Chemo Ports, A Fib and a Room with a View

Nobody told me cancer would be easy.  I'm not the type to see rainbows and think happy thoughts as I move through the world, much more inclined to identify pro's and cons, measure odds, prepare for the worst then just go for it.  The other night I had an experience that completely blindsided me, was potentially deadly and really opened my eyes to this little adventure I'm on.

This last week I've had a number of tests and procedures:

1. A multigated acquisition (MUGA) scan:  not a bad test at all.  They draw blood, put some type of radioactive isotope in it, then re-inject you with it.  Before starting chemo they need to make sure your heart is strong enough to handle the toxicity of the drugs.  The only know side effect is when you get angry, you tend to turn green and rampage around town, but thankfully that hasn't happened yet.  
   
2. Pulmonary Function test:  blow in a tube for about 30 minutes then leave.  Super simple, one test where nobody pokes you with needles...thankfully.
3. MediPort installation: more later but the turning point for the week.  Affectionately called the "little bastard." 
4. Electrocardiogram (ECG): Yep, here comes the heart issue.
5. Arrhythmia drugs: oh crap this is real.
6. 6 Blood draws plus a fun little IV

So what happened?  The MUGA and pulmonary test were conducted on Monday, the technicians were fantastic, as usual, the tests went perfect and all indications were that my body is in great shape to start chemo.  Tuesday was the day to get my "port." A port is a small little device with a reservoir and silicone bubble they put under your skin so they don't have to tap the veins in your arms for meds and chemo drugs.  The reservoir is attached to a catheter which is threaded into some big vein, superior vena cava, for example, and stops at your right atrium.

Now most often, this little bastard gets put in with no issues whatsoever, but here at the Funwithcueballs household, we are over achievers.  I got home around 5p from the procedure and felt really sore.  This was probably the most painful procedure yet. I took 2 pain killers and hung out on the couch.  Then at around 10p I took one more and went to bed. The moment my head hit the pillow my heart made an amazing transformation, it went from life-giver to two rabid squirrels fighting over an acorn.  I could feel my upper chambers giving my lower chambers the finger and begin a sprint toward some imaginary finish line.  My lower chambers just could not keep up so they decided to line dance in perfect 3 step timing hoping to snag a beat or two from the upper.  Then just as my panic hit an all time high, the pain killer kicked in and I fell asleep.  After a fitful night, I was out of bed at 0630 and waiting to get the kids to school so I could tell my angel wife what was going on.  We were in the ER by 0830.

When your heart does this, you are not yourself mentally.  The heart produces about 20% less pumping action and therefore you lose quite a bit of mental capacity.  I was in a complete fog while my wife took me to the ER, not incoherent but not really processing things correctly either.  By 9 am I was on a gurney, they hooked me up to an EKG and my resting heart rate was over 150 beats per minute.  Squeezing out a fart would jump my rate to 170, then it would drop to 130 then rebound to 150.  So here comes the therapy.

I don't know what they gave me, but here is how the conversation went:

     "Mr. Fun, nice to meet you, I'm Doctor Heartstopper"

     "Well hello Dr. Heartstopper"

     "Glad to see you are naked, yep your keister is in the right place.  You never know when sunshine needs to be pumped"

     "Yes Doctor I know"

     "Well, we are going to give you drugs to slow your heart down and change the rhythm.  We will do 3 rounds, or so, and if it doesn't work we will go to plan B."

     "Plan B?  Pray tell Doctor!"

     "Cardiovert!!!"

     "That doesn't sound too bad"  Now remember I'm operating on 20% less brain function.

     "Well patient, it's not, we just zap your heart, stop it from beating, and really hope to start it again.  See ya in a couple of hours."

Ok, not a perfect word for word transcript, but close enough.  As my situation progressed I actually started thinking that a heart stoppage would be a better situation than what was going on now.  Maybe I would see the light, or do that hover thing above my body for a while.  Now that would be super cool, but thankfully it did not happen that way.  

