D+5 -- An Excellent Day

Unlike the previous morning, I wake up this morning actually feeling awake. I get exactly the breakfast I order, including, for the first time, a little bit of whipped cream with the waffles. (Third time's the charm, I guess.) I also top the waffles with marionberry fruit spread, an Oregon specialty delivered by my friend Jeff, who visited last evening and is in town for several more days.

I work on a web site prototype, take a short nap, go for a walk, have lunch, take a shower, do some more work, have another nap. Jeff brings in some dinner, we start to catch up on... um... about three decades. It's a good day.

Last night, when ordering dinner, I unraveled the mystery of the single ounce of mango smoothie. The normal serving is 10 ounces, but the call-taker only managed the first digit while taking the order. So, the person filling the order was probably thinking, "Some of these patients have crazy requests, but whatever makes them happy..."

Today, I notice that I have three spare rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom, including the one I obtained myself. Had I overlooked two rolls during the Great Toilet Paper Panic of D+4? Or had housekeeping replenished my supply since then? Beats me.

Related to the Great Toilet Paper Panic was the fact that I was experiencing diarrhea. This could be the result of a bacterial infection, so they took a sample for that. It could also be a common side effect of chemotherapy. If it's bacterial, they'll add another antibiotic to my stew.  If not, they'll give me Imodium. In the meantime, the nurses want to keep track of my bowel movements. "Just let me know when you have your next one." A few hours later... I have news to share. I press the red Nurse button on my universal control. "Can I help you?" "Uh..." -- realizing that I am broadcasting this news to everyone within earshot of the nurse station -- "... my nurse wanted to know when I had a bowel movement, and I just did." "Thank you. I'll let her know." (Are they snickering? Probably not.) No matter how formal the language, and no matter that I was merely following my nurse's request, I still feel like the toddler in potty training who runs down the hall yelling, "I made a poopie!" Except I don't get a little sticker.

It has been great having Jeff visit. We were friends, teammates, and fellow theater techs in high school and again in college, and best men at each other's weddings. And then... not much contact. I knew he had moved to Oregon, but I didn't know his mother died until well after the fact. And even when I did find out, I didn't manage to get in touch. Bad friend! But as soon as he learned of my incarceration, he was proposing a visit. Good friend!

Which brings me back to why I named the parrot Leuk. Leukemia is horrible, but it has brought blessings along with the suffering. Renewing friendships, seeing how many people offer so many types of support, learning how valuable even the smallest gestures are, learning (therefore) ways I want to be better... priceless.