Heart In My Hands
May. 18th, 2011 09:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mlerulesFeeling a DUMP coming on. It's a combo brain-dump, heart-dump, soul-dump, core-dump, emotional-dump, an airing out of my innards, a flooding of my inner-workings w/word flow and fresh air so the cobwebs get blown away and excess dust 'n' kloodge of all sorts gets washed away by the words flowing out and around and through it all.
It ain't gonna be pretty or neat or sensible. It may even appear highly cryptastic. That's b'c it's for me, not you. So deal. Or don't. No skin off my butt, either way.
Yeah, I didn't actually hold anybody's heart in my hands, but I did indeed get down and exceptionally cleanly 'n' intimately involved w/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jaylake's heart last Sunday. In short (HA! ;-), I got to remove the chemo-pump (Cudd Prizm) device to which he'd agreed to let the OHSU medical staff tether him via a strap 'round his neck all weekend. We knew 'twas time once it began beeping, advising us it'd emptied itself of the 45* hours-worth of all sorts o' nasty-@ss highly toxic chemicals (FOLFIRI) via small tube directly into a port surgically implanted in his chest connected straight to his jugular vein.
There were rubber gloves involved, and clamps, and protocols 'n' procedures to follow (I'd gotten training at OHSU's lovely waterfront Cancer Care Clinic last Friday when they hooked him up to the thingie), and little fiddly bits (bright red caps to ensure that the last few drops of nasty toxic stuff didn't ooze out), w/much swabbing and peeling off of adhesive dressing, until finally I found myself unclamping the line (thin tubing), cleansing the pointy bit thoroughly (15+ seconds w/alcohol swap), ripping the wrapper off a sterile syringe (okay, actually 'twas JL's st-mom who did this and handed it to me, as extra hands helped lots, even if'n it messes somewhat w/the narrative flow ;-), screwing it 1/4 turn into the pointy bit, and then slowly plunging 10 cc of saline solution directly intojaylake's jugular vein. Whoa. Talk 'bout intimacy. Talk about trust.
After that I took off that syringe, plunked it into the large red Sharps box, and repeated the process w/another syringe, this time 5 cc of heperin (sp). After that came the bloody bit, holding bits down, squeezing the clampy bits together, and pulling the needle outta his chest. I gather that a drop of blood's normal. This wasn't too much more, but 'twas enough to warrant extra mopping up w/alcohol swaps and then a band-aid...and much hand-washing after adding gloves &c. to the home-Sharps biohazard box. Well, at least I'll have a chance to perfect my technique, as I'll be doing this again at the end of the next couple of FOLFIRI rounds (every other Sunday).
Later on we we ritually burned the scrap of foolscap on whichthe_child had calligraphed 1/12 to symbolize the end of the first of his dozen FOLFIRI chemo sessions.
Eh, not really as Dump-y as I'd meant/thought it'd be. Really far more of a descriptive dump. But I feel a bit better for it, so that's good 'nuff for now. More 'bout balls 'n' playing games to come...or not.
* It shoulda been 48 hours - still dunno what was up w/that
Okay, now I wanna concoct - and consume - a FOLFIRI cocktail**. Hmm, mebbe I'll just rework the marvelous Velvet Hammer that Murray bestowed upon us as we gathered up our belongings in preparation for leaving the lovely Zig-Zag Cafe several months back. The coaster on which he wrote out the recipe now lives right here by my small (but sweet & savory) Classic Cocktail reference library.
Yes, my FOLFIRI cocktail** shall consist of Gin 'n' Campari 'n' Canton Ginger 'n' Lime Twist, plus something else to distinguish it as mine own. Thoughts, tips, hints, suggestions hereby solicited fromdritikol and any other mixologists reading along.
EDIT: Quite possibly absinthe will serve as the final ingred. Taste-testings shall confirm or deny this once conducted. Thx for all who're playing along.
** Named that, mind you, not an actual one.
It ain't gonna be pretty or neat or sensible. It may even appear highly cryptastic. That's b'c it's for me, not you. So deal. Or don't. No skin off my butt, either way.
