Hello to all my blog following friends. I am still alive, but at this point, just barely. I had a radical mastectomy at St. Luke's Hospital last Thursday, and now that I've had it, I understand why they call it "radical". They certainly take a lot of tissue that has always been part of your body, and it's a little hard to get used to the new view in the mirror. That, and the fact that the radical mastectomy is not the end of cancer treatment, is more than a little discouraging, but as has been the case throughout this life experience, this strange journey, there is always a lot to be grateful for.
Greg and I had to be at the hospital at 6 a.m. for the prep for this procedure. My sister-in-law, Val, was patiently waiting when we arrived 10 minutes late, and she was a great support and good resource of information throughout the day. After a little paperwork Greg, Val, and I were taken to the surgery waiting room. They got to stay, but I had to be prepped for surgery. I tried to convince them that Val was Margi Nettles, but it didn't work. So I got weighed, undressed, gowned, fitted in the tight stockings that prevent blood clots, had my blood drawn, had a IV started, talked with the anesthesiologist, and then lost all consciousness or recall for several hours, until a man with crazy, curly red hair was trying to rouse me from my deep sleep. According to Greg it took him an hour and a half before I was roused enough to be transferred to my hospital room. Greg and Val were still there, and then when Greg had to leave my brother Jared came and I had a very pleasant afternoon talking with Jared and Val about all kinds of subjects, mainly my kids and their kids, whom we seem to talk about a lot. I felt pretty darn good right out of surgery. I had one dose of morphine, but from there I lasted the whole day and didn't take anything else for pain until I was going to sleep that night, at which time I took one Norco tablet. There isn't a lot of physical pain associated with a mastectomy, but there is a lot of numbness and nerve damage done, and of course it's quite hard to see yourself when those bandages are removed and you realize how much of your body is no longer there. But I was able to recover from the surgery quickly. I had a clear head right away, and that whole day spent with Jared and Val, my mom and sister, Heather, and Greg and Rachel was a very pleasant day.
It's hard to get a good night's sleep at the hospital, of course, because the nurses are wide awake when they come to check your vitals, and they think you ought to be wide awake too, so at about 12:30 I was roused out of a sound sleep to find out my temperature, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation was normal, and then I was allowed to sleep again until about 5 a.m. when I had to get help unhooking from all the machines so I could go to the bathroom. That whole first day and into the morning of the next I had cuffs on my legs that would periodically tighten to keep the blood flow going in my legs. I was also on oxygen and my IV was still in place, so all that stuff had to be detached or be wheeled to the bathroom with me every time I had to go. That was probably the most unpleasant part of my hospital stay.
Early Friday morning my surgeon, Dr. Livingston, came and checked on me and took the ace bandages that were wrapped around my chest off. Surprisingly she said I could take a shower whenever I wanted and go home whenever I was ready. The surgery went well, or how she had anticipated it would go, and she just reminded me to make little use of my left arm until after I had seen her in two weeks. The final report on the tissue she removed won't be available for about a week. Of course the best would be if that tissue was completely cancer free, but Greg says it will also be good news if there is no new cancer growth since the original diagnosis. We're all hoping the pathology report brings the best possible news.
My sister Heather did me the favor of driving me home on Friday, and of taking me to get a mastectomy camisole that has little pockets in place for the 2 bags I came home with that catch the fluid that drains from the wounds in my chest and under my arm where the lymph nodes were removed. The drains stay in until the fluid slows down, so a couple of weeks at least. The mastectomy vest also comes with a breast form, but I need a little help making it match my remaining breast. Right now it's considerably larger. I'm sure with a little tweaking it will do its job.
I was lucky enough to make it home in time to see Hunter leaving the house for his game that night, and also fortunate enough to be at his game. Even though he ended up not playing much and his team lost in overtime, it felt great to have some normalcy restored right away, and the cool air felt refreshing after spending a day and a half in a hospital room.
Since then I've been able to get out and do a few things. I was able to attend Kate's piano recital on Saturday and go out to dinner with my sister Heidi and her daughter, Leah, and my two girls afterward. On Sunday night I was well enough to come downstairs to eat dinner with my family, and because I was already up I was able to greet some visitors who came by to check on me. Thank you to my visitors and to people bringing flowers and goodies. Thank you to my friend Sarah for the beautiful scarf that's just perfect for fall weather. Thank you to my water aerobics instructor, Tami, and to my whole water aerobics sisterhood for the huge bouquet and the cards of support. I love visitors!
