to-day it was incredibly busy at work. i helped so many people, and it was beautiful....
i felt very useful.
i'm still tired from the procedure. my right arm is tingly sometimes. i have to stretch it with my other hand across my body sometimes, to get it to stop. i'm just going to have to look up exercises myself, to strengthen that arm.
i'm just going to have to move around more.
lately, i've been cocooning in my room a lot. partially because it's so cold.... and partially because of my achy arm. also, i'm getting the cold everyone else is getting. no, i'm not. yes, i am. (trying to psyche myself out of it.)
i don't feel as depressed as i was before. yes, i still have low times. also, i feel like i'm about to have my period, but i never do, which leaves me hanging in a bad way.
wtf, body?
i almost want to do something special this st patrick's day..... (it was march 17 of last year that the chemo started.) i don't know what. it's on a tuesday, which is usually bagel day. maybe i'll go out for breakfast instead.
there are days i can't believe what's happened to me. then there are days i feel every ache and pain. sometimes, someone will come in with musky perfume that will make me think of the smell of the chemo drugs.
i should revisit the chemo area.....and take a picture. i was here.
i never want to stop learning, growing, helping, believing.....
hoping
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Monday, February 2, 2015
pulling out hoses
so, i went in to get the drain taken out to-day.
i came out of work....and pampered myself. i ate the rest of my sandwich. i drank water. i took tylenol, and the afternoon vitamins. i went to the salvation army, and looked through their store. (i ended up getting two comfortable pairs of shoes for work. much needed. oh, and an overnight bag. not so much needed :) )
then i leisurely drove to the surgeon's office.
i was early, so i dawdled a little bit in the parking lot. i walked in, and immediately stepped into a full elevator. three blonde family members, a frail man with a cane, and a "Lord Jesus" woman were inside. "don't worry, you are standing next to an anointed angel and daughter of God, you'll get better.... and you'll be healed" she said to the frail man. he got out at the second floor, saying "if it only were that easy."
she got out at the third floor, singing and humming to herself.
interesting.
i got out at the fourth floor, and went to the restroom. i wanted to drain the pump for the last time, and take care of myself. i pulled up my shirt, and looked at the pump.
the hose had separated from the bulb. wonderful.
i took off my coat, and outer shirt. luckily, i hadn't leaked much. (much.) i reassembled the contraption, and stuck it back inside my clothing. afterwards, i washed my hands, and used the excess water to try to plaster down my crew cut before leaving the restroom.
sigh.
i went to the waiting room, and signed in. i sat in the same comfy couch that my daughter and i had been in before, and pulled out two books to read.
where was my daughter? well..... last night, i asked "you remember that you're going with me to the doctor's to-morrow, right?" she gave me a look that would kill a man in three steps. i immediately said "that's all right... it's an embarrassing visit (which it was) you don't have to go." and she silently stormed out.
she asked, three hours later, when i was coming back to pick her up so she could be ready. i told her really, she didn't need to do so. later she texted me, and said i could use her car. i did not.
i don't mind that she gets fiery like this. hell, i did the same thing when i was young, and out of control. i try very hard to not feel hurt.... but i'm tearing up at explaining this. i could have given up, and let her go with me.. but, to tell you true, i was so hurt by the action that i didn't want any bad blood to continue between us.
it may not be the right answer.... but it felt like the right thing to do.
i read a doonesbury book on war rehabilitation. it was a quick read, and reminded me of the times when i would buy the single chapters of trudeau's books, like when b.d. and phred became friends. (i should revisit the whole series again. i really liked it.)
it seemed like everyone there was either dizzy, walking very slowly, or falling asleep on the couch. it troubled me that i was one of those people. i should have taken time off for this procedure, and would have if i was guided to. (instead, when i asked when i should go back to work, i got told "whenever you want.")
my appointment was at three o'clock. i ended up being called in at 3:15. (no big deal.)
to-day was the first day i had to tell a nurse that she would have to take my blood pressure on my left side. (i mourn that a little now.... man, i'm a teary mess right now. gah!) the instrument read a little higher than usual because she was taking it through layers of clothing, and she had my arm in a weird position, but it still was excellent, so it wasn't a problem.
then i was taken to an examination room. i was asked why i was here to-day. i told her about the drain, and she looked at my file, shaking her head. then she read enough to say "oh!" and left the room.
she came back, and put a pillow on the examination table. she asked me to put on the pink paper gown with the opening in the front, and then cover myself with the paper blanket.
she then went to the trouble of pulling down the shades to the window. "even though i know there's a film on the window, it sure looks like they can see in here." i giggled, and nodded. nice lady.
i put on the gown, held the paper blanket in front of me, and looked in the mirror. i had enough time to have a selfie session (as we do when we think we look good in pink) before the doctor came in.
