Tag: cancer survivor

Changing Gears

~ Bob Cook ~ 6 Comments

I almost checked into the hospital this week. On Monday I could feel my blood pressure rising. There was no apparent stress then. I didn’t eat a handful of salt. No smoke, no drink but before noon it climbed over 165. I sat down, took it easy, drank some water and within two hours it was down to 135/80.

The next day it did it again. I had places to go and things to do. It rose again over 160 and I resorted to taking a nitroglycerine tablet (prescribed over a year ago). It dropped 20 points in four minutes, as it should. I called my primary care physician and set up an appointment to see him the next morning. But that afternoon it rose to 171/90. Again, I just sat back and drank some water. Then took a shower, packed the overnight bag and prepared to go the emergency room if it continued. Within two hours it was back down to 137/87. Stroke averted.

After a thorough examination and many questions my doctor gave me a simple diagnosis: I am overweight! Apparently during and after chemotherapy I was unable to do all the activities I used to. No strength, no energy, so just sit back in that recliner and chill. But I have not resumed the previous pace of gardening and woodworking. This spare tire is not the “covid 19 (pounds)” but the chemo 20. He ordered me to lose 6 pounds in 6 weeks, also tweaked my BP meds.

Coincidentally I went to the Florida Cancer Specialist this week and they re-confirmed that I am still cancer-free. Now I need to be fat-free.

So now, back to work. I enjoy my job but it is not consistently physically demanding. I’ll make a few deliveries here and there but the real sweat takes place after work and on weekends. Tonight I spent two hours in the back yard pruning some shrubs HARD. Then bundled the branches and dragged them to the street for pick up. My blood pressure is now 119/80. I’m built for work, not leisure.

Sporting my computer glasses.

Jumpy Bob

~ Bob Cook ~ 3 Comments

Alright, now that the cancer is gone, what next?

Yesterday I received my last dose of chemotherapy. At our first meeting the doctor proposed four doses, then the PET scan, and he assured me it would be clear. He was right. But they scheduled six doses to assure all the cancerous cells would be gone. One of the nurses told me of one patient who stopped at four and came back a couple years later after her cancer had returned and the chemotherapy was stronger and longer. No thanks. Hit me now, not harder later.

This dose feels about like the rest. I think they remove my blood and replace it with sand.

The side effects of Prednisone are energy, but not ability. Last night I went to bed at 10 and was wide awake at 12:30, time for breakfast. I see a project I want to tackle but I get dizzy just bending over and standing up. Dragging the trash can to the curb is exhausting. I feel like I have a fever but my temperature is 96.3. All along I have looked forward to April, but May should be the time when I recover.

During the first week after chemo my immune system is gone. Especially tomorrow. This weird box attached to my arm will make beeping noises at 7:00 pm and pump more meds into me that will boost the white blood cells. It’s designed to be administered at home to reduce the risk of infection, assuming no one at home is sick.

So, this Stay at Home order is just fine with me. For the next five days I’ll hunker down and if I need to venture out I have a mask and gloves and sanitizer.

First Off…

~ Bob Cook ~ 1 Comment

Sunshine, Blue Skies For Now

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

— Deuteronomy 31:8

I have written a few emails to family and friends about my struggle with cancer but this blog will be a good way for me to compose my thoughts and quickly communicate with them and any interested parties. So, if you subscribe below, you will get an email every time I write an entry here.

I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL) last month (November, 2019). Since then I’ve gone through a couple more tests to clearly define which one of the 60 different forms of NHL I have and where else it might be in my body, other than the lymph nodes in my neck.

Friday 13th

Last Friday, the 13th of December, I underwent a PET scan at Florida Cancer Specialists. This scan will reveal cancer cells location and tell us if it has spread. I’ll get the results on Friday the 20th and begin chemotherapy immediately, like the next hour.

Meanwhile, this Wednesday they will surgically implant a port in my chest to make it easier to inject the chemicals.

My doctor knows I am impatient. At our first meeting I half-joking asked if he could just give me a shot and cut it out. He said “We could do this fast or we could do this right.” So, as fast as they can carefully go, this week has come soon enough.

Sunday, December 15.

My brother-in-law Wayne suggested I eat all my favorite foods this week because chemotherapy can destroy taste buds. I feel like I have four “last meals” for dinner this week because chemotherapy begins Friday morning.

After church today we went to Iguana Mia for their Sunday special of Huevos Rancheros: Fried eggs layered with cheese, tortillas, salsa, refried black beans, and bacon.

Today’s 79 degrees with a cool breeze was perfect for gardening. I pulled weeds and planted out Nicotianas. Then trimmed some overgrown Fire Bushes in the backyard. As I tied up the branches and dragged them to the curb I had to think of gardening friends I might need to call on to help me with these chores soon. I’ve heard that chemotherapy makes you weak and tired.