 ©1999-1999 ICFTP What're you, kidding? |
27 May 1999: Day Four on the Unit:
Man, is this cool or what? BIG shout-outs to Mark, who donated his old Stumblecam to l'il ole me. So now you guys can always get your fix of my shiny head. Or at least my room.
If you somehow ended up here instead of my splash screen, head back to www.porch.org and check out the spiffy new more-or-less live TreyCam™... maybe soon you can catch me yakkin'! It updates once a minute, and I have no idea how well it works with anything but Netscape. Enjoy!
Update on Trey's condition: I feel pretty good right now, but this morning was NOT an experience I'd like to repeat. Woke up yukky, got some Ativan, felt a bit better. I was sitting in front of the computer earlier and got hit with what fely like a soft, padded, but VERY firm wall of nausea. It brought me to my knees, nurse at my side, bucket before me. I didn't yack. Barely. Don't wanna feel that again, pretty sure I will.
I managed to eat a little, and that's cool. They're gonna start me on some new anti-nauseal today. Hope it works. The other stuff, Zofran, was giving me killer headaches.
I think I'm doing fine from a doctor's point of view... in other words, dying according to schedule. Creepy feelin, ya'll. Got lots of mail coming in, and lots of folks to talk to on IM, and ya'll are the best. I wouldn't want to try this without ya'll, so keep it up. Thanks.
If I make it through this day, only got one more day of this particular chemo. Then two days of a different one and I'm done. If I've said this before and am repeating myself, well, that's fine. It's what I'm keeping in my head. I HATE being nauseated.
Dreamed last night that I shot some guy four times with a pump shotgun (and cut my hand up good in the process), totally blew him away. People applauded. Then made me clean it up. I blew his head off, and he was wearing a coal-scuttle helmet... but when I went to clean him up, it was a big steel pot full of spaghetti on the floor where his head should've been. Later in the dream, I crossed a long bridge towards a huge city (this is a recurring theme in my dreams for some reason) and approached the huge contruction machinery on the other side. As I stepped up on the boulder that had halted them, I caught the motion of someone rising with a bow and arrow in hand. Seconds later I felt a solid THUNK and was spun around and knocked down, stars exploding in my head. I realized immediately that the archer had hit me, and that I should have ducked as soon as I saw the motion. As I fell, I hoped I would die before the pain struck me, and thought to myself how wrong it was to end things like this.