Doctor's Visit

Today we had the big visit to the cancer specialist at Tai-Da Hospital. It was his first follow-up since he began taking his chemotherapy drugs.

Before we went to the hospital, we had lunch near Taipei Main Railway Station. Around the station, there's a bunch of computer part stores and lots of food shops. We looked around and most of the shops were just fast food joints, so we finally settled on a Japanese ramen shop. But the soup for our ramen turned out to be too salty for my dad, so I had to water it down for him.

On our way back to the subway, my dad told me about how my grandpa used to have a room near here. And how he, when he was a kid, came from Jeelung to look for him. During that time there was rows of food stalls, many of them serving beef stew noodle (niu rou mian). It was the best niu rou mian, he said. He added that he stayed with grandpa for a while, but because he didn't work, grandpa ended up giving up his room to pay off all his IOUs for food and cigarettes.

We got to the hospital at 1:45 pm, headed to the Oncology Clinic and called a doctor that was part of his treatment team. The doctor came out of the clinic room, greeted my dad and asked him how he's been feeling. She then took his blood pressure and temperature. She left, but came back shortly to tell us that we'll be the sixth on the list to see the doctor. Since my dad is on special clinical trials, I guess they don't require him to make an appointment and will squeeze him in when they can.

After about 2:45 pm, we got in to see the cancer specialist. He went over my dad's symptoms and jokingly asked if my dad copied down the side effects from the medicine booklets he had, because my dad had reported just about every major side effect listed to the doctor. My dad laughed and said that no, he was just taking note of everything that's been different since he started the medication.

The cancer specialist pretty much just gave my dad advice on what he could do to counter the side effects. For the swelling in his feet and ankles, we were doing the right thing by raising his feet whenever he lied down. The drugs were making him retain some water and gravity was pushing it down to his feet. The cancer specialist said that the sweating was actually good, and since it was not accompanied by fever, was probably not a result of an infection. And so, my dad can stop taking his Zinnat pills. They were prescribed previously as just a precaution in case his liver was festering from a slight rupture about a week ago.

But he did prescribe a new drug, Lasix, which my dad is supposed to take in the mornings, to help him not retain water during the day. And that way, my dad won't have to wake up every 2 hours at night to go pee. He also told my dad that to counteract the feeling of dry-mouth, my dad could just put water in his mouth and hold it there, then spit it out. I thought this advice to be kind of weird. I think the water is actually helping my dad cleanse his system from all the toxins and the drugs.

So aside from the change in those two drugs, his dosage and drug treatment will continue for another week. On Jan. 31, he's to return for a blood test. And on Feb. 1, he'll return for another appointment with the cancer specialist to see if there's been any progress.

Oh yeah, my dad was previously taking medicine for high blood pressure back in Shanghai, so I asked the cancer specialist about it and whether he can go back on it. The specialist said my dad doesn't need to, since his blood pressure is fine and the medication that he's on now has the same effect. The doctor checked his blood pressure again and it read 122 systolic / 80 diastolic, pretty normal.

We payed the bill, which only came out to NT$100. Then we went to pick up his meds. The dispensary at Tai-Da Hospital is like a crazy pharmaceutical assembly line. Behind the counter windows, which are very much like bank teller windows, you can see several teams of people filling out individual orders. I got up to go to the bathroom and by the time I got back, the nurse called his name and his order was ready for pickup.

Dad seemed visibly tired. We went straight back to the hotel and he got into bed and slept for about 2-1/2 hours. During this time, I went out to scope out the neighborhood, and found a food stall that sold xie ke huang! So I had a Shanghainese surprise for my dad when he woke up.

My reconnaissance mission was mainly to look for someplace good to eat for dinner. I was tired of mall food. I came back with some options and we thought this place that specialized in chicken soup in clay pot (sorry, don't know what it's called in Chinese) would be the best bet.

Now finding the place again was a challenge. We walked around for quite a while. But we finally found it and my dad was up for it. They got very specific, asking what kind of chicken he wanted in his soup - regular, free-range, or dark meat (?). I opted for chicken rice and we got a side of green vegetables.

When the soup came, it was a little sweet. My dad didn't like it. So I told him I'll take it and he can order another one. The lady who seemed like the owner came by and we told her we wanted something not sweet, but salty. But not that salty. Well, when it came, the soup wasn't clear, it was kind of dark like it had soy sauce in it. Another disappointed look came on my dad's face. He muttered, "Oh no."

We both tasted it and this one definitely tasted more like medicine. It then dawned on me that these clay pot soups were medicinal - they were cooked with herbs and plant roots. It was good for you, but if you didn't grow up eating it, then you would probably think it was a little weird.

I didn't think it was too bad. But my dad said that it might taste alright for regular people, but for people like him, it didn't taste good. I asked him what he meant by that and he said that ever since he started taking the medicine, it's changed what food tastes like for him. Things that are mild for us, may seem bitter to him. It's not just a heightened sensitivity to any particular flavor, but tastes can be distorted for him. In that sense, he hasn't been enjoying his food.

He then added that for some reason the only two things that seem to taste like what they are supposed to taste like are: spaghetti and sandwiches. I asked him if that squid ink calamari pasta he had the other night was good, knowing fully well that pasta is one of his favorite dishes. He said yes.

Then he said that actually he doesn't know if sandwiches will taste like sandwiches, he's guessing it will since he had an egg "sandwich" this morning.

I think he just wants to eat a really good sandwich. He's been talking about looking for a sandwich shop for the past few days now...