At about 1pm, I was talking to the physicians assistant assigned to me when low and behold, I looked at her and said "it stopped."  Just like that, my heart went back to completely normal, normal sinus rhythm, normal heart beat and a completely normal feeling.  The head cleared, I could concentrate and really understand stuff again, it was fantastic. The PA looked completely astonished, it happened right in front of her and she really seemed excited for the outcome.  Even Dr. Heartstopper was happy about the outcome.  

Around that time another Doc came in, a specialist in internal medicine.  She took a history and really concentrated on the port that was installed the day before.  What seems to have happened, is sometime during my little journey from couch to bed, the port may have moved and "tickled" my heart wall.  This tickling caused my heart to say "what the heck, I'm out of here" and begin its race toward oblivion.  After an echo-cardiogram, you could clearly see my port extending into my right atrium, I was assured it was okay to be there, but ideally they want it a bit more upstream and sitting in the vein.  

Now the fun part.  After all was well, and after being on a gurney for 7 hours, I started to get a little bored.  I could see the machine that was transmitting my vitals to some telemetry unit and decided to have a little fun. 

 It really is an amazing thing what holding your breath until you are ready to pass out does to your vital signs.  Heart rate slows, of course breathing shows zero and the pulse oximeter begins the weird little countdown toward zero.  So there I was, turning blue and having a hell of a fun time setting off all the bells and whistles warning of a problem.  But more importantly, I needed to see if my ticker was okay, was the little bastard still affecting me, or could I take a bit of stress.  Probably not the best way to find out, but it was fun anyway.

The internal medicine Doctor admitted me for observation and away I went to the room.  I stayed at Skyridge hospital and boy oh boy have hospitals come a long way.  It was like a 3 star hotel room with the wonderful views of the Rocky Mountains.  I actually ordered room service from a menu for dinner, no Salisbury steak and canned veggies, but actual slow cooked pot roast, broccoli and a great desert.  The TV worked, I could order movies and ended up having a little cardiac induced vacation for the night.  

Now about Dr. Heartsopper and the staff at Skyridge.  WOW!!!! Wonderful, caring folks indeed!!  I am still amazed at the level of caring and empathy these medical professionals display.  You are truly amazing and thank you for all you do!!!

The Wraith in My Dreams

What where you doing in 1984??  

I was starting my sophomore year in high school, really getting into the meat of what it means to be a teenager.  Living in a small town, having girl friends and trying beer for the first time, yep living the teenage American dream.  In our town, rated R certainly did not stop enterprising 15 year old's from seeing a movie or two or three.  Nope, we had it down to a science, just wait for a group of adults to show up and follow them in, easy peasy.   Well, that year I saw what I thought was the scariest movie ever made, and little did I know that 30 years later it would become all to real.

Cancer IS Freddy!!!!!

One two, Freddy's coming for you....Three four, better lock the door....Five six, grab your crucifix....Seven eight, gonna stay up late....Nine ten, never sleep again!!!

Freddy, a scarred and disfigured murderer who is condemned to walk the halls of peoples dreams.  A boogeyman incarnate for my generation, something you try not to think about when you are awake when the sun is up and shining, but an unknown terror once your head hits the pillow and sleep overtakes you.  You can control your thoughts during the day, make the bad go away, concentrate on family, friends and work.  At night is when the real surprises hit, when the boogeyman comes out to play and your fears become a tortured reality.  At times you awake steaming with fear and anticipation of what your life may become, telling yourself over and over it was just a dream and reaching for a solid indication you are at home safe.  Then you realize that home is not safe, living inside you is that meandering little murderer that has taken so many real lives and has maimed so many others.  

On CHRISTmas eve 2014, after finishing the CT scan and after having a fantastic CHRISTmas party at our neighbor's house, I sat on the couch and looked at the tree.  My two sons, already in bed and filled with anticipation for what tomorrow would bring, my beautiful wife upstairs getting ready for a night's sleep, and me just sitting there.  A very strange moment indeed when I realized that on the day we celebrate the birth of the world's Savior, a door opened to my life and in walked Freddy, always with me now whether I am awake or asleep.  Always tickling me with those long knives during the day, but at night he tightens the glove and begins to poke and stab, chasing me around my dreams until I relent.  

