The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 22 - Feeling helpless

The one thing that most spousal caregivers, and probably all caregivers regardless of relationship to the patient, is the feeling of helplessness.  We watch our loved one suffer from a myriad of symptoms over the course of time.  Some are not too bad – and others are just wretched. 

For the most part, George was “asymptomatic” of disease prior to the initial diagnosis.  Since his first surgery, he has had issues, but still remained asymptomatic – until June of this year when he experienced bouts of nausea and vomiting.  That was worrisome for both of us.

Over the course of the past few years, however, I have watched a once creative and talented man unable to participate in projects he once loved to do.  The lack of physical stamina has taken a toll on him.  He is tired just about all of the time. 

On the day he had his kidney stone attack which led to this PMP diagnosis we had just purchased wood for a major project, a double Adirondack chair.  That wood still sits, untouched, in the garage.  We move it from side to side on occasion to access the cabinets that it is leaning against.  Other than that, it is so far outside the realm of what he can do that we don’t know if he will ever get back to it.  He has managed just a couple of very small projects in the past 8 months or so – but even those had to be done in small segments. 

Most days he sits in his recliner, reading the news on his iPad, maybe watching a television show or having the TV on for background noise.  A quick errand here and there.  But mostly, he has only the energy to sit.  He “complains” that he is tired of being tired.  He is tired of the sometimes incessant trips to the bathroom as he juggles anti-diarrheal medications.  In June he experienced such severe bouts of vomiting and nausea that he has cut way back on eating. Sometimes he fears eating because he doesn’t know if it will stay “in” and sometimes when he eats he just doesn’t feel so great. In fact, he has noticeably lost more weight in just the past two weeks.  Verification is shown on the scale which shows he has lost at least 10 pounds in that short amount of time.  It is a horrible time for him.  He doesn’t feel he can go too far from the house because he never knows when he will need the bathroom.  He went with the granddaughters and myself to the movies yesterday even though he wasn’t really feeling too well.  He had to get up three times to use the restroom. 

When we see other people, friends at church, etc., they will all say he “looks good”.  His color is good, he is pretty lean these days - - but that is on the outside.  On the inside he is waging war with this incredibly hard disease.  At home he is tired, he is frustrated at his lack of being able to do just about anything, he is quiet.  There are moments of laughter sprinkled here and there.  I can tell he is trying not to let this consume him, but it does consume him. 

And I feel so helpless sometimes.  I mean, I know that my physical presence brings him much comfort.  I know that he enjoys having his “bad arm” massaged (the one that suffered the most after his neck surgery) and having me rub his forehead to help him get to sleep.  But I can offer no comfort from the rage of diarrhea or vomiting when they occur.  I can do nothing to ease the belly pain or the exhaustion. 

I imagine it is the same for many others who are taking care of loved ones.  I take note of other husbands and wives on our PMP Facebook group who are in the end stages with their spouses.  They vent their sorrows and fears with the group as their battle is waged with rounds of chemo (there are different diagnosis where chemo is done before and/or after HIPEC) or as they slowly lose their battle with this disease.  My heart goes out to them.  Their battle seems tougher than mine and I suppose I should be grateful for that.  In reality, no battle is any less nor any harder than the other.  They are all difficult and complex. 

I have to remind myself to turn my feelings over to God to handle.  Any fears or frustrations I may be experiencing – I have to give them up and just know that He will never give us more than we can handle.  Sometimes it just feels like he piles more on than is necessary!  (And I believe the phrase a friend from church used recently is along the lines of:  I just wish God didn't have so much confidence in what I can handle!)

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 18 - New Friends and Old Friends

We live in such a digital age these days that you can make new friends in a virtual world around the world.  But there is so much more to relationships that you can only achieve true friendship when you have a "live” connection to them.  Then, the relationship becomes much more personal. 

We have both been part of a Facebook Group for just over a year.  I don’t think we found this group until well after George’s surgery.  Someone happened to mention it in another support group that is run my Team Inspire (online).  As part of this group we see daily postings from others with this rare cancer (PMP) and hear from both survivors and caregivers as well as newly diagnosed persons.  It is a very supportive environment where one can ask questions, pose thoughts, rant about the latest symptoms, etc. and where others will understand what you are going through.  BUT – in some ways one still feels rather isolated. 