"so, they did not find any lymphoma."
"yes. isn't it great?"
"well, it's unusual."
deadpan.
there was a diagram of a breast on the wall. i asked him to show me what he took out.... it looks like he just took out some of the top of the underarm. he said that there were many swollen nodes... he just took out the hard ones. i didn't ask how many that was, but it seemed great that he left some.
i guess.
i went to lie down on the table. he gently prevented me from doing so.
he looked at page one of my drain table. (i was supposed to record every day how much liquid i took out of my drain.)
"looks like we won't be take out the drain to-day."
he was looking at page one, where the measurements were at 20 ml a day.
"there are two pages."i said gently.
he turned to the second page, where the liquid measurements went down to 5 ml a day.
"looks like we will be taking out the drain to-day." he said, without any humour or emphasis.
yeah.
i went to lie down again, and he gently stopped me. he said to come in if i felt swollen, and they would go in and draw out more liquid. then he said he wanted to see me again in a month.
and with that he exited.
thanks?
the nurse walked towards me. then she stepped back, and said she needed to talk to the doctor. then she left, and another nurse came in.
i was beginning to feel very unpopular. no worries. nurse number three was cool.
she started to take off my bandage, and i jumped. she apologized warmly, and with my "it's ok" i explained that my dry skin liked to hang on to bandages. she totally understood.
as she undid my sutures, i said that i had watched how they did this on youtube, and the reactions were either "Lord, Jesus, take a pill before you go in!" or "that wuddn't too bad."
she laughed, and made ready to take out the tube.
"ready?"
yes.
at first, it seemed like i was unraveling. i panicked a bit, but started to feel better the more she pulled. i couldn't even feel the last few inches. (there was about 14 inches of tubing inside the underside of my arm, contouring my right breast.)
she took out the entire tube as i held up my underarm. i hadn't laid down on the table at all.... not even using the pillow laid out for me. (good thing, too. because of the sutures, it was hard for me to pull myself up with my right arm. i would have been turtle-bound to the table.)
i found the doctor as i walked in the hall. i asked, and he told me that the incision's stitches would dissolve on their own. (it's actually a good incision... i didn't even feel like it would bust open once.)
i have been told i could shower, or whatever i wanted.... there was going to be a hole there for a bit, but it would scab over soon. i bought some antibacterial waterproof bandages to cover the wound.....
and now i wait a month to see the surgeon. i wait until april to see the radiologist, and the oncologist.
i wait for my life to begin soon, too. first, i need to heal. and rest. and cry. and mourn. and crawl into a ball, and say "why me?"
but i can't say "i want to die" anymore. i went through mammogram, and biopsy, bone marrow biopsy and ct scan, pet scan and chemo, radiation and lymph node removal. almost every deep procedure known to man. (that i know of.) a person going down this path logically does not have the reason to say "i want to die" anymore.......
no matter how much she cries.....
it's time to take back my life, and survive.
survive, and hope.... and perhaps dream again.
maybe.
i came out of work....and pampered myself. i ate the rest of my sandwich. i drank water. i took tylenol, and the afternoon vitamins. i went to the salvation army, and looked through their store. (i ended up getting two comfortable pairs of shoes for work. much needed. oh, and an overnight bag. not so much needed :) )
then i leisurely drove to the surgeon's office.
i was early, so i dawdled a little bit in the parking lot. i walked in, and immediately stepped into a full elevator. three blonde family members, a frail man with a cane, and a "Lord Jesus" woman were inside. "don't worry, you are standing next to an anointed angel and daughter of God, you'll get better.... and you'll be healed" she said to the frail man. he got out at the second floor, saying "if it only were that easy."
she got out at the third floor, singing and humming to herself.
interesting.
i got out at the fourth floor, and went to the restroom. i wanted to drain the pump for the last time, and take care of myself. i pulled up my shirt, and looked at the pump.
the hose had separated from the bulb. wonderful.
i took off my coat, and outer shirt. luckily, i hadn't leaked much. (much.) i reassembled the contraption, and stuck it back inside my clothing. afterwards, i washed my hands, and used the excess water to try to plaster down my crew cut before leaving the restroom.
sigh.
i went to the waiting room, and signed in. i sat in the same comfy couch that my daughter and i had been in before, and pulled out two books to read.
where was my daughter? well..... last night, i asked "you remember that you're going with me to the doctor's to-morrow, right?" she gave me a look that would kill a man in three steps. i immediately said "that's all right... it's an embarrassing visit (which it was) you don't have to go." and she silently stormed out.