Yeah, I didn't actually hold anybody's heart in my hands, but I did indeed get down and exceptionally cleanly 'n' intimately involved w/
jaylake's heart last Sunday. In short (HA! ;-), I got to remove the chemo-pump (Cudd Prizm) device to which he'd agreed to let the OHSU medical staff tether him via a strap 'round his neck all weekend. We knew 'twas time once it began beeping, advising us it'd emptied itself of the 45* hours-worth of all sorts o' nasty-@ss highly toxic chemicals (FOLFIRI) via small tube directly into a port surgically implanted in his chest connected straight to his jugular vein. There were rubber gloves involved, and clamps, and protocols 'n' procedures to follow (I'd gotten training at OHSU's lovely waterfront Cancer Care Clinic last Friday when they hooked him up to the thingie), and little fiddly bits (bright red caps to ensure that the last few drops of nasty toxic stuff didn't ooze out), w/much swabbing and peeling off of adhesive dressing, until finally I found myself unclamping the line (thin tubing), cleansing the pointy bit thoroughly (15+ seconds w/alcohol swap), ripping the wrapper off a sterile syringe (okay, actually 'twas JL's st-mom who did this and handed it to me, as extra hands helped lots, even if'n it messes somewhat w/the narrative flow ;-), screwing it 1/4 turn into the pointy bit, and then slowly plunging 10 cc of saline solution directly into
jaylake's jugular vein. Whoa. Talk 'bout intimacy. Talk about trust. After that I took off that syringe, plunked it into the large red Sharps box, and repeated the process w/another syringe, this time 5 cc of heperin (sp). After that came the bloody bit, holding bits down, squeezing the clampy bits together, and pulling the needle outta his chest. I gather that a drop of blood's normal. This wasn't too much more, but 'twas enough to warrant extra mopping up w/alcohol swaps and then a band-aid...and much hand-washing after adding gloves &c. to the home-Sharps biohazard box. Well, at least I'll have a chance to perfect my technique, as I'll be doing this again at the end of the next couple of FOLFIRI rounds (every other Sunday).
Later on we we ritually burned the scrap of foolscap on which
the_child had calligraphed 1/12 to symbolize the end of the first of his dozen FOLFIRI chemo sessions. Eh, not really as Dump-y as I'd meant/thought it'd be. Really far more of a descriptive dump. But I feel a bit better for it, so that's good 'nuff for now. More 'bout balls 'n' playing games to come...or not.
* It shoulda been 48 hours - still dunno what was up w/that
Okay, now I wanna concoct - and consume - a FOLFIRI cocktail**. Hmm, mebbe I'll just rework the marvelous Velvet Hammer that Murray bestowed upon us as we gathered up our belongings in preparation for leaving the lovely Zig-Zag Cafe several months back. The coaster on which he wrote out the recipe now lives right here by my small (but sweet & savory) Classic Cocktail reference library.
Yes, my FOLFIRI cocktail** shall consist of Gin 'n' Campari 'n' Canton Ginger 'n' Lime Twist, plus something else to distinguish it as mine own. Thoughts, tips, hints, suggestions hereby solicited from
dritikol and any other mixologists reading along.EDIT: Quite possibly absinthe will serve as the final ingred. Taste-testings shall confirm or deny this once conducted. Thx for all who're playing along.
** Named that, mind you, not an actual one.
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no subject
Date: 2011-05-19 04:54 pm (UTC)Hard to believe you could recognize me from my LJ icon. I think of myself as such a different person now than then.
In which house didja live at Cowell (assuming you were on-campus at least at first)?
I ended up majoring in Anthro (but didn't graduate 'til '87...from UCLA (w/a year at Uni of Sussex via EAP)). My best friend from high school - still a Dear Friend - was at UCSC from '81 - '88ish (marine bio undergrad 'n' grad 'n' working full time in lab afterward), before shifting to Bermuda for 8 years, and thence to USC since then. My mom taught Anthro variously at SFSU & SJSU 'til she retired a few years back.
Heh, and I ended up at Loyola Law School myself ('90-'93).
no subject
Date: 2011-05-19 11:09 pm (UTC)I think it was Prescott? But I never moved in--a family friend offered me a room cheap. I hung out in the apartments frequently I could probably walk there but can't think what they were called.
I eventually settled on English lit with emphasis on medieval lit.
Loyola eh? (cue insipid song) The Jesuits, they like me. And to bring it round full circle, I tended bar at their fundraising events....
Anon