Jerry, KitKat Bars, and the Beauty of Hope

I had chemotherapy yesterday and took it like a champ. Actually, I slept through most of the awful part thanks to the "pre-meds" I received. The cocktail of Benadryl, Pepcid, and Zofran is greatly appreciated by most patients including myself, in UCSD's oncology infusion center. 

Yesterday I was excited to see my new friend, I will call him Jerry to protect his privacy, again this week with his signature possession, chocolate candy bars. You see Jerry has been fighting Multiple Myelomma for 13 years undergoing many of the same treatments and procedures that i have had to. This is also the same cancer that my grandfather, Roy B. Cannon Jr., courageously battled for 8 years. Even though grandpa is gone, you would not believe how good it makes me feel to see Jerry fighting and beating Myelomma's horrific destruction. Jerry and I have become an odd friendship, he is a mid-sixties, choc-a-holic, Harley-Davidson riding hippie. However,  our friendship stems from something much deeper than what appears on the surface. We both like, um, well fine, we both LOVE KitKat bars. 

(Geez! I'm going through hell here. At least Let me enjoy my damn candy bar!)

More importantly though is that we both have an inner strength that comes from going through the terror and tragedy cancer brings. I am still finding mine and figuring out how in the heck to positively use it, but Jerry is a good friend and a good example to follow.

It was not a great night last night. I have had a new reaction to the chemo medications arise and that is a terrible metallic taste in my mouth that will not go away. Imagine sucking on a quarter or a few quarters and I'm guessing that is pretty close to the taste I experienced. Not the most pleasant sensory experience, but it could be worse. Much worse I suppose.

Diarrhea and hot flashes have already started while I remain hungrier than ever. Sometimes I just need some comfort food at 3 am to help me get back to sleep, even if only for an hour. I had a bowl of Raisin Bran cereal  (bad idea for someone with the runs) and a PB&J. Now that its light out I crawl out of bed to make myself some breakfast. I am having macaroni & cheese (to combat my runs) and another delicious PB&J. 

Oh thank goodness for PB&J's. 

Well I will not bore you or gross you out with more details of my wacky bodily functions, but I did want to leave you with these final thoughts. My hair has started to fall out. Not all at once, but slowly a few strands at a time as if to torture me even more than I already am. I am greatly saddened by this, but with "sad" there is always a "happy". My "happy" was looking down at my legs, the tumors, and the ugly reality of cancer and seeing the first glimpses of improvement. Nothing drastic yet, but enough to give me the hope that my cancer has taken away from me. I know it has only been two doses of chemotherapy, but then again it has ONLY been two doses. Who knows how much better things will be after four, six, or eight doses? This hope is what I desperately hold onto (besides Eric of course!) and think about when the chemo side effects become too intense.

HOPE, that amazing gift from God, sure is a WONDERFUL thing.