Okay, now to list some of the things I have to be grateful for. I am grateful my sister Heidi spent the money and took the time to spend a week taking care of my family. The kids have made all their appointments, they've been well fed, Tadman's been cuddled and read to, and Kate's had the right things signed and returned to school. I'm grateful for Dee and Ron who made sure Tadman was cared for and entertained the entire time I was at the hospital, and then picked him up on Saturday to take him apple picking. He's been very happy, content, and well taken care of between the three of them. I am grateful that the view out my window was so spectacular and beautiful while I was in the hospital, and I could see the part of Boise where I grew up while I was there. I am thankful for the fall and for the beautiful scenery it provides and for football season that comes with it, because football just makes me happy. I am thankful that I had a skilled doctor to do my surgery, a clean, comfortable place to recuperate, and especially for medical insurance so my family isn't paying for this for the rest of our lives. I am thankful for my brothers and sisters who have really been here for me, come to see me, and called me, and for my mom who has suffered this surgery before me and moved on so well and bravely. What a great example she is! I'm especially grateful to have a husband and children to come home to, and to motivate me to make a speedy recovery so I can start being the caregiver instead of the care receiver again. This victim, sick person thing does not come naturally to me and it sure doesn't feel good. I like being strong, independent, and productive. Will I ever be that way again?
There's the update! Next up are check-ups with Drs. Livingston and Montgomery, then next will be radiation treatments for 6 weeks. I am a little shocked that there's more cancer treatment ahead. Certainly chemo and mastectomy seem like they ought to do the trick! I look forward to seeing Dr. Montgomery again so I can playfully banter with him about the "treatment" I've received. So onward and upward I suppose...
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Living Life, Cooking and Cleaning, Timebomb Ticking
Nothing new to report on my health this week. I know that will be disappointing to those of you who read this blog just to hear about what horrible things are happening to my body as I go through treatment. I have tried to call MSTI a couple of times to figure out when I'm next supposed to see Dr. Montgomery, but they don't call me back, so I guess now that he's done torturing me with his crazy chemicals he's done with me. That's a little disappointing since I look so forward to doing those puzzles as I wait.
It's a funny thing, but I actually have felt worse the past 10 days since quitting treatments than I have for weeks. My fingernails have little bubbles of puss underneath them and it hurts them when I scratch an itch, tie or untie shoelaces, try to open packages, or anything else that I do with them. There's a noticeable line on each one where the damaged part is and where the new, undamaged part has grown in. Also, my bottom is much more sore now than it was, but has started to improve in the past few days, and my feet and hands are still numb from neuropathy, but I'm hoping that they will soon recover. I've had a lot of headaches the past week, but I think they are a result of withdrawal from all the medications they've given me to ease the symptoms caused by the treatments, and I think the headaches will stop as soon as my body is able to get rid of all that's left behind. I'm not sure about the high glucose levels, if they've returned to normal, but I'm continuing to eat like they are high until I find out.
I was expecting to have a very gloomy day last Thursday as a result of missing the treatment day experience, but I did better than I thought I would. I took Tadman to the YMCA nursery and did a water aerobics class and was able to get energy and camaraderie there like I would have down at MSTI, and thus avoided that loneliness and sadness I was expecting to feel. The Y is such a great place for me to be, especially the pool area, because that's where all the people come who really have health challenges. Grandmas and grandpas come in their wheelchairs and get lowered into the water with this cool little machine so they can move their bodies in that warm water and not feel all the effects of gravity on those parts that are sore and weak. Extremely overweight people come to walk in the water for the same benefits. Handicapped people of all sorts make their way to that pool each day to get their exercise in, so how can I feel sorry for myself and my small afflictions and limitations when those courageous people make what must be a long and arduous journey getting there each day? I can't. What's losing a breast compared with that?
