JE Day 5: Relaxation & Being With
Today was the day I now realize I was waiting for.
While the alarm was set for 8:30, Chester was awake by 7:40 or so, so I got up and we got up. We had a really wonderful melon for the first course of breakfast, then the normal course of scone porridge. I had corn and cherry this morning, by God, and it is good.
Chester wanted a shower today. He first wanted to install the diverter, so that instead of just the sprayer, there would be a shower head and the sprayer, and both bathers could be comfortable. I knew where the diverter was, yet we didn't know where the original showerhead was. Hm. Chester knew he'd seen it. We looked all over, then while I was looking out in the main room, he found it in the bottom drawer of the bathroom. Yes, he had seen it. I got it installed with Chester's supervision (oh THAT'S how much Teflon tape yer supposed to use!); however there was only 25 minutes until our call at nine, and we decided we didn't want to be rushed. We would make the call half naked. ;-)
I typed an email response Chester dictated, then we had the conference call for the Rehabilitation Without Walls team; this included Jenny, the team leader (I assume) and speech therapist; Doreen, the physical therapist; and June, the occupational therapist (whom I haven't met yet - will tomorrow), and Chrys, Chester, and me. The call lasted ~40 minutes; the bottom line is that Chester had made great gains before the last setback, and after the last stay in the hospital is near back where he started. However, everyone is hopeful he will make the same progress he did and then continue. One challenge is that it is unclear whether the insurance company will pay for more rehab--Jenny will be looking into that with them. Please see the insurance company and the woman who is our contact as being kind and compassionate, giving Chester what he needs. I'm not even going to make a joke--please simply see this.
I checked in with Chester after the call. He agreed the assessments were accurate and hopeful.
[As I type this, I hear a now-familiar sound from beyond the wall behind me. It sounds as though the trees Chester is sawing down are fighting back. Unfortunately for them, he will win; I believe it to be preordained.]
Next it was time for our shower. Chester has a shower seat that extends from the tub out onto the floor. Transfer to the seat, put legs into the tub, scoot over. There's a back on it so that he can rest comfortably. The diverter worked exceedingly well--I turned it about half-way, so that we were both comfortable. The shower was a wonderful, relaxing time - we took about an hour. I washed Chester thoroughly (all but his head - we wash the top of his head carefully during the day to protect the sutures and guard from infection). It was a fine dance with an interplay of limbs, balance and pressure. It was a really wonderful way to connect, and a level of connection we hadn't had yet, even with the intimacy of sharing food, un/dressing, bathroom support, holding his hand during infusions and the tears we'd shared so far. Then I washed myself and had him wash my back. One warning if you ever bathe this way, as the stander: when bending down, pay attention to where the pin on the spout is in relation to your ass. At one point I leaned down and punched it with my right glute, dropping the water from the shower to the lower spout. Four inches to the left and, well, let's just say I would be going steady with Chester's shower, and would have to clear it with my boyfriend, Kevin.
And of course he was going to teach me something new. I started drying myself off - you can imagine how I was doing it. He stopped me. "No rubbing. Still. Pat dry." So he showed me the dance of wrapping the towel here, rubbing lightly on the towel, then moving the towel and doing it again, then slowly dragging the towel over this part, etc. Very nice.
Next it was time to put on the new pressure socks. As you might imagine, they are tight - between 30 and 40 mmHg (mm Mercury), if that means anything to you. The woman at the store yesterday showed us the best way to do it. Thank God--it would be almost a Herculean task otherwise. Some adjustment will need to be made at the inner bend of the knee and perhaps the upper bend of the ankle--the fabric was bunching regardless of how much I stretched it. Tomorrow I will try gauze there per the suggestion. We then finished dressing him, then I dressed.
I then cleaned his head with gauze and a 50/50 HO/H2O blend. I began to use a bit more pressure (periodically checking with Chester) and A LOT of the radiation-burned skin flaked off, leaving slightly pink, healthy look skin underneath. ALL of it came off his forehead, and most in the right-front quadrant. Chester concurred that Chrys will be jealous (sorry Chrys). When I held up the mirror he was impressed with the change. He looks great. This on top of the nice trim yesterday and he looks like a new man. It felt great to me to see this change.
