The P Train Has Been Hijacked

Alright, ya'll. This is Ashley and I'm hijacking the P Train again. Here's the scoop. I'm all the way over on this side of the country… and my dad's all the way over on that side. He's a tough one to get the truth out of when he's doesn't have to be accountable for body language and such! But from what I hear, he sounds miserable. I mean, sure, he's still got this incredibly up-beat and optimistic attitude. Each day he tells me he's feeling better than he did the previous day. He mumbles shit about only having two weeks left, or how lucky he's been. But in reality, it sounds like what he's going through sucks. AND his fingers get sore. So that's gotta mean that typing is difficult… sooo… rather than forcing him to write to us, let's write to him. :o)

This is an open comment thread. You can write whatever you want in the comment box… Write a message to Paul and his little fan club here. Share something interesting happening in your life. Post a picture of the kids. Write a haiku. Tell a joke. Whatever, it's your thread. Have at it… for Paul's sake!

photo source

Oy vey, I need to Kfetch

This has not been one of my better weeks. The radiation/chemo is really kicking my butt. I now have a condition call neuropathy which is caused by the chemo and results in damage to my nerves in my fingers and feet. They tingle and hurt. It takes me a while now to button my shirt and to walk to the bathroom. While I am walking slowly and painfully, I can put balm on my blistered lips and swish around a mouthwash to help the sores in my mouth. I leave the bathroom to your imagination. I also cover my dry itchy body with this cream call Udderly sMOOth. It was originally designed for cows. Fortunately, I should only have 2 1/2 more weeks of this. I guess the cancer gods saved the best for last. By the way, I warned you of the nature of this post in the title. For those of you that are not familiar with Yiddish, it means Damn, I need to complain. Thank you very much. for listening

Ain't that a bitch.

It has been a very interesting day today. I woke up this morning and made my daily trek to radiation and to have my chemo bag swapped out. Things have gone pretty well with only a slight problem with itching. The radiation oncologist was real pleased with how well I am handling the treatments. At the oncologist, I met another PanCan survivor and we had a really nice conversation exchanging conditions, observations and information. It was interesting that we both felt (as I am sure many others do as well) that the infusion room is almost like a cocoon of comfort for us. It is a place to go where everyone is somewhat like each of us. Our own personal Cheers. I met with Dr. Dobovsky and he was pleased enough with my progress that he suggested we meet every two weeks instead of weekly. Feeling pleased I went home to my loving wife and our new child, Bullwinkle. I now love both the female and the male that live under my roof with me.

Anyway as I write, I am battling nausea, sores in my nose, blisters on the bottoms of my feet and rashes on my legs and back from scratching. Ain't that a bitch. I am guessing my brain just could not handle being told by the doctors that they are pleased with how well I am doing. I just had to show them that it is not wise to get overly optimistic. The good news, though, is today is Monday and on Friday we are going up to the mountains with friends for the weekend. The leaves should be starting to really change colors. I am looking forward to introducing Bullwinkle to our Western Carolina home. I know he will love it there like we do.

Thanks for letting me push the Nov 15th PanCan walk on you. I really appreciate the support and the tolerance.

A face only a mother could love!

Not sleeping very well this night so I might as well reflect some. Even though it is a small thing I keep getting caught up in the line that connects my body to the pump. I think because I know it is there I do a little more tossing and turning then normal. It was interesting to be chemofied once a week, but now I am on a slow steady drip. I would love to be able to talk to my internals to get their reaction to the last five months of treatment. White Blood Cell "I cannot believe the ongoing sacrifices we are being asked to make." Red Blood Cell "Well I will show him, I am really going to make him feel worn out and dizzy this week!" Stomach "He really is trying to make us feel better in the long run but I am tiring of constantly being surrounded by all this noxious gas. Something has to give." Intestines "It's all the Pancreas' fault. He is the one who created the problem!" Pancreas "I want to be perfectly clear about this as it is an election year. If you take a look at the overall problem, in view of the specific situation, which I have not yet fully contemplated, You can bring into focus the major factors and draw some conclusion, one way or another, and govern your actions accordingly. Now that you now my exact position, please do not cast dispersions on me again." It's tough being an organ.

