Well, it’s Saturday, 4 days after his last infusion. He’s still crippled with pain, balance is off, not sleeping. If this infusion runs the same course as his last one, by tomorrow he’ll feel considerably better.
His Cycle has changed, so now he’s getting infusions Day one (last Tuesday) and day 15, so he skips next Tuesday. He’ll continue on that schedule apparently for several more weeks, though it does depend on his response, determined by the endless blood work he gets when he goes in.
He has 10 days of work scheduled starting next Monday that was work Sheri had lined up weeks ago and now can’t do, so he will. It’s not too taxing apparently, but even so, I’m worried about his ability to withstand the labor, especially knowing that some of those days after work he’s going to see Sheri in the hospital before he comes home so he won’t stagger in till 8.00pm or so, after leaving the house around 7.30am to start his work day.
It’s good that he wants to push through and not succumb to the cancer, the pain, the emotional and mental toll. We have a 75 year old friend who was diagnosed with prostate cancer within days of Ron’s diagnosis. Chip’s hasn't metastasized, he doesn’t require chemo, he’s getting radiation and his prognosis is good. Still, he’s deeply depressed, morose, going to see his chaplain several times a week, convinced he’s terminal no matter what the doctors say.
I’m grateful Ron’s outlook is so upbeat and positive. He’s a realist as am I, so he’s aware that the best his team can do is keep the cancer under control until they just can’t anymore, but he’s determined to wring as much fun and positivity and activity out of life as he can, for as long as he can.
Nonetheless I worry when he pushes himself as hard as he does.