Hello, "Blogee's!"
Still feeling crappy today. I dunno, seven more treatments to go. If they make me feel this crappy for this long, I'm not sure how I'll get through them. But I will keep plugging along. I am just so exhausted and headachy.
Yesterday I had four appointments: two blood draws and two doctor appointments. By the time I got to the last appointment (with the plastic surgeon), I was almost sound asleep on his exam table by the time he came in -- and he had NOT kept me waiting long at all. Anyway, at the plastic surgeon, I had another fill. These are very painful for me. As I have mentioned, I have a "tissue expander" implanted, which is regularly filled with saline until my tissue is expanded enough to eventually accept a regular implant. The more "cc's" they inject into the tissue expander through a port, the more uncomfortable for me (I had 45 cc's put in yesterday). So along with feeling the affects of the chemo, the discomfort and pain from the fill has only added to my punky feeling. I have to keep reminding myself how fortunate I am to be alive and not bellyache so much about how difficult and arduous a process this is.
I have a couple of days off now and the rest of the week will be fairly easy for me. I have only a blood draw on Thursday, and that's it for this week. Then next week, Tuesday, will be another fun chemo appointment, followed by the post-chemo shot on Wednesday.
Also, I did finally make an appointment for the "hair thing." Next Wednesday, after my post-chemo appointment, I'll be having my head shaved. Ugh. (Remember Deb: it's JUST HAIR. And it WILL grow back!)
Food cravings. I have had some of the strangest cravings. Larry, bless his heart, complies with each one. Some are not so strange, but some are. Let's see: there've been Hostess Twinkies (I just HAD to have a Hostess Twinkie. Larry bought a whole box, I ate one, and that was ENOUGH of that.) Boston Cooler. That was a pretty good one, except Larry brought home plain vanilla ice cream -- my craving said it had to be FRENCH vanilla. So we'll try that tonight and see if THAT hits the spot. Eggrolls. Go figure. But once again, Larry complied and they were m'mm, m'mm good! Chocolate. Not a particularly strange craving (especially for those of you who know me well!), but it couldn't be just ANY chocolate, it had to be Peppermint Patties, which I have never really liked before. And cucumbers! Yesterday, I was dying for a cucumber. Off Larry headed to Meijer for cucumbers, bless his heart. Then there've been the totally unexpected changes in my tastebuds. This evening, Larry had a jar of peanuts he was clawing into. I am not a nut person, and have never really had an especially strong affinity to peanuts. But man, were they good. Handful after handful, it seemed I couldn't get enough. If these cravings keep getting the better of me, the 20 pounds I've lost will come right back. Ugh.
Things here are different all the way around. My pitbull, Paisley, has become very protective of me. She's become like a shadow to me, and just wants to be with me ALL the time. It's as if she knows I am ill. She follows me everywhere, sleeps atop my feet (when I let her), and just doesn't let me out of her sight.
Sigh. I hope I will finally feel like getting out of bed tomorrow. Larry has rearranged the basement so that my three different sewing machines are in more workable locations. Hopefully I will feel up to putzing a bit down there sometime soon.
AND ... I will have baby Duke here with me tomorrow too. I won't be baby-sitting for him -- I'm just not quite up to that yet. So his daddy David will be caring for him and I'll just be sitting and enjoying my grandson. Little "Pookie-Duke" brings me so much joy. Hard to believe he's 18 months old already!
I have noted several new people following my blogs, having joined or left comments, or both. While I can't yet respond to each one of you, please know that I know you are there, you are praying, you are concerned, and you care. From my heart, I mean this, nothing touches me more or encourages me to keep going. Thank you so, so much, my friends.
Guess that's it for now. Back to "The Andy Griffith Show." I love the old sitcoms. They take me back to a time when I had no worries, they offer entertainment without my having to think, and they commit me to only a half hour at a time.
Think I'll go concoct that Boston Cooler now ...
God bless you all,
Deb
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Another day, another nauseated day. Bah. I guess this is part of chemo, though I thought it would have passed by now. Is every day going to feel "ick" like this? Ugh. How I dread it if it does.