she asked, three hours later, when i was coming back to pick her up so she could be ready. i told her really, she didn't need to do so. later she texted me, and said i could use her car. i did not.
i don't mind that she gets fiery like this. hell, i did the same thing when i was young, and out of control. i try very hard to not feel hurt.... but i'm tearing up at explaining this. i could have given up, and let her go with me.. but, to tell you true, i was so hurt by the action that i didn't want any bad blood to continue between us.
it may not be the right answer.... but it felt like the right thing to do.
i read a doonesbury book on war rehabilitation. it was a quick read, and reminded me of the times when i would buy the single chapters of trudeau's books, like when b.d. and phred became friends. (i should revisit the whole series again. i really liked it.)
it seemed like everyone there was either dizzy, walking very slowly, or falling asleep on the couch. it troubled me that i was one of those people. i should have taken time off for this procedure, and would have if i was guided to. (instead, when i asked when i should go back to work, i got told "whenever you want.")
my appointment was at three o'clock. i ended up being called in at 3:15. (no big deal.)
to-day was the first day i had to tell a nurse that she would have to take my blood pressure on my left side. (i mourn that a little now.... man, i'm a teary mess right now. gah!) the instrument read a little higher than usual because she was taking it through layers of clothing, and she had my arm in a weird position, but it still was excellent, so it wasn't a problem.
then i was taken to an examination room. i was asked why i was here to-day. i told her about the drain, and she looked at my file, shaking her head. then she read enough to say "oh!" and left the room.
she came back, and put a pillow on the examination table. she asked me to put on the pink paper gown with the opening in the front, and then cover myself with the paper blanket.
she then went to the trouble of pulling down the shades to the window. "even though i know there's a film on the window, it sure looks like they can see in here." i giggled, and nodded. nice lady.
i put on the gown, held the paper blanket in front of me, and looked in the mirror. i had enough time to have a selfie session (as we do when we think we look good in pink) before the doctor came in.
"so, they did not find any lymphoma."
"yes. isn't it great?"
"well, it's unusual."
deadpan.
there was a diagram of a breast on the wall. i asked him to show me what he took out.... it looks like he just took out some of the top of the underarm. he said that there were many swollen nodes... he just took out the hard ones. i didn't ask how many that was, but it seemed great that he left some.
i guess.
i went to lie down on the table. he gently prevented me from doing so.
he looked at page one of my drain table. (i was supposed to record every day how much liquid i took out of my drain.)
"looks like we won't be take out the drain to-day."
he was looking at page one, where the measurements were at 20 ml a day.
"there are two pages."i said gently.
he turned to the second page, where the liquid measurements went down to 5 ml a day.
"looks like we will be taking out the drain to-day." he said, without any humour or emphasis.
yeah.
i went to lie down again, and he gently stopped me. he said to come in if i felt swollen, and they would go in and draw out more liquid. then he said he wanted to see me again in a month.
and with that he exited.
thanks?
the nurse walked towards me. then she stepped back, and said she needed to talk to the doctor. then she left, and another nurse came in.
i was beginning to feel very unpopular. no worries. nurse number three was cool.
she started to take off my bandage, and i jumped. she apologized warmly, and with my "it's ok" i explained that my dry skin liked to hang on to bandages. she totally understood.
as she undid my sutures, i said that i had watched how they did this on youtube, and the reactions were either "Lord, Jesus, take a pill before you go in!" or "that wuddn't too bad."
she laughed, and made ready to take out the tube.
"ready?"
yes.
at first, it seemed like i was unraveling. i panicked a bit, but started to feel better the more she pulled. i couldn't even feel the last few inches. (there was about 14 inches of tubing inside the underside of my arm, contouring my right breast.)
she took out the entire tube as i held up my underarm. i hadn't laid down on the table at all.... not even using the pillow laid out for me. (good thing, too. because of the sutures, it was hard for me to pull myself up with my right arm. i would have been turtle-bound to the table.)
i found the doctor as i walked in the hall. i asked, and he told me that the incision's stitches would dissolve on their own. (it's actually a good incision... i didn't even feel like it would bust open once.)
i have been told i could shower, or whatever i wanted.... there was going to be a hole there for a bit, but it would scab over soon. i bought some antibacterial waterproof bandages to cover the wound.....
and now i wait a month to see the surgeon. i wait until april to see the radiologist, and the oncologist.
i wait for my life to begin soon, too. first, i need to heal. and rest. and cry. and mourn. and crawl into a ball, and say "why me?"
but i can't say "i want to die" anymore. i went through mammogram, and biopsy, bone marrow biopsy and ct scan, pet scan and chemo, radiation and lymph node removal. almost every deep procedure known to man. (that i know of.) a person going down this path logically does not have the reason to say "i want to die" anymore.......
