Mets Day 39 - almost like a vacation

After a lousy night's sleep last night - lots of tossing and turning, each time feeling like my SP tube was being pulled from my abdomen - at about 6:30 am I migrated to a recliner and tried to doze.  At about 9:30 I gave up.  I still can't get in my hot tub as long as I have tubes coming out of my body, so I am precluded from a key part of my morning ritual.  I compensate by taking exceptionally long showers - the only time that I am free of gauze and bandages and pads and uncomfortable non-breathable disposable underwear. 

With no obligation to go into work, I puttered around the house, sipping a protein shake, reading the newspaper, and continuing to sort through three weeks of mail and magazines.  At about 1:30 pm, as I sat in a recliner in front of my TV, surfing between Sports Center and other channels before finally settling on the final installment of the Harry Potter movie, I began to let my mind drift, and realized that this was almost like a vacation.  I didn't have to check my emails, or attend conference calls, or edit briefs, or do any of that other stuff.  It was the first time since I left for Chicago that I had begun to relax enough to feel that way.  Then I moved and felt a jolt of pain as my SP tube pulled against side.  Not quite a vacation, I guess. 

This afternoon, Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia called and scheduled me for an appointment on June 7 with Dr. Betsy Plimack. They are the closest location that is running the clinical trial that appears to be the best bet for me right now.  They are getting all of the records and tissue samples from Chicago, and so they will have all of the ground work done by the time we meet.

Tomorrow Jennifer and I will go to Hopkins to have the Foley removed, meet with the neobladder physical therapist, and (hopefully) consult with their oncology team.  I'm not expecting anything different that what Dr. Aragon-Ching told me last week, but it will be helpful for me to process it again, plus Jennifer will be there and can ask her questions. 

On Wednesday, I'm supposed to go into GW so an interventional radiologist and evaluate why my port is able to receive infusions, but not be used to collect blood.  It's supposed to be a two-way device.   It could be as simple as dislodging a flap of skin, or they might have to replace it.  No big deal.