Month: January 2023

Stormin’ Out There OR I’ll Nap When I Want To!

~ Roger JG Albert

Wed. Jan. 18, 2023 -8:50 AM

Sky is blue this morning and it’s calm with no wind, but last night I swore the sky was falling. Sure felt that way. We sleep on the south-east side of the house, that’s the direction of the prevailing wind. 

If there’s going to be a tree fall on the house during a storm, it will be from that direction, from the south-east. We seldom get strong winds at our home in Cumberland, but when they happen, they aren’t shy. 

Last night the weather had no shame, no sense of propriety. It came banging on the side of the house, undeterred by the fact that we might be sleeping (or trying to sleep) inside. The rain aimed to engrave the windows with incessant beatings. There would be no sleep, at least not until the weather lost its angry edge. 

One thing about sleeplessness is that my brain has plenty of time to speculate on things transpiring in the midlin’ parts of my body. Normally my brain is in denial, but storms put a wrench into that. The storms seem to amplify the ‘discomfort’ I feel in my back. Most of the time I don’t think about it. It may be that atmospheric pressure has something to do with the pain in my midsection, but that’s only speculation on my brain’s part. The pain is real, though. 

I was supposed to get a visit today from my palliative care doctor, but she was called away to an emergency so we’re putting that off until next week. 

Thursday, January 19, 2023 – 8:00 AM

0.0˚C. Jeez. That’s cold in my books. Looks like winter is carrying on. It’s going to hang around for some time yet, whether we like it or not. There’s no denying that. It may be that we escape more serious dumps of snow, but there’s no guarantee of that either. Ski patrollers would like to see lots of snow fall and we do need as big a snowpack as we can get, but I don’t welcome snow. I’m decidedly not a cold weather person. I like to sit by our politically incorrect woodstove, especially when I just get up in the morning and Carolyn has got a fire going in our new, very efficient Pacific Energy woodstove (rated at 1.8 parts per million). Ah, a nice wood fire, warm and welcoming, along with a nice cup of coffee. Life is good, isn’t it? Well, there is that other thing. 

My back has been a challenge lately with constant ‘stitches’. The pain isn’t horrible, but it is a pain in the butt (a little higher, actually) and pushes me to take more hydromorphone. If I take 4 mgs of breakthrough hydromorphone on top of the 18 mgs of the slow-release flavour, I can usually fall asleep and stay that way for a while. Lately, I’ve taken to sleeping in my recliner. It’s much more restrictive than my usual bed because it’s so much narrower, but also much more flexible in terms of position. Actually, I find my recliner quite comfortable to sleep in. Come to think of it, I may want to use it tonight.

Now, enter the game-changer. The Home Care team has arranged to have a hospital bed delivered to the house next week for my pleasure and sleeping enjoyment. This bed is kindly provided by the Canadian Red Cross and is available to me for as long as I need it. That has me a little unnerved, but I need to accept it in the same spirit it was offered. Thank you, Red Cross. 

The problem is that all the people I’ve ever known to get a hospital bed delivered to their homes have not come out alive. I guess that’s to be expected, but I don’t feel as though I’m that close to the final frontier. So, I’m of two minds about the hospital bed. On the one hand, yes, I want it because I think it would increase my level of sleepy time comfort and probably reduce my dependence on opioids. On the other hand, anything that reminds me of hospitals leaves me a little cold. 

I suppose the best thing for me to do is relax. Not sure I can do that. I’ll work on it. 

Friday, January 20, 2023 ~7:30 AM

The menagerie awakens to growling tummies. The cats, Princess and Sunshine, are prancing around wary of each other, but impatient for breakfast. Sunshine is a guest, Arianne’s cat who is here waiting for the renovations to their house in Vancouver to be finished allowing him to finally go home and relax on his favourite perch on the back porch. 

