Today has been rough around the edges. Over the last week Maggie’s abdominal pain has been sporadic but occurring with increasing severity. Last night after a wonderfully delightful supper with friends the pain hit her pretty badly. The worst is when she coughs or sneezes but occasionally it’s just spontaneous, like last night. She’s discovered that curling up in a fetal-like position helps. She describes the pain as an intense sharp stabbing pain that is consistent in location. Dr. Loukas believes the pain to be a common side effect of the surgery called adhesions and is not likely health-threatening or cancer related (not withstanding the whole surgery bit relating to the cancer.)
Well, this morning after a Lowe’s run for Chris and a HEB run for a burger supplies, Maggie got hit by a pretty intense episode, harsh enough, in fact, that she wanted to take her pain medication to try and dull the pain as soon as we got home. Now, mind you, this is still the same girl who waltzed through the advanced stages of cancer while balancing law school and rarely, if ever, complained. Now, she’s doubled-up in the car, grimacing, while she sucks in enough air through her bared teeth to make Chris’s ears pop. If she wants her pain meds, she gets her pain meds. No questions asked.
Chris sent her to lie down while he delivered the pain meds, unpacked the groceries and started making her a yummy sandwich. Chris, being a wise and learned husband, knew that there was no possible way he was going to make the sandwich just right so he beckoned her into the kitchen to supervise. At that time she said the pain was definitely manageable. Lunch was eaten and Maggie made plans to go to a wine festival downtown with friends (and bought un-refundable tickets.) Within minutes after finishing lunch she was grumbling things like “wonky” and “don’t feel right” and “nauseous.” Chris immediately say her down outside for fresh air and followed up with the requisite glass of water, cold napkin and the ever-so-useful vomit bag. And, before long, it was good that he did. L All that good sandwich-making was lost into the bag – and then some. Chris, of course, reassured Maggie that he could make another sandwich, and a better one at that and next time, if she doesn’t like the sandwich to just not eat it. It really won’t hurt his feelings too much.
Well, needless to say, the afternoon plans for the wine festival were canceled. Maggie is now curled up in bed trying to get her head “un-wonkied” and Chris, relatively unphased, is continuing to prepare for the burger-fest this evening. Chris thinks that the sudden and unexpected nausea is purely a function of the powerful pain meds the she took on an empty stomach. It’s a been a blissfully long time since we’ve had a vomit experience so it seems highly likely that the two events are connected. And that’s the reasoning he’s sticking with.
It’s funny how the naive application of “logical reasoning” (or, probably better stated “rationalization”) can impose a calm to an otherwise alarming event. Or maybe, before the cancer, this simple event (if it’s even possible to concoct such a imaginative possibility) would have been no biggie. But now, post-cancer, it’s difficult to think clearly and ignore the elephant hiding quietly in the corner of the room. Every event stinks of The Cancer, whether it’s related or not. But for now, Chris is going to go chop some onions and make meat patties.