Another bright spot on Thursday was watching Hunter play football in the evening. He did such a great job of opening huge holes on that line during the JV game that his team scored 42 points before Capital had scored once. In the third quarter Capital finally did score, but then Centennial immediately answered that score with another of their own. I believe the final score was 55-21, but that makes it sound closer that it was. Unfortunately Hunter played all 4 quarters of the JV game even though it was lopsided, so when there was an injury to a lineman on the Varsity team during their game on Friday night, he was only able to play one quarter in relief of the injured player. And that injury wasn't the only regrettable thing that happened during Friday night's game. Centennial was hammered by Capital at Bronco Stadium 40-7. I know Hunter probably wouldn't have made enough of a difference to change the outcome of the game, but I think he could have helped make it respectable. It may be a coincidence, but the Statesman reporter who covered the game said Centennial wasn't able to get anything going until their third drive of the night, and that just happened to be when Hunter went in--I'm just saying. I know, I know, Greg always reminds me I am watching him through a mother's eyes, but Coach Pete was hanging out on the sidelines at the beginning of the game and stayed and watched just until Hunter was taken out. Coincidence? I think not. I hope you all know I'm joking, but in that way that you're joking, but you really are convinced what you're joking about is true. Anyway, it was a miserable game for Centennial, but nice for a mother who got to see her son finally play in a varsity game when it still mattered, and not just when his team was already ahead by 30 or more.
No Boise State game this week, as those who follow will already know, so Saturday was open to other pursuits. I got lots of cleaning and laundry done, Kate and Rachel found Halloween costumes, and I got to go to Mary Dahl's fortieth birthday party downtown on Saturday night. That was a pretty cool event. Her friends had arranged for it to be in the basement of this swanky little place called the Red Feather Lounge. We had a couple of private tables in the wine cellar so it was just us and we were able to converse and play games and eat with our intimate little group. Mary deserves a cool party!
Thank goodness I have all these activities to keep me busy so I'm not just thinking of the time ticking ever closer to surgery. Now that I've told Kate that Aunt Heidi is coming to stay for a week during my recovery time, Kate is constantly telling me "only such and such more days 'till Aunt Heidi comes," which in my mind immediately translates to "only such and such more days until I have to wake up at 5 a.m. to be down at the hospital to be prepped for surgery, be put under scary general anesthetic, have body parts I've grown quite attached to removed, wake up and not know where I am, and then have it all come back to me when I start feeling the pain," yes, thanks for reminding me, Kate! But I'm excited about having Heidi come too.
You'll all be happy to know I made it through the entire week without any help with laundry or meals for the first time since the end of February. I didn't think it possible, but I can still plan meals, cook them, and feed them to my family, and I still remember where the detergent goes in the washing machine. Amazing! We're actually able to hold this place together on our own! Believe me when I say doing it myself again this week has made me appreciate all the help I have received even more. It's a lot of work! That's pretty much all I had time to do other than water aerobics and running stuff to my kids at school and taking them to appointments. I forgot how much I used to do.
This week I'd like to thank my mom for assisting me with costumes for Kate and Tadman. Costuming for Halloween is always stressful to me, and doubly so this year, but grandma is making sure everyone ends up just as adorable as always. I'd also like to thank Kathy Palfryman and Sue Iverson for visiting me to assess my needs as I approach surgery, to offer friendship and support, and to Sue for lending me the book club book. Thanks to my sister-in-law, Val, for calling me to see how I am doing. I hope I can actually talk to her soon face-to-face. Thanks to Ron and Grandma Dee for being willing to take Tadman any time, and for offering to take him during my MRI this week and my surgery next week, and since he loves being with them so much, like Kate he can't wait for that surgery day to get here! Thanks to everyone who left comments on my blog since my last post. I am buoyed by your support, your prayers, and all the kind words you leave. Getting a comment on my blog, to me, is just like eating a great piece of chocolate, and since I can't have chocolate right now, I savor those comments! Last but certainly far from least, thanks to my sister Heidi for giving Kate something to look forward to, and for giving me peace of mind about my family and home so I can focus all my attention on dreading surgery. You know I'm kidding, Heidi. I am so glad you are coming and so appreciative you would suggest it.
I have so much to be grateful for, family and friends being at the very top of the list!
