The children are out of the house-in college, most likely, but they are gone. No more interruptions when Mom and Dad are about to, as the kids say, “get busy”. He holds her in his arms and plants a kiss on her fulsome and compliant lips. “If one were to grade this kiss on a scale of One to Ten”, he thinks to himself, “this is definitely an Eleven if not a Twelve”. She looks up into his eyes and moans, “I am so hot”. He responds, “I know baby, you are hot”. She says, “NO, YOU DOPE, I AM BURNING UP BECAUSE OF A TAMOXIFEN FUELED HOT FLASH!” as she bolts from his arms and runs into the kitchen to try to climb into the refrigerator. (**This has never happened to us. At least some of it. Okay, Lori's never tried to "climb" into the refrigerator. However, she has stuck her head inside of the freezer.)
After my wife finished her radiation treatment, she went to see an Oncologist. Here is my opinion about Oncologists: you better listen to what they say because they are not joking. All cancer is extremely complicated and Oncologists deal with it every day, so I would listen to them. Call me crazy-listening to a doctor.
The Good News was Lori did not require chemotherapy. This meant that she would not have to go through the pain of chemotherapy and lose her hair. My wife has a special relationship with her hair. It has been a constant topic of conversation in our marriage. I was glad we didn’t have to go and select a wig. I probably would have suggested an Afro wig.
The Oncologist explained that Lori’s tumor was estrogen fed. This meant Lori would have to be prescribed an estrogen inhibitor. This is when we met our good friend, Tamoxifen.
Lori has to take Tamoxifen for five years. Like all medicine, Tamoxifen has side effects. The most notable being Hot Flashes.
These are not the run of the mill Hot Flashes. These are the Mother of All Hot Flashes. One minute, Lori and I are talking about some non-hair related subject, like our cat, and it is really pleasant and suddenly Lori looks like she just ran a marathon. Then when the Hot Flash ended, she felt like just ran a marathon. Sometimes, this would occur a couple of times an hour.
Of course, I was my usual supportive self: “At least you’re not in hospice, dying”. (For some reason that didn’t make her feel better.) Finally, Lori went back to the Oncologist to see if there was anything that could be done for her Hot Flashes.
It turns out that the Oncologist was familiar with Tamoxifen Hot Flashes and prescribed the GREATEST MEDICINE EVER INVENTED: Effexor.
Effexor (Venalfaxine) is “a serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor”. This is fancy science talk for “Drug Handed Down From The Right Hand Of God”. It is a drug primarily used for Depression-the real kind, not the “My Fantasy Football Team Blows” depression.
Somebody (and whoever it was you need a couple of Nobel Prizes) discovered it could be given to women who have Hot Flashes and let me tell you-it works. Effexor hasn’t taken away every Hot Flash. She’s not having the multiple Hot Flashes an hour and that was a major big deal.
It also did something else for which I am eternally grateful. Like all men, I am mentally challenged, big time. I don’t mean to be or act stupid, it just happens. There are have been times in our marriage, and I’m not giving out any deep dark secrets, that I have been grass and Lori has been a Lawn Mower, if you know what I mean. 100% of the time I’ve deserved it. I either said something I shouldn’t have (trying to be funny), did something I shouldn’t have (trying to be funny) or forgot to do something I should have (because I was thinking about something funny). Sometimes my good sense of humor has really gotten me into big trouble.
However, since Lori has been on Effexor to help her with the Tamoxifen, the Lawn Mower Lori times have been few and far between. One time, I was supposed to let her drive my car to her work. It is a small SUV and she was going to use it to transport some items for a corporate meeting at the airport. Of course, I kissed her goodbye, hopped into the car and drove to my office. As soon as I sat down I thought, “Oh Rat Fink”(or something like that, remember I'm a Baptist). Just then my phone rang-Lori’s number. I braced myself for a chewing out that I deserved.
Instead, Lori was very pleasant and nice about it. She understood that I have a small brain and can only hold a certain amount of information. She just calmly told me that I would have to pay for my sin by driving to Buckhead (in Atlanta, there’s an area of town called Buckhead, for no known reason, and it is a pain to get in and out of) and pick up the materials.
Effexor is a wonder drug. I wonder why we just don’t just hand it out to people.
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