Daddy's Home!

Noise Pollution

Mom and Dad are back home in Arlington, and today, the Schnauzers came home too. The Schnauzer hotel bill was almost as much as the bill at the RIBM, although, I bet Dr. Van Hoosier doesn't offer a complimentary happy hour four days a week. I captured some video of Jerry and the Schnauzers as they were reunited, and will try to post that very soon. The small Schnauzer, Silver, was most ecstatic. He was very Tasmanian Devil-ish--like the one on the cartoons, not the actual Tasmanian Devils in Tasmania. The medium Schnauzer, Sterling, was excited also, but it is more difficult to tell in the video because Medium Dog is blind and has a more difficult time finding people. Here is a picture of Medium Dog. (Sterling)

Medium Dog started losing his vision at the end of 2005 when Jerry was in the ICU recovering from his stroke. I'm pretty sure he's totally blind now, because he bumps into everything: Walls, people, tables, doors, toilets. I've started calling him Bumper Pool.

Jerry had blood taken today, at a lab here in Arlington. I don't think it was a lab at a doctor's office, but more like a Quest Diagnostics, which is where I send housekeeping applicants for pre-employment drug screenings. Who knew you could just drop by the local meth screening joint and get your cancer tests done? The challenge is that the results won't be ready for a couple of days, and in a couple of days, they'll be back at M. D. Anderson for the next regularly scheduled blood work anyway. The blood work was to check Jerry's Blood Urea Nitrogen (BUN) level, as well as his Creatinine, which are both measures of kidney function. These values were high when they left Houston, and had they not already removed the IVs they would have administered more fluid. All in all, I do see value in getting to come home, if even for just a few days, and especially if you get to see your dogs, but overall I think the whole blood work thing today seems like a poor utilization of time and resources.

The hardest thing for Nolie about being away from home for so long is having to share a television set, and having to watch television programs at the times they are broadcast. It seems like old times today at Case de Nolie y Jerry. Mom is in the back of the house with a couple of television sets on watching a couple of different shows at once, and Dad is in the den watching his show. The kitchen television is on and tuned to something that no one is watching, but someone was, and so it's still on. Dad has his hearing aids out, which means that his television is turned up pretty loud for him to make out all the dialogue; therefore, Mom's televisions are turned up so she can hear her shows over his. All this noise pollution is compounded by the fact that during the last major house renovation, all the carpeting was replaced with ceramic tile, or hard wood floors, neither of which absorb sound as well as pile, or for that matter, the shag that was here in the '70s that came with the house. If the phone rings, the noise pollution is off the scale, and I wouldn't be surprised if the EPA came knocking on the door. Jerry's hearing ability is so measurably low, that he qualifies for a very special phone that is very, very, loud, that the State of Texas actually paid for. When it rings it reminds me of those black and white "duck and cover" films on 8mm from elementary school.

Even with all the Schnauzer/television/air raid sounds, I know it's nice for them to be home, and it's nice to be here with them. I wish I had checked the weather forecast, though, so I could have brought a jacket to wear for Schnauzer Duty. You see, Bumper Pool isn't allowed in the back yard without adult supervision because he doesn't swim so well.

On the Road Again

I just got a call from Wayne, and they're on the road from Houston back to Arlington at the first of what will probably be many, many bathroom breaks. Bathroom breaks are good. My cousin, Cathy, and I used to spend our summers with our grandparents, Lomamma and Papa. Much of the summer was spent in the back seat of a 1977 Lincoln Town Car travelling around Texas. We did not have bathroom breaks. We had a Maryland Club coffee can. God forbid anyone complain that it's 120 degrees Fahrenheit in August in Presidio, Texas, which probably makes it about 140 degrees inside the navy blue Lincoln. This immediately launches a lecture of what life was like before cars had air conditioning. I can't wait to lecture someone's grand kids some day about how when I was growing up the only channels we had were 4, 5, 8, 11, 13, and UHF. If we wanted to change the channel, we had to stand up and walk to the television set.

I think it's been a few years since Nolie has been to Houston, because she says she has never seen the giant Sam Houston statue before.

Delaware Punch Is Gross

So, the blood work came back OK yesterday, and Dad was able to receive his second round of chemo. He's doing the last phase right now, which is the ten hour kidney flushing thing. He should be done by 4:00 a. m., at which point, both Nolie and Jerry will get to go home to Arlington. Yea! If all stays on track, his next chemo. round will be Friday January 19th.

Nolie also tells me that Jerry has had some breathing treatments, because he has been "exhaling forcefully." I'm not really sure what that means, but I like saying "exhaling forcefully." I guess the breathing treatments are meant to prevent or alleviate forceful exhalation, and it sounds as though forceful exhalation is undesirable.

