little distraction let me drive it home a few weeks back.

It's been living here ever since.

I've been very happy about that.

Carla says it's a very pretty car,

and a fun ride.

It's even more fun to drive.

My children are now asking me to teach them how to drive a car with a manual transmission.

And for the first time in our marriage,

so is Carla.

Go figure!

We're looking forward to our first mini road trip,

just the two of us...

Carla and me.

Michael helped me clean this beauty today,

right after I taught him how to drive it in an unused parking lot.

So now I have a car cleaning buddy and a very excited son.

Of course, I'm excited too!

The other little distraction in my life is cancer...

Can you guess which one I prefer?

I was supposed to start my sixth and last round of chemotherapy on Friday morning. Didn't happen.

Thursday was spent at the Huntsman Cancer Institute getting my lab work done, checking in with my oncology team, and visiting my ostomy nurse. I've had a skin rash around my ileostomy for the last two weeks. It even got into my naval. (Let's all say "yuck".) It itches, it seeps, it gets crusty, and it starts all over again. Daily. I was given a prescription for the rash which is helping, but Friday morning the rash decided to fight back first.

A new spot showed up all purply and puss filled. Carla immediately declared it infected and started stabbing it with a needle. Since we were changing my ostomy wafer at the time, we decided not to put the new one on for a few hours. This gave my rashy skin some air time, but it also left me and my stoma 'au naturale' for most of the morning.

The ostomy wafer sticks to my skin around the stoma and holds the plastic bag which covers it. Imagine what fun I had holding a bowl under my stoma instead, playing catch as it proceeded to process my breakfast. Makes me look forward to loosing my memory in my old age.

We do feel the medicine and the extra two days off have helped the rash calm down. Nobody wants me getting infected while on chemo. Chemo exacerbates everything it comes across. Tomorrow morning, Sunday, I'll start taking my Xeloda again. This delay will cost me two more days in May. I will now finish chemo on Saturday night, May 14th. Nothing like moving the finish line late in a race...

Not to worry, though. As much as I really don't want to go back on chemo, I really do want to get this last round started, because the next stop is the FINISH LINE!

Of life's little distractions, I have to say that my spunky little Mazda Miata found me just in time. My newest distraction definitely helps me deal with my second.