Got That Done

Was up early and downing the yucky stuff you must drink before having a CT scan at 7:30 this morning.  Couldn't eat anything, which was probably good, as the stuff I had to drink made me a little nauseous cause it tastes....  and "I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon." (that description comes from columnist Dave Barry as he tells about a colon procedure he had...see Oct. 2009 blog, "Please Get Checked" for full and funny, but unfortunately true details)  Drank one jug at 7:30 and the next at 8:30.  So, after downing the first quart and getting dressed, stretchy clothes, no jewelry, makeup, etc., I headed to Greenville for my 8:15 MRI.  The MRI takes about an hour and the nurse had to give me some injections that show up stuff.  MRIs are 'fun' cause you are stuffed into a little tube and the machine makes a lot of noise, thumping, whirling sounds.  I always request them to give me a cloth to cover my eyes and ask for headphones with music and...a fan, cause when they put the stuff in the IV it always makes me get warm.  (see previous Sept. 2009 blog about first MRI and the St. Louis Gateway Arch)

Here's my arm with more holes in it!  

After the MRI, I was scheduled for a CT scan.  By then, I had consumed the second quart of milky white stuff.  Just about the time I was ready for the next scan, the nurse came out and told me she wanted me to drink another bottle of good stuff.  I drank about half the bottle and by then, my tummy was saying.....NO MORE!  So off to the bathroom I go, not sure exactly how it was going to end up.  I was sweating and thinking I just don't think I can drink any more.  So I didn't.  But that didn't stop my tummy from turning flips.  Now, my challenge was to be able to lay still for the 15 minutes it would take to get the CT scan done.  

Thankfully, with lucky timing, I made it....barely.  Afterwards, the nurse asked me to wait a few minutes for the radiologist to review the scan to make sure it didn't have to be redone.  Sometimes, they have had to call people back to get another scan done.  Oh no, please let it be okay, don't think I can drink all that stuff again.

After what seemed like a hour, she came out and told me I could leave.  By then it was 12:00, my hands were shaking and I was really ready to go home and get on MY couch and rest.

What a day.  My little red wagon got jerked all around in many directions, but we made it home.  

I'll have results next Wednesday.  Now, my challenge is to not worry till then.

PCQ

Happy Birthday

Last Friday, May 21st, was my dad's birthday.  It wasn't just any birthday, it would have been his 90th.  He was a 1920 model.  My father died in 1999, before Hurricane Floyd.  Don't know why I always think of that when I remember the year he died, but I do.  Guess our minds like to put things in order or it could be because he was always so watchful of the weather.

Me and Daddy - March 1960

When I was a little, I would ride around with him in the farm truck checking the fields.  My dad was a farmer, so the weather was important to him.  He was alway telling me, "Watch the clouds, you can tell what's getting ready to happen if you just watch the clouds, little girl."  So, I still look at the clouds and remember the names he would give them.

He was a quiet man and I only remember one time that he threatened to punish me.  Don't even remember what it was for, but it was enough to make me listen if he spoke.

Daddy served in World War II and was a awarded several medals.  He had three other brothers serving at the same time.  I try to imagine how my Grandma Lee felt with four sons away at war.  Never really thought about it till I saw the movie 'Saving Private Ryan'.  And back then, when you left for military service during the war, you didn't come back home every six months, you were gone.

Fiji Islands - WWII

Daddy lost one brother, Boyd, to the war.  He died in France so I never got to meet him.  My dad went all over the world with Uncle Sam, Fiji Islands, Hawaii, and when he got home, he didn't want to leave again.  I asked him one time if he would like to go on a cruise with my mother.  His answer was a quick, "NO!"  Seems he was transported to those far away places by ship and he, like me, didn't do well with the motion of a boat.  I can get seasick just riding through the turns and twists in the mountains.  He was the same way.  I can't imagine being packed into one of those transport ships with no air conditioning, chores that had to be done and wanting to be back home more than anyone can imagine.  He never complained about it, just didn't talk about it much.

When I talked with my mother last Friday, she asked me if I remembered it was his birthday.  "Of course," I said, "it would have been his 90th birthday."

Happy Birthday Daddy, I am still watching the clouds.

PCQ

Big Week!

This past week was difficult.  I started out in a deep hole after having the UTI with high fever and taking way too long to find the right antibiotics.  But by Monday, my fever was gone and I was "ready" for chemotherapy treatment #5.  Knew it would harder on me this time because my body hadn't had a chance to recover from the last treatment, it was too busy fighting the UTI.

And Lauren was home along with her boyfriend, Jake.  My baby was here and I was too weak to enjoy her. She offered to go with me to my chemo treatment Monday morning, but I wanted her to stay home and get her work done.  Sitting in the doctor's waiting room for 6+ hours while I have my chemo treatment seemed a little selfish of me.  Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to know she was sitting right outside if I needed her, but I knew I could manage okay by myself and she could use her time much better waiting for me at home and maybe having lunch with her daddy.

