I had a slight setback, but I'm good now, and I'm full of a hunger to live -- to really, really live.
Shortly after finishing my most recent blog post, Post-Op, I collapsed at home. My brother was visiting, he called 911. I went back into the hospital then, Saturday afternoon, and got back home again today, Monday morning. It was only a temporary setback. My overall progress is very good.
Friday night, I had made the wrong choice in pain meds, taking an NSAID, a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug. Now I know: I should never take an NSAID again, ever. I should never take a medication without first being sure that it is not an NSAID. At first, the NSAID gave me great pain relief; but by Saturday afternoon, it had caused my blood pressure to plummet, which caused me to collapse.
I'm all better now: the NSAID has been completely flushed out of my system, my kidney function has been returned to normal. My pain level drops noticeably daily. The doctors tell me to walk. I'm walking more than they've asked me too, and they're good with that too, and working hard is speeding my recovery.
On the coming Friday, August 10, I have an appointment with my general practitioner. Monday, August 13, a week from today, I have an appointment with the urologist who performed the surgery. Either on the 10th or the 13th, I will find out more about what the chances are that I am now completely cancer-free.
My brother and I have interacted more with each in the past 48 hours than in the past 5 years before that. He and I have really drifted apart, but it seems that both of us want to change that.
Even before my recent stays in the hospital -- ever since first watching Zoolander a few months ago, in fact -- I've been working on singing the song "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother." So far, I haven't been able to sing it all the way through without breaking into full-on body-shaking sobs. Here's my advice: if you and a loved one have drifted apart, don't wait for something as drastic as the threat of cancer to make you try to patch things up.