Hubby's been blithely saying "It's all good, life is good," and I've been snapping, "No, it's not!" Today he realized why.
His pain is gone.
After the second round of chemo, all the pain that has been swamping his body from every joint and muscle has been reduced to the part of his spine that is currently degenerating and the major tumor under his pancreas. And to him, that is nothing.
He was sitting cross-legged in bed. He hasn't been able to do that in over a decade because of pain.
He saw his pain doc today. Everyone was going "what the hell?" because on the "how bad is your pain today?" chart, he put 1. He's normally at 7-8.
His pain doc is agog. He doesn't normally deal with people in active chemotherapy, he had no idea this was possible. The cancer docs don't track long-term pain. It looks like some component of the DHAP chemo that crosses the brain barrier rebooted his pain centers, disconnecting the memory of all the old injuries, leaving only the active problems.
So the pain doc is going to get read in on how the pain is reacting to the chemo. And hoping this could be a permanent cure to Hubby's pain.
That's amazing, Connie. A strange blessing in the middle of all this.
My uncle went from a returning from a robust trip to visit his grandsons to a ride up his favorite CO peaks to "huh, don't feel so good, cold?" to a potential pneumonia diag at the local hospital and put on a vent to ambulanced to Denver where they discovered aggressive cancer to home to hospice to die within 10 days. He never knew he had cancer, they chose not to tell him. It wouldn't have made a difference. There was some talk of treatment, but nothing that would have bought him the same week before. It was brutal for the family, but the kindest for him.
And then there's my cousin who got the non-hodgkin's lymph diag right around the time my uncle died. (Shockingly, he didn't tell us right away... bonus fuck you to ACA opponents: he ignored the signs something was untoward for a couple months because he wasn't vested to have health insurance yet. Makes me scream. ) His particular strain of follicular lymphoma is not technically curable, but it is treatable with a good quality and quantity of life.
So many paths.
Connie, that's just....wow. Someone oughta make him their patient zero in their research.
Connie, that's amazing. And I'm sure welcomed, regardless of the mechanism.
I'm watching Frontline right now, and it's about the horrifying sexual scandals inside the highest levels of the Catholic Church. Many of which I'd heard of, but so much more powerful to see the faces of the men and women making these accusations.
Yikes. It's awful, and heartbreaking.
I'm concerned that Connie's husband may have entered a Mira Grant novel. Are you sure he hasn't taken any experimental parasites? Because that is incredibly. And incredibly wonderful. Unexpected chemo bonus! (Never thought I would ever say that without extreme sarcasm.) May he (and you) enjoy that pain reboot for many years to come.
I keep telling him to keep an eye out for super powers.
As a palate cleanser while watching this horrifying expose about the Vatican:
[link]
Before and after pictures of people and their pets. SO CUTE.
