Each time I wake up, several times at night, I feel pretty much the same. Go to the bathroom, then get a drink of water to rehydrate my bone-dry, parched mouth. Blow my constantly running nose and crawl back into bed. But the 4:00 AM time is different. At this time my stomach makes bizarre, violent noises.

A normal hungry stomach has digestive fluids squirting into it in preparation for food. Then you get a little growl. That would not keep me awake. These roiling signals are more than musical. They are dramatic, theatrical, but not entertaining.

These noises are coming from somewhere throughout my digestive tract. Not just one spot but in full-stage, Dolby stereo.

How could I recreate these unearthly, peculiar noises? I’ve had two months to imagine so here you go: Get a cheap, blue, plastic kiddie pool. Put it on the roof of a minivan. Fill it with Jello. Throw in a dolphin and a piranha. Add a hand full of silverware, two original Slinky’s, and a bag of large marshmallows. Feed the dolphin a Red Bull to encourage him swim in circles. Now, lay back on the floor of the minivan and listen. Close your eyes. Yes, that’s it.

It’s not loud enough to wake my wife, but I have to wonder what sort of digestive gods are throwing punches down there. Between rounds they rest on creaky rocking chairs. I appease them with Chobani yogurt until tomorrow’s match.

At first I did not know how these medicines would affect me. But now the side effects are all established, and the worst of them have been avoided. Here is a list of my current abnormalities;

1. Everything smells like cheese. The chemo damages the fast growing cells of the lining of my nose, mouth, and digestive system. With some people, they cannot taste. But with me, my nose always runs a little, then stops, then I think my clothes need laundering but it’s just my nose.
2. No more deep, dreamy sleep. The frequent bathroom breaks are now routine morning, noon and night.
3. Sleepy fingers. “Tingling and numbness of the extremities” narrows it down to my thumb, index and middle fingers. Like when you’ve been leaning on your elbow and part of your hand falls asleep. It comes and goes.
4. Sour stomach. But not indigestion. At first I couldn’t tell if I was hungry or sick. But now I eat a little something and feel better. Imagine drinking a small bottle of hot sauce, how you might feel the next day.
5. Irritability. I’m still not used to the frustration of wanting to do many things but not being able to do simple chores. It came out a couple of days ago when I needled my son about some minor matter. I could hear myself carping. I had to apologize and ask for forgiveness that he gladly gave. “You’re going through some stuff Dad.”
6. Irregular. No details here but I washed down a stool softener pill with prune juice with NO ill effects. Moving right along.
7. Flat. I’m used to having inspired flashes of creativity, then making something, building, cleaning, planting, moving, buying, selling, something. I’m geared to work and rest but now it’s low and slow. I’ve also dropped all caffeine that used to help fuel frantic activity and work through tiredness. Now I get winded just picking up the cat.