OK. I’m going to make a special effort tonight to elaborate a little on what’s going on. Most of what’s occupying my every breathing moment relates to managing the side-effects of the interferon. I wish I had something to say about things happening spiritually or intellectually, but there’s not much there. At least anything I can discern. I know God is present in all this, even if I’m not able right now to sense him.
This treatment has really stupefying effects on me. It’s now 9:30 p.m. and I’m actually feeling pretty good. It’s taken hours since the infusion, however, for me to pull myself together. I had terrible chills again today that left me nearly paralyzed on the couch for more than an hour. It appears I can expect to have these chills daily, which is a really daunting prospect. At least I avoided the fever today.
I had blood drawn again this morning to check on the liver enzymes, and they had stabilized so my oncologist decided to keep me on the program. Lucky me. This isn’t getting any easier, but I’d like to find a way to get through this. I couldn’t be doing this without Ellen’s love and support. There’s much more to be said on that too, but it will need to wait. I’m hoping to get out of this mental fog long enough to write something more intelligible later on.
4 comments:
Peter,
Don't try to fight the mental fog right now. You need all of your strength for fighting the cancer. We can wait for words. Be strong. Ellen, hold him tight and fend off the chills. Love to you both.
Peter,
I have been reading your blog daily and have been holding you in my thoughts and prayers. I was encouragded by how well your body handled the interferon the first week, but it is obvious that the cumulative effects of the drug is now taking it's toll. Hang in there my friend. I know it's not easy, but God will see you through these difficult days.
I am on my knees brother!
Kevin
Peter greetings,
It's good to have another medium to keep up with your thoughts as you go through this health-care valley. At times like this there is little that words can express since the view from the outside is so much easier than the reality of your daily view through the mirror. Perhaps what you say is true in that you now know a little better what to expect and that in and of itself may be good. On the other hand, your body may adjust to the assault over time and surprise you. From outside Michelle and I continue to uphold you and the family in prayer and conversation where we can. The mental discipline that you have acquired over the last several years through your marathon runs I know will help to give you the grit that is no doubt needed as you continue treatment.
Regards,
Dennis and Michelle
Peter,
I'm really sorry to hear that things haven't improved this week, but encouraged that you've hung in there--as bad as it sounds, I'm not sure I could have. Keep your eye on the end goal--by tomorrow night you'll be halfway home. And, who knows? Maybe things will actually improve to the point where they were toward the end of week 1. I believe God will give you all that you need as you navigate these waters. Hang in there my friend,
Steve
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