Jaime dropped by so we went to lunch at Mel's. Wow, these two are regulars. After this Jaime drove us up to Forest Hill where Chester lived before his surgery.
[Good god--it sounds like the trees are giving Chester a run for his money! I'd go out to ensure he's ok, but with the sawdust and wood chips flying under the door, I don't dare.]
I've never gone up in the hills above Berkeley before, although I've admired them on all previous visits. Fun driving through all the curves. The view of the bay was gorgeous. We got to the house; Chester chose to remain in the house while Jaime gave me the tour. I knew it was coming, and there it was: a good hard cry upon seeing Chester's things in the apartment. Much of it was familiar to me even though I hadn't seen it since he lived in Concord when I was here four years ago. Jaime gave me great support. We then went into Chester's massage space--a temple, he later called it. Another big wave.
Yeah, so I surrender to the fact that my blog entries are about me as well with this side story. When I was in Nepal after college in 1990 my friend Mary and I were walking through the streets on the edge of Khattmandu when all of a sudden I simply stopped. I turned toward this little open store, walked toward it and picked up this little egg-shaped black thing. Weirdest damn thing I ever experienced--I simply walked toward it and placed my hand on it without thinking. I don't know what compelled me or why I was attracted to it. I knew it was for Chester. The gentleman explained a bit of what it was; I don't remember if I got it or not. It didn't matter; it was for Chester. I carried it for 3-1/2 months until I got home. I gave it to Chester at our next meeting. I would normally say he looked at me with surprise, but I can't because he didn't. He looked at me with some kind of gravity or appreciation and explained that it was a lingam of Shiva, a phallus. I had brought him something he valued, and was very gratified for it.
I saw that lingam today sitting on one of the alters on a shelf by the door. I recognized it immediately, and got another wave. I'm more open right now than I've ever been. If you know Chester you know someone who played a big part in that, so I won't bore you with more about it.
We dropped Jaime at his car; the rest of the day was my time with Chester alone. We went to Alta Bates for today's Lovenox shot. We got our vibrator pager thingie and sat down in the waiting room. During our conversation I mentioned to Chester that I was getting good at quick hard cries and BOOM big wave. Totally unexpected, and Chester came with it. Have I mentioned the tissues yet? Hmmm. a search tells me no. I went to the gentleman at the desk and asked for tissues. This is the third time I've done this. They don't have tissues sitting out--if they are needed, a small box is give with the instruction, "you can keep these." I'm guessing some sort of sanitation thing in the waiting room of a cancer treatment center. So this was our third box. The guy kinda scrambled for the box - I think we've cleaned him out at his desk this week. I joked with Chester we should bring our own. "Or start a collection," he suggested. That we have - there are now three boxes in his car.
The nice woman in the treatment room (I keep forgetting to look at her tag) gave Chester his shot. Each shot becomes a bruise: a shot always bruises to begin with, but the Lovenox causes more bruising because it thins the blood in the area. The bruises are about 2 or 3" in diameter. She remarked to Chester that she hoped he wasn't going to associate her with the bruises. I chimed in that he associates the needle with the bruises; her he just likes. Chester asked to be weighed and she helped him with that. Hmm. He's gained some weight (it would be indelicate of me to say any more than this. There's transparency in this blog, then there's just plain uncivilized behavior). This can be chalked up to the Dexamethasone (hunger goes way up - same thing happened to my cat when he took it years ago), as well as our devouring entire schools of fish this week. I'm a bit afraid to step on the scale when I get home...
We stopped to get some ice cream on the way home, and I bought the last three corn cherry scones at the Arizmendi Bakery. We got back and after a few minutes Chester said with surprise and resignation, "I need to lay down." It's been a long week, and we are both pretty crapped out. However, my body isn't recovering from several assaults like his.
I went out to the courtyard to make a call. Boy this place is full of yuppies - I was one of three people on cell phones--cracked me up. I made my regularly scheduled call with my friend Patricia and cried through the first half of it. (Am I coming across as a weepy old woman? [No offense to you weepy old women out there.]) I then returned a call to my sister Jennifer, then returned to the apartment. Chester had already gotten himself up. We weren't really hungry yet. We chatted for a while, then Chester resigned again to being exhausted and stated he wanted to go to bed. The pecan pie and vanilla ice cream would go uneaten tonight.
