Subject: peristalsis (Ed wrote this on June 7) Peristalsis. A fancy word to describe the rhythmic contractions of smooth muscle that move digesting food (called chyme) through the intestines. Mechanically, it's like milking a cow. If the cow's teat is the intestine, your hand is the peristalsis. Sometimes, though, a length of intestine gets fed up with constant irritation from tumours, and decides to take a rest, ceasing peristalsis. When that happens, the upstream intestine is still pushing chyme downstream, but it doesn't go any farther. This is a type of intestinal blockage. Other types occur when a tumour grabs hold of the intestine and strangles it, or when a tumour inside the intestine gets so large that nothing can get by. Three days after signing myself out of the hospital, I had to tuck my tail between my legs and go back and admit that leaving was premature on my part. So another NG tube went down (blue again! don't they make them in different colours?), an IV, and more dilaudid for the pain. After a few days, there was a great confabulation of physicians in my room. First the gastroenterologist, who wanted me to go to the big city to the main Sloan-Kettering cancer center for a surgical consultation. But that takes time and lots of mother-may-I's. So he brought in the home boy who filleted me like a flounder back in February to go over the options. The surgeon came in and said there were about six surgical options to consider. I could choose procedure A, B or C, and the likeliest outcome from any of them would be that I'd be dead in a month. Or I could opt for any of procedures X, Y or Z, with the likeliest outcome being that I'd be dead in six months. Then the oncologist came in. She said she sees these obstructions often resolve spontaneously with diet and exercise. Needlss to say, I preferred her opinion. It took three more days of testing and starvation diet before the doctors were convinced they could release me and not be committing malpractice. I've been home for a week now, vacillating between a liquid diet and a low-residue, low-fibre diet. Yesterday, we visited an old high school bud who lives in New Jersey. Today, we go to a movie, followed by a Chinese restaurant. Egg flower soup should be OK. Tomorrow, I re-start chemo. They don't do it when you're hospitalized. The CAT scan in the hospital, while primarily trying to find out what type of blockage I had (they never did figure it out) mentioned in passing there was no change in the cancer, so that's a good sign - at least it's not worsening Tuesday, the Half Moon (replica of Henry Hudson's ship), the Clearwater (Pete Seeger's boat) and a zillion other boats will be in Poughkeepsie for the 400th anniversary of Hudson discovering the Hudson. This coming Saturday, the West Point Orchestra is giving a free lawn concert at the Vanderbilt mansion in Hyde Park. So I have a full schedule, unless my damned intestine starts to ...