It's been a while since I posted and there's a reason for it: shortly after Canadian Thanksgiving, I fell extremely ill. How ill? I've lost 2 weeks worth of memories. They're just...gone. I spent two weeks in hospital and the last thing I remember was the Tom Baker staff instructing me to hang up and dial 911. Apparently, I spent 14 hours in the ER waiting for a bed in a ward and very nearly died in hospital.
My first firm memories date back to the afternoon of Sunday, Oct. 25th. Everything prior to that starting from Oct. 12th and either plain missing or deeply fragmented like my memory of making that 911 call.
What happened? The doctors are diagnosing it as "colitis", which is a catch-all for "we don't know what happened but the patient seems to be responding to our treatment". Regardless, I'm glad to be alive.
Oh, and they're suspecting I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome as well. Look that up and you'll see how slippery that one is for treatment.
I'm physically weak currently, extremely so. I can't really walk very far by myself so they've loaned me a walker. Due to my cancer, Palliative Care has also swung into action and have assigned me a loaner powered hospital bed for when I'm too weak to sit up. They've also assigned me a homecare nurse to check in on me. All of this is very nice but it's also scaring me as to how bad this is going to get. I'm hoping it's not as bad as my very active imagination can cook up but at the same time, it's comforting to know that there's all these resources available to me.
I'm off chemotherapy at present as I've been told that in my weakened condition, chemo will kill me. I'm okay with stopping chemo for now and am trying to enjoy the unplanned break.
Chemo will start again in just over a week. Not looking forward to it but I do want to try to beat this tumour if possible. It's likely in vain but I'm trying hard to stay hopeful.
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