Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire The Shaman and the Platelets

This episode probably needs its own thread.

Before I go any further, I want to thank Slummy and Plainsman for their responses last night. When you're head's in the bucket and you think there is no greater depth to sink, some guys have a knack for poking you in the side and letting you know it could be worse. Thanks.

The setup for today's activities: My platelet count has plummeted. I am the crown prince Alexei in exile. They need to get a bag of platelets into me, but yesterday's attempt was flummoxed by your intrepid shaman's offhand comment. Today, they're going at it again, but this time giving me a dose of IV Benedryl. The ostensible reason is to keep me from having an allergic reaction to the blood product, but it also will bomb the shaman into insensibility and remove the possibility of one of my half-assed observations being heard.

Look, before we go any further: The room did seriously seem to darken. I did feel a little tingly, all right? I didn't know it was going to be a big thing.

Film at 11. Updates as they happen.

One thing is for certain: I better be damn careful what I complain about or I'm going to be out another $50 for fried chicken.

Last night's impromptu fried chicken party was a bit of a strange affair. Mind you, my family is terrific. I have no complaints. I'm proud to be their Patriarch. This is more about the underpinnings of what make us human. Up until now, the general turn of events have either been down one of two tracks. One has been the flat-out emergencies, like me being rushed to the ER last month. Or they've been methodical exercises, like assembling the clan to discuss the cancer coming back and what to expect. This was an in-between affair. Yeah, it was serious, but it was handled like you would go about paying an overdue water bill. It did however, produce an ambiguous set of circumstances.

I used to love those animal documentaries, where they'd follow a group of baboons or bonobos or whatever around and do reality TV on them (before Reality TV). It was like a soap opera without lines. Biff, the Alpha, gets the trots from eating bad mangos and the whole group would erupt in chaos while Biff lies in the bushes twitching. Moa, Biff's #1 consort, comes over and puts Biff's hand on her forehead, looking for a reaction. You know the show.

So there I am, bombed out of my gourd, and floated home to the recliner, and the entire shamanic tribe showed up last night. I'm drugged, but cogent. I don't know about you, but Benedryl makes me just unresponsive. I hear the words in my head, but they don't come out. Everyone is looking for a sign that Dad's all right. Dad's just too swacked to say anything.

Junior, #1 son, has a way about him. Being autistic, he just doesn't shive a git.

"Dad, I've been meaning to ask you. . ."

. . . and so began an evening long discussion on the Protestant Service and the role of the Sermon. I have to say trying to explain Protestant Orthodoxy to an autistic is a challenge.

"But these are just his opinions, right?"

"Well, yes. . . but-"

"What gives his opinions any weight?"

"Well, he is the minister after all.. . "

. . . and this went further down the bunny hole. My message to Junior was that when he walked into the sanctuary, he should be looking on this as a chance to sit down with God, the Almighty. Whatever impediment there was (bum sermons included), he should be praying to find why this impediment was there and opening his heart to God.

We ended up watching a half-hour's worth of Billy Graham preaching on the Samaritan Woman.


This was Junior's way of poking the old Alpha and seeing if he still had it in him.

Lol, Smart kid, get 'em while he's weak........

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all!" Helen Keller

Keep up the commentary... you are gifted.

It is useful to others... and especially useful for you.

Kick the C to the curb... you got this.

Cancer and chemo: It’s not just a job; it’s an adventure!

Good luck with it Shaman, cancer sucks.

Well, here it is, the bag of platelets is nearly empty, and I've had my laptop open for 2 hours with nothing to write about.

Benedryl via IV certainly has a way of squashing the creative juices.

“Shive a git”. I’ve got to remember that one. 😊

I'm praying for you

Benedryl is wonderful for relaxation, having an iv in your arm not so much.continued success with your treatment.

I made it back home before noon, camped out in the recliner and basically let the world go by. IV Benedryl does that.

Overall, I feel fine. The rest of the tribe said I looked better after the platelets, but I don't see how.

Mr shaman, prayers for you and your family. You WILL whip the c-word.

I can take half a OTC benedryl table and sleep like the dead for 5 or 6 hrs.

My wife could probably eat the whole bottle and never get drowsy.

Everyone is different. Wife says I'm way different....

Good luck!

Amen, amen, amen

Get better soon and stay away from the light!

++

I got a shot in my neck Wed.and got on their scales.

I have been trying to gain some of my weight back for almost 4 years.

Last time i checked i was 160 and now i am at 155.

Stopped at COSCO'S and bought one of their cheese cakes and that SOB is all mine.

Don't give up yet.

It's been a while since I checked in. I just wanted to let you know I'm still breathing.

The platelet count is creeping back up.

Sunday, was a fantastic day. I actually got some horticulture done-- transplanting freshly rooted black willow cuttings. It's for a long-term project I've got cooking to make my own black powder.

The only dark cloud has been the aftermath of my trip to the potting bench. I grabbed a spade and dug up about half a 5-gallon bucket's worth of soil from the yard to do the potting. This was the first spadework I'd done since fall, and I started to stiffen up afterwards.

Yikes. I was a bit jockey for 40 years and spent a good part of that time hunched over a keyboard. The result is that my shoulders tend to get really painful. Normally, I come back from a trip to the farm all seized up. However, normally a dose of Ibuprofen at bedtime has me feeling great by morning.

Ibuprofen is a definite nogo with blood thinners. Mixing the two causes stomach hemorrhaging.

Tylenol doesn't begin to cut it, and I'm banned from that right now as well-- can't take anything that could mask a fever.


Now, trying to just ask the question of my fabulous crack cancer team was a challenge. As I said to one nurse, "Look, if I tell you I hurt so bad, I can't take a deep breath, the siren is going to go off, lights are going to flash and the duck is going to come down from the ceiling with $50. I don't need all that hoohaw. I just need to know what I can take for a stiff back."

The net of all this is I ended up with a script for Tramadol. That's like trying to hang a picture with a sledgehammer, but it does the job.


Outside of that, this is the best I've felt in a long time. I'm convinced whatever crap I had growing near my kidney is probably dead; the chemo is doing its job.