Still Kicking Ass (Hooah!)

I got my last round of Chemo last week as a guest of the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit at the Seattle VA. It was a very nice place to ride out the suck of inpatient chemo.

My admission for the actual transplant will crank that suck all the way up to 11 and they will get me through. They’ve been doing these here for 30-odd years and nobody is better at it. I’m one of two people being treated in the BMTU that are actually from this state. My living close enough to stay at home virtually never happens, from what I can tell. They have apartments that folks move into just for this program, you have to have a caregiver with you and they really got the whole thing running pretty efficiently from what I can tell so far. It’s not my first party after all.

All things considered, the title of this post is apt. It was a rough run, very rough… With extra twists and turns, just to keep things interesting, amirite? /sarcasm

I got real sick on the weekend and Rachel just dragged my 104.5f/40.3c lethargic old butt all the way through the episode. My fever broke about the time she went home.

Fortunately, the staff was universally awesome. I am more than a handful to take care of these days and they all take good care of me anyway! *snicker*

Speaking of being taken care of, check out the Facebook love I got on this announcement! Verrrry therapeutic…

I recently characterized this as “a swinging pendulum ride” it’s trying to start to slow down… I got extra strength steroids cos I’m such a good little patient, tapering down now. It’ll be over soon.

Then the transplant, then maybe just maybe I’ll get this “cure” these peeps in white coats are expecting. I’m just looking forward to the whole rebooted immune system thing and the resulting energy that I’ve been missing for what seems like forever!

A cured case of Mantle Cell Lymphoma is still a rather rare bird, Campers.

But a cure what I signed up for.

The dice have left my hand… Wish me luck!

The Countdown Has Begun

Your raconteur got a phone call from Chuck Boyd, the guy who is in charge of my imminent chemotherapy regimen. It was a good call, dude was nice, got lots of operational info…

I’ve decided to spare y’all the details here, but clicking on Hyper CVAD or Rituximab will take you to more detailed info on my planned treatment.

My PICC line will be placed next Wednesday, so I’ll be hot-tubbing frequently right up until that appointment! I’ll be admitted the following day (or a week later) to begin the first of eight five-day admissions (2-3 weeks apart) for each “run” of chemo.

Then I get my stem cell transplant.

*sigh*

 

This promises to suck SO very fucking hard… Chuck didn’t sugar coat his briefing.

I can hang tho. I’ve been through worse, I think.

Our new digs are wonderful! (Pics are HERE, with more to follow.)

Internet and TV are thoroughly sorted. I got a TV card plugged into a Sat-TV DVR so I can watch whatever i can imagine in a window while I do stuff like this. I’m gonna need the distraction (and maybe a sling box rig… No, they got cable at the hospital. I could sideload from here if I get a rig built… Oops! I got lost there for a minute. Needless to say, the room is just about completely set up to a very high standard of geeky utility and slacker comfort. I haven’t had a chance to think x-10 yet eith… OK, I’ll stop now.

I’ll enjoy the home-cooked meals as long as my appetite lasts. (I’ve been selecting the menus! :) )

I’ve been getting a steady stream of concerned folks being all kind and stuff, which is real good for my morale, so keep that coming!

I’m also writing a post, about why I chose to go all “Public” about my cancer, for a good friend of mine in the Bay Area for Love & Trash in the next couple of days. I believe it’ll be going up next week, but I’ll let y’all know, of course!

I hear my hot tub calling…

Schrödinger’s Todd

Per Wiki, “Schrödinger’s cat is a thought experiment, often described as a paradox, devised by Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger in 1935.” One cat is placed into one of two boxes. If no observer knows where the cat is, then it is said to be equally in each box, until determined. The idea is often used to explain more complex thoughts in Quantum Mechanics.

Right now, Todd could be used for the same experiment. Is he still in Germany, at Ramstein Air Base? Is he in the U.S., awaiting his chance to interview with Homeland Security? Is he on a plane between the two places and thus no where at all? We don’t know. But what we do know is news worthy…

Todd has left Amsterdam! He’s not here. We’ve looked. And he’s not expected back any time soon.

Alas, for now, Schrodinger’s Todd is so everywhere that no one knows where he is. But we’re all expecting to soon hear that he’s somewhere on the east coast and amongst friends.

Almost ready to leave… (UPDATED)

Your raconteur is in the deep south of Holland visiting the nice folks at JFC Brunssum so that he can pick up a shiny new ID card so that he may travel back to CONUS.

I’ll be back in Amsterdam tonight, anticipating a departure for Ramstein AB sometime tomorrow.

More follows…

UPDATE: Today’s run was pleasant, but still resulted in total failure. My departure clock is on hold until I can procure an additional piece of ID… I have a cunning plan, we’ll soon see what it’ll take to pull it off!

TONIGHT: The Last Leaving Party…

Yes, Campers… It’s time for your raconteur to stop dilly-dallying and get the hell back to CONUS.

I’ve dragged this out about as long as I can get away with.

Today’s bleak and soggy weather matches my current mood, but seeing a few of you leuk mensen tonight should help considerably!

Location: C’est La Vie. Stadsdeel Westerpark. Bentinckstraat 32. 1051GL Amsterdam

Time: How’s 2200 sound?

And don’t feel bad if you can’t make it, I should have put the word out on this sooner…

Yesterday in the Westerpark

It was a freaking glorious day in Amsterdam yesterday, Campers!

Dear Angie, here’s The Story…

[Got a friend request from my favourite classmate from Nursing School and she wanted to know what I've been up to since we graduated in, um... 1988.  Little did she know that she'd get blogged! There also might be a few of you out there that haven't heard this story or the news of my relatively imminent departure. ]

I’m not doing too badly, all things considered, getting ready to move back to the states next month, after almost 8 years here in Amsterdam.