no matter how much she cries.....
it's time to take back my life, and survive.
survive, and hope.... and perhaps dream again.
maybe.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
coming to terms
so i won't get to see the oncologist after all... they left a message congratulating me on a good scan and "see you in april".... which is the same time i'll see the radiologist. (i'll make sure to see the oncologist after, though... i like having her as the closer/explainer. )
so.. i'll see the surgeon to get my drain out on monday and.... that's it.
i'll call and leave a message for the oncologist's nurse, though. mainly about terms. am i cancer free? am i in remission? what's the difference? how many years until i'm considered cured? what what? why why?
how?
i'm a little better day by day. i worked a full eight hours friday which wasn't good for me, but i had a lot of breaks, and took it as easy as i could. i'm not drinking enough water.... i'm going to get a filtered water bottle, for sure, when i get enough energy to go shopping. i need to be careful of what i eat, and drink from here on in. is it good for me? will it help me? will it just waste my energy, and give me stupid sugar highs?
hopefully the weather will be better, and i can get out more soon. i want to be healed... well, i am sort of healed...i just need to get over this surgery. i still am numb under the arm. (that's probably a blessing.)
i should get some more sleep......
so.. i'll see the surgeon to get my drain out on monday and.... that's it.
i'll call and leave a message for the oncologist's nurse, though. mainly about terms. am i cancer free? am i in remission? what's the difference? how many years until i'm considered cured? what what? why why?
how?
i'm a little better day by day. i worked a full eight hours friday which wasn't good for me, but i had a lot of breaks, and took it as easy as i could. i'm not drinking enough water.... i'm going to get a filtered water bottle, for sure, when i get enough energy to go shopping. i need to be careful of what i eat, and drink from here on in. is it good for me? will it help me? will it just waste my energy, and give me stupid sugar highs?
hopefully the weather will be better, and i can get out more soon. i want to be healed... well, i am sort of healed...i just need to get over this surgery. i still am numb under the arm. (that's probably a blessing.)
i should get some more sleep......
Thursday, January 29, 2015
results
had a bit of a rough night last night. back and forth to the bathroom.... but not any hard pain. just dull throbbing pain. i'll get over it, soon.
my radiologist called just now.
she said that there was no lymphoma in me. they took out a fair chunk under my arm, where i was affected... and that it must have been an infection that lit up the screen.
i didn't get any other plans. no "see us in a few weeks." no "we'll keep testing." nothing. that's implied.
i want tests. i want to make sure the plague is gone.
i want to believe her.
but i don't.
i have to think about this... to own my own cure.... to look up and see hope right there staring at me....
...telling me that i'm ok.
about this time last year, i was just starting the battle... scared, and alone. buckets of tears, and wailing.
and now....
i hope.
my radiologist called just now.
she said that there was no lymphoma in me. they took out a fair chunk under my arm, where i was affected... and that it must have been an infection that lit up the screen.
i didn't get any other plans. no "see us in a few weeks." no "we'll keep testing." nothing. that's implied.
i want tests. i want to make sure the plague is gone.
i want to believe her.
but i don't.
i have to think about this... to own my own cure.... to look up and see hope right there staring at me....
...telling me that i'm ok.
about this time last year, i was just starting the battle... scared, and alone. buckets of tears, and wailing.
and now....
i hope.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
back at work
a little woozy. no worries. i only work four hours to-day.
my right arm won't go all the way down. bad flashback from the time before chemo, when i had the tumour under my arm. but... it's ok. we'll make do.
i feel lighter.
hopefully i can keep drinking water, and sleeping better. i didn't get to bed as early as i wanted to... sleep wouldn't come. i think i was chasing it too much....
no news yet. i hope i won't get a call until thursday. that's when i come in at night... i don't want to miss her call.
i gained hope by reading this: http://dslrf.org/breastcancer/content.asp?L2=3&L3=7&SID=132&CID=2019&PID=22&CATID=36
Studies have shown that the chance of missing a positive lymph node if we remove the tissue in the lower two levels of the armpit is less than 2 percent.
surely what they took out was the last of it. surely i'll be on "watch and wait" rather than "leap, and chemo"....
but... i won't expect anything. expectation leads to sadness at this point. all i can do is remain calm, and think of work... home... school... the ocean....
anything but what could happen.
one day, i'll get over this "i'll think about that to-morrow" phase....
hopefully soon....
my right arm won't go all the way down. bad flashback from the time before chemo, when i had the tumour under my arm. but... it's ok. we'll make do.
i feel lighter.
hopefully i can keep drinking water, and sleeping better. i didn't get to bed as early as i wanted to... sleep wouldn't come. i think i was chasing it too much....