I laid down with him and we talked some, mostly just being together. After a while he suddenly stated he needed to sit up. His breathing felt a bit congested. I just sat with him, although my antenna was up and my concern was headed that direction too. I asked what was happening and got an "I don't know," which is a response he gives from time to time, especially when he's tired or stressed. I took his temperature--fine. I rearranged the mountain of pillows so that he was leaning more upright against pillows against the wall, and his leg's were also elevated. I then joined him again and we had the talk that I referred to in the first line of this entry. This portion is private--suffice it to say we continued some discussions we've had for 16 years and found greater clarity. Lots of crying (especially by your weepy old woman). There are still tissues all over the floor out there; at this point in my life tears are badges of success. We then just were together and ended up dozing for probably an hour. He awoke to go to the bathroom and was then truly ready for bed. I once again moved the mountains for Mohammed and sent him off to the next battle of The Great Woodland War. [Speaking of which, someone just put high octane fuel in the chainsaw or whatever the hell it is he's using. When will this carnage end?]
And now I sit doing this.
One note please: I made several decisions when I made this trip. One was that I was going to do a fair amount of blogging. I figure I can do anything for a week. Know that there is no way on God's green Earth that I could do this much blogging for more than a week. Until Chester regains more of his strength, thus lessening the need for all the "T's" (OT, PT, ST), giving him care is a 24/7 job. Make no mistake--when I sleep in this bed I do so with the door open. I wake up when he does and pay attention to whether he wants assistance. Hovering? From afar. I will ask if he wants assistance (I never use 'need'), and quite often he doesn't. I'm impressed with how he is able to maneuver his body and the pillows.
Anyway, the bottom line is: please don't expect this much blogging when I leave California. It's just not possible. I wanted to make sure no one thought I was setting any kind of a bar for the blog. Besides, I'm long-winded and like to hear myself talk. Others around here are more sensible.
Hmmm. It's after midnight again. That's it for the night. Tomorrow's my last full day. I know at least one good thing that will happen tomorrow. You may not be impressed by it, yet Chester is going to love it. I'll leave you hanging in suspense until then. Good night, gentle reader.
While the alarm was set for 8:30, Chester was awake by 7:40 or so, so I got up and we got up. We had a really wonderful melon for the first course of breakfast, then the normal course of scone porridge. I had corn and cherry this morning, by God, and it is good.
Chester wanted a shower today. He first wanted to install the diverter, so that instead of just the sprayer, there would be a shower head and the sprayer, and both bathers could be comfortable. I knew where the diverter was, yet we didn't know where the original showerhead was. Hm. Chester knew he'd seen it. We looked all over, then while I was looking out in the main room, he found it in the bottom drawer of the bathroom. Yes, he had seen it. I got it installed with Chester's supervision (oh THAT'S how much Teflon tape yer supposed to use!); however there was only 25 minutes until our call at nine, and we decided we didn't want to be rushed. We would make the call half naked. ;-)
I typed an email response Chester dictated, then we had the conference call for the Rehabilitation Without Walls team; this included Jenny, the team leader (I assume) and speech therapist; Doreen, the physical therapist; and June, the occupational therapist (whom I haven't met yet - will tomorrow), and Chrys, Chester, and me. The call lasted ~40 minutes; the bottom line is that Chester had made great gains before the last setback, and after the last stay in the hospital is near back where he started. However, everyone is hopeful he will make the same progress he did and then continue. One challenge is that it is unclear whether the insurance company will pay for more rehab--Jenny will be looking into that with them. Please see the insurance company and the woman who is our contact as being kind and compassionate, giving Chester what he needs. I'm not even going to make a joke--please simply see this.
I checked in with Chester after the call. He agreed the assessments were accurate and hopeful.
[As I type this, I hear a now-familiar sound from beyond the wall behind me. It sounds as though the trees Chester is sawing down are fighting back. Unfortunately for them, he will win; I believe it to be preordained.]