Thankfully, my blood pressure was okay and blood counts were good.  It is always a a concern with chemo that the white blood count will go down and cause your body to be unable to fight off infection.  That was certainly a concern with the UTI scare, but all was okay.  The only concern during this visit was a weight loss of 8 lbs.  I had lost 4 lbs. the session before.  Still have a little fat I can sacrifice, but the trend is not good.

After getting through the normal discussions about my treatment, I told Dr. Mahajan I had a few trips coming up this summer.  What were my options?  No need to plan a trip if I was going to feel so bad I would not enjoy it.  May as well just stay home.  Don't get me wrong, I love being home and enjoy my quiet country life, but sometimes opportunities present themselves and they are just too good or too important to miss.

Dr. Mahajan was very kind and said, "Let's see what we can do."  We had initially planned to have a CT and MRI after the 6th treatment, but Dr. Mahajan said we could move it up just a bit so I now have them both scheduled for this Thursday morning, the 27th.  The results will be available on my next visit with him.  Normally, that would be the following Monday, but that's Memorial Day, and his office will be closed.  He will be gone on Tuesday, so my next opportunity to see him will be Wednesday, June 2nd.

That will be a big day.  I'll know then if the treatments are working.

I try not to think about it deep in the  night when I wake up and can't get back to sleep.  It seems way too easy for those nasty demons to rear their heads when it is dark and you feel so alone.

I've pulled this red wagon with lots of help from all of you over all the bumps, twists, and turns, on this road.

Soon we will know.

PCQ

Where Have You Been?

Thanks to all of you that were worried about me.  I didn't post on Facebook or update my blog for sometime and many of you were concerned.

Well, there was reason to be concerned.  I have been very sick.  As I continue these chemo treatments, they seem to get a little more difficult.  The accumulative effect, they call it.  After being bombarded by such strong drugs, your body becomes a little more beaten down and less able to handle the next round.

And, thank you "dear friend" that told me about one of her other friends that is on the waiting list for a new heart due to damage from chemo.  Oh yes....I really needed to hear that.  Had not even thought about that concern.  The port I have feeds all my chemo drugs directly into my heart for quick dispersal.  Well, all I can do is pray for the best, this ship has sailed.

I knew I wasn't feeling well last Wednesday, but thought it was taking longer to get over the previous treatment.  By Thursday morning, I realized I may have another urinary tract infection, so I called my physician and spoke with his nurse, Austin.  She told me to get a sample in to them and they would get a prescription called into the pharmacy.  During all of this, I was also having to deal with insurance issues.  With the merger of my employer and change in insurance plans, I have been jerked around quite a bit and when I went in to get the antibiotics needed, they told me my insurance had expired!  WHAT?  But nothing worked, so home I went.  After several calls and getting different information, I finally got through to a supervisor who immediately corrected it and I called the pharmacy and all was clear.

Got the antibiotics and thought all would be better soon.  But, Friday morning when I awoke, my fever was 102 degrees, oh no, not good.  I waited for the doctor's office to open and called to let them know this antibiotic was not working.  Another one called in for me.  I felt so bad, John picked it up on his lunch break and brought it home for me.  Now, all would be fine.

NOT!  Saturday morning, I awoke with 103+ fever, and I was very, very, sick.  John scooped me up and hauled me over to Physicians East Urgent Care.  I was so sick and felt so bad, I could barely walk and hold my head up.  Don't remember the last time I was that sick.  Apparently, the second antibiotic issued wasn't working either, but it had not been 24 hours yet, the time I usually allow for the drugs to work.

Luckily, I got Dr. Martinez at Urgent Care.  She had worked in the Oncology unit with all of my doctors and was familiar with the drugs I was being given and what I was going through.  She was ever so kind.  Her concern was that I may be having a sharp decrease in my white blood count, which is a big concern with the chemo patients.  White blood cells fight infections, so if there is a sharp decline that could be what was causing part of the problem.  I had not even considered that being my problem.  Now I was not only really sick, I was frightened.  They came in to take some blood.  Was not a good experience.  I was so weak, dehydrated, and fevered, that she was having trouble getting into my vein and it was hurting.  John, being the sweet husband he is, knew it was difficult and was rubbing my legs trying to distract me, but it was not enough.  Finally, she went to my hand and got what she needed but by now I was shaking, my body had taken about all it could.  Now please understand, I am not a wimp at giving blood, I can't count the number of times I have been jabbed in the past year, plus, I give a blood sample every time I go to get a chemo treatment.  They check to make sure all of my counts are good and so far them have been, that is why I had not even considered a problem with my WBC.

After checking all of my information, Dr. Martinez came in and told me the infection was resistant to the first two antibiotics I was given and she was issuing #3.  My white blood count (WBC) was fine and we headed back home.  During all of this, I was so sick, I barely remember the drive home or stopping to get the antibiotics.  But once home, John got me on the couch and tucked me in, gave me the medicine and said, "Now get better!"  Within about 6 hours, and after a good long nap, I could feel I was getting better, but I still had a long way to go.  I had dug a deep hole and it was going to take some time to get out of it and I didn't have any time to waste.  Monday was chemo day again and if I was still running a fever they would not allow me in for treatment.  So, Sunday was spent resting and getting as many fluids in as possible.  It worked.  By late Sunday, I was feeling so much better and on Monday morning, chemo went off without a hitch.  My little red wagon had a wild ride for a few days.

