www.cancermonster.net

9:00a
I stayed in my bed this morning listening to the sounds of my family coming awake.  At first, tiny tinkling shuffling sounds.  They grew into little words and then the TV, quite and small, added its voice.   I listened with my smile implanted across my heart.

My seven year old son, who has just recently found his modesty, didn’t know I was still hiding there in my bed.  He walked into my room with his clothes in hand and pulled the dividing curtain/door behind him.   I was still.  Standing between the beds, he started to dress. I don’t know if I made a sound or if he suddenly felt my presence, but he turned around and looked into my eyes.  “Good morning, baby.”

He gaped and jumped a foot.  And ran in the other direction, just barely clearing the door. Like a deer in the headlights, as they say.  He ran from the scene as if he encountered a stranger in his closet.  And I laughed.  A good hardy laugh that clears the soul and wakes the spirit within.  It was strange, I suppose, to encounter mom still in the bed.  Still home.  It was funny.  It was a good way to start the day.

For me, anyway.

Poor Rob.  Every child has their “fig leaf” period where they realize that they are naked.  For the first time, they duck and cover, close the doors around them and wallow in privacy.  He is the only one of my buds to have to come to this stage in a motorhome where privacy is at a premium.  The girls are over it.  As long as the curtains are down to the outside world, they are safe and comfortable.  When they do want to be alone, they can retreat to their steamer bunk and pull closed the curtain.   But Rob is searching for his alone spot and finding it nowhere.  We had not put a curtain across his bunk yet. It’s above the drivers cockpit and so narrowly close to the ceiling that he is the only one small enough to stand it. He loves his cave.  I think it is time to pull some brush over the opening.

********

10:00a
There is something that I have not told you.

I have a new medication.  This medication marked a turning point in my illness.  It was with tender explanation that my nurse handed me the prescription on Friday before I left.  It was with reluctance that I took it from her.   It was hard for me to tell Dan about it.  And it gave the pharmacist a new look to give back to me when I ordered it.

And I hesitated all weekend to write about it.

The name of the drug is MS Contin.  Didn’t mean anything to me at first either.  The generic translation is Morphine Sulfate ER.  Ahh, yah.  You too, huh?  I’ve graduated to Morphine.

I told myself early on, and anyone who would listen as well, that I would never take morphine in a pill.   I have know people who were on Morphine and when they turned their backs I shook my head just the way you are doing now. I can wear that “”they-have-one-foot-in-the-grave”" look as well as the next person.  I don’t want morphine.  But then again, I don’t want Cancer either.  We don’t always get what we want.

I don’t want to be nauseous and camping out in the bathroom.  And I don’t want to be in pain.  The Vicodin seems to have been causing the intestinal problems while still not covering the aches. BB explained to me that at large doses, Vicodin can cause Tylenol poisoning - Acetaminophen being the largest part of the mix.  Taking the Contin once every twelve hours will keep me on an even keel.  The morphine will be released slowly over the entire period and not dumped all at once in my system.  Then, if, and only if, I feel breakthrough pain, I can take one Vicodin, just one.

It makes sense.  But it’s still hard to swallow.  I am going to have to work hard not to add this to the pile of guilt I am already carrying around.  It wasn’t cheap.

It upset my husband.  He couldn’t talk about it.  Mostly because I wouldn’t let him, I think.  I wish I hadn’t told him the generic name.   What’s in a name?  “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.“  A narcotic is a narcotic is a narcotic.  Blah blah blah.  But this narcotic carries a bad reputation of desperation.  And impending death.

Morphine is just another reminder that this is all very real.

I have Cancer.

I have Morphine.

I was bound to get them both eventually.

I have taken the Contin instead of the Vicodin for two days now and I have to tell you I feel better.  Almost normal (If I could remember what normal feels like).  I am not nauseous and I was not afraid to eat my dinner last night.  My mind feels freer and my mouth is running over.  I haven’t stopped talking since I laughed at my boy first thing this morning.  In the middle of the night, I woke once pretty loopy, but I think I can avoid that by taking less of the other pills that I have been taking to put me asleep.

Less is more, see?  Less Vicodin, less sleeping pills, less nausea.

It’s OK.  I’m on morphine, but it doesn’t mean I am dying.  In fact, I feel more alive today than I have in a while.  It’s OK.

Am I telling my family it’s OK or just myself?  It doesn’t matter.  We all need to know.

I’m hungry.  Time for breakfast.

********

8:00p
Oh, we had a great day. I’ll give you the short version.

We did laundry!  Here in the park’s laundro-mat.  I played with the kids on the playground.  I actually got on the teeter-totter with Jaymi.  She was always too high and I got tired fast from pushing off over and over.  We giggled though. And that was what counted.  Then we made the fastest trip to Wal-Mart that one could do from twenty-five miles away. (I was able to walk through the store this time, although I did get tired.  But I did it!)  We stopped off at a little market on the way home for some cold food and chicken fingers from the deli for dinner. (We ate them in the car to save time.)

We got home at six and changed into our swim suits for a jump in the lake across the street.  It was nice.  We left our cell phones in the car and didn’t even worry about them.  The water was cold, but not as cold as the ocean!  The last time we were there I didn’t get in the water.  I wasn’t completely healed from my first surgery then.  But I was the first in the water this trip.   Oh, it was so nice.  Unfortunately, I didn’t even bring the camera.

When we got home, I made Rob’s curtain in less than ten minutes!   A tension rod, a cut-down twin sheet and some iron-down tape called “Stitch Witchery” for the hem.  It looks great.  Robbie was elated.  Should have done it a long time ago.  I just didn’t notice it was a problem for him and he never said a thing.  What a (little) Guy!

It’s late, now.  9:30p.  I just took my MS Contin.  I did a lot today.  More than I have been able to do in a while.  I’m not nauseous.  I was tired at times throughout the day, but I made it through.  And I would have to attribute the change to the Morphine.  I was happier.  I had more fun.  I was almost my old self.

Go figure.

Tomorrow, I will let BB know how much I appreciate her going to bat for me.  She will be surprised to know that I know it was her idea to make the change.

Sometimes, less is more.