You’re not going to bully me cancer man ...

Craig and I got into a bit of a tiff earlier this morning (early, I mean 6am).  See, Vlady the Vomiter was objecting to taking his anti-nausea meds, saying that they made him too tired, and that he shouldn’t have to take them.  Fair enough, but the regimen we're on is what the doctor(s) ordered.  He persisted (in a not so polite way).  After a few back-and-forths, I finally said “look, I’m not going to bend on this.  If you don’t want to be zonked, then try Ritalin.  I’m not going to risk backing down on your anti-nauseas just when you’ve stopped vomiting, and especially not when you’re about to take oral chemo.  It’s too risky.”  A 'so there', would have topped it, but I held back. 

 I get his point, though, and it’s a really hard spot.  He sounds drugged, so I can’t imagine how he actually feels.  We’re going to ask the doctors tomorrow if he can reduce his Benadryl intake, which may help.  And I’ve already switched up his Zofran and Ativan so he’s taking the ‘sleepy pills’ later in the evening.  He’s also trying green tea.  The fact is, though, he’s zonked most of the day, and that’s frankly no way to live a life.  Something’s gotta give.  This is about his process, and on the one hand, if the man doesn’t want to take anti-nauseas, then dangit, he shouldn’t have to.  The tradeoffs aren’t pretty and there’s no easy fix.  I wish I could go back to 2006 and change the course of things, but I can’t.  We are where we are, and we only have so many tools to play with.  He wants to fight this thing, and fight we will.  There’s still plenty of room left to tinker. -- J