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.