Vacation In The Sierras

Vacationing while on chemotherapy for Hep C has a number of factors to take into consideration even for a short jaunt to the seaside. Adding a few days and several thousand feet of altitude to your relaxing getaway and a whole new set of issues get added to the mix. It is not really that difficult to arrange, but you can count on being sideswiped by an unknown effect or two graciously provided by your medical situation.

I just spent 5 days at Camp Mather in the Sierras of California. Camp Mather is a piece of property owned by the City of San Francisco that is located between Yosemite and Hetch-Hetchy Valley. It was acquired in the early twentieth century through a combination of political hardball, backroom dealing, convenient crafting of legal provisions, and the judicious application of money. It has about 75 cabins, a small lake, a pool, trails, stands of ponderosa pine and incense cedar, tent camping sites, bathhouses and a mess hall. Each cabin has a couple of beds, two plastic chairs, lights and a picnic table. It’s not tent camping, but is rustic enough to be only a step up. It is also at 4500 feet above sea level.

The specifics of the Hep C planning required bringing all three injectable drugs along in a cooler as my dosing schedule occurred during the vacation. I brought along a fully loaded daily drug-dosing carrier that had all my daily meds broken down into morning and evening doses. I also brought the ancillary drugs along in case I couldn’t sleep, became anxious or the pain in my muscles flared up.

The drug dosing all went swimmingly, but the thin air really did me in. The simple act of unloading our stuff out of the car and into the cabin and setting it up, let me gasping and exhausted. Nothing a quick nap didn’t fix, but it certainly caught me off guard. A bit of clear thinking on my part could have predicted this, but hey…
A trip to Glacier Point in Yosemite (one of the most spectacular views of granite domes and glacial valleys that exists in the USA), which is at the 7200-foot level, was even more daunting. As I walked up the slope to the overlook I was constantly being passed by fit, trim, healthy people in their 60s, 70s, and even tough old birds in their 80s. You nod cheerfully, gasp out a hello and plod along.

The thin air also makes keeping properly hydrated something you have to pay particular attention to. You have to drink water constantly to maintain your normal hydration level and stave off nausea and queasiness. Combine this with my walnut sized bladder and enlarged prostate and it’s not a pretty picture. For surviving the nights I have two words: gallon jug.

The third factor is really a combination of the first two. The thin air and tendency towards dehydration leave you even more susceptible to fatigue than usual. Don’t plan on cramming too much activity into your day or you will spend the next day doing nothing but sleeping.

This is not to say I did not have a good time. It was a delightful long weekend. We got together with old friends, met interesting new people, saw places we had never seen before, revisited old favorites and simply lounged around. Even the food was good. I will stand in a cafeteria line any time for turkey dinner, tri-tip steak or spaghetti with meat sauce. The staff and volunteers who keep the place going are great folks.

So by all means head out the mountains whether you are on chemo or not. Just prepare to be surprised by how you body reacts to your brain’s idea of a good time.

Staying Hydrated or The Water Dance

One of the simplest, most straightforward ways to try to moderate some of the effects of the drugs you take to treat your Hepatitis C is to drink a lot of water and stay hydrated. There are many recommendations as to the amount of water you should try to drink every day, but one of the most common recommendations is to drink ½ ounce of water for every one pound of your body weight. This is a simple, easy to remember formula that you can use to figure your optimal water consumption. Easy to figure; yes; easy to actually do every day, not so much.

I offer myself as an example. I am currently about 185 pounds. Since I get weighed every single time I show up for testing, I am a lot more aware of my weight right now, than I usually am. If you divide my weight by 2, you get 92.5 which is the number of ounces of water that I should drink every day to feel my best. Ninety-two and one half ounces is almost 3 quarts of water per day. That is almost twelve 8-ounce glasses of water, eight 12-ounce cans of soda or six 16-ounce bottles of water. That’s a lot of water to drink every day. The advice about drinking water also includes the warning that it is probably not a great idea to drink much water after about 8 p.m. or you have the chance to be up several times at night to go to the bathroom.

I get up every day around 6:30 a.m. I stumble downstairs, put a kettle of water on the stove and make a cup of green tea (about 8 ounces). I drink green tea because it is about the only way I can have any caffeine any more without completely turning in to a jittery wreck. I need caffeine, at least at the crack of dawn, because I am NOT a morning person and in order to communicate at even the most rudimentary level, I have to have a little. Then I read the paper, dress, eat a bit of breakfast, make my lunch and head out the door. By a touch after 8:00 a.m. I am at work.

This means that I have 12 hours to hydrate myself before I have to stop to avoid endless nighttime bathroom trips. So I have about 90 ounces of fluid to drink over the next 12 hours, about 8 ounces an hour on average. That’s a lot of water and a lot of times to remember to drink some. It’s easy to work for a few hours straight and forget to drink anything and then drink a lot and then repeat the behavior throughout the day.

This seems not so much a big deal until you consider two things. The first is that I have been given through the magic of heredity, the gift of a smaller than normal bladder (thanks mom). Ever since I was a little kid, I have had to use the bathroom more than the normal person. The second consideration is that I am a male over 50 years old. This is known as the enlarged prostate demographic. So I have a somewhat enlarged prostate pressing against my somewhat smaller than normal bladder. This results in a somewhat greater than normal number of visits to the bathroom throughout the day. Actually this means that if I drink the recommended amount of water every day, I am visiting the bathroom every hour on the hour.

On the bright side, you get to see a lot of co-workers regularly, and, if I bring my cup with me to the bathroom, I can drink a nice glass of water on the way out the door and both stay hydrated and set up my next visit to the loo. This is all relatively easy to manage on the job. I am in a building, the building has a bathroom, I visit the bathroom as needed. Outside of work it is not so easy. If I drink the recommended amount of water on the weekend or in the early evening when I am out and about, my recreation is overshadowed by the constant need to find a bathroom. One thing you can say about cities in the USA is that easily available restroom facilities are not high on the priorities of city planners, landscape architects, architects, or city governments.

We are all familiar with the pressing need to relieve oneself and the physical joy of finding that relief. Now imagine that scenario playing out several times a day during a shopping trip, a hiking outing, or a visit to a cultural event. That is what I call the water dance, or more accurately, the making water dance.

Staying hydrated helps your energy, staves off the feelings of nausea and upset stomach and gives your skin that healthy glow that fools people into believing you are healthier than you feel. I will gladly, on occasion, endure all the feelings of nausea or upset stomach if it means I can forget about having to plan my day around the length of time between bathroom visits and planning my daily route around available bathrooms. I’m sure I could go on longer about all this but, you guessed it, I have to go the bathroom. Where is my water glass…