To reduce that, George and I have reached out to a few others over the past year.  One is a couple from Tennessee that we have spoken to on the phone.  Another was local and had surgery at Kaiser just up the street.  But there are no local support groups for people with “our” kind of cancer.  I’ve attended a caregiver support group locally, but so many of those are dealing with “regular” cancers for lack of a better word.  And many of the ones that were in the group when I went were dealing with end stage cancers.  I just couldn’t identify with them.  My husband had ONE surgery, ONE chemo treatment during surgery.  And he lost a LOT of organs in that process.  BUT – he was doing pretty well and was on the uphill of the surgery.  Very hard to identify with others in the group.

For that reason I reached out to others both in the Facebook group and the Team Inspire group – and was so grateful that I got some responses.  A meeting was held this past weekend in Stockton which appeared to be about the middle distance for those attending.  Pam from Sacramento, Lindsey from Stockton and Judy from Livermore made their way to the restaurant on Saturday (which also happened to be George’s birthday).  Pam and Judy brought their spouses.  We ended up being in our own room at the restaurant for which we were grateful.  Our waiter, Billy, was so great.  He kept coming in to get our orders but we spent so much time talking and getting acquainted that we did not even look at the menus!.  At one point he came in the room and stopped at the head of the table.  I stopped the group and said “I think he has a question to ask” and he said, “No, I don’t, actually.  I was interested in your conversation.  You see, my uncle died of cancer last year.  And, years back I had a health issue and was told I would never walk well again.  But I went online and found a doctor in Malaysia and he talked about doing yoga, etc. and here I am walking!”  Praise!!  So he was quite content that it was nearly 1 ½ hours before we even ordered our dinner. He checked in on everyone periodically for drinks.  He was tipped well!

Anyway – we spent three hours at the restaurant sharing ideas, thoughts and stories.  Pam, Lindsey and George had already experienced the HIPEC.  Judy has had CRS but not the HIPEC yet, she is scheduled to have that in September with Dr. Lowy in San Diego.  The three who have had HIPEC shared how they are feeling, physically and mentally, and discovered that they “are not crazy”.  Much of what they feel is universal.  A pinch here, a lump there, fatigue or lack of stamina, all seem to be normal after affects.  We were able to provide information to Judy and her husband.  They were surprised to hear that it will take much longer to recover from the HIPEC than the debulking part of the surgery.  And we let Judy’s husband know that she will look very “inflated” after surgery because of all the fluids they pump through the system.  But not to worry, it is temporary. 

It felt so good to be in a room with others who “got it”.  Especially the survivors.  They will say that no one, not even the spouses, really understand what it is they feel.  No one except someone else who has experienced it.  Yes, it was so good to meet these others in person.  Now we really feel connected.  We have finally met other survivors of this horrible disease.  And we plan on doing this perhaps twice a year and have an opportunity to meet others in the area.

From there we stopped in to see Stephanie and Justin.. and then on to see George’s longtime friends, Larry and Betsy.  They’ve been friends for over 40 years.  We spent the evening talking to them and visiting, went to church with them on Sunday morning and then to breakfast.  Dear friends, longtime friends, cherished friends.  We so appreciate those relationships that have stood the test of time, that have not wavered through all the personal changes that have occurred over the years.  The type of friendship where you can discuss just about anything.  There is much comfort in those relationships. 

Healthwise things appeared to turn a corner over the weekend.  George’s bathroom trips started to decrease.  I suggested he add in another Immodium during the day and that appears to have helped.  I think he is also decreasing one of the meds that he was given as we saw the surgeon as well.  That combination appears to have made life a little more comfortable.

We now have his “love buttons”, the grandkids, Addy and Bella here for the week.  A good distraction for him as they are his for the day!  He takes them to vacation Bible school in the morning and then on an excursion in the afternoon.  Yesterday it was swimming day at Uncle Keith’s.  Today it is NASA out at Moffett Field. 

