Being in the hospital

I have been in the hospital for 12 days now. It is exhausting. I am much weaker now than I was when I was admitted to the hospital. Physical therapists have come around twice to encourage my walking, but I have barely managed to sit with my feet flat on the ground, a per-step for standing. The occupational therapist visited me today and encouraged me to get in the wheelchair. I wheeled myself around the floor. I felt strong as I pushed myself around the hallway. Of course, by the time I got back to my room, my arms were very tired.

While wheeling myself around, I found myself more engaged in my experience than I had been for a while. Being in the hospital, on a constant stream of morphine, puts me in a semi-awake state where reality is slippery. I can close my eyes and enter a dream any time. When friends visit in the evening, I find myself struggling to stay awake partly because the strain of focusing on their conversation is fatiguing. I don't have to focus on anything else. I watch terrible television. I try to read, but I don't have enough focus and I get too confused. I feel like drawing would help, but I can't seem to start.

I am afraid that I just don't have too much to say or to add to conversation. Now, I have lost many things this year: my ability to walk, my hair (twice!), my ability to work, my focus, my appetite, being pain free, my independence, etc. My difficulty in conversation is as painful as my difficulty walking. I find it harder to connect to people and end up feeling isolated. I know other people probably also have trouble figuring out what to say to me, too. I always want to hear about everyone's adventures. I want all the people who can walk to have fun with it. I want all my friends to be bike riding, dancing, running around, taking relaxing showers (or baths), enjoying the weather, mushroom hunting, backpacking, cooking, and generally doing all of things I miss doing so badly.

On the other hand, I have more difficulty in empathically listening to folks talking about their day-to-day problems. I used to be a lot of people's "listener", where I would be a sounding board for their problems and worries. I would listen to dating problems, uncomfortable social circumstances, work situations, and family problems. Now, I have trouble listening because it requires so much focus. Also, so many problems seem small and petty. It seems like most of these problems would disappear if we all treated ourselves and the people around us with respect and compassion. I feel jealous sometimes because my biggest problem is cancer, and no amount of respect is going to get rid of it.

Speaking of cancer, I probably should update you on my health. The doctors took away the constant stream of morphine on Sunday. On Monday, they took away the "on demand" stream of morphine. Now, I take 5 little red pills (extended release morphine), an ocean-colored pill (quick acting morphine), or 4mL of morphine injected into the tubes that flow into my chest. I have had more pain lately, but I think it is mostly muscular, as I haven't been moving.

I have had 5 radiation treatments. My knee looks way less swollen than it was. I have more mobility when I squoosh from the hospital bed to the stretcher when I go to radiation. Dr K said that she is going to stay focused on my soft tissues but will have to go back and do radiation on part of my femur because she saw "something" in the bone. In the moment, I didn't ask what that meant. Today, I asked my oncologist and she said it isn't cancer, that it could be from drugs to stimulate white blood cells or something else. She wanted to blast them with radiation to be on the safe side.

One of the doctors on the treatment team thinks I may have an infection, so I am back on antibiotics. Also, I have been having a super crappy appetite and find myself barely eating. Nothing tastes good and my stomach feels off, like when I am hungover. I know eating is so important, but it is hard when it feels like I am forcing myself.