no news yet. i hope i won't get a call until thursday. that's when i come in at night... i don't want to miss her call.
i gained hope by reading this: http://dslrf.org/breastcancer/content.asp?L2=3&L3=7&SID=132&CID=2019&PID=22&CATID=36
Studies have shown that the chance of missing a positive lymph node if we remove the tissue in the lower two levels of the armpit is less than 2 percent.
surely what they took out was the last of it. surely i'll be on "watch and wait" rather than "leap, and chemo"....
but... i won't expect anything. expectation leads to sadness at this point. all i can do is remain calm, and think of work... home... school... the ocean....
anything but what could happen.
one day, i'll get over this "i'll think about that to-morrow" phase....
hopefully soon....
Monday, January 26, 2015
lymph node removal
i will not remember all of this
so...went in at 6:30. the promised valet parking wasn't there. no worries. son dropped me off, found a parking space, then came back.
it was in the same building as radiation, so it wasn't hard to find. it was on the floor above it
so, i went in, and waited in the waiting room with the son. he talked of the snow coming to the north, the great weather coming to us, and stuff.
i talked to the admitting person. since i already paid the co-pay over the phone, it was an easy process. bracelet on the left hand, and then a bit more of a wait.
then i went in. alone.
i was asked to change into a gown. (a plastic lined disposable one.) also socks. (the same purple grippy socks i had had for the bone marrow biopsy.) then, because i looked apprehensive, they offered to have my son come in and stay with me.
he did
he talked of "godspell" (the auditions.... he ended up singing as judas. he thinks he did good, and would be surprised if he didn't get a good role.)
we waited. uneasy talk. it's hard to come up with a conversation to talk to with your mother when she's a basket case, but he did good.
the nurse came in to check vitals. she found out why i was there. she said she hoped they didn't find anything. i said i hoped so, too.
she started to put an iv in my hand. that's the time my son thought it was a good idea to distract me by saying that another girl was after him. he said he didn't want to pursue someone so soon after the breakup, but that he was flattered. he was amazed that girls were after him, he didn't see what they saw in him. the nurse said that sounded like her brother. i started singing "that's what makes you beautiful.... you don't know you're beautiful..."
my son said that i shouldn't know that song, because it's not of my generation. heck, it wasn't even of his generation. we both giggled.
there was no need to distract, though. the nurse had numbed the area around the iv before putting the iv in my hand. good woman. she started me on saline, and was gone.
i let my son talk a little bit longer, then bade him go. he was yawning, and the conversation was ebbing away. he asked if i were sure. i was. i wanted him to get coffee.... to read.... to memorize his lines for the play he was in....
i wanted him to live....
it was a good move to have him go. soon, an electrocardiogram man came in. he asked my name. (which is what all the nurses asked, to insure that things got done to the right person.) i told him. he did not ask my birth date. soon, he was engaging me in small talk, while hooking me up to an ekg. i had had one in the past, so i thought it wasn't out of line to get one now. he was at the point of connecting the stickers on my body to the wires on the machine when he said..."you know what... is this area 4?"
it wasn't. i didn't know that, but he found out.
soon, i was unhooked, and un-stickered.
yeah.
he left, and i tried to re-cover my self as best as i could.
(edit: somewhere around here, the anesthesiologist came in. he was calm, polite, and reassuring. he didn't have any details on what the doctor was going to do. he just knew he had enough drugs to knock me out all day, if i needed it. good man. i should invite him to one of my birthday parties.)
soon after, the surgeon came over.
"are you ready for this? well, as ready as you are going to be?"
i nodded.
"left arm, right?'
"um.... no. under my right armpit."
"oh...yeah. sure."
he took a pen out and drew a squiggle on my right shoulder. then, he checked my record. nodding and smiling, he said "see you in a little while."
and then he was gone
i shook inside. earlier, i had felt like my bones were cold. not my skin. not my muscles....but my very bones.
it was a hard feeling to let go of.
soon, a nurse came to wheel me out. she asked my name, and birthdate. she helped me to the wheelchair, and hooked my iv to the stand connected to it.
by then i was the last person in the area. there had been a young girl there, who cried on the way to the surgery. her parents couldn't go with her to the operating area, which was sad. it might have helped her....
i got wheeled into the operating area. it was warm (per the surgeon's instructions.) the nurse helped me lie down on the table. there was a foam-ish pillow under my head. they wrapped plastic things around my legs. another woman asked what my blood pressure usually was. she nodded when i told her.... my low blood pressure always seems to catch medical people off guard.