We have one week left until surgery #2.  The next four days will be full of time with family and friends.  And then, the quiet times begin and anxiety will slowly take over as the “elephant in the room” takes up residence.  But, for now, we will enjoy some good times 

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 12 - Sometimes A Prayer Will Do

This week, rather than walk the treadmill at the gym after doing my weight work out, I decided to walk around the neighborhood.  It is a much nicer walk and I get some fresh air.  It also gives me the opportunity to have time to think and process life’s events without the distraction of others around me.  I put in my ear buds, turn on my iPod and listen to soundtracks that I love.  My playlist is called “Easy Listening” and has a myriad of songs ranging from the 60’s through near current – groups such as The Eagles, Neil Diamond, Elton John, The Carpenters, Barry Manilow, Celtic Woman, Il Divo, Josh Groban, Hillsong, Twila Paris.  You can see it is quite an eclectic group ranging from some classic players to Christian singers.  I use the shuffle feature so I never know what is coming up next.

I end all of my workouts (I do Pilates on the days I don’t go to the gym so I try to get 5 or 6 days of some sort of activity) by searching for a Christian song which then ends with me on my knees in prayer.  These days I pray long and hard for George and all that he is enduring, I pray for the “lost” daughter, lost to us at this point in our lives.  I pray for each of our other daughters, their spouses and their families.  I pray for all who are suffering, especially those who have PMP.  I lift up those who have lost their battles recently. 

Today, the song that popped up on my song list was “Sometimes a Prayer Will Do”.  I had to hit the repeat button because it was so lovely.  It speaks to me. I have absolute faith that we will get through these uncertain times.  However, I also know that sometimes God answers in ways we do not understand.  I try my best to be positive, to know that this latest journey is merely a bump in the road.  I pray that George comes out on “the other side” of the surgery cancer free.  I don’t believe that God using him here on earth.  So, today, just like every other day, I pray.  On my knees… I pray. 

Sometimes A Prayer Will Do

Sometimes we stumble
Sometimes we even fall
And we can't find a friend
Can't comprehend it all
And we are lost
With nothing to hold on to
When we can't find the answer
Sometimes a prayer will do
And though we wonder
Uncertain if we will get through
To face the future
Sometimes a prayer will do
Sometimes we reach
for what's not really there
Sometimes we lose our grip
Come tumbling through midair
And we are searching
For something to hold on to
When we can't find the answer
Sometimes a prayer will do
And though we wonder
Uncertain if we will get through
To face the future
Sometimes a prayer will do
Yeah, we are stronger
Somehow we know we will get through
To face the future
Sometimes a prayer will do
Sometimes a prayer will do

If you would like to listen to this version sung by Celtic Woman, put this link in your browser.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0nqQIBpkyU

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 10 - Freedom

Definition for freedom:

NOUN

1.         The state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint: He won his freedom after a retrial.

2.         Exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc.

3.         The power to determine action without restraint.

4.         Political or national independence.

5.         Personal liberty, as opposed to bondage or slavery: a slave who bought his freedom.

Today is the 4^th of July – known as Independence Day.  This day was set aside in the U.S. to observe the freedoms that came from being independent of another nation.  It was a hard fought battle for us to get to that point.

It continues to be a battle, more so in recent years as there are almost daily attacks on our freedom around the globe and, unfortunately, also on our own turf.  We continue to fight for the freedoms such as religious, speech, and so on. 

Another definition of freedom is defined as “personal liberty”.  I could translate that as “freedom of responsibility”.  This was the case for me when Mom was recently moved to a memory care facility.  I cannot express what it felt for me to be free of the responsibility of caring for her on a daily basis.  The relief was instantaneous.  The burden of care lifted from that “simple” act felt as if tons of weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  Co-workers and clients noticed that I acted differently (something I was not even aware of).  Sometimes having responsibilities shifting to another can be freeing!

Yet another definition of freedom is “exemption from external control, interference….”  That is what we are personally striving for when it comes to the cancer.  We want a body free from this horrible, external force that can be, at times, so debilitating that we cannot enjoy the other freedoms mentioned above.  When every waking moment is spent internally battling the forces raging inside you cannot enjoy life itself.  Every twinge, every ache, every movement makes you wonder “Is it back?”, “Is it growing?” followed by “Will I ever feel decent again?” or “Will there ever be a day I don’t think about this?”  It tends to reign supreme over every other piece of life itself.  While we are envious of those who are NED (No Evidence of Disease), I am sure even those people are still looking over their shoulder wondering if or when it may come back. 

For every victory of freedom a hard fought battle has taken place.  No one gets to the point of victory without first going through pain, loss or hardship.  Those moments make the victory taste sweeter for, as we know, it takes the valleys of our lives to make the mountain tops feel so beautiful. 