On a much brighter note, Bullwinkle is incredible. He is 70 lbs. of tail thumping, wavy haired, just what the doctor ordered. I am going to step out from my normal low tech existence and see if I can add a photo at this point. Ok, you already know I got the picture over and it is at the top of the post. Isn't that a face only a mother could love. We are really excited to have him in our family. I cannot wait for you to meet him.

Last Sunday Cathy and I went to a charity event sponsored by our friend, Lenny. It was a GIST tumor fundraiser (Lenny is a survivor) and for a first time event it was a huge success. I think close to $40,000 was raised. There were lots of reasons that it was such a success but I believe most was a testament to what his friends and family think of him. Cathy and I had a blast helping out.

Check out a new link I added this post. I met a new friend about a month ago at the PanCan November 15th fundraiser walk/run. His name is Merle Hamburger. He is another pancreatic cancer survivor and he is also a blogger. His site name is taken from a Monty Python movie and broadway play. He calls his site "I'm Not Dead Yet!" Go visit. This leads me to a time for another shameless plug and request. Senator Obama has shown us that $5 here and $10 there can actually turn into millions. So if you are so inclined and would like to either join or make a contribution to The P Train Team at the PanCan walk on Nov 15th here is the link: http://www.pancan.org/purplestrideatlanta/. You can choose to either register to walk and set up you own personal donation page or donate to a participant. Our young friend , Olivia Amaral (age 7 I think) has raised $110 by herself. Every little bit helps. Thanks for even considering.

Me and my new friend, Bullwinkle are going to attempt to go back to sleep. He will have no problem. Be well.

DANGER - HIGH LEVEL OF RADIATION

I am just finishing up my first week of radiation/chemo. I have this bag/pump that has become my permanent travel companion attached to me now. It goes everywhere I do and is sometimes slung over my shoulder, sometimes strapped to my waste and sometimes lying next to me in bed. Cathy is a much better bed companion than my old gray bag. About every 15 minutes I hear a noise kinda like something is briefly being wound up. That is the pump making a chemical injection. Going to the bathroom and taking a shower have become very unique experiences. Fortunately I will only have to do this for six weeks. Others are in similar situations their whole lives. How lucky am I.
I go for radiation every week day. I now have tattoos that mark my target spot for the radiation. They place a sharpie plus sign over the tattoo. I then lay on a table with my head in a custom pillow (seriously it is customized to my head shape). I stretch my arms over my head and grab a bar. Then they line me up by using laser beams to line up with my sharpie signs. Then the fun begins. It really is not to bad. The worst part is not moving cuz I was told not to move. Obviously I do not want to be radiated in the wrong places. But I am definitely one of those people who wants to do exactly the opposite of what I am told. Every place in my body starts itching when the machine cranks up. It only lasts about 15 minutes and I manage to stay still. I always feel odd going into the radiation room. The sign on the door says "DANGER - HIGH LEVEL OF RADIATION. I say in my head "OK cancer cells do you read that sign? It is time for you guys to head for the hills." The most frustrating part of the week has been to begin the daily treatment when there was absolutely no gas to be found.

I have become an expert with the various types of fatigue. Currently I am dealing with the kind that just flat knocks you out. I am sleeping soundly for three hour blocks. I also am losing most of my hair on the top of my head. It has been coming out in clumps lately. I do not think I will be left with even a decent comb over.

The good news in all of this is that Cathy and I may possibly have a new member of the family on Saturday. His name is Bullwinkle and he is a 70 lb Chocolate Labradoodle. It is a long short story to how we met Bullwinkle and his family. I will save it until I know he is going to live with us. I must run now because one of the single most captivating events in my life is about to take place. I, along with millions and millions of you, am going to watch two people who were chosen to be in second place debate. Unfortunately, it seems like this is more of a Nascar race then a vice presidential debate. I say that because most people are watching to see the crash. Anyway I hope neither of them catch on fire.