My definition of Hell: being forced to watch Let’s Make a Deal for all eternity while sitting in a physician waiting room.  That’s where I am right now (a physician office, not actual Hell).  Ken is meeting with the oncology social worker, learning some mindfulness techniques to help with the agitation and anxiety.

Taking the pump home is always stressful, with its audible reminder literally every minute that Ken has cancer. (Want to know what it’s like? Set a repeating reminder on your phone to go off every minute and see how many minutes it takes before you focus primarily on the alarm you know is about to go off.) On top of that, his side effects — the rash, nausea, exhaustion, and chemo brain — are increasing.

The visiting nurse came over Saturday afternoon to check his vitals and remove his pump, which helps reduce the agitation.  Picture this, though:  to visit Ken requires a walk up 34 steps to the master bedroom on the third floor. We’ve seen 3 different nurses and each has said, “You walk up these stairs every day?!”

On Sunday, Ken had enough energy to take a short walk on the treadmill (it was too chilly to walk outside) AND shop with me at Costco. After tasting a few samples, though, he was exhausted. In addition, we didn’t account for the noise and congestion, which, with Ken’s agitation, was hard to take.  Ultimately, he went to the car to rest quietly while I finished up the shopping.

Exhaustion took its toll again today and Ken went upstairs to rest when he got home. Hopefully, he’ll be a little better tomorrow. A decent night’s rest would be awesome too but I’m not sure it’s a possibility for either of us.