Wayne is flying to Houston today so he can drive Mom and Dad back to Arlington Saturday morning, because Nolie can't drive--especially on the highway--in the "Big City." Nolie can, however, drive in the Big City to get to the outlet mall if there are no left hand turns involved. Yes, she did venture out to the outlet mall that the Cancer Friends at breakfast talked about. She was very excited because there is a Chico's at the outlet mall, and Chico's has the jeans she likes that are a size .5. This is funny, because it makes me think about the fake SNL commercial about the Mom Jeans, and also because it's another example of how women's sizes are arbitrarily assigned numbers, and are in no way related to any standardized unit of measure. Also, Chico's reminds me of El Chico, where Nolie, Jerry, and I often ate when I was younger, at Six Flags Mall. It was right across the mall from Wyatt's, and eating at El Chico was always fun.

During her outlet mall excursion, Nolie found a James Coney Island, where she used to get two hot dogs and a Delaware Punch for $.25. Now, one hot dog is $2.25. Delaware Punch is gross. I used to drink it as a kid because I thought I was supposed to like it, because Nolie likes it, but I do not like it. Delaware Punch is gross. Grapette is awesome, but I think my all time favorite is Jolt. Ask Kathleen about the time she was stuck in a car in Ireland with me for 7 days with Jolt Cola, cherry turnovers, and blue cheese. Oh yes, and mustard in a tube, which is actually a really handy idea. I don't know why we don't have mustard in a tube here in the States.

I'm not sure if Jerry will have his blood work next week done in Arlington, or Houston, but I'll keep everyone posted.

Peppercorns, Mouth Sores, and Little Sausage Chunks

Dad had more blood work done this morning, and will get the results later today when he meets with Dr. Siefker. If the blood work indicates that he has sufficiently recovered from his last round of chemo., he will begin a new round today. If not, then I'm not sure.

Jerry's first mouth sore appeared yesterday. He thought it was a peppercorn, according to Nolie, but Jerry didn't have anything to eat with peppercorns. He thought there were peppercorns in the gravy that he had with his biscuits for breakfast, but those were little sausage chunks.

There is an oral rinse that Jerry is supposed to use five or six times a day to alleviate this very thing. I believe he has been using the rinse as prescribed, so I guess it could be much worse than one mouth sore that feels or looks like a peppercorn.

I think the next thing that is supposed to happen is the hair falling out. Nolie says that it hasn't fallen out yet, but that it looks fuzzy like goose down. The hair is supposed to fall out during week three, which is next week.

That's all I know for now. I wanted to get the latest posted now because I may not have a chance to update later tonight after the appointment with Dr. Siefker.

If You're Gonna Spew, Spew Into This

Jerry has gone two nights in a row with no pain medication, and is attempting to go all day today. So far, so good, I think. I want it to mean that the tumor is smaller now than it was, and therefore, is not rubbing/pressing etc. or otherwise causing friction. I know that these days they say that effective pain management depends on taking your pain meds before you feel pain, because if you wait until you feel pain, it may be too late to ward it off, but Dad had a reason for skipping his nighttime dose two nights ago.

Dad threw up two nights ago just before bed, and I haven't really mentioned it because Mom and Dad are both pretty certain that the throwing up was not a result of chemotherapy, but rather, the result of drinking way too much water in a very short time period. Kind of like when you take a long road trip with the dog, and you don't stop at all so you can make good time. When you get there, the dog is so thirsty that he/she drinks way more water than there is room for in his/her stomach, and promptly throws up all over the floor. That's what happened to Dad. It's happened to Dumpling, Osito, Missy, Prissy, Worthington, Raider, Sterling, and Silver; and it happened to me once, except in my case it was a black cherry wine cooler at the Austin Marriott after John Doherty's wedding.

During Dad's appointment last Friday, when Annette sent Dad upstairs for IV therapy, she reiterated the need for Dad to drink at the very least, three litres of water a day. Although the printed material we were sent home with said "alcohol-free, caffeine-free," Annette said that nothing hydrates like water, and your three litres really should be water. Nolie and I walked next door to Kroger and bought Dad the new Ozarka stackable 3.0 litre Keg 'O Water. (no relation to Heinz's Keg O' Ketchup) When we showed it to Dad, and told him that was how much he needed to drink every day, he deadpanned, "you're kidding." I really don't think he had a visualization of what three litres looks like. Again, people--metric system--we're switching any day now. At the end of the day there was still quite a bit of water left in the Keg, so Nolie had him force down as much as he could. Poof. Throw-up in the sink. This is why he didn't take the pain pill: in case throwing up was going to be an all night thing. It was not. So, Dad woke up the next day--not in pain, but took his daytime pain pill just in case, but skipped the nighttime dose again. That was last night and he skipped his daytime dose today. It's 6:07 p.m. CST and Dad's still feeling pretty good.

