It Might Get Messy

It’s been a tough week here in Cancer Land (trademark, copyright). My weight continues to fall. If I pour in anything like enough calories to maintain my weight, I get terrible stomach cramps and tend to vomit or simply have my gut contents spill out past that Lower Esophageal Sphincter Muscle (LESM) we talked about last week. All of which leaves me weak and shaky. Which reduces my ability to exercise—or even walk for more than a dozen paces. Which further reduces my ability to accept the U.N. Emergency Food Rations. Which further reduces my weight. Which further…well, you see the circular nature of the problem. And of course, there’s no magic solution. We talked to the dietician. Whose advice, of course, is to try to find some way to stuff more calories in to stem the weight loss. So I’ve switched from the U.N. Emergency Rations to over-the-counter Ensure Plus, a standard weight-gain diet formula.

Hasn’t helped. 

Before we continue with my whining, let’s take a detour to explore the whimsical world of space science. According to 

http://news.yahoo.com/cherry-tree-space-mystery-baffles-japan-085044593.html

if you fly cherry pits into space, they become sort of super-seeds. According to the Buddhist monks who (for some reason) sent the seeds up, a few months in space yield a number of benefits. First, seeds from an ancient (more than a thousand years old, according to the story) cherry tree that have never sprouted before finally did so. The monks are happy because their ancient tree can be replaced by its own progeny. Other seeds, from trees that do sprout regularly, yield trees that flower years before their non-space siblings. And, the flowers have mysteriously irregular numbers of petals. 

All of which might be interesting scientific findings. If the findings did indeed have a scientific basis. As one of the project investigators pointed out, there were no “control” seeds, only the experimental (sent-to-space) version. So they’re not sure if the drastic effects of (presumably) cosmic rays are real, or simply peculiarities of the batch of seeds selected for the test.

Duh.

OK, let’s get back to my whining. I had pretty well established, using the U.N. emergency rations plus the five decaf cokes I use to take my meds, that I need 3000 calories per day to maintain my weight. Which required six U.N. emergency rations. Seven Ensures are necessary to reach the same threshold. 

In my panic after checking my weight this morning (under 180 pounds, which is about what I weighed freshman year of high school), I pounded down six Ensures in two batches.

Now my tummy hurts. 

OK, it’s hours later. I had a long nap, cooked supper (with a super-assist from Beth, who’s out here on the east coast so she can experience some actual weather), and took my evening meds. I feel pretty good. I have to dump in at least one more bottle of Ensure Plus tonight, but that won’t be a problem. There’s almost nothing that qualifies as a “problem” after you’ve had 16 milligrams of dilaudid. 

Anyway. Spring is indeed, finally, here. Earlier in the week, I wandered over to the Patuxent Reserve, and quietly slid into the meadow where the big timber pile shelters that enormous black racer I posted photos of a couple years ago. She was indeed out sunning herself on a heap of cinder blocks. I managed to get within arm’s length of her. In fact, I had her tail in my hand as she woke up and slithered off. I was trying to be gentle, though. She was covered with the silver epidermis indicating that she was about to undertake her first skin shed of the year. 

Snakes in this condition are delicate. If you grab them too tightly, or they thrash too hard when you have a hold of them, they can tear the new underskin waiting its turn to serve as the primary epidermis. Which is not good. So I didn’t try too hard to catch her. I’ll go out tomorrow and see if she’s finished her shed. I’d like to get a tape measure on her sometime. She is absolutely huge. The Peterson field guide lists record length for black racers as 73 inches, or 185.4 centimeters. I’m pretty sure this one is at least six feet long, possibly longer. So sometime this year I’ll make a serious attempt to catch her and get a measurement. 

If I see her on my walk tomorrow, or anything else worthy of your natural history attention, I’ll post photos here next week. In the meantime, enjoy the warmth and the full daylength. 

As always, I thank you for being here. My health seems to be slipping a bit, I suspect due to my inability to ingest sufficient nutrients to maintain my weight. I’ll keep you appraised as I wrestle with this new contretemps. I am learning a new lesson from the geography here in Cancer Land (copyright, trademark). Which is that cancer, even if it’s in remission or otherwise “cured”, is forever. Patience and stoic acceptance are the overriding skills needed to deal with cancer survivorship. Given the alternative, however painful the schooling necessary to acquire said skills, it’s a bargain!