It's a funny thing, but I actually have felt worse the past 10 days since quitting treatments than I have for weeks. My fingernails have little bubbles of puss underneath them and it hurts them when I scratch an itch, tie or untie shoelaces, try to open packages, or anything else that I do with them. There's a noticeable line on each one where the damaged part is and where the new, undamaged part has grown in. Also, my bottom is much more sore now than it was, but has started to improve in the past few days, and my feet and hands are still numb from neuropathy, but I'm hoping that they will soon recover. I've had a lot of headaches the past week, but I think they are a result of withdrawal from all the medications they've given me to ease the symptoms caused by the treatments, and I think the headaches will stop as soon as my body is able to get rid of all that's left behind. I'm not sure about the high glucose levels, if they've returned to normal, but I'm continuing to eat like they are high until I find out.
I was expecting to have a very gloomy day last Thursday as a result of missing the treatment day experience, but I did better than I thought I would. I took Tadman to the YMCA nursery and did a water aerobics class and was able to get energy and camaraderie there like I would have down at MSTI, and thus avoided that loneliness and sadness I was expecting to feel. The Y is such a great place for me to be, especially the pool area, because that's where all the people come who really have health challenges. Grandmas and grandpas come in their wheelchairs and get lowered into the water with this cool little machine so they can move their bodies in that warm water and not feel all the effects of gravity on those parts that are sore and weak. Extremely overweight people come to walk in the water for the same benefits. Handicapped people of all sorts make their way to that pool each day to get their exercise in, so how can I feel sorry for myself and my small afflictions and limitations when those courageous people make what must be a long and arduous journey getting there each day? I can't. What's losing a breast compared with that?
Another bright spot on Thursday was watching Hunter play football in the evening. He did such a great job of opening huge holes on that line during the JV game that his team scored 42 points before Capital had scored once. In the third quarter Capital finally did score, but then Centennial immediately answered that score with another of their own. I believe the final score was 55-21, but that makes it sound closer that it was. Unfortunately Hunter played all 4 quarters of the JV game even though it was lopsided, so when there was an injury to a lineman on the Varsity team during their game on Friday night, he was only able to play one quarter in relief of the injured player. And that injury wasn't the only regrettable thing that happened during Friday night's game. Centennial was hammered by Capital at Bronco Stadium 40-7. I know Hunter probably wouldn't have made enough of a difference to change the outcome of the game, but I think he could have helped make it respectable. It may be a coincidence, but the Statesman reporter who covered the game said Centennial wasn't able to get anything going until their third drive of the night, and that just happened to be when Hunter went in--I'm just saying. I know, I know, Greg always reminds me I am watching him through a mother's eyes, but Coach Pete was hanging out on the sidelines at the beginning of the game and stayed and watched just until Hunter was taken out. Coincidence? I think not. I hope you all know I'm joking, but in that way that you're joking, but you really are convinced what you're joking about is true. Anyway, it was a miserable game for Centennial, but nice for a mother who got to see her son finally play in a varsity game when it still mattered, and not just when his team was already ahead by 30 or more.
No Boise State game this week, as those who follow will already know, so Saturday was open to other pursuits. I got lots of cleaning and laundry done, Kate and Rachel found Halloween costumes, and I got to go to Mary Dahl's fortieth birthday party downtown on Saturday night. That was a pretty cool event. Her friends had arranged for it to be in the basement of this swanky little place called the Red Feather Lounge. We had a couple of private tables in the wine cellar so it was just us and we were able to converse and play games and eat with our intimate little group. Mary deserves a cool party!
Thank goodness I have all these activities to keep me busy so I'm not just thinking of the time ticking ever closer to surgery. Now that I've told Kate that Aunt Heidi is coming to stay for a week during my recovery time, Kate is constantly telling me "only such and such more days 'till Aunt Heidi comes," which in my mind immediately translates to "only such and such more days until I have to wake up at 5 a.m. to be down at the hospital to be prepped for surgery, be put under scary general anesthetic, have body parts I've grown quite attached to removed, wake up and not know where I am, and then have it all come back to me when I start feeling the pain," yes, thanks for reminding me, Kate! But I'm excited about having Heidi come too.