Mark came home from CMU for the weekend. So nice to have him home. His girlfriend Sarah came over and we had lasagna, though it wasn't "mom's homemade lasagna," it was Stouffer's. But it did the job and it was so nice to visit with them, even though I wasn't a very good host (I lay on the couch most of the time they were here).
The anti-nausea meds don't seem to do the trick -- or maybe they do; maybe I'd feel even worse without them.
Two doctor appointments tomorrow. Larry continues to do a phenomenal job managing everything! My many appointments, my many meds and the times at which to take them, honestly, it is a full-time job that I would not be able to do alone. This is something neither of us signed on for, but then, no one ever does. I am just so blessed that he's in this with me for the long haul. What would I do without him?
Take care everyone. I am going (back) to bed.
Deb
Mark came home from CMU for the weekend. So nice to have him home. His girlfriend Sarah came over and we had lasagna, though it wasn't "mom's homemade lasagna," it was Stouffer's. But it did the job and it was so nice to visit with them, even though I wasn't a very good host (I lay on the couch most of the time they were here).
The anti-nausea meds don't seem to do the trick -- or maybe they do; maybe I'd feel even worse without them.
Two doctor appointments tomorrow. Larry continues to do a phenomenal job managing everything! My many appointments, my many meds and the times at which to take them, honestly, it is a full-time job that I would not be able to do alone. This is something neither of us signed on for, but then, no one ever does. I am just so blessed that he's in this with me for the long haul. What would I do without him?
Take care everyone. I am going (back) to bed.
Deb
Saturday, September 26, 2009
It's been awhile! And for many reasons.
First of all, as I mentioned, our internet was on again/off again for a few days, so that prevented me from new postings.
Then .... chemo, and BLAH. It caught up to me, and I had a hard time getting out of bed for more than a couple of days.
My first treatment was last Tuesday, and it went well. I had the luxury of having both my husband Larry AND my sister Brenda with me for that first round. I was so apprehensive, it was nice to have their support. A couple of years ago, my sister was taking part in a fund-raiser for breast cancer research, and was making gorgeous pink pearl bracelets with a breast cancer ribbon/charm attached to each. They were so lovely, I bought one for the cause. Little did I know that I would one day be a part of that cause a couple of years down the line ............. Anyway, I loved that bracelet so much that I wore it all the time. Somehow, I broke it, and thankfully didn't lose it. That bracelet means so much to me, not only because my sister made it, but now because of its added significance. Bren repaired the bracelet for me, and gave it back to me on the day of my first chemo treatment. It is so sentimental and special to me. Thank you, Bren.
The treatment went okay, and I actually didn't feel too bad afterward. It consisted of several different IV bags, which they kept changing. Then, the "big guns" came out: two very large, and I do mean LARGE syringes filled with red liquid. I gulped. These syringes were similar to ones I'd seen used on Animal Planet to tranquilize hippo's. Honest. I asked if they were going to inject those syringes straight into me; thankfully, no, they were going to inject the red liquid into my IV. Whew!
Anyway, I made it through Tuesday just fine, with no appreciable nausea. Wednesday I went back for "the shot." I don't remember the name of it, but it is given to keep my white blood cell count up and prevent infection. Now that shot HURTS. It is known for making your long bones hurt the next day, like your calf, thigh, arm, back and sternum bones. And it did what it's known for. By Thursday, not only was I totally nauseated from the chemo, but every bone in my body ached. I did take the prescribed anti-nausea drugs, which helped (well, I didn't throw up, anyway), but I was still pretty nauseated both Thursday and Friday. Today is Saturday, and though not quite as nauseated, I am still pretty wiped out and don't feel like doing much.
My hair is still attached to my scalp, but will all be gone soon (I know, I keep saying that, don't I ...). I can't control much about this illness, but what I CAN control is when my hair will be gone. I intend to have it shaved before I begin to find huge clumps of it everywhere, yet ... I can't seem to make the appointment to do so. Hey, how 'bout this: I read online someplace that some insurance companies will pay for the wig, as long as it's not called a "wig," but rather, a "cranial prosthesis." How do you like THAT one? A cranial prosthesis. My oncologist was kind enough to write the prescription, but alas, no dice with the insurance company. They're totally onto that cranial prosthesis thing, and gave us a quick thumbs down. Nice try though.