But I won't relent, rot in hell Freddy!!!

The nightmares are not as frequent now as they were during the first month of this little adventure.  Every night I would wake up, sometimes gasping for air, recovering from a dream of being drowned, or running a race where there were no finish lines with some slow unrelenting force chasing me down.  Thankfully they are farther and fewer in between, I think having a diagnosis and knowing what the treatment will be really helps with the psyche.  

I am going to share one that has stuck in my mind, left me panicking at 2 am, telling myself over and over it was just a dream, that I was home safe...well you know how that goes.

#1 - The Flight, The Crash, The Cancer Ward

A little background - An extremely good friend of mine, an absolute part of my family, is also a pilot.  This is a buddy, lets call him Ron, that I would trust with my life and will no doubt be a part of me for as long as I live.  So now the dream.

I was taking Ron on a flight to Hayden Colorado.  Hayden is a small town just West of Steamboat Springs.  My wife and I lived there for a few years during my first duty assignment.  Hayden is a typical small town, but has an "international" airport to service the ski traffic going in and out of Steamboat.

It was a beautiful sun shiny day.  Fresh snow on the ground, the runway recently plowed with large snow drifts on either side and airliners filled with skiers hopped in and out of the airport.  Ron wanted to fly but it wasn't my plane.  It was a plane I flew for work and I knew letting him fly would be violating a great many policies and procedures, but off he went as I stood by the runway and watched.  

He made two passes, doing just fine, then out of the blue came a regional jet.  The jet was on final approach, announcing his position and doing everything just right.  Ron, unfamiliar with the airport, narrowly missed the jet then lost control and crashed into a snow bank. Fearing the death of my brother from another mother, I ran to the crash site.  Ron walked out just fine, then it hit me, my boss would have to know.

Now as dreams so often do, I went into fast forward mode.  My boss called me into a meeting at Steamboat Springs.  A meeting so important, he would come to me and we would have it at the local hospital.  He sat there staring at me, saying over and over how bad this was and that action would have to be taken.  I plead my case that I had cancer and couldn't afford to lose my job or my health insurance.  He just sat there with a grim look on his face and said over and over how something had to be done.  

Now in reality, my boss and I have worked together for quite a few years, beginning as peers, but now as my boss, so you know the dynamic.  Letting him down is more than a boss/employee situation, it is disappointing someone you respect, and who's opinion you really cherish.  So far in the dream I have almost killed one of my dearest friends and have really let down another.

So I sat there in the hospital, feeling the gravity in his voice and studying the disappointment in his face, knowing he would fire me and my cancer treatment would stop.  I was trying to hold on to my career of 20 years, couldn't believe how carelessly I could throw it away.  Everything I had worked for is now gone and holding on is all I can do. 

Then I really had to PEE.  

Getting up I walked through 2 gray double doors.  Approaching the doors I began to hear the screams and moans of torment.  Opening the doors I was met by a large room with 50 beds, a room with no organization but beds just flung into the corners and a disorderly maze that meandered over toward the bathrooms.  As I walked through the room, desperately trying to find my way out, a nurse told me I was in the Cancer Ward.  But this was no ordinary cancer ward, this was the death ward, and all 50 people where dying.  Morphine pumps dripped, some just laid there quietly and others were suffering a violent struggle against Freddy.  

In one particular bed was an older, rail thin gentleman with a morphine pump the size of an encephalitic pumpkin.  Hospital gown draped over his front and long, spindly arms filled with IV bruises suspended at his side.  His face would grimace, the morphine pump would let out a "psst" then tranquility would find him.  A peaceful dormancy, kept warm by a narcotic blanked that enveloped his body.  I approached him, studying his last moments on earth, relieved that it would be a comfortable end for him and me.  

A grimace, psst, tranquility.  This went on for several minutes, like a heart beating a regular rhythm.  A grimace, psst, tranquility.  A grimace, psst, tranquility.