PCQ

Wicked

It has been a wickedly busy week.  First, my chemo treatment on Monday, which leaves me operating at about 40% of capacity.  When I have my treatment, I am sent home with a traveling pump that administers the drug every 90 seconds for 46 hours.  Sleeping with it is an issue as I am constantly worried that I will accidentally get the tubing hung on something and yank it out of the port on my chest where the pump is connected, so I don't sleep well.  So far, I haven't had a problem, just another one of those things that run around in my mind stirring up trouble.

But a chemo treatment and traveling pump didn't stop me from going to a play Tuesday night.  Yes, I went to see Wicked in Durham at the DPAC (Durham Performing Arts Center).  It was my first time there and it was wonderful.  But even more wonderful, were the friends that gifted me with a ticket, picked me up and delivered me back home safe and sound.  Not sure who was actually responsible as no one would take credit, but it was an awesome thing to do and really warmed my heart.

If you haven't seen it or read it, the play is about what happened before the Wizard of Oz, where all the 'stuff' came from.  Don't think I will ever watch Wiz of Oz the same way now.

When I was a little girl, The Wizard of Oz came on once a year, it was a BIG event at my house.  My mother always made cookies and we sat down as a family to watch it.  No color TV, no DVR, no Netflix or Blockbuster, if you missed it, then it was another year before you had the chance to see it again.  My how times have changed.  But one thing hasn't changed, those darn flying monkeys still scare me.  Don't know what is about them, maybe the vision of them plucking up poor little Toto, or dive bombing Dorothy, but they really, really, scared me when I was a little girl.  Given the frightening things on TV now, flying monkeys are pretty tame, but for me, those flying monkeys were like devils.

But, in this play, they didn't frighten me.  Maybe I have other "flying monkeys" in my life now that are much more frightening than anything on stage.  Or, maybe I have gotten older and more hardened to the harsh realities of life.  I'm just not sure.  All I can say is, the flying monkeys were actually sort of cute.  And I even liked the wicked witch.

What a great night.  Can I ever say thank you enough?  Probably not.  But it was a grand night with good friends who feel more like family and made sure it was a night I would remember.

So, fly on you little winged monkeys, maybe I just never understood you before.  Just didn't know where your wagon had been.  Now I do.

PCQ

Bald Women

As I write this, I am sitting in the chemotherapy room.  All the chairs are full today and that makes me sad.  Especially, when I see so many young people.  Guess I should be thankful and not sad, that all the others are hopefully getting the drugs they need to survive, just like me.  But today, there are so many women with no hair.  

I have been lucky with that part.  Though I did go through the grieving process for possibly losing my hair when first told chemo was the next step.  But so far, it has been okay.  Think I am even losing less hair than before.  Go figure.

When I look at the other people receiving treatments, it is always interesting to observe their interactions with the person accompanying them.  Doesn't take long to know which ones are happy and love one another, and which ones don't.  One lady sitting near me to the left, is obviously in much physical distress.  She is bald and wearing a clean white ball cap.  Her husband is with her.  She is weak with a barely audible voice.  Her husband is having to translate for her and let the chemo nurse know how she has been doing.  Apparently, not well.  She didn't stay long today, guess she was just getting a small dose of medication.

We are all wrapped up in blankets.  The medicine makes us cold.  The man beside me is getting a drug that makes him have to go to the bathroom every 30 minutes or so.  He is trying so hard to sleep, but his physical urges keep waking him up.  Across from me, I think it must two sisters.  They obviously care deeply for one another.  The well sister is being a "mother hen" and almost to the point I think it could become annoying after a bit.  But the sick sister doesn't have to move, her needs are being met.

There is a young man, maybe 25+ years old or so, that comes in every time I am here.  He is tall, cute, and lanky, with blonde floppy locks.  As best I can figure from observing what he has done, he must be getting a bone marrow transplant soon.  He comes in alone, never says very much, always quiet, and gets his procedure done behind the little curtains that can be pulled to provide privacy.

The stillness and quiet of the room is interrupted constantly by the beeping of the chemo drip machines.  Every time a medication runs out or a line is kinked, it beeps.  And with a full room, there are constant beeps.

It is starting to slow down now.  Only three of us left.  I have 2 more hours and then I will get my travel pump and be able to go home.  But, I must say, there is always something interesting going on here and the nurses are ever so helpful and attentive.  

Today was a good day for me.  Dr. Mahajan told me my cancer markers are down to 4.2.  That is good.  Last fall, when I was first tested, the marker was at 15.  Early March at the Mayo Clinic, it was at 9.  With the significant drop, Dr. Mahajan has decided to put off the CT scan until after the 6th treatment. I am having the 4th treatment today.  His reason for that is; the low marker count and the fact I have had so many scans and radiation treatments, he wants to be careful about any more exposure.  Works for me, especially when it is moving in the right direction.

About time this wagon load got a little lighter, if only in my mind.

PCQ