The large bruise covering the whole surgical area seems to FINALLY be resolving. THANK GOODNESS. I was beginning to worry about that, but you know me and how I obsess. I am due to go back into the plastic surgeon on Monday for another fill of the tissue expander, and he will have a look then to make sure everything's okay. He wants all my fills to be complete by the time my chemo is complete. Ugh. I believe they plan on doing about 8 fills total, give or take a couple. Not looking forward to those fills; they are very uncomfortable; painful, actually. I wonder if I will EVER feel normal again. I am beginning to have my doubts and get discouraged.
I work daily on my wall-walking exercises though, and am getting a little better use of my right arm now. I have a long way to go -- it's still pretty siezed up. But at least I can lift it over my head, if my elbow is bent a bit. As I said, the exercises are difficult and painful. But necessary, as is anything worthwhile.
The clot in my lung is still there -- I feel a bit of a flutter when I breathe. But my blood levels are where they should be, thanks to the Coumadin (blood thinners), so I think, and hope, that the clot is dissolving.
And guess what. I have lost 20 pounds now since this ordeal began. Trust me though, this was NOT the way to do it.
I will sign off for now. Time once again for the Gaither Gospel Hour on RFD TV Network, and I can't miss that! Nothing uplifts me and encourages me more than Southern Gospel Music.
Take good care, everyone. Remember too, that every single day is a blessing. And every single HEALTHY day is even MORE of a blessing. Don't take anything for granted.
Blessings to all, and thank you for your love and support. I won't ever stop needing it, nor will I ever stop appreciating it.
Deb
PS: I note that the time indicated that I post my blogs is ALWAYS WRONG. I have no idea why, but for what it's worth, this particular post was completed at 7 p.m. Saturday. Go figger.
First of all, as I mentioned, our internet was on again/off again for a few days, so that prevented me from new postings.
Then .... chemo, and BLAH. It caught up to me, and I had a hard time getting out of bed for more than a couple of days.
My first treatment was last Tuesday, and it went well. I had the luxury of having both my husband Larry AND my sister Brenda with me for that first round. I was so apprehensive, it was nice to have their support. A couple of years ago, my sister was taking part in a fund-raiser for breast cancer research, and was making gorgeous pink pearl bracelets with a breast cancer ribbon/charm attached to each. They were so lovely, I bought one for the cause. Little did I know that I would one day be a part of that cause a couple of years down the line ............. Anyway, I loved that bracelet so much that I wore it all the time. Somehow, I broke it, and thankfully didn't lose it. That bracelet means so much to me, not only because my sister made it, but now because of its added significance. Bren repaired the bracelet for me, and gave it back to me on the day of my first chemo treatment. It is so sentimental and special to me. Thank you, Bren.
The treatment went okay, and I actually didn't feel too bad afterward. It consisted of several different IV bags, which they kept changing. Then, the "big guns" came out: two very large, and I do mean LARGE syringes filled with red liquid. I gulped. These syringes were similar to ones I'd seen used on Animal Planet to tranquilize hippo's. Honest. I asked if they were going to inject those syringes straight into me; thankfully, no, they were going to inject the red liquid into my IV. Whew!
Anyway, I made it through Tuesday just fine, with no appreciable nausea. Wednesday I went back for "the shot." I don't remember the name of it, but it is given to keep my white blood cell count up and prevent infection. Now that shot HURTS. It is known for making your long bones hurt the next day, like your calf, thigh, arm, back and sternum bones. And it did what it's known for. By Thursday, not only was I totally nauseated from the chemo, but every bone in my body ached. I did take the prescribed anti-nausea drugs, which helped (well, I didn't throw up, anyway), but I was still pretty nauseated both Thursday and Friday. Today is Saturday, and though not quite as nauseated, I am still pretty wiped out and don't feel like doing much.