Mom and Dad made friends today at breakfast. They are from Lake Charles, LA. He's there for some kind of transplant, and she, like Nolie, doesn't drive well in traffic. Lake Charles Lady gave Nolie some helpful hints for driving around Houston, and told her how to get to an outlet mall, since navigating to The Galleria requires left hand turns. The Lake Charles People do their bloodwork in Lake Charles so they only drive to Houston once every two weeks.

The Visa Card Panic is finally coming to an end, I think. Nolie and Jerry each have a brand new Visa card, each with their own name, but same account. Now, all Nolie has to do is notify all the vendors that auto-post to that account. Time-Warner Cable, and 24 Hour Fitness are the only ones I know about. The 24 Hour Fitness lady called Nolie and Jerry's from India the other day when I was there. I don't think the 24 Hour Fitness bill is nearly as crucial as Time-Warner. I couldn't imagine my parents' house without 87 bazillion channels. For one, I sleep there sometimes, and B. I load up their TiVos with movies that I transfer to the PC and burn to DVD so I can watch them later, because The Fooses have every movie channel known to man, including IFC and Sundance. Yes, the Fooses are T.V. people. I grew up an only child in a four bedroom house, with eight television sets if you count the one we inherited from Grandaddy when he went to live in Mansfield. I count it because although it wasn't plugged in, it wasn't broken. We didn't have a fancy stereo: just the intercom that was built-in, but we had eight television sets.

The Outsiders

Not much new to report on Jerry, but here are some general observations from my most recent visit to Houston:

There are three different types of guests at the Residence Inn by Marriott Houston Medical Center/Reliant Park. There are the Insiders, the Newcomers, and the Outsiders. The Insiders and the Newcomers are all there for the same reason. They're sick and they're there to get better. As the hotel name suggests, it is very handy to the Houston Medical Center, and the hotel operates its own shuttle, which I like to call the Cancer Van. I suppose you don't actually have to have cancer to ride in the Cancer Van, but the odds are that you, or someone you know, have something, if you're on it.

The Insiders are old pros and know all the ins and outs of getting around. For example, they know that the Mays Clinic, on the M. D. Anderson campus, has only been called the Mays Clinic for a few months. It was previously known as the ACB building, and is also sometimes referred to as Entry Number Seven. This information is important to know when you call the Cancer Van to come pick you up, because some of the Cancer Van Captains still call the Mays Clinic the ACB building.

It's alot like the pubs in Wexford, Ireland. Let's say that Flannigan owned a pub for many years and called it Flannigan's, then sold his pub to O'Leary. Well, of course, the first thing O'Leary does is change the name to O'Leary's, which includes putting up a brand new shiny sign. Twenty-five years later, the locals all still call it Flannigan's, which is fine, because I still call Foley's Sanger-Harris, even though it's Macy's now.

It is also similar to the Cat Room at Nolie and Jerry's house. Cats have not lived at Nolie and Jerry's house for quite some time, but there is still a room called the Cat Room. A more accurate name for the room would be the Junk Room, or the Gift Wrapping Room, or even sometimes Lomamma's Room (my grandmother), but it's still called the Cat Room because that's the room where Mama Cat had her kittens when I was in the ninth grade. Today, in the Cat Room, while looking for wrapping paper, I discovered yet another sphygmomanometer bringing the grand total of sphygmomanometers owned by Nolie and Jerry to four.

Newcomers quickly graduate to Insiders, as Nolie and Jerry have. You can tell that you've graduated when you learn that you need to call for the Cancer Van while you're still up on the eighth floor, not once you've come down to the valet parking stand; the hotel employees recognize you by name; and you no longer need to print directions to get from the Diagnostic Center to the Genitourology Center. Also, if you know all the other dog guests by name, that's a big clue.

There are not always Outsiders around. The Outsiders come and go in groups. The most recent group of Outsiders were the Kansas State fans. Gobs of purple sticking out at breakfast and happy hour amongst the mask wearing Cancer People. The Purple Outsiders shove up to the front of the line, cause bottlenecks at the waffle station, and pile up more food on their plates than they can possibly eat, leaving much to waste. Portion control people, don't they still practice that in the residence halls? They are loud, boisterous, and up all hours of the night with way more people in each room than local occupancy laws allow. Hey, I was a punk college kid once. I get it. I'm just not one anymore.

Jerry's next big day is Thursday, when he will have more bloodwork done to make sure he's OK for another round of chemo. to begin on Friday.