I'm sitting here using my gravity bag to feed. The tubing on the ones that everyone can find is so small it takes 45 minutes to an hour to feed with. I believe these were more for being used with a pump. At least with the pump you can adjust the time it takes to get 16 oz of formula down. I realize that I don't have a lot to do, nor can I do a whole lot anymore, but 4 hours out of my day just really pisses me off. So I kind of split it. I used the bag when I'm not in a rush, or am reading. Otherwise I use a syringe. The problem with that is how fast I can run it in. Too fast and I'll throw up. Not a pleasant thing to do in the least. On the other hand, with the syringe there isn't any real "too slow". I've gotten better at it. Takes me 10 to 15 minutes to put the formula in with a syringe. That's "push, push, pause". Hmmmm that sounded like something from a Lamaze class.
I managed to mess up my sleep patterns again. Friday I'd had a long day of bleeding. Not a lot, just a steady drip. Saliva and mucus all had a nice pink tint. So, apparently that bugs me on a sub conscious level. I tried to go to sleep, nothing. I'd doze off, 15 minutes later, wide awake. I finally gave up that fight and just played my video game. Finally, after a shower and all the meds and one feeding in, I fell asleep. That was 0400. I made it until 0830, fed, watched a little boob tube, fell asleep. Out about an hour. watched some football with my wife and oldest daughter. Fed, fell asleep. Out for 2 hours. See where this is heading? Yep, slept a big chunk of the day away, but still got extra tired about 2200 last night. Dozed off, 15 minutes later, wide awake. This time though, I only stayed up until 0200, and woke up at 0700. I can live with that, I'm getting closer to getting the sleep patterns back to normal that way.
Today is the final day of the 2013 CAF Airsho. I'm planning on going. I've only missed a few, and that was because we all kind of thought "We've been every year for the last 10, let's just skip it". That was true, to an extent, but this is the last time I'll get to see all the WW2 fighters, bombers, and recon planes running and flying. I just love the sound of a huge radial engine running.They are wicked. Jets are great and all. Fast, sneaky, (if you're not expecting them they really can fly in faster than the sound they make) and modern. All kinds of great avionics and computers to help fly at speed and accurately target enemy aircraft. The guys that fought with the planes in WW2 had none of that. Compass and essential instruments is all the had. To do aerial combat then, you had to really fly. It was up close and personal. Amazing the things those guys did. During a period when if you got into a war, you fought to win, not like today when we fight to draw. And win they did. We aren't speaking German or Japanese. The one thing that bugs me over all of WW2, was the lack of open tribunals for Japanese war crimes. They committed their share, including wiping out an entire city in China. They killed everyone, including babies. They beheaded POW's on Chichi Jima, the Baton Death March. They should have had the same open and ultimately deadly, for most, war crimes trials as we did in Germany.
Maybe it was a guilt thing for Roosevelt putting Japanese Americans in concentration camps, when their only crime was being Japanese. The most decorated unit in WW2 was the Japanese American unit that fought in Europe. Or maybe it's from dropping two atomic weapons. I've got an Uncle that thinks that was the right thing to do. He was awaiting orders to move into Japan with the Marines strike force. He's glad he didn't have to do that.
I'm hoping we can talk the grandson and kids into going as well. It'd be a fairly nice family outing. When my youngest was just little, I'd put him on my shoulders and we'd go stand at the taxi way and watch the warbirds taxi for the spot to take off. And it was a neat way to go hear the engines crank up. The whine of the mag as it's charging, the starter popping and the old Pratt pop, then boom, then settle into a nice hard sounding idle. They fire so hard you can feel it in your chest. Damned amazing engine the Pratt and Whitney Radial. I like the sound of a V12 Allison, or Rolls Royce Merlin as well. The German engine in an ME 109, that baby just howls! It was inverted and fuel injected, and had a 22 millimeter cannon that sat right beneath the pilot, the barrel comes out of the prop nose cone. The 109 could just turn it's nose straight into a dive, the American and others had to roll over into a dive so they wouldn't empty the carb. Little stuff like that I pick up.
