Another random stranger from the internet offering sympathy and my fervent wish that you get through this.
Random stranger who feels for you. Having to be carted around by family sucks. If you live near me, I can offer you some rides.
Another random stranger who cares. And who’s pissed that the phrase “thoughts and prayers” has been shot to hell… because that’s what I’m literally doing right now.
Well, thought and prayers and typing… and hoping your family says some stupid shit that you can share with us, and we’ll all have a laugh together while you’re going through this.
They’re still using Zofran etc. but they now have several ultra-long acting antiemetics which are used quite a bit nowadays. The best known is Aloxi; an acquaintance had it a few years ago when she was undergoing FOLFOX chemotherapy for colon cancer, and she had very little nausea from her chemo. The one exception that comes to mind was when she took some leftovers out of the fridge and ate them anyway even though they smelled a little off, and quickly regretted that decision. :o As unpleasant as that was, she realized that at least the drugs didn’t work TOO well.
This, times 100. Broomstick knows what she’s talking about here (how, I don’t know). When I went through my diagnosis and treatment (breast cancer), this is exactly what happened. I think people believe that when you have cancer, you have also instantly become incredibly stupid and need them to advise you. Their hearts are in the right place, I’m sure, but the last thing you need to deal with, on top of everything else, is fending them off.
Take care of yourself, bd. Big hugs from me. After you are through all of this, all of us survivors on the Board should get together and have a party.
At this point I’d just be happy to get some recognition from people that I even exist. Sorry to keep dragging the Great Family Drama back to the front, but it really is overshadowing the Great Cancer Story at the moment. My mass email to the family went out to about 20 people, and so far the only responses were from: (1) my cousin, who said “thanks for the entertaining update, glad to hear it’s not serious,” and (2) my great aunt, who also complimented my writing style and suggested I start a blog. Also (3) was from my Dad himself, seconding my aunt’s blog suggestion.
It should be pointed out that I’ve re-read my Dad’s pre-emptive, unauthorized, misleading email several times and it’s obvious that he downplayed my medical situation by such a massive degree that he may as well have been talking about me having a hernia operation. The main theme seemed to be that he enjoyed spending the day with his sonny-son-son. It goes without saying that both cousin & aunt were mentally replying to that email after having glossed over mine.
There were two other replies from people who weren’t tainted by that email. The rest – about 15 altogether – were completely silent. I’m guessing they sensed the drama building and chose to not get involved.
Oh, and in the middle of all this, my brother (the estranged one mentioned above) got in touch and confidentially announced that he’s begun the process of transitioning. That was…unexpected.
Oh, and as for more pertinent advice, I’ve actually gotten quite a few useful tips from people, both here and offline, mostly how to make post-chemo food not taste so yucky. So thanks to all, in case I forgot to thank anyone. 
For me, the most supportive people have NOT been the ones who say things like “You’re strong and healthy, and you’re going to beat this” but instead people who said things like “This is going to be a roller coaster ride, and your life is going to really suck at times.”
I certainly found out who I could count on. I’d been very close with my cousin since she was born (she’s a few years younger than me), and when I told her about my cancer she completely disappeared. Completely out of touch. WTF? Was I ever hurt. We’re pleasant when necessary at family functions, but that relationship’s over. Her mother was the same way. On the other hand, I got support from people I least expected, like my other cousin, her brother.
Mr. H and my mom were the ones who dragged me through it when I wanted to give up and die. I was in so much pain even with ridiculous amounts of pain meds. I’m so grateful to them.
OH, Zofran constipated me! Just a word of caution.
Of all the great wonder drugs I’ve discovered over the last few months, Miralax tops the list. 
What you wrote is sad but you made me laugh while I was reading it —at least you still have your sense of humour. (((((((( hugs ))))))))
Some chemo drugs do this too. Bowel function needs to be monitored while people are undergoing treatment.
This! buddha_david, know that people are reading what you write, and frowning/smiling/chuckling as warranted. Stories like yours matter. We’re all just a rogue cell or two, and a crazy relative/friend or two, from sharing pretty much the same experiences.
whatever works!
how are you feeling, David? how’s it going being at home?
I’m a connoisseur 
and can tell you that if price ever becomes an issue, the Kroger generic has the best taste (which is NO taste). Walgreen’s and Walmart were kind of bitter.
ETA: But keep the Miralax lid! The Kroger lid sucks for measuring.
Miralax/Dulcolax are “moving things along” much more slowly than I’d like today, but at least things are moving. (And yes, part of the Miralax Miracle is that it’s almost completely tasteless, and unlike Metamucil, doesn’t interfere with any other drugs.)
Emotionally, still a wreck. The worst part about Father’s unauthorized email, telling his entire side of the family that I’m doing peachy-keen, means that I probably won’t get any response at all from them. Because, if they acknowledge my side of the story, that would be tantamount to casting doubt on Father’s side, which (according to how this Family Dynamic words) is completely verboten. (Basically, they’d rather not get involved in this mess, period.) Not all of them are like that, but I really was hoping to make some headway here. Cancer’s usually great for mending broken fences.
On the bright side, Evil Dad’s promised to pay for a very expensive ($175) anti-itch prescription that insurance wouldn’t cover. So there’s an advantage to dealing with the devil.
:eek: OK, that’s messed up.
but I’m glad you got some if that’s what you need.
I feel for you that your family drama is piling on and adding stress in the middle of all of this. If you want to, just keep sending out your updates to all of them. Some of them may eventually clue in that your father’s version isn’t really accurate. On the other hand, feel free to include only those you feel like talking to on your updates, and forget the others. You’re entitled to spend your energy as you see fit. I’m disabled, not fighting cancer, but I have learned that sometimes you only have so much energy. It’s ok to let things go until tomorrow, unless they are essential. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Received some information yesterday about the history of the family drama – don’t really feel comfortable making it public (nobody I know reads the Dope but there’s always a non-zero chance someone I do may come along) except to say that my case isn’t the first time this certain person spilled the beans about someone’s cancer against their will…
Medically speaking, I’m having an echocardiogram tomorrow; after that I’m declaring a “Cancer-Free Weekend” for myself, where I’ve decided that aside from routine day-to-day stuff, I’m gonna do my best to indulge myself in other hobbies and try and forget everything that’s happened up 'til now – 'til Tuesday morning, when the Port-a-Cath surgery is scheduled. So I might not even be checking in with this thread before then.
Good luck with everything and enjoy your day off. Rest assured you’ll have of plenty of rando’s pulling for you.