We are currently in the valley of this cancerous journey.  The bad days are more frequent than the good days.  With surgery pending, this is going to be a long hike through the valley.  There will be moments of happy times and glimpses of the sun as we take this journey once again.  We plan on fighting as hard as we can.  With our God watching over us, we pray for healing.  We pray that someday soon George can say, “I am free!  Free at last!” of this dead disease. This would be the consummate freedom for us to have here on earth.  To be free from disease so we can get back to the process of living life to the Glory of our God

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 8 - Caring for the Caregiver

After a super crazy week of sleepless nights and busy days - - and knowing that in a very short while my “me” time will be anything but - - I took advantage of a free afternoon and booked a massage…. A 90 minute massage (first time for one that long).

Since I have been working out, I knew my shoulders and neck were in serious need of some kneading.  Sixty minutes was not long enough to take care of that.  Felis was a very good masseuse and spent considerable time trying to loosen up the upper back, shoulders and neck. After finishing up with the massage, I headed straight for the chiropractors’ office so she could do the “final adjustment” of my neck and spine.  AHhhhhhh, yes.  I needed that as well. She noted that the last time I was in was March 2015, so I was long overdue!

It felt good to pamper me.  And I am making a vow to get a massage a month as it is the best way to ensure that I get an hour or so of “me” time to relax the mind and muscles some.  I know that recovery for George will take months.  Since he is going into this one with a lot less energy than the last time, he is afraid of how long it will take him to bounce back. 

I don’t know about other spouse caregivers, but I find when I am in caregiving mode it is difficult to be “just a wife”.  When our spouse comes out of a horrific surgery (and now George has had two – one for cancer and one for the neck, so upcoming surgery is #3 in under two years), they are in a lot of pain, on a lot of meds for a time, and so just trying to cuddle or snuggle as a spouse is difficult because you have to be so careful how you touch them.  And, since that is the only form of intimacy that is viable for weeks or months after major surgery (aside from, perhaps, hand holding), it is easy to lose sight of the “spouse” and stay in caregiving mode.  I know I had a very difficult time trying to step out of caregiving mode after the neck surgery (especially since I was caregiving for George AND for his mom).  I am wondering how other caregivers deal with this?

I remember when I helped my mom care for my dad in his last weeks.  By the time I arrived to help, Dad had declined to the point that he was pretty much bedridden.  I helped change him and/or get on the bedside commode.  My sister thought that pretty brave of me and commented that she could never do that.  I explained to her that when I had to do that for my dad, it was as though a switch went off in my brain and I ceased being a daughter in that moment and became a caregiver.  When I was done changing him or whatever personal care I had to do for him, I then switched off the caregiver and went back to being a daughter.  That brain switch was easier when it was my dad.  It is harder as a spouse. 

I know George hates that he has to rely on me so much.  He knows that I will do most anything for him (and, indeed I have had to do a lot of things I never thought I would have to do for him).  I know he longs to be whole again, to be “normal” again… but we have what they call a “new normal”… it is unknown territory and it is very fluid, always changing.  We don’t know from one day to the next if things will change yet again.  I have always been pretty flexible – able to change direction pretty easily and take things in stride no matter what happens in life.  Yes, there have been times I totally struggled with that change, been angry or sad or resentful.  The struggles are usually short-lived.  I get over it, get past it and move on.  “Life happens” - - and I try not to let the bad times rule.

For at least the past month or two I have had some moments of being “just a wife”.  We have tried to create some special moments.  We thought we were going to have another month or two of being able to do that.  But, alas, that is not in the playbook just yet.  In a short 18 days as George heads back for another major surgery, another MOAS surgery, I will kick back into full time caregiving mode to ensure that George is well taken care of, to advocate for him, to comfort him, to do whatever I can to make him as comfortable as possible.  How long it will last is anyone’s guess.

So, yesterday was a treat to myself.  And, unlike the last time, I vow that at least once a month I continue to do that.  To stretch out on a table and have someone knead the knots that have formed and push them out of my body so I can be re-energized … or maybe it will be to step out and spend time with a friend or two… but I know I have to “take care of me” sometimes, make time that is just for me, in order for me to be the best caregiver (and wife) that I can be.  