A grimace....nothing.   A grimace....nothing.  A grimace....eyes suddenly opened wide and fixed on mine.  Bloodshot eyes filled with cancer and hate, hate that I was standing there alive, not yet tormented by Freddy, but behind the hate was satisfaction that soon I too would struggle.  Satisfaction that Freddy and I would have our little dance, that even though I was alive, he knew I was dead, I just didn't know it yet.  

Then the howling began, his mouth, at first strained with pain and suffering, formed a circle.  His dry, cracked bloody lips slowly peeled back and teeth gnashed like knives trying to find their mark.  The bruise filled arms began to flap in the air as a nurse ran over to pump more morphine but it was too late.  Death was with him, he was struggling, trying to get away but being held back, Freddy was winning.  I turned and ran, past the patients, past the moaning, down hallways with no clear direction.  Freddy was chasing me and I didn't know where to turn, the long knives would find me and begin their poking and slashing.  One more hallway, a flickering fluorescent light, more running, more running, more.....

Choking I awoke, heart racing, but in my mind it was real.  Laying there gasping with tears streaming down my face, knowing I let my family down, all that I had worked for was gone.  Then slowly reality began to set in, the fog of my subconscious war lifted and I laid there, relieved but terrified.  The clock read 2:12 am, I could sleep for another 4 hours but no way.  I couldn't re-enter that world, couldn't open the door to whatever kingdom Freddy ruled over, tonight my sleeping was over. 

It was just a dream.

A dream I will never forget.

Hi Ho..Hi Ho..It's off to chemo I go..inject some junk..put you in a funk..Hi Ho

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well preserved piece, but to skid across the line broadside, thoroughly used up, worn out, leaking oil, shouting GERONIMO!"

Pretty neat quote ay??  I never really understood the folks who think they are getting out of this thing alive.  We all have a set amount of rotations around the sun, not one day more or less and there is not a damn thing you can do about it.  So live your life, love those around you, go to Church, work harder and play harder.  You never know when it will be taken away, if only for a short while.

It is 4am as I type this out, you are reading a side effect of chemo treatment number 1.  More on that later, it was a great, crazy and scary day yesterday.

The day started like most days here in the Cueballs household.  Kids up by 6a, my fantastic wife making coffee and breakfast for the boys, but oddly enough I slept until around 7a.  Normally I am up by 6:15 helping, ok actually "supporting" this school day ritual but yesterday I really had to drag myself out of bed.  My first thought was I was just being lazy, but it could have been a little more than that.  

I've been having a couple cancer symptoms, one that is pretty much constant the last two weeks and the other just rears its head every couple of days.  

The first symptom is a really persistent heaviness in my chest.  Sort of like the beginning of a cold, an occasional cough but nothing produced.  It feels like fluid is building, sometimes it is worse than others but it is always there.  The second is really odd and not me at all, unexplained, immediate, where's my pillow tiredness.  It will hit me out of the blue and come hell or high water I am going to sleep, maybe only for a half hour, or maybe longer but sayonara baby...lights out.  Yesterday morning felt a bit like that, getting up was a really a strange sensation of having weights tied around me, not usual for me at all.  But what you gonna do.

At 8:45 I was off to the appointment, armed with a bundle of nerves, heart palpitations and a credit card, what could go wrong?  Actually nothing went wrong, it was a good day.

A view from the parking lot.  In this building I've had the majority of tests, met with the fantastic staff of KP and have been ushered from the normal life to the cancer life.  Really a great new place, lots of light, very clean, certainly a place I won't forget anytime soon.  This is where my treatments will be held.  The walk from my car to the entrance was really a piece of cake.  I don't mean physically but mentally.  There have been times when walking toward this building entrance felt like my shoes weighed 50 lbs a piece and I couldn't bare the though what the next test would be, but not today, today was a day of action and I really wanted to get the party started.