My hair is still attached to my scalp, but will all be gone soon (I know, I keep saying that, don't I ...). I can't control much about this illness, but what I CAN control is when my hair will be gone. I intend to have it shaved before I begin to find huge clumps of it everywhere, yet ... I can't seem to make the appointment to do so. Hey, how 'bout this: I read online someplace that some insurance companies will pay for the wig, as long as it's not called a "wig," but rather, a "cranial prosthesis." How do you like THAT one? A cranial prosthesis. My oncologist was kind enough to write the prescription, but alas, no dice with the insurance company. They're totally onto that cranial prosthesis thing, and gave us a quick thumbs down. Nice try though.
The large bruise covering the whole surgical area seems to FINALLY be resolving. THANK GOODNESS. I was beginning to worry about that, but you know me and how I obsess. I am due to go back into the plastic surgeon on Monday for another fill of the tissue expander, and he will have a look then to make sure everything's okay. He wants all my fills to be complete by the time my chemo is complete. Ugh. I believe they plan on doing about 8 fills total, give or take a couple. Not looking forward to those fills; they are very uncomfortable; painful, actually. I wonder if I will EVER feel normal again. I am beginning to have my doubts and get discouraged.
I work daily on my wall-walking exercises though, and am getting a little better use of my right arm now. I have a long way to go -- it's still pretty siezed up. But at least I can lift it over my head, if my elbow is bent a bit. As I said, the exercises are difficult and painful. But necessary, as is anything worthwhile.
The clot in my lung is still there -- I feel a bit of a flutter when I breathe. But my blood levels are where they should be, thanks to the Coumadin (blood thinners), so I think, and hope, that the clot is dissolving.
And guess what. I have lost 20 pounds now since this ordeal began. Trust me though, this was NOT the way to do it.
I will sign off for now. Time once again for the Gaither Gospel Hour on RFD TV Network, and I can't miss that! Nothing uplifts me and encourages me more than Southern Gospel Music.
Take good care, everyone. Remember too, that every single day is a blessing. And every single HEALTHY day is even MORE of a blessing. Don't take anything for granted.
Blessings to all, and thank you for your love and support. I won't ever stop needing it, nor will I ever stop appreciating it.
Deb
PS: I note that the time indicated that I post my blogs is ALWAYS WRONG. I have no idea why, but for what it's worth, this particular post was completed at 7 p.m. Saturday. Go figger.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Well, our internet is on the fritz. It's been coming and going for 2 days now. I feel like I am cut off from the world without the internet. Service person is coming out here Wednesday to try to fix it. Dang.
Chemo starts tomorrow, and I am a nervous wreck. Plus, other stresses here at home are adding to my high anxiety level. 'Nuff said on that.
Anyway, please pray for me. I am so dreading this chemo. I don't know why, because this is what is going to HELP me keep anymore cancer AWAY. I am not particularly fearful of IV's, so I am really not sure why I am so scared. Maybe the hair loss, maybe the nausea. I do hope I will continue to have your prayers as I enter this phase of my treatment. Thank you.
If our internet is in an "on-again" state, I'll let you know on tomorrow's blog how the first chemo went.
Blessings,
Deb
Chemo starts tomorrow, and I am a nervous wreck. Plus, other stresses here at home are adding to my high anxiety level. 'Nuff said on that.
Anyway, please pray for me. I am so dreading this chemo. I don't know why, because this is what is going to HELP me keep anymore cancer AWAY. I am not particularly fearful of IV's, so I am really not sure why I am so scared. Maybe the hair loss, maybe the nausea. I do hope I will continue to have your prayers as I enter this phase of my treatment. Thank you.
If our internet is in an "on-again" state, I'll let you know on tomorrow's blog how the first chemo went.
Blessings,
Deb
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Wow, just when I thought I was starting to feel prettty good, today I feel crummy again. I got out and about for the first time by myself yesterday, drove for the first time, and maybe I over-did a bit. I am having quite a bit of pain today, whereas before, it had nearly subsided. Rats. Earlier today, I was putting together some small gift bags for three specific people on the Troy Beumont staff who really touched me, really helped me through. By the time I ran upstairs a couple of times for scissors and tape (home office is up there), then to the basement a few times for wrapping paper and ribbon, I think I wore myself out. Now I am back to headaches and surgical pain. It's deceiving, because when I think I feel well enough to do things, I forget that I still need to take it pretty easy. This darn tissue expander is so uncomfortable too. Although the area is numb, I still feel the edges of the tissue expander, especially reaching up under my arm. So uncomfortable. And there for several months to come. Ugh.
