Introduction

Welcome to “Nothing New.” The goal of my blog in the past has been to stimulate discussion about all things related to CBC, the Christian life, and the world at large. But it has recently been hijacked by my cancer and treatment. This means I have to eat some crow (which I hate) because early on I boldly claimed I would not allow my condition to take center stage in my life.

But it is taking center stage on my blog – for a while. I am rather torn about this development. I am uncomfortable making this all about me – because it’s not. It is strangely therapeutic for me to blog about this, however, and I cannot express even a fraction of my appreciation for everyone who reads and leaves their funny, weird, and /or encouraging words in comments and emails.

So please join with me in dialogue. I always look forward to reading your comments. (If you'd like to follow my cancer journey from day 1, please go to my post on 6/25/08 - Life Takes Guts - in the archives and follow the posts upwards from there.)

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

A Day in the Life...

At the end of this round of chemotherapy, I will have been in the hospital for 30 of the last 41 days. I’ve done some Geraldo-like investigative research and some sophisticated statistical analysis. My conclusion? That is just a lot of time to spend in the hospital. So for your own education (and perhaps in a lame attempt to gain a little bit of sympathy), here’s a day in my life at the hospital.

9:40 a.m. – Admitted to the hospital for round 7
10:00 – Nurse takes vital signs (blood pressure, temperature, heart-rate, respiration rate, pain level) and reviews orders for this week.
10:30 – Since one of my chemo meds can be terribly hard on a person’s bladder, another drug (Mesna) and LOTS of saline fluids are started to neutralize those side effects.
10:40 – I watch a little bit of college basketball on ESPN’s 24 hour marathon. Penn has a decent match-up zone defense, but Drexel looks to be too much for them.
11:00 – Anti-nausea medication and steroids are started through my IV. If I just had some weights here, I could lift and get ripped. But then I might get ‘roid rage and stab a nurse with a syringe. That wouldn’t be good for my care – so I’ll skip all that.
11:15 – I write and post something short to my blog. I promise something ridiculous like “I’ll post something every day.” What was I thinking?
11:45 – Penn is keeping the game close.
11:50 – I have to use the restroom. They make me collect my urine in a modified ½ gallon milk jug so they can measure my inputs/outputs. It’s weird. And a little gross, I guess.
12:00 noon – Lunch is delivered. Chix-n-dressing. Eeewwww.
12:05 – Jayme stops by before she grabs lunch. We had a nice visit. I’m letting the chix-n-dressing get cold. On purpose.
12:15 – Mo is my hero. He calls and then delivers a Big Mac meal for lunch. We visit for a while, too.
12:30 – Cytoxin is started. Cytoxin is a good chemotherapy drug for my condition, but it has an unfortunate side effect of possibly raising the risk of other kinds of cancer months to years later. Additionally, here are some side effects I am supposed to be aware of and watch for: nausea/vomiting/diarrhea, hair loss, darkening of skin/nails, pink/bloody urine, unusual decrease in the amount of urine, mouth sores, unusual tiredness or weakness, joint pain, easy bruising/bleeding, infertility, existing wounds that are slow healing.
12:30 – I try not to think about all the possible side effects while the nurse takes my vitals. I distract myself by listening to some classic 80’s tunes on my mp3 player.
12:40 – Nurse takes my vitals again.
12:55 – Nurse takes my vitals again again.
1:00 – Kyle and David stop by. Kyle is the Discipleship Pastor and David is the Chairman of the deacons at church. So we spend our time singing some hymns together and translating the original Greek found in the book of Romans. We definitely do not waste our time cutting up, telling jokes, and sharing funny stories.
1:45 – I have to use the milk jug again.
1:55 – My IV pump starts beeping and I have to call the nurse to check it. It could be out of medication, have air bubbles in the lines, or something else. Who knows.
2:00 – I surf the web, update my facebook page, and check email.
2:30 – Greg stops by for a short visit.
2:50 – I try to avoid thinking about my spinal tap that is scheduled for tomorrow.
3:00 – I watch a couple of episodes of NCIS on cable. Gibbs is cranky but cool. DiNozzo is crude but funny. David is pretty but scary with her crazy ninja-skills. McGee is likeable but goofy, kinda like Gilligan. Ducky is British and long-winded with obscure stories. Abs is cute in a creepy-Goth kind of way. It’s one big happy dysfunctional family and it’s a good show.
4:00 – Milk jug.