If you ever see this sign as part of a doctor's visit here's a hint...your life is not going as planned...get ready for the curve ball.  Behind this door is my next 12 treatments, 6 months worth of highly trained, professional and wonderful folks trying to kill my cancer and keep me alive in the process.  I will be receiving 6 rounds of ABVD (I'll explain this next week) then hopefully be cured.  My oncologist says there is a 80-90 percent chance for a cure, not too bad as far a cancer goes.

The room is really pleasant  with a fantastic vies of the Rocky Mountains, but believe me, it ain't no social club, there is really serious life saving business going on.  What really make it is the incredible staff of nurses, pharmacists and doctors that see you through this.

Ah yes...my "little bastard" tapped and ready to go.  Got to admit, the whole port fiasco may give way to a really good way to put chemo into you.  No issues what so ever, it will still send my heart into palpitations every so often, but overall not bad.  

Chemo meds and the machine that delivers it.  These meds need to be delivered at really specific rates to prevent heart and vein damage.  The machine on  the right meters the flow so my last med, which needs to be infused over an hour period, does not get infused improperly. My first two meds were delivered by a syringe into the eyeball.........just kiddin' they were put in through the iv connected to the port. 

Sat in the chair by 9:45 am, was walking out around 12:45 pm, next time it should only take 2 hours.  Now for a couple of symptoms.

On the way out, I stopped at the pharmacy for some meds, mainly anti-nausea stuff.  While the order was being filled, I went outside to call my wife.  It was a great day, 40 degrees, incredibly blue skies and a light wind.  While talking I felt a small tingle around my nose and eyes.  Tingling in the location of an old Lone Ranger mask, then the tingling moved to my upper lip and mouth.  My first thought was I may be having some sort of delayed anaphylaxis reaction, then BOOM it hit me.  The feeling went from tingling to a thousand red ants being thrown on my face, I needed to get out of the cold and fast.  As soon as the old cheek bones warmed up inside all was fine, it was just a reaction to the cold. 

My extremely "unedumacated" and google induced guess is that it is some kind or neurapothy where I become hyper sensitive to heat and cold.  No doubt the nursing staff will be thrilled with my excellent self diagnosis.

All in all a good day.  Next week I hope to update you on the actual treatment, that is if a mountain lion doesn't get me.  Thanks JohnL.

Alpha....Bravo....Victor....David

"Most people think life sucks, and then you die. Not me. I beg to differ. I think life sucks, then you get cancer, then your dog dies, your wife leaves you, the cancer goes into remission, you get a new dog, you get remarried, you owe ten million dollars in medical bills but you work hard for thirty-five years and you pay it back and then -- one day -- you have a massive stroke, your whole right side is paralyzed, you have to limp along the streets and speak out of the left side of your mouth and drool but you go into rehabilitation and regain the power to walk and the power to talk and then -- one day -- you step off a curb at Sixty-seventh Street, and BANG you get hit by a city bus and then you die. Maybe." - Denis Leary

Well that about sums it up doesn't it??  

Got my first ever case of pink eye 48 hours ago.  My body is at its "nadir," what's that you ask??  In good time young padawan, but lets first discuss this thing called "combination therapy."

Mass destruction is a great way to describe chemo.  Prior to this little adventure I had no idea what cancer was or what its treatment was like.  What you end up learning is that chemotherapy is not a very precise science.  It is an interplay of chemicals designed to kill the cancer before those same chemicals kill you. 

Chemotherapy stems from the United States Dept. of Defense investigating the effects of chemical warfare.  CHEMICAL FRIKKIN WARFARE!!!!  Autopsies were done to determine the mechanism of death in chemical warfare victims and through that research, cancer treatments were born.  Chemotherapy is quite a statement about the human condition though, out of the desire to kill as many humans as possible comes the science designed to keep alive as many humans as possible.

The first ever treatment was in 1942 when scientists used "nitrogen mustard," a derivative of mustard gas, to treat a patient with lymphoma.  The treatment was effective in suppressing the lymphoma and wahlah!! chemotherapy was born.  The term "combination therapy" is used to describe chemotherapy with multiple drugs because one drug just won't do it.  They need to bombard you with drugs from all angles to really root out the cancer.  

So how does it work??