someone put a mask loosely over my mouth and nose, without strapping it on. she said that i would be getting oxygen at first. they attached planks to the table so i could rest my arms on them. i heard the sound of anonymous country music.... they said now they would be giving me the anesthetics .....
and soon i was off to sleep.
i woke up in bed. i was very foggy. the nurse fed me ice chips for a-while. another nurse removed the leg coverings. i was asked if i were ok. it took a moment... then a moment more... as if i were a flower slowly opening up.....
a flower being encouraged to bloom faster in a non-pressure-like way.
i was wheeled back to the area i was before. i teared up, waiting for my belongings, my bearings, and my son. a nurse came by and said "oh no, it'll work out. you're going to be fine, right?" i said yes, it was just nerves.... she nodded, and understood.
soon, my son was there, and was nervously glad to see me. he stepped into the hall while i changed back into my clothes. it wasn't hard, but i wasn't a hundred percent there, so i went slow, even though it seemed like i was being rushed. (i totally get that attitude, though. if i wasn't encouraged on, i would have lingered, and wallowed, and that wouldn't have been good at all.)
they gave me a pepsi (my choice) and then water. they told me not to get my incision wet, and taught me how to work the drain i was wearing. (a jackson-pratt drain... i'd never had one before.) i was encouraged to get an appointment with the surgeon to get the drain out (which i got for as soon as possible -- seven days later.)
then my son got the car, and i was wheeled to the curb, and sent home.
i wasn't hungry, but i knew i had to eat. so, to qdoba we went, with good queso, good burrito, and good talk. as i ate, i got hungrier. it helped to be eating something that felt healthy, and light.
i must still drink water. i must try to up my fiber for at least a little while, because of the meds. i must take it easy if i want to go back to work wednesday.
i must stop writing about this, huh?
i'll try to sleep. i really didn't think i would write about it so soon, but i'm glad i can remember things... and i went with it.
here's to an easy week..... and hope for a good prognosis. i won't think about it until i get the call from my oncologist. if i do, i'll go mad.....
hope
so...went in at 6:30. the promised valet parking wasn't there. no worries. son dropped me off, found a parking space, then came back.
it was in the same building as radiation, so it wasn't hard to find. it was on the floor above it
so, i went in, and waited in the waiting room with the son. he talked of the snow coming to the north, the great weather coming to us, and stuff.
i talked to the admitting person. since i already paid the co-pay over the phone, it was an easy process. bracelet on the left hand, and then a bit more of a wait.
then i went in. alone.
i was asked to change into a gown. (a plastic lined disposable one.) also socks. (the same purple grippy socks i had had for the bone marrow biopsy.) then, because i looked apprehensive, they offered to have my son come in and stay with me.
he did
he talked of "godspell" (the auditions.... he ended up singing as judas. he thinks he did good, and would be surprised if he didn't get a good role.)
we waited. uneasy talk. it's hard to come up with a conversation to talk to with your mother when she's a basket case, but he did good.
the nurse came in to check vitals. she found out why i was there. she said she hoped they didn't find anything. i said i hoped so, too.
she started to put an iv in my hand. that's the time my son thought it was a good idea to distract me by saying that another girl was after him. he said he didn't want to pursue someone so soon after the breakup, but that he was flattered. he was amazed that girls were after him, he didn't see what they saw in him. the nurse said that sounded like her brother. i started singing "that's what makes you beautiful.... you don't know you're beautiful..."
my son said that i shouldn't know that song, because it's not of my generation. heck, it wasn't even of his generation. we both giggled.
there was no need to distract, though. the nurse had numbed the area around the iv before putting the iv in my hand. good woman. she started me on saline, and was gone.
i let my son talk a little bit longer, then bade him go. he was yawning, and the conversation was ebbing away. he asked if i were sure. i was. i wanted him to get coffee.... to read.... to memorize his lines for the play he was in....
i wanted him to live....
it was a good move to have him go. soon, an electrocardiogram man came in. he asked my name. (which is what all the nurses asked, to insure that things got done to the right person.) i told him. he did not ask my birth date. soon, he was engaging me in small talk, while hooking me up to an ekg. i had had one in the past, so i thought it wasn't out of line to get one now. he was at the point of connecting the stickers on my body to the wires on the machine when he said..."you know what... is this area 4?"
it wasn't. i didn't know that, but he found out.
soon, i was unhooked, and un-stickered.
yeah.
he left, and i tried to re-cover my self as best as i could.
(edit: somewhere around here, the anesthesiologist came in. he was calm, polite, and reassuring. he didn't have any details on what the doctor was going to do. he just knew he had enough drugs to knock me out all day, if i needed it. good man. i should invite him to one of my birthday parties.)
soon after, the surgeon came over.
