Hello one and all...
To some whom I have talked with quite a bit, I may seem to have disappeared for a bit. True. I had just been doing 5 days straight of a new chemo (for me), which I just finished yesterday.
For those of you taking notes and doing research - it's Mitoxantrone. And it was nice to find out AFTER I just finished it, that this was by far the most intense in the series of chemos I had done. So... I had been feeling not quite ill, but more in a flustered state of mind where I didn't really want to have any conversations that required putting too many sentences together. And as most of you know, me not being able to communicate is truly frustrating.
But that's all done with, and I thought I'd put up a blog to fill you in with the - always adventurous - new news. For one... amongst the side-effects, I only had a bit of a headache and very subtle nauseated feeling. I found that ginger works pretty good and dealing with that.
Then... I had a very neat party trick. About an hour after each chemo shot... I would pee a green-blue. That was fun.
The first time was the freakiest. I had already been warned, but forgot. So... I got out of the hospital and went straight to the Whole Foods Market to shop. While there, I had to pee (in the bathroom, not the store). I casually glance down and "WHAT?!" It was an odd mixed color of green and blue. Certainly not the yellow that we all take for granted. My mind began thinking frantically about if I had eaten some really bad vegetables earlier in the day.
But upon remembering the effects notes, I quickly resumed my normal day. HA!! Yeah, try it. It's fun.
OK... so yesterday was Friday, Dec. 2.
Right before going to the hospital, I remembered that Trans-Siberian Orchestra was playing in town. I had to go. Their show is amazing, and it was seated, so I wouldn't have to worry about overly exerting. So, promptly after receiving my final dose of major chemo, off I went straight to the concert. Amazing how loud music removes all nausea and fatigue. hehehe... Good stuff.
I ran into friends I hadn't seen in at least 10 - 15 years, met with the band, and home I went. And now, I feel "ugh!" Not too bad, but I could choose to feel a bit more... "peppy". Of course, at 3 am, I might just be tired. Hmm... there's a thought.
I had mentioned to the nurse at the hospital that I can see how others might feel bad and that I'm lucky to not feel that way. But she gave me more of an assurance that it really is myself to thank for my relative well-being, as I am always "up" all the time. Always busy, always pretty cheery, and just plain don't have time to mope about silly crap like... well, cancer.
A nurses’ assistant laughed the previous day and had said, that she couldn't see me dying... ever! Ah well, I guess I'll keep my attitude. it seems to work, and inspires others to stop whining. Thank God! hehehe...
And with that, I bid you adieu, as I head to bed. Ciao 2 all, Phillippe :)
PS... for those new friends out there who don't know what's fully going on... I reccomend reading my earlier blogs, going back to the beginning of August. Fun stuff. Yes, I'm still planning on writing a book about it all. PSS... Oh yeah, and for anyone who is sick and getting treated, I might mention that after 5 days of getting chemo IVs, OUCH!! My arm has it's spots of dull, throbbing pains from where they stuck me. Trust me, they missed more than a couple of times and had to "re-do" a few times. Grrr... but, grin and bear it. Gotta do what you gotta do.
Showing posts with label concert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label concert. Show all posts
Saturday, December 3, 2005
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Green Day - my first real night out with Leukemia
Sept. 24 - SBC Park in San Francisco, CA
Green Day was playing their homecoming at SBC Park in San Francisco.
Physically, to look at me, you wouldn’t have suspected much. I’m still taller than most, and had maintained more than a healthy weight. I was tan and well-fed. But I was also still weakened by the chemos I was taking regularly (daily and weekly).
But I also knew that if I didn’t go out to do what I normally do, then both my physical and mental state wouldn’t be up to par.
So... it was off to see Green Day without fail.
This was a band who had become a great influence on me, and I loved their music.
The upbeat rhythms, the fast pace, and the lyrics, all said enough that I knew it would make me feel better to be outside.
It was their music that kept me inspired to keep playing guitar and writing music while in the hospital. And a lot of songs came from that.
I grabbed my side-kick Keith, and off we went up to San Francisco to see the show.