Cancer cells are really greedy, maniacal little bastards.  Every cell in your body has a mechanism in its DNA to shut it down and kill it if it doesn't reproduce and proliferate properly.  Cancer cells have the ability to shut that mechanism down, they continue to reproduce and spread even though they are defective.  Sort of like little rabbits living inside of you, their only intent is to eat, screw and reproduce.  So how can you get rid of rabbits??  You can trap them, much like cutting out a tumor, or you can poison them, much like chemotherapy.  So they take the cancer cell's natural tendency, eating, and use it against itself.  Once it eats the chemo, it dies, but so does every other cell in your body that eats the chemo.  Many of the side effects of chemo are because it is killing your good cells in an attempt to kill the bad ones.  Nausea, for example, is due to your stomach lining needing to consistently reproduce itself to keep you healthy.  Chemo attempts to destroy the lining, there by making you sick to your stomach.

The chemo I am on is:

• (A) Adriamycin
• (B) Bleomycin
• (V) Vinblastine
• (D) Dacarbazine

This is given on a 14 day treatment schedule, and 2 treatments equates to 1 cycle of chemo.  I will receive a total of 6 cycles, 12 treatments, over the next 180 days.  

ABVD was initially tested in the mid-70's to enhance the long term prognosis over traditional treatments at the time.  It really didn't do any good to treat a person just to have them develop leukemia or secondary cancers over the next few years following treatment.  

So what is this chemo like??  Well, I'll tell you.

Day 1:  Get hooked up, watch all sorts of witchcraft enter your body.  Takes about 2 hours, and after about 3 or 4 hours you start to feel it.  You are just completely off, not like the flu, not like anything I had experienced before.  An extremely unnatural sickness takes you, headache, stomach cramps, they told me I may get a fever, but my temperature bottomed out to hypothermia levels.  Then at about 8:30 I just completely shut down and needed to sleep.

Day 2:  More of Day 1.  On day 2, you begin to rehash all the stupid stuff you did with your chemo brain on day 1.  I wasn't confused, but processing information is difficult at best and down right scary at worst.  The chemo brain thing is very real with me, simple tasks sometimes require planning and a slow methodical step by step process to ensure completion.

Day 3:  Not a bad day at all.  Went something like this:  Wake up...sleep....wake up....sleep....pee....sleep....computer work...sleep...eat....sleep...then go to bed.

Day 4:  See day 3.

Day 5:  Now things are turning around, I was able to stay up past 9 pm, I think I made it until 10 pm.  Still with the stomach cramps, headaches gone, not too tired, but absolutely no reserves to tap if needed.

Day 6:  Stomach cramps, but not a bad day.  Just don't get too excited and think it is behind you.  

Day 7:  No white blood cells (nadir point), no platelets, a giant living breathing pitri dish.  Chem destroys your WBC's and you are seriously vulnerable to infection.  If you develop a fever over 100.4, the hospital stay is coming next. 

Day 8:  PINK EYE!!!!!!!!  Then I'm told that the pink eye could lead to a much bigger infection and I need to watch it closely.  Really?? I could go to the hospital for pink eye??  YEP!!  Thankfully my fever did not go over 99.6 and the infection did not spread to anywhere else.  The topical antibiotics really did their job.  

Day 9 through 14:  Stay away from large crowds, sick kids and wash your hands often and things will be good.  Feeling good so that means treatment number 2 is just around the corner, then it's back to Day 1.

So there you have it, this will be my next 5.5 months, lather...rinse...repeat...11 more times.  

Porcupines and the Women who Love them

Just a quick story about a Trooper's life.

Many years ago I was working a night shift in Routt County Colorado.  Routt County is a mix of new, touristy ski areas in the beautiful city of Steamboat Springs, and rustic, traditional farmers and ranchers who's families have worked that land for generations.  Most often these two cultures get along just fine, but occasionally folks roll through that town who don't really understand the ways of the wild.  

