Hello, Ampho

We're trying something new. A new drug, designed to take care of one of the many possible sources of my fevers. The drug is called amphotericin. Apparently, it's pretty f***ing strong. Lots of possible side effects with this one, but we're hoping it will take care of the fevers.

"Funny thing," Anne explains to me the first night. "You'll think it's funny, Robert."

"What?"

Wheel of Fortune has just wrapped up, and Jeopardy is about to start. I never watch these shows at home, or at school, but here I'm a captive audience. I absolutely love the marketing genius behind having these two shows back-to-back. Lowbrow to highbrow. You're either "too good" for the fill-in-the-blanks letter spinners, or "too normal" to watch the braniacs go at it, forming questions for the challenging answers. I'm not even ashamed to admit that I'm hooked.

"The ampho has some side effects. Dr. Collins wants to prep you, first, before you get the ampho, in order to mitigate them."

"And?" I love Anne's company, but come on already. Just give me the meds and be done with it. There's game shows to be watched.

"And one of the side effects is that you might get bad fevers."

"I'm already getting bad fevers. I thought this stuff was supposed to get rid of my fevers."

"Uh-huh. It will. It's for infections, though, Robert, not fevers. Not directly, anyway. The ampho is strong, and effective, but one of the known side effects is that it will likely cause your temps to spike."

"You're kidding."

She doesn't need to answer.

Here's where I just roll my eyes and sigh. I'm taking drugs to help prep against a fever that I might get from a drug that I'm taking to prevent fevers. Of course. Of course it works this way.

"So what am I getting first?"

"Demoral and Tylenol. Same as usual."

I can't help but laugh. It's gonna be quite the cocktail.

Anne and I will watch Jeopardy together for weeks. The ampho needs to be consistent. Same time every night. When Jeopardy starts, I'll swallow my Tylenol, and she'll push the Demoral in. It's not a rush, but it does smooth the edges. We wait until the first commercial break. She sits with me, ten or fifteen minutes of quiet time, the two of us trying to beat the oh-so serious contestants on screen.

Everything is slowing down. The demoral is kicking in. Anne asks me if I'm ready and I nod or shrug or smile -- whatever the ritual calls for -- and she plunges the ampho. It's warm. It is quite the mix. I try to hold on, try to stay awake until the end. Double jeopardy awaits, and then we get to see who's willing to gamble their money for a chance to win it all.

Sometimes I manage to stay up. Most of the time, though, I don't

Nitey 'nite.