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 6 - Time Table speeds up

Since the CT scan George has had more difficult days with his digestive system.  He had been having nausea and vomiting spells since June 1 (ever 4-7 days) and most were relieved after a few hours.  The night after the CT scan brought on another spell – probably some related to all the barium he had to drink.  Saturday he stayed low key and did not eat at all until dinnertime when he had something light.  He was fine on Sunday and Monday.  Then, on Tuesday it started again.  This time though he had more painful cramping and mostly dry heaves.  After six hours of him going back and forth to the bathroom (thinking he had to go to the bathroom OR feeling the need to vomit) I finally asked, “When is this enough? You’ve ready on the FB page that small bowel obstructions (SBO) can be common and that what you are experiencing appears to be the same type of symptoms.  So when is it time to get this checked out.  It’s been six hours and you are still in a lot of pain and still spending all of your time between the chair/bed and the bathroom.”  He agreed and, at 11:15PM we were off to the ER.  There they did blood work and an X-ray.  The X-ray showed no visible obstructions.  The blood work showed low potassium.  So he was pumped with fluids and given potassium.  Given pain and nausea meds.  We were home about 2 hours after arriving. 

George slept relatively well but after waking still felt a little queasy.  I headed out to find a pharmacy open early so I could fill the prescriptions we’d been given so I could get to work.  By the time that was done it was 9AM.  At 1PM George called and said he thought he needed to go back to the ER.  I left work, headed home and picked him up.  In the waiting room I texted Dr. Bastidas and let him know we were in the ER and that George had been having issues with vomiting and nausea and we were not sure if it was related to the cancer. (Note:  We picked up the CT scan disk and the printed report on Saturday and, on reading it, learned that there were more lesions/tumors than prior test last fall.  A bit disconcerting.)  Dr. Bastidas then stayed in touch with the ER doctor to help figure out the next step.  After 5 hours the choice was (1) be admitted to help keep symptoms controlled or (2) go home and try to keep symptoms controlled.  We let them know that the Zofran did not appear to work very well so they said we could add a suppository to help.  He was discharged about 7PM (the ER was super busy!)  My friend, Judy, had arrived at the hospital just as we were leaving.  She followed us home and stayed with George while I ran to the pharmacy to get the prescription filled. 

George went to bed about 8:45 and I stayed downstairs to just catch my breath.  Dr. Bastidas phoned about 9:45 and I filled him in on what had transpired.  He asked a few questions and said he was on call this weekend if George had problems retaining food and needed to be admitted for IV nutrition.  I let him know that we had an appointment with him at 9:15 and we would see him then. 

George still had a few episodes of vomiting in the early part of the night – the last time being just before midnight.  The suppository finally kicked in and he slept the rest of the night.  In order to ensure that things stayed as calm as possible, I woke him up at 2:30 and 5AM to give him meds.  (The time in between those I could not get back to sleep.  So my sleep was 12-2:30AM and 5:30-7:30AM.)

As we drove to see Dr. B, George said he was actually feeling pretty good.  As we went in to the office, Dr. B was already asking his assistant to cue up a team and asking for it to be done next week!  Whoa! 

Dr. Bastidas sat down with us and reviewed our past history (this was done for the benefit of his intern).  He explained to us the probably cause of George’s current digestive issues.  Apparently there is a tumor at the base of his stomach near the duodena that is causing some restriction as food leaves the stomach.  So, if George has eaten something that temporarily “gets stuck” there, it will cause cramping and vomiting to expel it.  It makes sense that once George has ‘gotten rid” of food that he feels better.  We are not sure why we had such a prolonged period of these spells in the past 2 days because George’s belly should have been emptied sooner. 
Dr. Bastidas also spoke about the different types of chemotherapy available for cancer (most do not apply to PMP).  This, again, was for the benefit of the intern.  He also spoke about a treatment available that looks very promising for certain types of cancers (Lynch syndrome, I think).  This treatment has so much potential the Dr. George Fischer at Stanford decided not to retire because he is so excited.)