As I stood on the ground level grass, I could feel a bit of the expected wooziness. Of course. I’m only doped up to high heaven. I found I had to shift my feet back and forth a little more often than usual, to make sure to maintain balance. True, someone else might have taken that as a fair warning to find a seat to sit down. Not I. I was tempered like a seasoned professional since childhood. I had attended concerts while sporting a 102 temperature during a flu. That never fazed me. In fact, sweating out all the “bad stuff” seemed to make me feel better by the next day after those shows. But for this one, I did have to at least keep it in the back of my mind that - being something completely different and new - I had to be prepared for any type of health problem to hit.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Green Day hit the stage and all was well. Singing along to all the words, bopping the head, and essentially dancing around during the 2 1/2 hours seemed to do the trick as I had hoped. I felt great to be out. I felt great to be alive. Half of that was the band’s music, while the other half was the realization that I was in the processes of beating cancer and lucky to be alive at all. Knowing that, I was going to share it with the band - even if they weren’t aware of it.
I had always wanted to do an interview with the band, and talk about how they were an inspiration to many musically, and in life - through the struggles that they had to deal with as well, and now how they really had gotten me moving. I just felt it fair to let those who inspire know that they’ve done some good, and made a difference.
I really enjoyed Billy Joe’s heart-felt comment about “coming home” and how much the SF Bay Area meant to him for helping the band succeed to the levels which they did. And he should know that he meant as much to all those who attended.
When the show was finished, I was still ready for more. Granted, being on my feet for that long was a bit fatiguing considering my condition, but it was worth it. It’s like that drain after a long, hard workout, but you feel better afterwards, knowing that you had accomplished something. For me, my mind and heart were clear, my body solid, and I was just in the best mood possible.
Off we headed for home, wondering when they would be touring again. Before too long, we hoped.
Green Day was playing their homecoming at SBC Park in San Francisco.
Physically, to look at me, you wouldn’t have suspected much. I’m still taller than most, and had maintained more than a healthy weight. I was tan and well-fed. But I was also still weakened by the chemos I was taking regularly (daily and weekly).
But I also knew that if I didn’t go out to do what I normally do, then both my physical and mental state wouldn’t be up to par.
So... it was off to see Green Day without fail.
This was a band who had become a great influence on me, and I loved their music.
The upbeat rhythms, the fast pace, and the lyrics, all said enough that I knew it would make me feel better to be outside.
It was their music that kept me inspired to keep playing guitar and writing music while in the hospital. And a lot of songs came from that.
I grabbed my side-kick Keith, and off we went up to San Francisco to see the show.
As I stood on the ground level grass, I could feel a bit of the expected wooziness. Of course. I’m only doped up to high heaven. I found I had to shift my feet back and forth a little more often than usual, to make sure to maintain balance. True, someone else might have taken that as a fair warning to find a seat to sit down. Not I. I was tempered like a seasoned professional since childhood. I had attended concerts while sporting a 102 temperature during a flu. That never fazed me. In fact, sweating out all the “bad stuff” seemed to make me feel better by the next day after those shows. But for this one, I did have to at least keep it in the back of my mind that - being something completely different and new - I had to be prepared for any type of health problem to hit.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Green Day hit the stage and all was well. Singing along to all the words, bopping the head, and essentially dancing around during the 2 1/2 hours seemed to do the trick as I had hoped. I felt great to be out. I felt great to be alive. Half of that was the band’s music, while the other half was the realization that I was in the processes of beating cancer and lucky to be alive at all. Knowing that, I was going to share it with the band - even if they weren’t aware of it.
I had always wanted to do an interview with the band, and talk about how they were an inspiration to many musically, and in life - through the struggles that they had to deal with as well, and now how they really had gotten me moving. I just felt it fair to let those who inspire know that they’ve done some good, and made a difference.
I really enjoyed Billy Joe’s heart-felt comment about “coming home” and how much the SF Bay Area meant to him for helping the band succeed to the levels which they did. And he should know that he meant as much to all those who attended.
When the show was finished, I was still ready for more. Granted, being on my feet for that long was a bit fatiguing considering my condition, but it was worth it. It’s like that drain after a long, hard workout, but you feel better afterwards, knowing that you had accomplished something. For me, my mind and heart were clear, my body solid, and I was just in the best mood possible.
Off we headed for home, wondering when they would be touring again. Before too long, we hoped.
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