"are you ready for this? well, as ready as you are going to be?"
i nodded.
"left arm, right?'
"um.... no. under my right armpit."
"oh...yeah. sure."
he took a pen out and drew a squiggle on my right shoulder. then, he checked my record. nodding and smiling, he said "see you in a little while."
and then he was gone
i shook inside. earlier, i had felt like my bones were cold. not my skin. not my muscles....but my very bones.
it was a hard feeling to let go of.
soon, a nurse came to wheel me out. she asked my name, and birthdate. she helped me to the wheelchair, and hooked my iv to the stand connected to it.
by then i was the last person in the area. there had been a young girl there, who cried on the way to the surgery. her parents couldn't go with her to the operating area, which was sad. it might have helped her....
i got wheeled into the operating area. it was warm (per the surgeon's instructions.) the nurse helped me lie down on the table. there was a foam-ish pillow under my head. they wrapped plastic things around my legs. another woman asked what my blood pressure usually was. she nodded when i told her.... my low blood pressure always seems to catch medical people off guard.
someone put a mask loosely over my mouth and nose, without strapping it on. she said that i would be getting oxygen at first. they attached planks to the table so i could rest my arms on them. i heard the sound of anonymous country music.... they said now they would be giving me the anesthetics .....
and soon i was off to sleep.
i woke up in bed. i was very foggy. the nurse fed me ice chips for a-while. another nurse removed the leg coverings. i was asked if i were ok. it took a moment... then a moment more... as if i were a flower slowly opening up.....
a flower being encouraged to bloom faster in a non-pressure-like way.
i was wheeled back to the area i was before. i teared up, waiting for my belongings, my bearings, and my son. a nurse came by and said "oh no, it'll work out. you're going to be fine, right?" i said yes, it was just nerves.... she nodded, and understood.
soon, my son was there, and was nervously glad to see me. he stepped into the hall while i changed back into my clothes. it wasn't hard, but i wasn't a hundred percent there, so i went slow, even though it seemed like i was being rushed. (i totally get that attitude, though. if i wasn't encouraged on, i would have lingered, and wallowed, and that wouldn't have been good at all.)
they gave me a pepsi (my choice) and then water. they told me not to get my incision wet, and taught me how to work the drain i was wearing. (a jackson-pratt drain... i'd never had one before.) i was encouraged to get an appointment with the surgeon to get the drain out (which i got for as soon as possible -- seven days later.)
then my son got the car, and i was wheeled to the curb, and sent home.
i wasn't hungry, but i knew i had to eat. so, to qdoba we went, with good queso, good burrito, and good talk. as i ate, i got hungrier. it helped to be eating something that felt healthy, and light.
i must still drink water. i must try to up my fiber for at least a little while, because of the meds. i must take it easy if i want to go back to work wednesday.
i must stop writing about this, huh?
i'll try to sleep. i really didn't think i would write about it so soon, but i'm glad i can remember things... and i went with it.
here's to an easy week..... and hope for a good prognosis. i won't think about it until i get the call from my oncologist. if i do, i'll go mad.....
hope
Thursday, January 22, 2015
lumping it to-gether
went to the oncologist.
so, i got my blood drawn. i was told that when they remove a lymph node, i could never have blood drawn from that arm again. (nurse was very good. didn't feel the needle at all.)
waited in the waiting room long enough to heckle interviewers, commercials, and the weather with my daughter. while we were there, we saw this commercial for bladder control problems. it has this.... little pink walking bladder who grabs your hand, and wants to go to every bathroom it sees. i giggled a bit too much about this. it didn't help that my daughter had this "would you straighten up?" look on her face. (commercial here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqoykQ5804M )
then we went in to see the doctor.
the nurse took my vitals.
"i hear that when i get my lymph node out, i'm not supposed to get my blood drawn on that side."
"That's right."
"should i get my blood pressure done there, too?"
"No. Well, you can get the wrist blood pressure cuff done, but not the arm."
"oh. i also hear that ....well... that one arm will be slightly longer than the other...because...."
"Wait, what?"
"well, if you take the lymph nodes out, the arm won't have anything to close over and so it'll...."
i suppressed a grin. she suppressed a giggle.
"Well, um... I hadn't heard that before. But.....no."
she gave me a hug, and was out the door, still stifling laughter.
