Braggin’ On My Family

I’m sure most of you already know about my baby brother Matt being diagnosed with late 2nd Stage 2 Colon Cancer,  In less than a week he had been ti surgery and had a permanent colostomy attached to his side, with a bag attached around it to collect ‘solid waste’.  How’s that for a nice sanitary euphemism for poop.

 

Having the ‘Emperor of All Maladies’ really isn’t at all fun.  Matt has already undergone a 6 + hours surgery, he woke up with a tube for extra oxygen, IV’s in each arm, cardiac Monitor leads attached to his chest, dressed in one of those ‘front only’ nightshirt.  Poor Matt, he had strange nurses and doctors checking different things on his body.  So far Matt has seen at least 5 different doctors: his surgeon (V. Sheridan) Truly cares about her patients, his kidney/Liver doc is pleasant, and listens to his patients, his oncologist (Dr. Chang) and her office staff are already going well beyond what a ‘regular’ medicaL practice, they have sent paperwork for Matt to fill out for financial aid with his chemotherapy.

 

Through the admission through Emergency Room, up to one unit to await tests and further information.  He was getting three different kinds of antibiotics, and two opioid pain meds through his two IV’s, as well as lots of fluids through both the IV’s and his drinking.  He had three different drains hanging off him and a cotton farms’ worth of bandages.

 

Our brother, Jim, hates hospitals and will go out of his way to avoid being near one.  He was visiting Matt every single day, and buying him gifts ranging from a T-Shirt about our home town in Michigan, a portable DVD player, and two DVDs of sports follies.

 

On the day of his surgery, all of the adults in the family did the waiting room thang.  We tried to rest in those too-small chairs that feel as though they were carved from granite, and people took turns trying to fill the time with light-hearted chit-chat.

 

While all of this was going on, Matt’s cat Pye, was in a distressing decline, he had stopped eating and drinking, and grooming himself.  One night, as we were getting ready to leave the hospital, I rubbed my hands all over Matt.  When we got home I called Pye into the kitchen, and invited himn onto the counter.

 

He effortlessly jumped ponto the counter, looking around for a treat,  I offered my hands, full of the scent of “Da”.  He sniffed and sniffed and sniffed some more, before he gave me a silken little head-butt and purred softly.  He then buried his face in the food dishes and gorged, then drank an amazing amount of water.  When he was sated and soothed he reclaimed his place of vigil on Matt’s bed.  My Missy Skye spent every second she could lie next to Pye and comforting him while he waited for more than “Da’s” scent.

 

The Chemotherapy is really interesting, and cutting-edge (IMHO), the chemo will bypass non-cancerous systems and organs, and concentrate it actions where there may be a few rogue cells hovering about.

 

Matt has been so upbeat through all of this.  When he was more fully out of the chemical cocktail they plied him with in intensive care he looked down at the angry red pucker of flesh protruding from his belly, with a bag attached.  He mumbled sleepily. “They gutted me from sternum to crotch like a rainbow trout!”.

 

That seems to be the tone he has chosen, he has spoken about it with me, and he told me he can’t understand why some people just go home and let the cancer take ’em.  Matt will begin to understand a bit better when he must undergo chemotherapy.  Matt has yet to suffer the kind of pain cancer metes out to those it claims.  He also has not seen what his struggle will do to the people closest to him.  He told me that, “There must be something more that I have to do.”

 

Matt already does lots of things that I am proud to call him Family because of.  He is so kind and gentle with children and animals, tolerant and cheerful when talking with ‘senior citizens’.  He throws good deeds out into the world, and claims his reward in how he feels doing it.

 

Matt is focussing his intelligence, wisdom, and smarts on fighting the goof fight.  A few nights ago, what were the’ hippy’ kids in # 133 doing?  Playing Yahtzee!!  Matt signed his card C-Bag (short for colostomy) and I signed mine, “Not you”.

 

We’re already talking about creating stoma-friendly recipes; food that tastes good, is nutritious, and easily tolerated by compromised digestive systems.  Matt is already thinking of ways to make the whole colostomy experience less difficult to learn and be able to adapt to someone’s special needs.

 

A good example of the dietary changes necessary would be the burritos I made the other night.  I had to use less seasoning, and leave out our beloved green chillies.  Lettuce needed to be shredded smaller, and tomatoes have to be peeled and have all the seeds removed.  Therefore, he cannot use the salsas we have normally gotten.

 

Unless I send the salsa through the blender, and through a fine wire sieve Pace and other chunky salsas will no longer be on the menu.  I think I am going to be doing a lot of tomato canning this year, so we’ll have plenty of diced tomato for recipes that are Matt-tested and approved..