yeah its pretty intense…moments~

For so many reasons, this one is going to be tough to write. Not the least reason being, I know my most loved Handsome Husband will probably read it, and I don’t want him to be worried about me more than he is, plus writing down some of this stuff literally has the ability to make me sick to my stomach, but I also need to get it out of me.  Perhaps some emotional vomit will get me back on track?  With apologies to all my loyal readers (yes, there are thousands of you, I just know it!) for all the ramblings that may incur…

So, I now have a visceral understanding, deep in my gut, of the phrases I have so often read/heard over the years: “my stomach turned to acid”, and “hysteria bubbled to the surface.”  And, after many years of hearing people say how their appetites “just disappeared” and “they couldn’t keep anything down” it has happened to me.  A quick back-up here (cue the beeping noise)….

Friday, radiation appointment.  Last day of the first week of radiation.  Don’t like it, but didn’t expect anything out of the normal. (First mistake. Everything is out of the normal at the moment. Now we just have more out of the normal) Generally, Handsome Husband is home by mid-morning after the early morning blast of what is going to kill what is in his arm.  But I get a text that the medicals, after his blast, and seeing the wound care specialist (who was not happy with Wilson!) are sending him over to see our favorite doctor, Dr. Lackman, who was also not happy with Wilson.  It seems that, in spite of these hot shots of radiation, Wilson is continuing to grow.  Continuing to grow rapidly.  And, though this was expected, is ulcerating.  For the moment, for those of you who are not medically inclined, let’s just not talk about what “ulcerated” means, ’cause it ain’t pretty.  The rest of the morning passed with “keeping busy” being the name of the game for me, and imagination needing to be reined in.

What we learned: Wilson is, yes, growing.  This doctor, who is only one of two in the world who has expertise in this particular cancer, has never seen anything like this.  The significance of Wilson growing externally, is that the cancer is growing internally. And that is obvious when you see how more and more it (Wilson) basically needs its’own parking lot at this point. I may garble some of this, what with lacking the language, but here is my translation of what Handsome Husband learned.  Wilson needs to be given the “Hiroshima” treatment-blast the shit out of it. Surgery now will accomplish nothing-the surgery is so intricate regarding veins, tendons, plus a “flap” created from a skin graft and if that is done, then more radiation, it would destroy whatever was done but further radiation would be necessary because the cancer would still be there. So aforestated radiation is going to be upped to twice daily, 50% more power, 6 hours in between which means spending the entire day in Philly (it makes no sense and would cost more to go back and forth) for 12 days and if this doesn’t work then they go all Hiroshima and Nagasaki but what that would do is cause so much damage to Handsome’s arm and the long range effects of that massive dose of radiation as he and I discussed that he will opt instead at least where we are at the moment for amputation which is the only other possibility BIG BREATH.

Back to the beginning of this blog.  As he’s telling me this, and of course I immediately feel like a wuss, I become vaguely aware that my legs are watery, my stomach is shaky, I feel sweaty, and I want to vomit.  Deal with it, deal with it, and arc over to Sunday evening when we had a nauseating (okay, I did, Handsome didn’t) realization that bastard Wilson went to town and got something major that really made it hit a growth spurt just since the AM hours.  I won’t go into appearance here. Suffice to say, it reminds me of those nasty little pictures they used to, I swear, take pleasure in showing in our 7th grade science books of all the worst portrayals of the nastiest diseases in the world, right there for your viewing pleasure.  Then multiply all of those pictures by whatever the highest number in the universe is, and continue going all geometry and trigonometry and computing on it, and you start to get a vague idea of it. Or, maybe that’s just me, being totally and completely and stringently non-medical and all.  Bottom line for me is what this whole blog was supposed to be-knowledge of Wilson and what it looks like makes me seriously dizzy and light-headed (and not in an “Oh, I’m blonde way, but wanting to lose the last 50+ years of meals way)

I’m going to start rambling here, so will, out of mercy for all of you, put an end to this entry.  We have today, this moment, and, possibly, a few lbs to lose since the whole eating thing just isn’t happening…

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