Tilly is impatient. She has that big tummy to fill up and she’s quite convinced that she will starve to death given that Carolyn hasn’t fed her yet and it’s getting late. Cooper, the neighbour’s dog sits at the deck doors waiting for something. He’s not sure what, but he’s convinced that it’s in here whatever it is. Food, maybe? A spot in front of the woodstove, maybe? Making decisions is tough. Every once in a while he lets out a bark, not one with great conviction, and just loud enough to ensure that the residents of this place know that he’s out there and needs something. What? Who knows?

Tilly is on guard making sure Cooper doesn’t exceed his privilege. She charges him from this side of the door. 

I had a good sleep last night. It was one of those rare ones. The pain in my back wasn’t present enough to wake me up and I didn’t have to pee. I slept a solid seven hours straight. Miraculous! 

My back is still twitching but that should attenuate shortly because I just took my meds, and they will take care of the twitching. After that, I’ll take a nap. I probably don’t need a nap, but it’s my right as an old man to nap whenever I feel like it. 

ActualIy, I nap out of a sense of duty. If I don’t nap, the government might feel justified in removing that privilege from me. Governments are like that, you know, according to the CPC. Liberals and Trudeau are always waiting to pounce to revoke our privileges. Bad government! Be scared of bad government! Be scared of everything! LOL! Ha Ha! He! He!

Keep Busy, Don’t You Know!

~ Roger JG Albert ~ 8 Comments

In my last post I mentioned that I’ve put together one hundred and fifty thousand words on my blog since I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma in the fall of 2019. 

Looking back on my many posts, I’m now concluding that I’ve said pretty much all I want to say about my relationship with myeloma. There may be a few more details I can profitably address such as increasing levels of pain, and Its location, but I have myeloma, there’s no question about that, and it’s going to kill me. Now that I’m palliative and not under the care of any oncologists, I feel that all I have left to do is take a schwack of pain meds and wait to die. 

Thursday, Jan. 12, 2023 –  ~ 11 AM

This morning I got up at 7 or so in anticipation of going to the hospital for a lab visit. I was feeling just fine until I went into the bathroom to ablute. I got my gear out, but while I was doing that, I felt a twinge of pain in my ‘gut’ area (generally in my midsection, right through my body.) Soon, that twinge developed into generalized pain severe enough to take my breath away). Then it ramped up to a 9 or so on the 10-point scale. As soon as I realized that the pain had got to a 5 or 6, I started taking hydromorphone breakthrough meds. I took three times as much as I would normally take. I also took some dexamethasone (8 mgs). I was supposed to take 4 mgs). I also took some acetaminophen (1000 mgs). 

It took an hour to an hour and a half to settle the pain down to a 4-5 on the 5-point scale although at the time I thought that the pain would never attenuate. I thought that dying at that point might be a good idea.  

Pain, in and of itself is not a bad thing. It signals that something is wrong in the body that needs correcting. (This is a perspective inherent in the pathological end of the medical spectrum.) Pain may never be eliminated from a body. 

Earlier I wrote that: ‘Now that I’m palliative and not under the care of any oncologists, I feel that all I have left to do is take a schwack of pain meds and wait to die.’ Well, what of that? 

We all wait to die. But we’re not supposed to do that, don’t you know? It just isn’t right. We’re not supposed to just sit around waiting to die. Actually, it’s downright immoral to just wait around for anything, especially for dying. As humans we’re meant to move around, to get ‘er done! Ironically, we go on vacation every once in a while with a major goal of sitting or lying around doing nothing. There’s a contradiction there, but we can ignore it if we turn away and don’t pay any attention to it.

People do get freaked out when they see people in care homes not doing a lot of anything. “Look at all the crumblies, laying around, just waiting to die! They aren’t productive. They can’t even clean their own bums.” We’re supposed to DO something, anything. “The devil makes work for idle hands” don’t you know? 

Yes, true on all counts. But before we get all self-righteous, we should consider what is so morally superior about doing things. I’ve already written somewhere that, following Ernest Becker, we think of wealth and health as the two most important moral imperatives in our lives and in our civilization (although we very seldom think in those kinds of abstract categories). 