So, what goes on with me now. I am realizing I bleed a little bit every day. Not the once a week, that became a couple of times, that became a couple of times with a longer duration. Nope, now it's a little bit, off and on all day. I really see it in the morning when I do my "Get this done, so you can have fun" routine. So that's there now. Back in July my surgeon told me I'd be needing more sleep as the cancer progressed. I scoffed and said "Yeah, right. I never need more than 4-6 hours tops.". I hate when doctors are correct. I do require more sleep. And forcing myself to stay awake is getting harder to do all the time. I'll fight it today, since I want to go see the Airsho. Hmmm, maybe I could play the Terminal Velocity card and get a ride in one of the bombers. A B17 would be my choice. Naw, I don't even play that card at home. Okay, okay, I don't play it very often at home. Sheesh. Also, it's a touch harder to control the pain. I'm afraid I'm going to have to up my pain patch again. I'm stubborn, so I'll wait until it doesn't do much at all, then up it. I'd make a terrible drug addict. I don't like how it makes me feel. Like I'm not in control of myself. Which is wrong, I am, but I don't feel that way on the pain meds. It's harder to get around. My legs are giving up on me. They are getting weaker. Even when I was lifting (before it got painful) I noticed my legs were not agreeing to get stronger, they seemed to prefer being the desk while I type in the recliner. I'm losing upper body strength as well. Even using the rubber band things, I'm not as strong. I'm assuming that my body is taking from one to fight the other. None of this is unexpected on my part, but sometimes it startles me to see it happening. I'm not afraid, I'm a bit pissed off about it, but that's a waste of energy. There's no use in being angry about it, because the cancer doesn't care if I'm angry or not. Well, with the exception that it makes me tired. I think the cancer thrives on your being tired and angry. Being that way helps fill its dance card. I feel better when I'm laughing as well. I honestly believe the cancer dislikes when we are having a good time. When I'm laughing, I have more energy, and it stays with me longer. When I laugh, so does the family, and that's always a good thing. They worry too much about me. This is going to happen whether they worry or not. That being said, we need to laugh more.
I'm watching a thing on the news about what is average for men these days. Age 30-39. BMI 29, waist 38, height 5' 9". Now I've got to laugh. At 230, my heaviest, I had a BMI of 16. My waste never got over 36. My height was 5' 10", but chemo shaved a full inch off that. All that and the Fed listed me as obese. The Fed says I should weigh 165 lb. I say of course, if I'm some scrawny pencil necked geek in Washington who wishes he could live my life and have to buy close that have an XL on the label instead of Medium. Shit, even with all the weight and muscle mass I've lost since December of last year, I still wear an XL shirt. On the "Don't Do What I Do" front, I smoked. some days more than others. But I could still get three miles in 24-25 minutes, when I felt like running. My pulse was 62-65, BP was 120/70. And I was over 50. All the bad things I did. I probably shouldn't have ever smoked, but alas I did. With this cancer, there are a lot of possibilities that could have brought it on. Smoking, drinking, HPV, any other those. Or none at all. It may, and I think is, be in my genetic make up. Not everyone that smokes or drinks gets cancer. All those do is increase your risk exponentially. Thinking people know that inhaling smoke into your lungs can't be good for you. And it's not, truly. But smokes aren't the "be all, end all" in cancer, they are a portion of the entire picture. We all know what is said about smoking, and we are all over 21. Do as you please, but look at the outcome down the road as well.
Orders for the day: Be more self confident. Walk the earth like you own the damn thing. Make today yours, and screw anyone that wants to try and get a piece of it from you. There's nothing about you that is so bad that you can't overcome it. It's a matter of deciding how one wants to live.
I'm so self confident it borders on arrogance and being an asshole. That's a thin like to walk. No one likes an arrogant prick.
I'm also so confident in myself, I can admit when I'm wrong. No hem hawing around, if I'm wrong I own that as well.
So endeth the lesson.
Go be yourself, you're the only one like you out of 6Billion plus. Make sure everyone knows that.
Hugs, and bang on the ear