Next it was time for our shower. Chester has a shower seat that extends from the tub out onto the floor. Transfer to the seat, put legs into the tub, scoot over. There's a back on it so that he can rest comfortably. The diverter worked exceedingly well--I turned it about half-way, so that we were both comfortable. The shower was a wonderful, relaxing time - we took about an hour. I washed Chester thoroughly (all but his head - we wash the top of his head carefully during the day to protect the sutures and guard from infection). It was a fine dance with an interplay of limbs, balance and pressure. It was a really wonderful way to connect, and a level of connection we hadn't had yet, even with the intimacy of sharing food, un/dressing, bathroom support, holding his hand during infusions and the tears we'd shared so far. Then I washed myself and had him wash my back. One warning if you ever bathe this way, as the stander: when bending down, pay attention to where the pin on the spout is in relation to your ass. At one point I leaned down and punched it with my right glute, dropping the water from the shower to the lower spout. Four inches to the left and, well, let's just say I would be going steady with Chester's shower, and would have to clear it with my boyfriend, Kevin.
And of course he was going to teach me something new. I started drying myself off - you can imagine how I was doing it. He stopped me. "No rubbing. Still. Pat dry." So he showed me the dance of wrapping the towel here, rubbing lightly on the towel, then moving the towel and doing it again, then slowly dragging the towel over this part, etc. Very nice.
Next it was time to put on the new pressure socks. As you might imagine, they are tight - between 30 and 40 mmHg (mm Mercury), if that means anything to you. The woman at the store yesterday showed us the best way to do it. Thank God--it would be almost a Herculean task otherwise. Some adjustment will need to be made at the inner bend of the knee and perhaps the upper bend of the ankle--the fabric was bunching regardless of how much I stretched it. Tomorrow I will try gauze there per the suggestion. We then finished dressing him, then I dressed.
I then cleaned his head with gauze and a 50/50 HO/H2O blend. I began to use a bit more pressure (periodically checking with Chester) and A LOT of the radiation-burned skin flaked off, leaving slightly pink, healthy look skin underneath. ALL of it came off his forehead, and most in the right-front quadrant. Chester concurred that Chrys will be jealous (sorry Chrys). When I held up the mirror he was impressed with the change. He looks great. This on top of the nice trim yesterday and he looks like a new man. It felt great to me to see this change.
Jaime dropped by so we went to lunch at Mel's. Wow, these two are regulars. After this Jaime drove us up to Forest Hill where Chester lived before his surgery.
[Good god--it sounds like the trees are giving Chester a run for his money! I'd go out to ensure he's ok, but with the sawdust and wood chips flying under the door, I don't dare.]
I've never gone up in the hills above Berkeley before, although I've admired them on all previous visits. Fun driving through all the curves. The view of the bay was gorgeous. We got to the house; Chester chose to remain in the house while Jaime gave me the tour. I knew it was coming, and there it was: a good hard cry upon seeing Chester's things in the apartment. Much of it was familiar to me even though I hadn't seen it since he lived in Concord when I was here four years ago. Jaime gave me great support. We then went into Chester's massage space--a temple, he later called it. Another big wave.
Yeah, so I surrender to the fact that my blog entries are about me as well with this side story. When I was in Nepal after college in 1990 my friend Mary and I were walking through the streets on the edge of Khattmandu when all of a sudden I simply stopped. I turned toward this little open store, walked toward it and picked up this little egg-shaped black thing. Weirdest damn thing I ever experienced--I simply walked toward it and placed my hand on it without thinking. I don't know what compelled me or why I was attracted to it. I knew it was for Chester. The gentleman explained a bit of what it was; I don't remember if I got it or not. It didn't matter; it was for Chester. I carried it for 3-1/2 months until I got home. I gave it to Chester at our next meeting. I would normally say he looked at me with surprise, but I can't because he didn't. He looked at me with some kind of gravity or appreciation and explained that it was a lingam of Shiva, a phallus. I had brought him something he valued, and was very gratified for it.
I saw that lingam today sitting on one of the alters on a shelf by the door. I recognized it immediately, and got another wave. I'm more open right now than I've ever been. If you know Chester you know someone who played a big part in that, so I won't bore you with more about it.