You'll all be happy to know I made it through the entire week without any help with laundry or meals for the first time since the end of February. I didn't think it possible, but I can still plan meals, cook them, and feed them to my family, and I still remember where the detergent goes in the washing machine. Amazing! We're actually able to hold this place together on our own! Believe me when I say doing it myself again this week has made me appreciate all the help I have received even more. It's a lot of work! That's pretty much all I had time to do other than water aerobics and running stuff to my kids at school and taking them to appointments. I forgot how much I used to do.
This week I'd like to thank my mom for assisting me with costumes for Kate and Tadman. Costuming for Halloween is always stressful to me, and doubly so this year, but grandma is making sure everyone ends up just as adorable as always. I'd also like to thank Kathy Palfryman and Sue Iverson for visiting me to assess my needs as I approach surgery, to offer friendship and support, and to Sue for lending me the book club book. Thanks to my sister-in-law, Val, for calling me to see how I am doing. I hope I can actually talk to her soon face-to-face. Thanks to Ron and Grandma Dee for being willing to take Tadman any time, and for offering to take him during my MRI this week and my surgery next week, and since he loves being with them so much, like Kate he can't wait for that surgery day to get here! Thanks to everyone who left comments on my blog since my last post. I am buoyed by your support, your prayers, and all the kind words you leave. Getting a comment on my blog, to me, is just like eating a great piece of chocolate, and since I can't have chocolate right now, I savor those comments! Last but certainly far from least, thanks to my sister Heidi for giving Kate something to look forward to, and for giving me peace of mind about my family and home so I can focus all my attention on dreading surgery. You know I'm kidding, Heidi. I am so glad you are coming and so appreciative you would suggest it.
I have so much to be grateful for, family and friends being at the very top of the list!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sometimes You Want to Go Where Everybody Knows Your Name
Oh, I'm freezing all the time now. I can't believe how quickly and completely the weather has turned and I'm hoping it will turn back for a few weeks before it's cold for good. I will try to give you a quick update on my final treatment as I shiver at my computer terminal. Brrrr!
After 27 weeks of treatment, a few off weeks because of illness--spanning spring, summer, and into fall--treatments are finally done. For my last treatment day, the first day of this super cool weather, Justine Powell made the sacrifice of getting a substitute for her swimming classes so she could accompany me. My mother-in-law and Ron watched Tadman, and entertained my younger kids who were out of school for state teacher inservice days. Justine has been the best of friends to me from the beginning of diagnosis. She has been the organizer of meals and cleaning, Tadman's swimming teacher, a nutrition consultant, and a shoulder to cry on when I was at my low point after the Adria treatments, so it was fitting that she'd be with me at the conclusion of phase one.
Thursday morning started off like most treatment days. I showered and was out of the house before anyone but Greg and Tadman were up. Justine picked me up and had me there by 8:30, and after checking in we worked on the puzzle as usual while waiting to be called. The kind nurse from last blog, Hope, accessed my port and drew my blood, then Justine and I were almost immediately called back to see Dr. Montgomery. After weight, blood pressure, pulse, and oxygen saturation were recorded, Dr. Montgomery came in the room and dropped a gown on my lap and told me to put it on because he'd be examining me today. When I asked him how the gown worked he said, "I don't know but you better figure it out because you're going to be wearing those all the time for radiation." Then he left and I figured it out by myself. When he came back in and examined me he wasn't satisfied with the exam as a good source of information, so he concluded I should go to the hospital and have a CT scan so we could see the results of the chemo. So quickly arrangements were made for the test at Saint Luke's and I went to the chemo suite to have my port reaccessed with a different kind of needle that could be injected with an iodine contrast solution for the CT scan.
I must express that my absolute least favorite part of cancer treatment has been the diagnostic testing. Never have I felt more alone, more uncertain, and more nervous than I have during these tests. Most of the time it's just me and the technician who's performing the test. Usually the technician is young, healthy, and has never gone through the tests he's putting me through, so it's a very business-like and efficient transaction. The technician has to tell you the side effects of these tests, and the things that could go wrong, but when you ask questions he seems surprised that the fact that people have been known to go into shock because of an allergic reaction to the iodine solution has you a little nervous. Luckily I wasn't allergic to the solution, so other than a weird, warm sensation trickling through my innards, everything went as expected and I was back at Dr. Montgomery's office waiting for results.
