“Ok, don’t move”

It is at that exact moment that I am given the order by the radiologist that a sneeze with the strength of a hurricane comes over me. Oh, god, no. Please don’t make me have to start over. I don’t have to sneeze! It’s just a tickle….

As the whirring of the robotic apparatus hovers over my chest, I focus on every single little thing that could possibly make me have to move. My face mask is too tight. I can’t breathe. I didn’t get my arm in a comfortable position. My shoulder hurts. My pinkie-toe itches. I think I may fart…..

My first week of radiation is complete. Five down. 20 to go. Jeff says I’m 20% done, and that, for some reason, sounds better- it seems do-able.

We arrived in Guadalajara a little over a week ago, and settled in to our temporary home quickly. It’s a super-cute loft in Colonia Americana, a young, hip, cafe and shop-strewn neighborhood that seems convenient to most everything in Mexico’s second-largest city. (Too bad I’m afraid to go into shops or eat anywhere but the furthest open-air table at the least busy time.) We have a private o.patio that is one of the selling-points of this place, so that we don’t have to get dressed and leave the building every time Chance needs to pee or poo.

And although this is a renovated high-rise building, we are on the first floor, so there’ no need to share an elevator with anyone. (Elevators are waaayyyy too close for comfort in these days of Covid-19.) Add to that the fact that there seems to be very few other residents here, and it has, so far, worked out perfectly.

And although radiation seems uber-scary, it has been tolerable so far. I hear the skin burning doesn’t start until the 4th week in, or something like that. I have amassed a small apothecary of lotions, potions creams and oils to slather on my skin during the day and night. After months of research on the best methods to prevent burning, itching, peeling and whatever else, I just bought it all, mixing some of it together to prepare what seems to me the perfect combination. If those don’t work, there’s always cabbage. (I read that cold cabbage leaves can really soothe a hot, uncomfortable chest.)  Again, we’ll see.

On another note, remember that pesky-ass wound I told you about in the last post? Well, after well over a month of no relief and countless assaults of said wounds, my wound-care nurse in Puerto Vallarta sent in a sample of tissue to the lab. Turns out it is indeed an infection, and a serious, super-hard to treat one, at that. It’s called Mycobacterium Abscessus. Look it up. It is not nice. In fact, that has become my #1 focus at this time.  I guess it’s a good thing that I am in such big city with renowned health care. I am now under the care of an infectologist, and she has ordered more tests in order to nail down the sub-type and begin treatment, which, she admits to me, is hit or miss, and can take up to a year.

I’ll tell you, I am not keen on going to all these clinics, labs and offices in order to get well. I am, however, happy to report that most people here wear masks, and you can’t go into many establishments without one. And for the most part, social distancing is also observed. Last week, in the diagnostic center, a tech in full PE walked out carrying a case that read DANGER! COVID-19 USE ONLY. That was almost the undoing of me, but what do you do?

But I will say, every time I’ve needed an appointment, I’ve never had to wait long, and am usually seen within a day. And I am being forced to use my Espanol, although when being spoken to by a provider whose mouth is behind the protection of both a cloth and plastic face-protector, I’m sure I’ve tested their patience with my repeated phrase of Mande? No intiende. (What did you say? I don’t understand.) I eventually get it. My pantomime skills are exceptional.

So, sorry for this kinda-somber update. I much prefer the upbeat, funny ones, but a lot of you have asked me what’s the latest, and this is just the best way for me to fill you in. I fully expect to get back on the humor-horse without getting bucked off too much. I also fully expect to master the art of stillness without the mind-fucks that go along with being warrned Don’t Move.

As always,

No Pasa Nada (Everything’s going to be alright.)