(a sense of humour is sometimes all the control we have over things.)
my oncologist came in. she already knew what was going on. it was like ....an interrupted conversation, even though i hadn't seen her in weeks. she didn't have records in her hand. she knew already what was up, and what was at stake..... so there was no wasted time paging through files.
i told her that i didn't understand why the radiologist thought it was infection, and the surgeon thought it was cancer. she said that the surgeon was known to be very direct, without a bedside manner, and that he saw things in an analytical way.
still... if they do find cancer, the plan is this: talk to dr selby in okc. see if i should go on watch and wait (where they check the progress of my case with serial imaging). or go on a chemo known as r-ice for two cycles. or have an autologous stem cell transplant (using my own stem cells).
i told her that at one point i had a lump underneath my breast that went away. she asked me where it was, and if she could feel it. she didn't. that lead her to want to feel the lump in question. (she had asked me before if i felt it... i said i didn't know how to feel it, or even what to feel).
she could not feel the lump under my arm.
she tried from the front. she tried from the back, like the radiologist had. she apologized for pushing hard.... i told her to push as hard as she needed too. i had my arms extended out, as if in the worst tsa scan ever....
and she couldn't feel nothing.
she said the surgeon will still go in, and take something. he will do an ultrasound and probably take out the biggest lymph node he can see, and the area around it. it could take out some of the scar tissue, as well. then, they would send it to pathology.
surgery will be done on monday.... i could get phoned the results from three days after.... to one week after.
and then we go from there.....
the nurse asked me, pretty early on, if i was in any pain. i told her no. i'm still not in pain. i'm numb, and cautious, and on edge, and worried....
and i want it all to end.
but, i'm a bit more hopeful. i'll keep drinking all the water in town, and eating the yogurt. (oh, and these bugles, too. ) i feel like every time i drink this cold water, that i'm washing away some of the tension i'm feeling.....
water's always been good to me. i need to go to the river soon, and walk the bridge......
and think on all these things......
so, i got my blood drawn. i was told that when they remove a lymph node, i could never have blood drawn from that arm again. (nurse was very good. didn't feel the needle at all.)
waited in the waiting room long enough to heckle interviewers, commercials, and the weather with my daughter. while we were there, we saw this commercial for bladder control problems. it has this.... little pink walking bladder who grabs your hand, and wants to go to every bathroom it sees. i giggled a bit too much about this. it didn't help that my daughter had this "would you straighten up?" look on her face. (commercial here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqoykQ5804M )
then we went in to see the doctor.
the nurse took my vitals.
"i hear that when i get my lymph node out, i'm not supposed to get my blood drawn on that side."
"That's right."
"should i get my blood pressure done there, too?"
"No. Well, you can get the wrist blood pressure cuff done, but not the arm."
"oh. i also hear that ....well... that one arm will be slightly longer than the other...because...."
"Wait, what?"
"well, if you take the lymph nodes out, the arm won't have anything to close over and so it'll...."
i suppressed a grin. she suppressed a giggle.
"Well, um... I hadn't heard that before. But.....no."
she gave me a hug, and was out the door, still stifling laughter.
(a sense of humour is sometimes all the control we have over things.)
my oncologist came in. she already knew what was going on. it was like ....an interrupted conversation, even though i hadn't seen her in weeks. she didn't have records in her hand. she knew already what was up, and what was at stake..... so there was no wasted time paging through files.
i told her that i didn't understand why the radiologist thought it was infection, and the surgeon thought it was cancer. she said that the surgeon was known to be very direct, without a bedside manner, and that he saw things in an analytical way.
still... if they do find cancer, the plan is this: talk to dr selby in okc. see if i should go on watch and wait (where they check the progress of my case with serial imaging). or go on a chemo known as r-ice for two cycles. or have an autologous stem cell transplant (using my own stem cells).
i told her that at one point i had a lump underneath my breast that went away. she asked me where it was, and if she could feel it. she didn't. that lead her to want to feel the lump in question. (she had asked me before if i felt it... i said i didn't know how to feel it, or even what to feel).
she could not feel the lump under my arm.
she tried from the front. she tried from the back, like the radiologist had. she apologized for pushing hard.... i told her to push as hard as she needed too. i had my arms extended out, as if in the worst tsa scan ever....
and she couldn't feel nothing.
she said the surgeon will still go in, and take something. he will do an ultrasound and probably take out the biggest lymph node he can see, and the area around it. it could take out some of the scar tissue, as well. then, they would send it to pathology.
surgery will be done on monday.... i could get phoned the results from three days after.... to one week after.
and then we go from there.....
the nurse asked me, pretty early on, if i was in any pain. i told her no. i'm still not in pain. i'm numb, and cautious, and on edge, and worried....
and i want it all to end.
but, i'm a bit more hopeful. i'll keep drinking all the water in town, and eating the yogurt. (oh, and these bugles, too. ) i feel like every time i drink this cold water, that i'm washing away some of the tension i'm feeling.....
water's always been good to me. i need to go to the river soon, and walk the bridge......
and think on all these things......
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