Then Dr. Montgomery was back, the results of the day's scan were back, and the original Pet Scan results were pulled up. Dr. Montgomery was able to do "show and tell" which he was excited about--it's so much better than just tell, he said--and I was able to see that through the modern miracle of chemotherapy (YUCK!) the big tumor appeared to be completely gone, and a smaller tumor was reduced in size and much less sharp around the edges. The doctor seemed very pleased with these results, and in celebration forgot to place my chemo orders for my final treatment!
When I finally made it to the chemo suite, I chose one of the cool new beds that sits up like a chair, splurged with mashed potatoes at lunch in spite of the carbohydrates, and waited for treatment while my nurse, Allison tried to get the doctor's orders for chemo. When the orders finally came, I had only a baby sized bag of Taxol to injest, so Justine and I ended up getting out of treatment about the same time as usual even with the CT scan. The nurses and other staff had all signed a kind of graduation certificate for me, I got a few hugs and well wishes, and then Justine and I celebrated the right way with a Boston Shake from Fanci Freeze.
What I didn't expect was how hard this week was going to be for me. I am actually mourning the end of treatments! I have really enjoyed being down there all these weeks, having a friend spend the day with me, and being pampered and treated well by the best nurses anywhere. My mom and sister have been at my house 3 times a week, great meals have been provided, dozens of cards of support were sent by my water aerobics class, and now all of a sudden it's dark and freezing, I've told everyone laundry and meals aren't necessary, the cards have quit coming, and I'm feeling isolated and forlorn. Having Tadman to take care of is saving me from wallowing in self pity and loneliness. And it isn't helping to have surgery looming on the cold and bleak horizon. I know, it's a little crazy to be sad I am done with chemo, but kind of like Norm in the old series "Cheers", sometimes I want to go where everybody knows my name, and they're always glad I came, and there are people there who's troubles are all the same. There's a camraderie in being with other people who have cancer even if they aren't really even friends of mine. Understand?
Since treatment day I've sat through 3 freezing cold football games--all wins for my side, Centennial JV, Varsity, and BSU. I've eaten a few bowls of hot soup, watched 3of 4 sessions of General Conference, and spent extra time with my kids since they had time off of school.
I say thank you to all my friends every time I write in this blog, but I am more appreciative than ever this week. Now that my constant supply of support has been severed for a time, I recognize more than ever how much of a difference you've really made. I've figured out it's not the meals, it's not the laundry that makes so much of a difference. It's knowing that I'm loved, I'm thought of often, and that I matter to a lot of people. Thank you for showing me through your acts of service and kindness that I matter. And if any of you need help during this break between treatment and surgery, you'd be doing me a great favor to ask help of me. I need to get my mind off negative, sad thoughts and instead count all the blessings I have. I sincerely thank you all for countless acts of kindness and look forward to being healthy so I return them many times over to each of you.
From here I have one more test scheduled, an MRI, for a week from Wednesday, and then surgery on October 22 at 7:30. I can't say I'm excited, but with the support and prayers of family and friends it'll all be behind me soon. I'll write again when I get the results of the MRI. Another diagnostic test! Yes!
After 27 weeks of treatment, a few off weeks because of illness--spanning spring, summer, and into fall--treatments are finally done. For my last treatment day, the first day of this super cool weather, Justine Powell made the sacrifice of getting a substitute for her swimming classes so she could accompany me. My mother-in-law and Ron watched Tadman, and entertained my younger kids who were out of school for state teacher inservice days. Justine has been the best of friends to me from the beginning of diagnosis. She has been the organizer of meals and cleaning, Tadman's swimming teacher, a nutrition consultant, and a shoulder to cry on when I was at my low point after the Adria treatments, so it was fitting that she'd be with me at the conclusion of phase one.
Thursday morning started off like most treatment days. I showered and was out of the house before anyone but Greg and Tadman were up. Justine picked me up and had me there by 8:30, and after checking in we worked on the puzzle as usual while waiting to be called. The kind nurse from last blog, Hope, accessed my port and drew my blood, then Justine and I were almost immediately called back to see Dr. Montgomery. After weight, blood pressure, pulse, and oxygen saturation were recorded, Dr. Montgomery came in the room and dropped a gown on my lap and told me to put it on because he'd be examining me today. When I asked him how the gown worked he said, "I don't know but you better figure it out because you're going to be wearing those all the time for radiation." Then he left and I figured it out by myself. When he came back in and examined me he wasn't satisfied with the exam as a good source of information, so he concluded I should go to the hospital and have a CT scan so we could see the results of the chemo. So quickly arrangements were made for the test at Saint Luke's and I went to the chemo suite to have my port reaccessed with a different kind of needle that could be injected with an iodine contrast solution for the CT scan.