We looked over the CT scan with Dr. B and he showed us where there were tumors or possible tumors.  Then we sat down and discussed the “when”.  His biggest concern is that George get enough nutrients to stay healthy.  Given that George was feeling pretty good today, the decision was made to use meds and diet to try to keep George comfortable for a few weeks.  Dr. B will be gone from 7/14-7/18 so surgery would need to be before or after that.  Given that there can be complications and we really want him to be around after surgery, we decided on the week of July 18. (Note: Date is 7/20/16)   By doing this we can do all the things we have planned over the next few weeks.  First, I need to be at work next week as one staff is out on vacation and our staffing is already low.  Second, we have a planned meeting of some local PMP survivors in Stockton on July 9^th.  (Coming from Sacramento, Stockton and Dublin) We really want to have some personal connection with others because people with other cancers cannot relate to what they have gone through.  July 9^th also happens to be George’s birthday.  The next day we will get the twins who will be with us for a week to attend VBS and hang out with George (aka Poppy).  They are looking forward to coming for the week and Poppy is looking forward to having them here. 

Now, things are moving full speed ahead.  Part of us is reeling from the fact that the surgery date had to be moved so close given that George now has symptoms of the disease taking hold. (Note:  This is the first time he has ever been symptomatic in the entire time he has had the cancer.)  We had hoped to make it through most of the summer and maybe get away for a short bit.  Instead, we will enjoy as much as we can the next few weeks.  Although relieved to find out that the cancer has not attacked the liver, kidney, etc. and is still contained to the outside of the organs, the prospect of having surgery happen in under three weeks is cause for some anxiety.  The surgery will still take at least the same amount of time as the first one (7-8 hours) because the doctor has to “undo” some of the connections in order to adequately get to the tumors and ensure that the areas are as clean as possible.  The HIPEC team will be available and, as long as he can remove all visible tumors, will proceed.  For me, that is the most anxious part – waiting to hear the “Go” of “No Go” a few hours after surgery has begun.  I pray that we once again get the “Go” to proceed.

Our battle against this dread disease starts up again.  Our faith remains strong.  Our prayer warriors have begun to do battle with us.  We are so grateful for the love and support that pours out.  No doubt the prayers led us back to the ER where a doctor knew to give us just that extra “boost” in meds to alleviate the GI spells.  (She even called this afternoon to check in with us.  That’s a first!)  Grateful to have the best surgeon (in our eyes) on our side.
Photo below was of our recent "adventure" day trip to Monterey (actually were only there for 2 hours - basically ate and then found this shop).  The "poop" emoji is popular with PMP folk - because most of them have lost portions of their bowels during the MOAS (mother of all surgeries) and thus this is an issue for them.  I look forward to many, many more smiles like this once we get through this surgery and are on the recovery side of things.

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 1 - CT Scan completed

Today was the CT scan which will begin the process for the next surgery.  George awoke early to start drinking his “banana smoothie” aka Barium. 

On the way to the hospital I inquired as to how he was doing.  He looked fairly calm.  This is the easy part.  The hard part is waiting for the next 6 days until our appointment with the surgeon.  Until that meeting, there will be some level of anxiety as he fears what the tests will show. 

This being the “easy” part – was not so easy.  George was late being escorted back to the room (and I had told him they would probably make him drink some more barium as so much time had lapsed – and that did happen).  After an hour of waiting I finally went to the counter to ask where he was as the test should only take 10 minutes or so.  A little while longer if they have trouble finding veins.  Apparently that was the case today.  Two nurses, one doctor, an ultrasound machine and 9 sticks later they finally got the IV needle in. 

Ironically, the doctor that they called in to assist was Dr. Wright.  George recognized the name.  This was the doctor that was on duty when he had his needle biopsy for the cancer (before we knew what it was).  He worked at O’Connor hospital at that time.  He is the one that tried to draw off the fluid from his belly but couldn’t because it was so thick.  He is the one that whispered to the nurse off in the corner after the procedure and on his way out of the room patted George on the arm and said “Good luck”.  He did not make us feel very good. 

After our appointment (which took a little over 2 hours from the time we entered for admissions until they were done), we went out for a bite to eat and then home for George to try to get some more sleep.  An hour or two after getting home, George experienced another bout of nausea and vomiting and spent a few hours back and forth to the bathroom.

Note: At a doctor appointment earlier this week we found out that George has anemia.  The nurse practitioner says that we have to figure out the cause and, after telling her about the nausea spells (4 since June 1), she suspects George may have an ulcer.  She put George on Prilosec to see if that will help.  I think we will be seeing the GI doctor sooner than later to ensure this is not an issue going forward. 

We see the surgeon on Thursday, June 30 to start cuing up the next surgery.