I hope I start feeling better before I start chemo on Tuesday. The way I feel now, I am not sure I am strong enough to throw chemo on top of already feeling so lousy. Darn it.
Then there's the worry over whether this lousy feeling is normal. Is it normal to feel crummy 6 weeks post-op? Still drained of energy, and still in a good bit of pain? I am on so many darn meds too, that I hated to throw Tylenol in on top of it. But I did, and it did no good anyway. I have been off the Vicadin for quite some time now, so I hate to go back to that again ... gosh, this recuperation, as well as the stress of the unknown ahead is proving to be quite a challenge.
I also note that a few of my breast cancer survivor sisters underwent chemo for a lot less time than I am slated for. Most of them were 4 to 6 treatments, whereas I am prescribed 8. You know me, this makes me obsess too, wondering why I have to have so many extra treatments.
I bought a couple of pink terry cloth turbans yesterday while I was out and about. I got them at Bed, Bath and Beyond, in their "Breast Cancer Awareness" section, trying to prepare for the head of hair that will soon be all gone. And I will picking up my wig soon, too. Sigh. I am hoping that once I get into the chemo routine, my stress will subside somewhat. I know I will feel ill -- they've already told me that -- but if I could be ill without the stress of the unknown, it would sure help.
The "guilties" are starting to get to me too. I feel terrible just sitting while Larry buzzes all around me cleaning and grocery shopping. Larry is out this evening for a little bit, helping his son with a car issue. So for now, it's just me and the pups. It is amazing how much comfort and companionship my dogs offer, especially the big, 70-pound pitbull. She's like having another person sitting next to me, so warm, cuddly and calming.
Guess that's it for today. Feeling pretty blah, so I'll sign off for now. Cards, emails and prayers continue to pour in. All are such a welcome comfort to me; I never get tired of hearing from so many. Thank you. How I wish I could reply to each individually, but I am blessed to have so many good wishes coming my way, that it's impossible to respond to each, at least right now. So the blogs will have to continue to suffice. Thanks to all for understanding.
God bless,
Deb
I hope I start feeling better before I start chemo on Tuesday. The way I feel now, I am not sure I am strong enough to throw chemo on top of already feeling so lousy. Darn it.
Then there's the worry over whether this lousy feeling is normal. Is it normal to feel crummy 6 weeks post-op? Still drained of energy, and still in a good bit of pain? I am on so many darn meds too, that I hated to throw Tylenol in on top of it. But I did, and it did no good anyway. I have been off the Vicadin for quite some time now, so I hate to go back to that again ... gosh, this recuperation, as well as the stress of the unknown ahead is proving to be quite a challenge.
I also note that a few of my breast cancer survivor sisters underwent chemo for a lot less time than I am slated for. Most of them were 4 to 6 treatments, whereas I am prescribed 8. You know me, this makes me obsess too, wondering why I have to have so many extra treatments.
I bought a couple of pink terry cloth turbans yesterday while I was out and about. I got them at Bed, Bath and Beyond, in their "Breast Cancer Awareness" section, trying to prepare for the head of hair that will soon be all gone. And I will picking up my wig soon, too. Sigh. I am hoping that once I get into the chemo routine, my stress will subside somewhat. I know I will feel ill -- they've already told me that -- but if I could be ill without the stress of the unknown, it would sure help.
The "guilties" are starting to get to me too. I feel terrible just sitting while Larry buzzes all around me cleaning and grocery shopping. Larry is out this evening for a little bit, helping his son with a car issue. So for now, it's just me and the pups. It is amazing how much comfort and companionship my dogs offer, especially the big, 70-pound pitbull. She's like having another person sitting next to me, so warm, cuddly and calming.
Guess that's it for today. Feeling pretty blah, so I'll sign off for now. Cards, emails and prayers continue to pour in. All are such a welcome comfort to me; I never get tired of hearing from so many. Thank you. How I wish I could reply to each individually, but I am blessed to have so many good wishes coming my way, that it's impossible to respond to each, at least right now. So the blogs will have to continue to suffice. Thanks to all for understanding.