I must express that my absolute least favorite part of cancer treatment has been the diagnostic testing. Never have I felt more alone, more uncertain, and more nervous than I have during these tests. Most of the time it's just me and the technician who's performing the test. Usually the technician is young, healthy, and has never gone through the tests he's putting me through, so it's a very business-like and efficient transaction. The technician has to tell you the side effects of these tests, and the things that could go wrong, but when you ask questions he seems surprised that the fact that people have been known to go into shock because of an allergic reaction to the iodine solution has you a little nervous. Luckily I wasn't allergic to the solution, so other than a weird, warm sensation trickling through my innards, everything went as expected and I was back at Dr. Montgomery's office waiting for results.
Then Dr. Montgomery was back, the results of the day's scan were back, and the original Pet Scan results were pulled up. Dr. Montgomery was able to do "show and tell" which he was excited about--it's so much better than just tell, he said--and I was able to see that through the modern miracle of chemotherapy (YUCK!) the big tumor appeared to be completely gone, and a smaller tumor was reduced in size and much less sharp around the edges. The doctor seemed very pleased with these results, and in celebration forgot to place my chemo orders for my final treatment!
When I finally made it to the chemo suite, I chose one of the cool new beds that sits up like a chair, splurged with mashed potatoes at lunch in spite of the carbohydrates, and waited for treatment while my nurse, Allison tried to get the doctor's orders for chemo. When the orders finally came, I had only a baby sized bag of Taxol to injest, so Justine and I ended up getting out of treatment about the same time as usual even with the CT scan. The nurses and other staff had all signed a kind of graduation certificate for me, I got a few hugs and well wishes, and then Justine and I celebrated the right way with a Boston Shake from Fanci Freeze.
What I didn't expect was how hard this week was going to be for me. I am actually mourning the end of treatments! I have really enjoyed being down there all these weeks, having a friend spend the day with me, and being pampered and treated well by the best nurses anywhere. My mom and sister have been at my house 3 times a week, great meals have been provided, dozens of cards of support were sent by my water aerobics class, and now all of a sudden it's dark and freezing, I've told everyone laundry and meals aren't necessary, the cards have quit coming, and I'm feeling isolated and forlorn. Having Tadman to take care of is saving me from wallowing in self pity and loneliness. And it isn't helping to have surgery looming on the cold and bleak horizon. I know, it's a little crazy to be sad I am done with chemo, but kind of like Norm in the old series "Cheers", sometimes I want to go where everybody knows my name, and they're always glad I came, and there are people there who's troubles are all the same. There's a camraderie in being with other people who have cancer even if they aren't really even friends of mine. Understand?
Since treatment day I've sat through 3 freezing cold football games--all wins for my side, Centennial JV, Varsity, and BSU. I've eaten a few bowls of hot soup, watched 3of 4 sessions of General Conference, and spent extra time with my kids since they had time off of school.
I say thank you to all my friends every time I write in this blog, but I am more appreciative than ever this week. Now that my constant supply of support has been severed for a time, I recognize more than ever how much of a difference you've really made. I've figured out it's not the meals, it's not the laundry that makes so much of a difference. It's knowing that I'm loved, I'm thought of often, and that I matter to a lot of people. Thank you for showing me through your acts of service and kindness that I matter. And if any of you need help during this break between treatment and surgery, you'd be doing me a great favor to ask help of me. I need to get my mind off negative, sad thoughts and instead count all the blessings I have. I sincerely thank you all for countless acts of kindness and look forward to being healthy so I return them many times over to each of you.
From here I have one more test scheduled, an MRI, for a week from Wednesday, and then surgery on October 22 at 7:30. I can't say I'm excited, but with the support and prayers of family and friends it'll all be behind me soon. I'll write again when I get the results of the MRI. Another diagnostic test! Yes!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
