Staying Down for the Count

Wow! It's been two memorable weeks since I last blogged. Once again I'm asking myself why I've taken so long to get back to this. Last time the delay was from fear of repeating the same old symptoms and side effects. This time it was simple lack of will. I was down, way down. No energy, no interest in anything except the foetal position, whining more than a husband with a head cold, meaner than a spurred horse without hay, but propped up, at least for five days, by a cattle prod of prednisone. I didn't want to write anything and if I had, there would have been nothing in it to make a person happy!

The wicked culprit in my current druggy adventure was rituximab, which required a 'slow drip' procedure to administer. We arrived at the clinic about 10 am and struggled home again at 5:30. It was long, stressful and exhausting with a many minutes of boredom. We took a chair deep inside the clinic with window views to the parking lots on one side and all the comings and goings of the clinic on the other. My numerous trips to the bathroom, pushing my five-wheeled intravenous machine, required careful negotiation of obstacles. We read the news, played rummy, sorted videos that we never watched, fiddled with the ipod, ate many snacks, fed our parking meter and chatted off and on with volunteers and nurses. Time passed. Patients came and went. We stayed on and on while my body gradually absorbed a quart or so of rituximab. "We can't go too quickly," the nurse said. "We need to keep an eye on you."

I was fortunate. I never suffered the frightening side effects that many endure. Several times I was asked if I had tightness in my chest or shortness of breath. "Usually I can look around the room and pick out the people on rituximab," the nurse commmented. "They're heads are down and they're asleep." Joan and I were in the middle of a card game.

The next day, Tuesday, wasn't too bad. I downed my final prednisone pill. Wednesday afternoon the fatigue began to settle in. I was down for the count and each count was a day. The slump seemed an endless repetition of tossing, sweaty nights, and near comatose days filled with inactivity. Today, I'm a sluggish bear emerging once again into light and life.


Let's get on with all the interesting things in our lives. Our children and grandchildren, our TV shows, our lovely food, our bursting Spring yards, our news of flu, politics and weather, our email, Facebook, Twitter and blogs. Let's celebrate our lives and our freedom. Let's live and let live.