Since we’re already primed for thinking about things on a ten-point scale, can we think about morality and health on a scale? Maybe using a scale where a 5 is average (the mean in statistical language) and the extremes are at 1 and 10? What would morality and health look like on a scale of 1 to 10? Caution: this analysis is simplistic in the extreme but it works on a very basic, silly way.

The scale would look something like this I think: If you’re a 10 you’re buzzing with activity. You can’t stop. You run marathons every week. You have two jobs, or you make money by investing in stocks and bonds. The downside about being a 10 is that you’re possibly on your third marriage because nobody can stand to live with you for any length of time. Thus, if you’re not actively pursuing wealth and are not super healthy, buff and running marathons, you probably suck. At 1 you suck a lot, at 3, yeah, you suck, but not irretrievably. If you’re a 5 you’re probably normal in our world. You probably have a decent job, and you do some exercise. Nobody’s going to look up to you, but, conversely, nobody is going to look down on you either. 

If you’re a 1, you’re a slob, a poor slob. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge). 

Let’s look at this ‘distribution’ statistically.* If you draw a random sample of the population on a characteristic like height. you should come up with about 68.2% of the population who ‘fit’ within one standard deviation from the mean, or the average. Leaving aside height for a moment, in moral terms, if you’re on the left side of this histogram, you tend to the sucky side of life. On the other side of the mean you tend to the above normal side of life. You’re nothing special, but you’re a nice, positive person. You know, nice and positive. Further up the scale and we can detect sugar dripping from your lips. 

From: http://openbooks.library.umass.edu/p132-lab-manual/  Physics 132 Lab Manual by Brokk Toggerson and Aidan Philbin.

The further you get on the left side of the distribution, the suckier you get until you dissolve into a slimy pile of suck. It’s good that not very many people fit into that category because wading through slimy piles of suck could be downright tiring at times. The fewer of those around the better. Rain puddles are way better, in my opinion. 

Well, this is all well and good. We judge people all the time, even the way we die. We live in a very strange world if you haven’t noticed yet. We are a very strange species. 

If you want to stay on the good side of your civilization, keep busy and try not to let your knuckles drag while you walk down the street. 

__________________________________________________

*I wouldn’t take ‘statistically’ very seriously here. Just having a bit of fun. Oh, the histogram is fine, but fitting morality and health into it may not be so fitting. 

__________________________________________________

January 13, 2023. 

Today is the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death. She died in 2018 at the age of 94. I miss her even though I barely saw her at all in the last few years of her life. 

It’s my Birthday.

~ Roger JG Albert ~ 11 Comments

Yeah, it’s my birthday. No big deal.

I’m starting on my 77th year. That seems like a long time, but time is relative. I just finished a book by Steve Brusatte, The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs. Time in the context of dinosaurs is measured in millions of years. Even then, two million years is a relatively short period of time. Now, I’m reading another Brusatte book, The Rise and Reign of the Mammals: A New History, from the Shadow of the Dinosaurs to Us. It’s all very complicated stuff, and it’s certainly true that mammals got a leg up following the crash of the Cretaceous sixty-six million years ago thanks to an asteroid strike in what is now the Gulf of Mexico. In the next few weeks I’ll look for a good book on the differences between the prokaryotes and the eukaryotes and the evolution of the latter into us, eventually (after hundreds of millions of years).

So, to say that I’ve lived for 76 years is not saying much. The context is what’s important.

I think most people would agree that I’ve had a good life. Being a white male has given me substantial advantage to start with, and I was able to build on that foundation to create a decent life for myself and my family (albeit, one based on patriarchy).

This post will be very short because I’m not motivated to put out a regular length bit of writing but I’ll put out a couple of posts soon enough. I need to comment on oncology and the few other things. I don’t have an active relationship with myeloma at the moment. Obviously the disease is have a field day in my innards and I want to write about that. But that’s for another day.