Early Autumn 2020
Early Autumn 2020
In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril, Amlodopine, Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo: A Little Too Soon To Say: Jackson Browne
Thought that I might recapitulate my status insofar as my cancerous body is concerned. I tangentially wander off from directly assessing my health from time to time, and some have been asking if I am truly alright, or trying to perfect my avoidance techniques. I assure you that I am not evading my cancer, and my treatments. And I have absolutely no apprehensions about talking about life, love, cancer or death. They are all a part of me. And maybe some of you, as well.
There is no doubt that my cancers have dominated my life for some thirty years. And that, you will understand, can make a person a little weary. It is also a reality that I continue to spend far too much of my time in the hands of my surgeon. For many of you who have experienced cancer directly, or through a family member, you are aware how cancer preys not just on your physical body, but how much it can unhinge one's mental state. Some cancers are painful. Many times to the extreme. Sadly, many of the treatments can be equally devastating, and some leave a trail of side effects, which can live with you for the remainder of your life.
It would be untrue to tell you that I have not been bounced about from time to time. The chemotherapies have been horrific. Radiation had unpleasant results and immunotherapy caused me intestinal grief. Some residual effects will stay with me forever. We have experienced as much pain, pity and mental stress in this lifetime as one might ever want. All that is true. As much as we are in the midst of unrelenting and irritating skin surgeries, these are a day at the beach.
Since the large excision of another melanoma on my left forearm, in July, all the other bits and pieces which have been excised, have been either basil or squamous cell carcinomas. They can develop into something worse, if left untreated, but my friends at Moffitt Cancer, will not let that happen.
On Thursday afternoon, I received the pathology reports regarding the sites on my left arm and on the left thigh. The thigh surgery was deep and thorough, and I was left with no contaminated margins. That is the good news. The arm, however, still has issues on the surrounding skin. On my next visit, on the 29th, we will discuss and agree on a plan of action. As I see it, having gone through similar occurrences, we can re-excise the area, going deeper and wider, or put that section "on the bench". Watch it, and when and if it shows some activity, then take action and operate.
We have planned, on Tuesday's operations, to remove cancerous spots on my right thigh, arm and shoulder. Depending on how those sites are handled, and the extent of the surgeries, I will determine whether or not to go ahead with a surgical re-do on my left forearm. From the beginning, Dr. Harrington wanted to do the procedures under general anesthetic, but, as I previously mentioned, I wanted them done with local numbing. Knowing the doctor as I do, on that basis, I believe he will not want to do any more cutting than planned. Too hard on the body. So, likely we will stick with the original plan. Coincidently, the one which I wanted.
In the meantime, we are enjoying the healing time from the last surgery. The swelling and scarring on my leg have almost disappeared and the wound looks very good. If only the rest of me would follow suit.
The divot taken from my left arm is a question mark. I removed the bandage and it is not pleasant sight. The question will be whether the area will properly heal, as cancer still exists in the surrounding area.
I am loving life. Obviously I did not follow doctor's orders and rest for three weeks. I played golf four days after the surgery, and have done that, yard work and housework, all at my regular schedule. Kat and I share kitchen duties, and we are both having fun times with our great experimentations. So far there has been much laughter and few, if any, complaints.
After I prepare breakfast at Chez Robbo, the teacher heads off to school before 8, each morning. The menu is prix fix and the choice, each day, is at the pleasure of the executive chef. Typically, eggs, poached or scrambled, toast or English muffins, jam and honey, orange juice and aromatic coffee are offered. The menu is given orally, usually in bastardized French, with a strong and distinctively snooty accent. I am well suited for this role, if I say so myself. And I just did, didn't I?
And there is often a hint of the old marketing mind in the adjectival descriptors. Scrambled eggs are presented as "Les Oeuffs Scramblé". The French word for scrambled is bruillé, but my English peasant customers prefer words they find easily translatable. At least that is what I tell this customer, who was educated, as were our girls, in French schools. But this is, after all, my game and my rules. I pretend she does not know better. And she lets me. And she smiles. And she is happy.
The only option left for the cafe's only customer would be, "take it or leave it". And that has never been a consideration for my guest. She is always most appreciative. And she often gives me her tips, later, in other ways. (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)
Then, at 8, after she leaves, the television gets shut down for the day. That is for my mental health. What little there is left of it. I find my world much more comforting than that presented by the media. I read. I write. I sort and re-sort and am taken to other places and times by my copious collections of music and pictures.
Tuesday morning I return to Moffitt and the next round of surgeries. Not fun, granted. But necessary. At least for the near term. At some point, we will concede the surgical option and live with whatever cancer remains. Other than my lymphoma, which has chosen, thankfully, to remain idle and not require attention, our lives are blessed. We are managing to thoroughly enjoy our time together.
Thankfully, fall has returned to Florida and the weather will improve this week. They are predicting mid-80's . How nice is that?
Sports has returned with a vengeance. Tampa is a hockey-crazed city. Our baseball team is winning, and barely gets a mention on sportscasts. Tom Brady (love him or hate him) is guiding the Bucs in the NFL. And sports fans here just love them. But still.....it is all about hockey. Kath and I, and about a million other people, have become ridiculously addicted.
Hope you are all finding your way through this pandemic.
If you get a chance, listen to the song. It is definitely a covid song. And really good.
And in closing this week -"Roll Tide". Our team is back and looking good.
Next week, my friends....
Thank you, as always.
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