A good drain

Yesterday Dr. Z drained 4.4L of ascities from my abdomen. In keeping with my Coke analogy, that's the equivalent of two 2L bottles and a big, thirst-quenching glass of the fizzy liquid that came out of my belly. I got the feeling he could have gotten more, because it was still flowing pretty good, but opted to stop where he did.

The procedure itself was relatively pain free. He's a skilled man with the needle. But starting last night and into today, I feel as though I've done an gut-crunching abs workout for about an hour straight. Coughing even hurts.

That's why when I threw up the first meal I've had in days during the middle of the night. I was moaning. Then not only did I throw up water this morning, I had diarrhea to boot (sharts while vomitting, not a pretty picture). So I popped some Immodium and drank some sport drink (praying it would stay down) and I think I have the situation under control.

After the paracentesis yesterday, I had an impromptu appointment with Dr. W. We talked about the fact I've been having chemo for nine month straight now and it's taking its toll. I am weak, shaky and tired, all the time. I sleep way more than I should. I'm not capable of taking care of my house and my family. I am not enjoying life.

I have a CT scan on Friday so we can take a look see at what's happening in my abdomen. If we've shrunk the tumours and they seem stable, we'll talk about stopping chemo for a month or two. He said it could be the chemo or it could be the cancer that's making me feel so shitty. He can take away the chemo to see what happens, he can't take away the cancer (darn). Then when I gain some of my strength back, we'll talk about treatment again.

Yesterday was the first time he mentioned palliative care. He would like me to start working with the Palliative Care workers because he finds the transition works better if they're brought in early. "Over time, chemo become less important and palliative care become more important," he added. "Holy crap." my brain said.

I know this is a terminal disease. There is no cure and diagnosis at stage IIIC is very bad. I am on the road to death but no one knows how long the road is or where it ends. But, I have to admit I wasn't quite prepared to start talking palliative care. Although he did say the end could be years down the road. Years sounds good to me.

Raising the whole subject, along with not feeling well, has me feeling a bit weepy this afternoon. I'm tired of being sick and tired. I feel bad for Michael (who takes care of me, and will continue to do so) and my kids because I'm not the bubbly, energetic wife and mom I once was. I feel bad for my friends who get email greetings but very little Tina time because I just don't have the energy.

Hopefully the chemo break will bring about a little bit more of the old Tina with a nice jolt of energy and interest in the world around her.

Let's keep our fingers crossed.

Tina