Next on the CW...

Five West

A show about intrigue, drama, chance meetings...

IVs, dosing schedules, uncomfortable chairs that fold into beds...

And really, really bland food.

I mean, doesn't it sound like some Melrose Place spin-off?  It's actually the name of the oncology wing at St. V's where Dad is.  Again.  We're back here for this round of in-patient chemo.  This mix of chemicals has a round-the-clock dosing schedule, and the toxicity is high enough that Dad needs to be monitored pretty closely to make sure they don't overwhelm his system.

That's the paradox of chemo in general: these chemicals that you're pumping into someone's veins are so poisonous that the nurses have to wear paper gowns over their scrubs, extra-thick gloves, goggles (supposedly), and all the empty IV bags, tubes, needles, etc. has to go into special protective bags when they're finished with them.  How is this stuff okay to go into someone's body when it's so dangerous to get on the body?  It really is a confusing theory of treatment: harm to heal.  I get that much better in a figurative way than a literal one.  One PostSecret card that really struck me, of late, is this one:

 

 Desert imagery.  Obvs.  

But when those good things are useful little bits like hair cells and white blood cells, well... that's a bit harsher reality.  

Dad, independently, has been saying pretty much the same thing that has been my mantra in the past months.  "I'm doing this.  I have no choice.  I have to push on."  Now I know where I get this hardscrabble determination from.  My phrase is "needs be done," but the sentiment is certainly the same.  God love him, he's working so hard.

Speaking of working, I'm finally getting to do some stuff at OMSI.  I had safety training last night, which was an hour and a half of doom scenarios and how screwed we'd all be if there was a really big earthquake in Portland.  Super!  Over the next few weeks I get trained in the educational procedures of all the labs and halls, and then get to put on my dopey purple vest (I'm so excited) and pretend to know things when people ask me questions.  I can't wait.