5:00 – Dinner is delivered. Ham sandwich, Lay’s chips, and chocolate chip cookies. Although I requested this instead of the meatloaf, I’m not really going to eat it. Shanda will bring me something later this evening. (By the way, the two words “meat” and “loaf” should never be used together.)
5:20 – I surf some more.
5:30 – I decide that my next blog post should be a “day in the life” post and begin writing. I’m sure I’m forgetting some things, but I keep writing anyway.
5:40 – Beeping IV pump. Call nurse.
6:30 – Shanda calls and agrees to bring some Taco Bell. This is good because I’m getting hungry. 2 tacos, 2 beef meximelts, and a baja blast. Mmmm…. fake but good Mexican food.
6:35 – Milk jug me, Amadeus.
6:40 – Fall asleep until Shanda gets here. Dream of playing the keytar in the studio – laying down some tracks with M.C. Hammer.
8:10 – Although Shanda and I are enjoying each other’s company and catching up on the day’s events, I have to kick her out of the room because the North Carolina Tarheels are playing the Kentucky Wildcats and she isn’t too interested in college basketball.
8:15 – I’m glad that the game is being played in the Dean Dome and not Rupp Arena. Kentucky isn’t that good this year (yet), but Rupp Arena is a tough place to play and Psycho T & Ginyard aren’t in the game for the Tarheels tonight.
8:30 – I think about why I am a Tarheel fan. Dad was stationed at an Air Force base in North Carolina when I was born. He raised me to be a Tarheel fan ever since then. Thanks, Dad, for not raising me to be a Duke fan instead. *Shiver.*
9:05 – Check email and facebook because the game is getting out of hand.
9:20 – Tarheels 45. Wildcats 29. 17:10 left to go in second half. Barring injuries, I’m watching the 2009 National Champions.
9:25 – The Sharif don’t like it. Rock the milk jug. Rock the milk jug.
9:35 – Work on this blog post, mostly by googling for a good picture of a keytar.
9:37 – Wonder how some words like Google get turned into verbs. Who gets to decide that?
9:55 – Vital signs.
10:05 – Since the game is still out of hand, I walk my 21 laps around the hallways and nurse’s station (this equals 1 mile). My legs get tired and a bit wobbly. I feel a sense of accomplishment that is short-lived, because, really,… what kind of accomplishment is walking a measly 1 mile? I’m tired of feeling weak and puny and I’m ready to get back into shape when all of this is done.
10:45 – Watch some SportsCenter and check email/facebook.
11:00 – My pump is beeping. Call the nurse.
11:05 – Gonna rock down to milk jug avenue.
11:20 – Watch last week’s episode of NCIS that I missed. Netflix is awesome.
12:00 midnight – Get ready to go to bed. Sweet dreams (are made of milk jugs.)
12:30 – I fall asleep.
2:00 – Nurse comes in to take vital signs and start another dose of Cytoxin. I’m awake for quite a while. I don’t really know why, but this has happened at the beginning of some other rounds and it could be due to the steroids. I was a little wired and couldn’t turn my brain off.
2:15 – Vital signs again.
2:20 – 99 Luftmilkjugs.
3:00 – Still awake and thinking…. about my next blog entries, about an article I have to submit today to a local newsletter about faith and cancer, about Shanda dealing with a broken refrigerator at home, about my spinal tap tomorrow (darnit), about whether my student posse will visit me Thursday night, and a whole host of other random events/ideas.
3:30 – Finally fall back asleep.
4:30 – My pump is beeping. I call the nurse and she checks to see if Cytoxin is almost finished running. I’m awake for just a little bit, but not as long as before. I’m amused as I fall back asleep because I remember the time a few rounds ago that I called a nurse in the middle of the night (and in a half-stupor) and told her that “my bump was peeping.” There was some awkward silence on the intercom, but she eventually came. I have no idea what that phrase means, but it sounds funny.
5:15 – My pump is beeping again. Nurse comes in again. Cytoxin is finished. Nurse takes vital signs again.
5:20 – Owner of a lonely milk jug.
6:00 – Nurse comes in and draws several vials of blood for morning labwork.
7:15 – I wake up for good as the sun rises over the building next door and starts beaming directly into my eye. I turn the TV on and surf the sports and news channels.
7:50 – Nurse’s aide takes vital signs.
7:55 – Karma Chamilkjug.
8:30 – Doctor makes rounds and checks me out. I get a good report for the day.
8:45 – Work on this post, which has become far too long and tedious.
9:20 – Wash up in the bathroom. I only take regular showers every few days because it is quite the hassle to tape my chest all up with waterproof plastic and tape. Otherwise I use soapy water in a basin and a washcloth to get clean. I miss my showers.
9:30 – Since I shouldn’t walk much this afternoon or evening (after my stupid spinal tap) I put a few laps in this morning.