We dropped Jaime at his car; the rest of the day was my time with Chester alone. We went to Alta Bates for today's Lovenox shot. We got our vibrator pager thingie and sat down in the waiting room. During our conversation I mentioned to Chester that I was getting good at quick hard cries and BOOM big wave. Totally unexpected, and Chester came with it. Have I mentioned the tissues yet? Hmmm. a search tells me no. I went to the gentleman at the desk and asked for tissues. This is the third time I've done this. They don't have tissues sitting out--if they are needed, a small box is give with the instruction, "you can keep these." I'm guessing some sort of sanitation thing in the waiting room of a cancer treatment center. So this was our third box. The guy kinda scrambled for the box - I think we've cleaned him out at his desk this week. I joked with Chester we should bring our own. "Or start a collection," he suggested. That we have - there are now three boxes in his car.
The nice woman in the treatment room (I keep forgetting to look at her tag) gave Chester his shot. Each shot becomes a bruise: a shot always bruises to begin with, but the Lovenox causes more bruising because it thins the blood in the area. The bruises are about 2 or 3" in diameter. She remarked to Chester that she hoped he wasn't going to associate her with the bruises. I chimed in that he associates the needle with the bruises; her he just likes. Chester asked to be weighed and she helped him with that. Hmm. He's gained some weight (it would be indelicate of me to say any more than this. There's transparency in this blog, then there's just plain uncivilized behavior). This can be chalked up to the Dexamethasone (hunger goes way up - same thing happened to my cat when he took it years ago), as well as our devouring entire schools of fish this week. I'm a bit afraid to step on the scale when I get home...
We stopped to get some ice cream on the way home, and I bought the last three corn cherry scones at the Arizmendi Bakery. We got back and after a few minutes Chester said with surprise and resignation, "I need to lay down." It's been a long week, and we are both pretty crapped out. However, my body isn't recovering from several assaults like his.
I went out to the courtyard to make a call. Boy this place is full of yuppies - I was one of three people on cell phones--cracked me up. I made my regularly scheduled call with my friend Patricia and cried through the first half of it. (Am I coming across as a weepy old woman? [No offense to you weepy old women out there.]) I then returned a call to my sister Jennifer, then returned to the apartment. Chester had already gotten himself up. We weren't really hungry yet. We chatted for a while, then Chester resigned again to being exhausted and stated he wanted to go to bed. The pecan pie and vanilla ice cream would go uneaten tonight.
I laid down with him and we talked some, mostly just being together. After a while he suddenly stated he needed to sit up. His breathing felt a bit congested. I just sat with him, although my antenna was up and my concern was headed that direction too. I asked what was happening and got an "I don't know," which is a response he gives from time to time, especially when he's tired or stressed. I took his temperature--fine. I rearranged the mountain of pillows so that he was leaning more upright against pillows against the wall, and his leg's were also elevated. I then joined him again and we had the talk that I referred to in the first line of this entry. This portion is private--suffice it to say we continued some discussions we've had for 16 years and found greater clarity. Lots of crying (especially by your weepy old woman). There are still tissues all over the floor out there; at this point in my life tears are badges of success. We then just were together and ended up dozing for probably an hour. He awoke to go to the bathroom and was then truly ready for bed. I once again moved the mountains for Mohammed and sent him off to the next battle of The Great Woodland War. [Speaking of which, someone just put high octane fuel in the chainsaw or whatever the hell it is he's using. When will this carnage end?]
And now I sit doing this.
One note please: I made several decisions when I made this trip. One was that I was going to do a fair amount of blogging. I figure I can do anything for a week. Know that there is no way on God's green Earth that I could do this much blogging for more than a week. Until Chester regains more of his strength, thus lessening the need for all the "T's" (OT, PT, ST), giving him care is a 24/7 job. Make no mistake--when I sleep in this bed I do so with the door open. I wake up when he does and pay attention to whether he wants assistance. Hovering? From afar. I will ask if he wants assistance (I never use 'need'), and quite often he doesn't. I'm impressed with how he is able to maneuver his body and the pillows.
Anyway, the bottom line is: please don't expect this much blogging when I leave California. It's just not possible. I wanted to make sure no one thought I was setting any kind of a bar for the blog. Besides, I'm long-winded and like to hear myself talk. Others around here are more sensible.
Hmmm. It's after midnight again. That's it for the night. Tomorrow's my last full day. I know at least one good thing that will happen tomorrow. You may not be impressed by it, yet Chester is going to love it. I'll leave you hanging in suspense until then. Good night, gentle reader.
posted by Jay Edgar at 11:09 PM
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