kvetching up

 Entry 1    4:16 p.m. We have Jenny home .  She is tired, weak, malnourished, in pain, but remarkably in good spirits. The surgeon did a second nerve block procedure when they did the stent procedure, but the pain persists. The C/T is clear where the pain is of anything that might be the cause. The oncologist, Doc P, who visited Jenny again last night, is baffled. Mind you, the pain is real, so real that only 20 mg. of oxy, a dose of dilaudid and muscle relaxants managed to get the pain to a tolerable level just a few minutes ago.  While at hospital, Jenny called me crying, and I hurried as fast as I could to see her--there was a slight problem with my Jeep being covered with snow that I had to address first. I had hoped that I could talk to a doctor, but none ever arrived once I got there. Jenny had already been discharged, and was just waiting for a transporter to get her downstairs. I am going to reach out to the palliative folks with whom which we have a mee...

 Entry 1 9:22 p.m. W hat a long day of troubles.  It was a day of upset and good news. Like Yin and Yang or the spread of the omicron virus and extending work from home for several more months.   First, my friend in Wisconsin had zero margins after her procedure. This means her cancer is gone. They got all of it. Her kids can stop worrying. Her friends can breathe a sigh of relief. Also, fuck cancer. It's the best news I have heard in a long time, and it truly made my morning. Great way to start the day.  It didn't get better, although, in fairness, it is hard to imagine how it could, other things being equal. I woke Jenny at 10. Feeling horrible, her bowl of applesauce from last night, sitting in the bed barely touched, the bowl miraculously not upset while she slept.  She looked dehydrated, defeated, disappointed, haggard, worn, spent. Its that look you get when it's 3 a.m. and you've been driving down a strange highway since the bartender kicked you out ...