I had hoped and expected the chemotherapy regimen would have concluded by now, but my blood continues to be quite low on magnesium. So, at least four of five “work-days” this week will include a visit to the oncologist’s office, where I will be infused with the stuff. At the same time, the nurses will draw blood to determine the extent to which I remain low on the important mineral. Ach… Whatever it takes, of course. Whatever is necessary. Now that the majority of chemo treatment is ending, I will have roughly two years of immunosuppressant therapy; an infusion every three weeks intended to coach my body to attack and destroy rogue cancer cells. A seemingly endless series of treatments designed to extend my life for quite some time to come. If that series of treatments coincide with ongoing improvements in my sense of health and well-being, I will be well-satisfied.
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Sleep eluded me again for much of last night. I am tempted to return to bed to nap for a while, but I suspect I would continue to have difficulties falling and staying asleep. Bah. Even with relatively good news from the oncologist last week, my mood keeps slipping in and out of the place I want it to stay. The absence of pain is not the same as a sense of well-being. What that means is beyond me; it must mean something. This very brief post is a waste of the strength in my fingers. Again.