Steamboat is a bit like Disney world, a beautiful, manufactured tourist area surrounded by stunningly beautiful and sometimes brutal Colorado mountains.  Every year unprepared hunters and skiers invade the countryside, most handle the terrain and altitude just fine, but others aren't prepared for some of the lessons that Colorado will teach you.  These folks just don't have an understanding about the circle of life and what a true wild animal is.  

These are the same folks that after hitting a deer in their rented Ford Explorer, will demand a vet show up to tend to it.  Well, as luck would have it,  we just happen to carry little .40 caliber veterinarians with us so it is never a problem.  

This was a fantastic midsummer's night.  It was about 1:30 am and I was just finishing up an incident on Rabbit Ears Pass.  Rabbit Ears sits just East of Steamboat and Colorado 40 runs directly over the top of it.  The pass is filled with 6% grades and can be absolutely brutal in the winter, but this was summer and a beautiful one at that.  After the paperwork was complete, killing trees one page at a time was absolutely essential in mid-90's law enforcement, I sat on the push bumper of the patrol car and just soaked in the tranquility.  

I always loved working at night.  The nights, especially toward the early morning hours, can take on a certain peacefulness when you're sitting on a mountain pass in Northern Colorado.  Knowing that everyone is tucked away sound asleep, and that if someone does decide to go off the deep end it will be yourself and probably a deputy as the final arbiter of the situation.  But this is Routt County, once out of Steamboat, the county takes on a very rural feeling, filled with good folks who take care of their own, and will police their own when necessary, so tonight was going to be a slow night. 

At 2 am the local Quick Stop would close and I was good friends with the night manager.  Usually I would stop by to make sure everything was ok, maybe have a sip of coffee or a 12 hour old hot dog, then be on my way.  This night was no different, a beautiful summer evening with lots of stars a cool breeze and not a car in sight.  

We stood just inside the gas station discussing the day's business when a frantic women came running in.  I'll never forget the look of fear and pain that was scrawled on her face.  Eyes wide open and red with exhilaration, short choppy breaths, not out of breath but the universal attempt at pain control.  Reminded me of those breathing techniques they teach in Lamaze classes.  

"I need a veterinarian!!" she wailed.  As she yelled this, she held up both her hands in front of her face, palms facing each other.  Protruding from each hand were at least a half-dozen porcupine quills.  Now these things were probably about 6 inches long, and not only stuck into her palms, but also up and down her right side.  

"Ma'am, you need a doctor," I offered, "the ER is just up the road."

"No! You don't understand, I hit an animal and I think it's hurt!"

You're probably already piecing together the chain of events that lead her to this moment.  Yep, she was driving down the road when Bam!! she whacks a porcupine.  Not fully understanding that these are really wild animals and not Disney cartoon characters, she decides to pick it up and put it on the bench seat of her little Toyota pickup.  She has a perfectly functional and empty pickup bed, but no, the front seat is such a better idea.  I walked up to the pickup and lo and behold the porcupine, now awake from its Toyota induced slumber,  is sitting in the drivers seat, one little porcupine paw on the steering wheel, the other on the car door and his face stuffed up against the window doing the best pissed off porcupine impression I've ever seen.  

Have you ever seen the movie Tommy Boy?  Just replace the deer with a porcupine and you get the gist of her little adventure.  I'd love to tell you that I went to my patrol car, opened the trunk and took out the porcupine quill removal system, or that somehow my training kicked in and I saved the day, but no.  I was standing there at 2 am looking at a seriously pissed porcupine, a woman covered in quills and no laws broken.  Let's face it, in America it's perfectly legal to drive around in a little 4 cylinder Noah's Arc, or be the psychotic purveyor of the worlds worst mobile petting zoo.  Yep, knock yourself out, this is your bed now sleep in it.  So off I went, leaving this poor soul with directions to the nearest ER and a story I'll never forget.   


This week was my second treatment and it has really hit me hard the last couple of days.  My blood counts were way low, pretty much zero immune system, so I really need to be careful.  Got many of the same side effects, burning face, numb fingers, amazingly tired, upset stomach...but at least its killing the disease also...hopefully.  

Thanks for the thoughts and prayers, they mean more than you can know.