Update from Hotel Deja Vu

Actually, I am in room 3406 at Presbyterian/St. Luke's Hospital in Denver. But . . . for all practical purposes it could be Cheyenne Regional Medical Center or any other institution occupied by nurses creeping silently by in their crocs and tennies, patients roaming the hallways accompanied by a very quiet, skinny friend and the food and nutrition workers who roll their carts up and down the uneven surfaces of the hallways.

My particular room is neither large nor small. It is neither nice nor dowdy. It is a simple box with windows on one side. The view is of a concrete courtyard and my windows are precisely disected by a yellow refuse tube through which scads of old ceiling tiles, sheetrock and other building materials shoot as the floor above this one is being remodeled.

I finished that first chemo drug on Friday last week and then the second one started. It was called cytoxin. I know how it earned its name. It is highly toxic and after the first dose, the patient has been mutated into a one-eyed, gagging, puking, moaning monster. Not having partied too hard since college (exception WACO - Casper - Jerry Orr, Susan and I shot for shot) I had forgotten the myriad of flourescent colors that enhance otherwise mustard brown bile.

A continuous regimen of anti-nausea drugs has kept the cycloptic puker at bay.

My "birthday" (the day I received the cells from my donor) was at 1:00 a.m. on Wednesday, December 10, 2009. I knew ahead of time that my donor was a 22 year old male. I was worried for quite a while that he would share things in common with my 22 year old son --- particularly a love for independent punk music. Well, the cellls were flown in from Germany, so my taste for music might lean a little more toward techno and my beer of choice may go from a good old red beer to some "dark lager."

One of my coping mechanisms is to visualize with games. When I was having the chemo, I was playing pac man. The chemo were the little men chomping up all my bad cells. Now I am playing tetris where I watch as all the bone marrow building blocks fit down into my bones to settle as a well-functioning puzzle. I also visualize that those cells are giving my body the wherewithall to leave this experience looking like Heidi Klum. The mind can be a dangerous thing,

All in all things are going well. My biggest complaint is being tired. I kept saying I would need a nice, long rest after the election and so it seems I am in the place to get it.

As always, thank you all for your positive thoughts, prayers, and good vibrations. Knowing you are out there pulling for me helps me keep my mission at the forefront of my mind.