Okay. Wow! How does one encapsulate the madness that was the second half of my summer? I feel like I lost half of this year, although the harvesting and all continued to a lesser extent than normal.
My cancer turned out to be further along than I had thought at first. Having spread to a handful of points in my bones, it is considered to be an advanced cancer. At this point, it is a chronic condition I will have to manage for the rest of my life. Which should be decades I expect, and my oncologist does not disagree, because I am otherwise so healthy.
The first reality check that my body can’t shake things off like before came at the end of July. I didn’t think it worth posting that I was in the ER in April with severe back pain. After several tests, we determined I’d simply strained it with hammering in new posts in the cold, damp weather. I reaggravated the injury in July, probably putting in the floor for our gazebo. I had some pain meds still from April and figured, same injury – same meds.
Nope. Didn’t work out that way. I ended up in the hospital for two days getting my blood levels squared away thanks to severe constipation and urine retention. How bad was it? I didn’t feel the catheter being put in. If you’ve ever been cathed, you know how much pain I had to have been in. I found out the following week when I needed a second one put in, because I was still unable to pee correctly after the first was removed. It’s an experience you never forget. If you’ve never had one, my wish for you is that you never experience it. (Although there are a few people I would wish it on. None of you though.)
Diet and medication cured the constipation. The urine retention, which was related to the enlarged prostate, required surgery (TURP procedure), which I am thrilled to say was totally successful. I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to be able to empty your bladder and get back to sleep for two or three hours instead of being up every forty-five minutes or so all freaking night.
After the hospitalization, I needed two to three weeks getting back a minimum of energy. I spent considerable time in the gazebo looking at what I needed to do without being able to spend more than five or ten minutes a day doing so. Beth did much of the harvesting in those weeks. The beans got out of control, though, and we only managed to put fourteen quart bags into the freezer for the winter; about three months worth.
We did still manage to put up twenty quarts of tomato sauce, only a few less than my goal. And the peppers! It was a good year for peppers. The jalapenos went nuts. We have eleven jars of pickled, green slices and twice as much sriracha as last year, almost an entire half gallon. We dehydrated the Anaheim peppers and I have about three jars worth of sweet peppers to pickle. With the size of our garden, we dedicate an entire bed to Alma peppers for sweet paprika. We got enough to fill an entire sixteen-ounce jar this year, probably enough for the year. (I use two tablespoons a week in my taco seasoning on Tuesdays.)
The rest of the garden produced adequately, with the exception of the sweet corn. This was the second year trying an heirloom Bantam variety; it has failed in both years in different beds. I’ve already chosen a different type for next year. Likewise, our celeriac failed to form bulbs for a second year in a row. Granted I did have them in some new garden mix I had trucked in at the start of the year. It might have been good on nitrogen, while light on potassium and phosphorous. I’ll give it one more season with better control over the soil before deciding whether to stop trying or change varieties.
This is why you keep notes; to be able to make these adjustments. Another change we’re making is the number of parsley plants we put in. We got more than enough; so much in fact we were tired of processing it by the end. We filled the ten-shelf dehydrator twice!
As for my cancer, we’re moving in the right direction. The component of your blood they use as an indication of prostate health is the PSA; prostate specific antibody. Anything over ten is bad. Mine was at 165 at my annual physical, my first in years for not having been able to afford insurance until I retired. It was a couple of months before I could get in with the urologist. By then it had reached 196. He determined, over a few weeks of testing, it was in fact cancer and that it had spread and I got the referral to the oncologist, who was able to see me a week later. It was another two weeks before we started chemo, at which point it had spiked close to 300. The first session of chemo brought it back to 180, about where I had started.
Fast forward nine weeks to session four. (I get them every three weeks.) Blood tests taken before treatment (to be sure I’m healthy enough for it) astounded me. I was hoping for my PSA to be below 100. I was blown away to see the result: 42.5.
It’s definitely working, and I’m definitely feeling it in the days after. I get treatment on a Thursday and it hits me on Saturday, although this last time it started overnight Friday. For a good five days, I feel like I have the flu: muscle aches and joint pains, accompanied by hot and cold flashes, and limited energy. ( I have renewed sympathy for women going through menopause.) As I write this on a Monday, I am still achy and a little nauseous from session four last week. The most annoying side effect, however, is the loss of taste for up to a week.
We grow our garden not just for sustainability, but to be able to make delicious meals from scratch with ultra-fresh ingredients. I’m also a scratch baker and dessert maker. A week where even water tastes funny is as close to being tortured as I ever want to get. I still season as I think fit as I cook, but need Beth to tell me if the food is as good as I wanted it to be. For breakfast, I have corn flakes and bran flakes to which I add whatever fruit I want. When my tastebuds are like this, Beth is quite accurate in referring to them as wood chips and sawdust. If there was an emoji for laughing and bawling at the same time, I’d insert it here.
Finally for this quick update, I have been purposely losing weight; so far around fifteen pounds. I’m doing this through portion control, resisting junk food, limiting desserts, and suspending having my weekly cocktail or two until after I finish with chemo in a couple of months and go on a daily tablet. I’ve been a little peckish at the end of some evenings and there have been moments where friends posted about their cocktails and I really wanted one. But I’ve held the line to this point. I can probably make it through the rest of the year.
Although it may be too early to take bets on that.
The Little Farm in Town 