That’s a day in my life (while at the hospital). Now that I’m finished, I’m not sure what purpose it served, really. But there you go.

16 comments:

Jenni said...

Hey Aaron,
This post was very entertaining. I have some observations:

-You and I are on the same bathroom schedule except I think now that I am 7 months along I go more than you. Lucky for me there is no milk jug involved.

-I won't get started on meatloaf. I am thinking I should start an anti meatloaf group on Facebook. It is SO wrong on so many levels.

-Your next show should be: Saved by the Bell. You will learn lots of life lessons.

-The time has come for you to become a Hogs basketball fan. Enough said.

Jenni

Anonymous said...

Yikes! I feel much sympathy! I don't know how you can be so happy and friendly after all your lack of sleep!

Unknown said...

i'm totally with you on the meatloaf....meat should never come in loaf form.

and i'm very impressed that you could take some many 80's song titles and work in the words "milk jug."

Heather said...

Aaron- I am glad this round is underway and thankful there is just one more after this. We are praying for you.
P.S. We can always bring you any fast food you are wanting at any time...just call!!!

Anonymous said...

.......I love meatloaf..

Anonymous said...

meatloaf thursday for lunch, then. got it. dh

Peas on Earth said...

Purpose? Yes, it served a purpose. :-)

david b mclaughlin said...

hmmmm-enough about you,

i'm wondering what it would look like if i wrote down everything i did for a day.

Anonymous said...

How in the world can you mix in 80's music with milk jugs, but not drop a meatloaf/milkjug combo with an "I would do anything for milk jugs... but I won't do that" classic?

I think the chix are getting to you man.

-sk

Aaron New said...

Scott, you are a genius.

Rachel Whittingham said...

I'm impressed with many things: your perseverance, your ability to laugh, your continual blog posts that speak equally of faith, hope and frustration -- (the last one makes them exceptionally realistic). But most of all, I am impressed that you managed to work "Milk Jug" into so many 80's songs. That's just genius and downright hilarious and if the circumstances weren't just a little sad then I think it would be a joke that could last you the rest of your life. It'd probably be in poor taste to say things like: "It's a cruel milk jug," and "Is this burning an eternal milk jug," or remind you that "The milk jug is high but you're holding on," or that you've been "Waiting, for a milk jug like you.."

Yeah, definitely poor taste.

As always -- lots of prayers for you and Shanda.
Rachel

P.S. It seems to me you've lived your life like a milk jug in the wind.

andy titus said...

I'm thinking that this post is about how every jug has it's thorn. Well put my friend.

I love NCIS as well and agree with you sumation of the characters. I hate missing that show, along with The Unit on Sunday nights. You might try that one as well.

Anonymous said...

Aaron,
It was interesting and enlightening to see how you spend a day though you're probably a bit sick of it by now. (deliberate understatement) I bet it went a tad faster trying to keep track of everything! You've still got your sense of humor and you made me LOL and that's worth a lot in my book.

Paul
p.s. Just think-someday you will again be one of the Men Without Milk Jugs! (I bent the rules and didn't use a song title)

Anonymous said...

The one that made me LOL was Rock Down to Milk Jug Avenue, in case you were wondering....
Paul

Anonymous said...

From one author to a cancer patient: Write a "Christian professor deals with his cancer" book. You're funny. You mix honest with downright inappropriate (as in kicking your wife out of your hospital room so you can watch college basketball). Save all this crap you're writing on your blog and turn it into chapters. Or little shorts, like an Anne Lamott book. You can become rich (not) and famous (so not).

Anonymous said...

So I am reading this at work and I start laughing out loud when I read your comment about the bump peeping...
Praying for you and the family
-Elizabeth Gunnels

P.S.--meatloaf is awesome!