first of all, as i should have expected, the infusion didn’t start until 10 – 2 hours later than they said it would. i guess they had to wait for the blood test results (to make sure i was human?). then they fill me up with about a litre of fluid, which takes an hour, then a cup or so of cytoxan, then another wait, another liter of fluid – all of this repeated a few times. and, as Teslacle’s Deviant to Fudd’s Law tells us, “it goes in, it must come out.” so there were numerous trips to the potty, hauling myself by the walker and my devoted wife following behind with the iv stand.  in between it was just a long day of lying in bed, watching bad tv, listening to the old ipod (which was nice – i never listen to that music). peeing like sea biscuit. and all done by 7:30 pm. a long day, and for all the lying in bed, surprisingly tiring. now i just have to keep an eye out for side effects – probably no worse than some mild nausea. or not.

and the physical therapy people a few days before this made me walk up and down, yanked and pushed at my legs, consulted, and decided that a brace – which is what i thought i was going in for – was not at all what i needed. they suggested the “walk aide” electro-stim device, which apparently you can use one of on each leg. a little like the wrong trousers. they are fabulously expensive, and not covered by insurance, but the rehab clinic has them, so i can use them to see if i can retrain my feet to listen to my brain.

  • brain: hello, left foot. could you lift up a bit, please?
  • left foot: sorry, what? i didn’t hear you.

and i stepped boldly into the new millenium and joined the twitters (zenhead1). does that make me a twit? still not really sure how it’s supposed to work, or why. but what the heck, i’m retired now, i got plenty of time.

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Author: Stephen

Stephen Harris is a writer, painter and a photographer who lives with his family in Maine.

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