Same Game, Different Facility 

“If you start to take Vienna – take Vienna!!”

Napoleon Bonaparte – on keeping focused on a goal, applying overwhelming force, and not getting distracted.

 

Download the book here

Please check out my formal journal at CURE Magazine, a world wide publication found in every oncologist's office. They have asked me to share my transplant experience. I also encourage you to read this post: How My Cancer Might Save Your Life. It's a quick read, and if you pay close attention, you'll be a different person afterwards. 100% guaranteed, or triple your money back.

March 17, St. Patrick’s Day, 2015

Week One Out of the Hospital

On Thursday, March 12 I moved from Moffitt as an inpatient to Hope Lodge as an outpatient. It was a tough day, taking most of the afternoon to get released, then going to the Lodge, checking in, then we had to shop for groceries. Later that night, a home health nurse came in to get me set up on a portable IV pump, since I’m still on antibiotics to clear up an infection I got on March 5^th. By the time she left, and we cooked dinner, it was very late and I was very exhausted.

The next couple of days were great, in that there was no hospital routine, and I could manage my own schedule somewhat, especially at night. It was still very tough, and it took me a few days to figure out why. I expected, leaving the hospital, to suddenly feel better. Turns out, I felt just the same, but in a new place. No miracle cure from moving across the street.

We visit the outpatient clinic at Moffitt every day. Sometimes for labs, sometimes to see a P.A., sometimes just to flush my central line. We are able to take a little golf cart shuttle, which is convenient, but then are immersed in the same old clinic routine of sign in, wait, see someone, wait, etc..  It usually occupies half our day, either morning, midday, or afternoon.

Otherwise I’m sleeping 9-11 hours a night (up 5-10 times for bathroom); napping 2-3 times a day for an hour; and trying to eat. Getting food in my body is my #1 healing step right now, but it’s hard. I have no appetite and nothing tastes even vaguely appealing. So I sit there and shove food in, treating it like medicine, knowing I need to do it. Losing the joy of eating is one of cancer treatment’s biggest downers.

Other than some residual swelling in my feet and legs (still going everywhere in slippers), I’m doing OK overall. Managing fatigue, trying to eat, and getting some exercise are the big things right now.

I have started hall walking here at Hope Lodge, like I did at the hospital. 15 laps is a mile. Boring but necessary. In a short while I hope I’ll be able to do some outside while the weather is still nice. Today I’m remotely participating in the KSC Runway Walk/Run. I’m doing my 2 miles inside the hallways today, about 120NM west of Runway 33. I sure miss all the great gang of Space Coast runners I’ve come to know, and especially those in my group. We had such a great time last year.

I see my main transplant doctor on Thursday, and expect nothing but good news. That will be a week after getting out of the hospital, and a month after the transplant.

In the meantime, the support we're receiving from friends, family, co-workers, and strangers humbles and awes us. Thanks to you all.