Slam, bam, thank you ma'am

"Let no grass grow under your feet," that's what I always say. I came home from Club Sunnyside on Monday. Yesterday (Thursday) I had my first blood draw for stat labs since I was discharged, and before the results were posted, I got emails indicating I am already scheduled for my next visit to the Club. I have appointments for all my blood work and a pre-admission consultation with the oncology nurse practitioner. I also got an email directing me to schedule a Covid screening test. I haven't made that appointment yet, simply because the options for scheduling require me to go to another medical office. Since I will be having blood drawn at the Skyline Medical office on the very day that I am directed to have the Covid test, I will request to have them done at the same visit. 

It's odd how experience shapes perception. I have had a harder time with the aftermath of the chemo this round. It's not that I feel ill, I am just weaker and have experienced more light-headedness and ataxia this time round. So, for all of these plans to be already in place within three days of my last hospital discharge is a bit dizzying. 

My read on the situation is that I have been tolerating the chemotherapy well enough that the medical team is fully confident that I can do another round. "Might as well schedule the old boy up for it; he's done it before and skated through it like Apolo Ohno chasing gold." Now, I just need to make sure my body comes through and rebounds from the last round in time to make it all happen. I have confidence that will happen. I've done it before; I can do it again. I think that's called "Can Do Spirit" or something like that!

Last evening, I felt better than I had for the first two days of my at-home interlude, and this morning I have continued to feel pretty good. I had so been hoping that yesterday's labs would show I needed a transfusion, but they didn't. Had that been the case, it is likely I would be receiving a transfusion today, and that always makes me feel better. 

Now, however, it appears that my body is simply processing out the Cytarabine and needs time to rebound on its own. Evidence for this idea comes in the form of my old pal, weight loss. I have dropped eight pounds since I have been home, in spite of consuming three or more liters of water daily and eating that Chicago stock yards diet that Jill so lovingly prepares for me.

I'm hoping we can attempt a walk today. Even my favorite recliner gets a bit confining, when I am stuck in it all day. The other consideration is that, at long last, there is rain in the forecast, and significant rain. It's hard to find information on the internet about when we last had measurable rain, but I read that as of August 3, 2021 it had been over 50 days since we had rain. That means it has now been over 95 days. I don't want to hear about how "it always rains in Oregon." When you live on a well, every drop is precious. 

On the other hand, walking in the rain, while pleasant and something we are prepared to do, presents certain special considerations for those of us who are, shall we say, "temporarily less than sure-footed?" So, I would love to take a walk this morning before the pavement is wet. The rain is due this evening. We shall see what happens. In any event, it looks like our valley is going to receive a heavenly gift in the next forty-eight hours. What was that I wrote in another post about learning to dance in the rain? Let the dancing commence. 

"But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. ⁴⁶ For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?" (Matthew 5:44-46, emphasis added)