I gotta come back to deal with some family obligations, but maybe I can get back here in a few years, if I’m lucky… It’s a terribly cool place to live!

I escaped over here right after 9/11, I’d stopped working (I’d done trauma, psych, ER, public health, and home care)  5 years earlier when my feet got too painful to ambulate. (I’d injured them on active duty and got retired for that, you might remember…)

I was married when all this started, “was” being the operative term… It wasn’t what she’d signed up for. And I was in pretty bad shape…

They tried to fix them, but ultimately failed, so I was in a wheelchair on morphine for a LONG time… Which pretty much SUCKED!

My Army pension finally kicked in at 100% so I did a bit of traveling back here. (My 1st trip to Europe was in ’90) Amsterdam wasn’t very accessible, (it’s a bit better now) but I wasn’t a para so I could cheat when I had to.

I was here in November 2001 and got a bit of a job offer doing admin for an event for Americans here that I’d become a regular at. They asked me if I could get a place here and I haven’t been back to Baltimore since.

Problem was, I was on steadily increasing amounts of MS Contin as the pain got worse, I was kind of isolated. Fortunately, I had a good number of friends here that didn’t give up on me.

One day, after a couple of years here, a strange man shows up at my apartment and tells me that he’s a homeopathist and that he could help me!

I slammed the door on him.

Fortunately, he came back.

Turns out that he’d been sent by a mutual friend (that remains anonymous to this day) to try to help me out. I was starting to circle the proverbial drain and this is a very small town…

So I let him treat me for about 2 years, which was quite an experience, he didn’t even charge me!

Even stranger, I got better!

I got off ALL meds, the MS withdrawal was a whole lot less miserable than what I saw patients go through (and I’d peaked at 2000mg/day!!!) and after working ER in Baltimore, that was a MAJOR fear. At the same time, the pain began to subside to where it is to this day, basically zero.

I’ve come to realize that it might not have been homeopathy itself that did the trick here, I was just ready when Ben showed up. I’d started to realize, through a very thick haze, that if I’d continued on the path I was on, I wouldn’t have been long for this world…

So I was ready to try just about anything, but I’d seemingly run out of possibilities.

Just coming off the meds was like waking up from a 13 year long nightmare, finding myself in the only place that I’d ever dreamed about living in…

Once I started feeling human again, my friends started taking me out to parties in the wheelchair. That became my PT, as well as a great treatment for a bad case of isolation.

I learned to dance in that chair the second night I went out and I got to be pretty awesome at it too! But as I got stronger, these wonderful Amsterdam girls would pull me up and dance with me til I got tired, then I’d rock the chair til I was ready to get back up again.

The sheer motivating power of sexy girls dancing to great music has really been underinvestigated…

I became a 40 year old club kid in one of the top 5 party cities in the world!

I’d call home and tell friends about what I was up to, and finally, one of them said: “Dude, why aren’t you writing this stuff down?!?

The proverbial lightbulb went off over my head, so I started a blog 5 years ago called, “Waking up in Amsterdam!” and started documenting the happy madness of my existence here. Which lead to my shooting pics at parties, first for my blog, then for the parties themselves.

I became the only American partyshot photographer (as far as anybody can tell) in the country. (770,000 views on flickr in the last 16 months) I’ve been to some of the biggest parties in the world as well as a few of the best ones!

There’s magic here, I know that intimately. I was fortunate enough to get a tremendous blast of it just when I needed it most, and then I got to share the results with a whole community of terrific people here in Amsterdam and a few here and there all over the world! (Now you’re one of them, welcome to the club! )

I found a life that was WAY beyond my wildest dreams.

I’ve more than made up for the time I lost being sick and miserable.

So now I have to leave this place and these people that I love so very much.

My brother is sick and miserable… and alone.

I can help with that last bit, we’ll have to see about the rest.

So now it’s your turn!

xxx T.

Pics up today!

Your raconteur’s weekend went into double overtime…

I have a lunch date with a wonderful kitten who’s just passing through for the day, so I’m taking her up to Canvas for the incomparable view!

I’m taking the camera, and I’ll start the run on the weekend’s pics as soon as I send Brittany back off to Schiphol!

Amsterdam’s Song of the Day!

It’s positively luscious in Amsterdam today, Campers!

72F (21C), not a cloud in the sky, yummy girls in short skirts on bikes… YAY!

Your raconteur should be sleeping, but it’s just TOO freaking gorgeous!

I went out for a nice long walk and whole city is out lovin’ this weather too!

Everybody seems to be wearing a big, silly grin and I can almost hear the Goddess giggling at our collective joy!

It’s THAT wonderful!

So, the perfect song for the first TRULY spectacular day of the year is: U2: Beautiful Day

What you don’t have, you don’t need it now…

I hope your day is at least a little bit beautiful too!

A Passover Story

From my hometown paper…

Mexican-American family returns to Jewish roots

To rediscover the religion believed lost for ancestors, a Mexican immigrant family reaches across continents and centuries to solve the mystery of its Jewish roots

By Ron Grossman |Tribune reporter

April 8, 2009

Enraptured by the story, the three members of the religious panel kept firing questions at Ignacio Esquivel, who along with his two daughters, a brother-in-law and a family friend were asking for approval to convert to Judaism.

“Who had this idea first?” asked David Landau of the panel known in Hebrew as a bet din.

Esquivel, 43, said his son came across a synagogue in Marquette Park on his way to play basketball one day last year. It had the same name as a secret sanctuary in the family’s former home in Mexico City.

That discovery of Beth Shalom B’nai Zaken Ethiopian Hebrew Congregation, a largely African-American synagogue on the Southwest Side, led the Mexican-American Esquivel family to reconnect with the Jewish community.

Read the rest!