God bless,
Deb
Friday, September 18, 2009
Hello family and friends,
Well, today was a pretty good day. It was the first day I drove all by myself since my ordeal began. Kinda hard backing up the car, when I have to put my right arm on the passenger seat and twist my body backward. But I made it. I actually went to Joann Fabrics, bought myself some fleece (in a breast cancer, pink ribbon print) and actually made -- and completed -- a blanket/quilt. It was difficult using my right arm at the sewing machine, but I got through it. They say the chemo lab is chilly, so I am trying to get prepared by having a special blanket ready to use. (Although, how does one really prepare for a journey like this one?) Anyway, I found a breast cancer fleece print with different breast cancer-motif squares. I bought a solid pink fleece to back it with, then machine sewed the two layers together, sewing around each square. Then jumped over to my serger and serged all around the edges. Very simple, and very cuddly. Kind of a security blanket. Right now I'll take all the security I can get; I am so nervous and so scared.
I was apprehensive not only to drive by myself, but to BE by myself. Larry worked today (he drives a bus part time for Oakand County), and was gone all day for the first time since my surgery. So I got brave. By the time I got home, then worked on the blanket though, I was exhausted. So here I sit, trying to relax and update my blog.
My sister Brenda keeps advising me to find "satisfying distractions." Good advice! So that is what I tried to do by making this blanket today. It really did help take my mind off of things a little. Thanks, Bren! I may have overdone a bit though; I'm pretty tired now. And I am VERY nervous about starting chemo. How ill will I be? Will I be courageous enough to get through all eight treatments without becoming dibilitatingly ill? Will my veins hold up? (I sure hope so ... I do NOT want that port!)
Larry continues to be my Rock of Gibralter. He has been so good to me and takes SUCH good care of me. He is quite a man, and has really shown what he's made of with this situation.
The pain is getting more manageable now, other than the painful arm exercises I have to keep doing to strengthen my right arm and stretch those muscles. Once in awhile, I get a stabbing pain in the back of my upper arm, and/or my armpit, which I believe to be from the lymph node removal. I also still have a huge bruise covering the entire surgical area. I wish that would go away; it only makes things look even worse than they already are. :(
I continue to count my many blessings every single day. All the cards, emails, blog comments, calls and overall concern have touched me beyond measure. And I KNOW that these are the things giving me strength to face what's ahead. Support is vital and so appreciated. But when it comes right down to it, no one can take this journey for me -- I must do it by myself. So I humbly thank all of you for being there to cheer me on, to uplift me, and give me strength and encouragement. I don't know how I would make it through without all of you.
I am pooping out, so I will say goodnight for now. Thank you everyone, for reading my blogs and being interested and concerned enough to do so.
God's blessings to you all,
Deb
Well, today was a pretty good day. It was the first day I drove all by myself since my ordeal began. Kinda hard backing up the car, when I have to put my right arm on the passenger seat and twist my body backward. But I made it. I actually went to Joann Fabrics, bought myself some fleece (in a breast cancer, pink ribbon print) and actually made -- and completed -- a blanket/quilt. It was difficult using my right arm at the sewing machine, but I got through it. They say the chemo lab is chilly, so I am trying to get prepared by having a special blanket ready to use. (Although, how does one really prepare for a journey like this one?) Anyway, I found a breast cancer fleece print with different breast cancer-motif squares. I bought a solid pink fleece to back it with, then machine sewed the two layers together, sewing around each square. Then jumped over to my serger and serged all around the edges. Very simple, and very cuddly. Kind of a security blanket. Right now I'll take all the security I can get; I am so nervous and so scared.
I was apprehensive not only to drive by myself, but to BE by myself. Larry worked today (he drives a bus part time for Oakand County), and was gone all day for the first time since my surgery. So I got brave. By the time I got home, then worked on the blanket though, I was exhausted. So here I sit, trying to relax and update my blog.
My sister Brenda keeps advising me to find "satisfying distractions." Good advice! So that is what I tried to do by making this blanket today. It really did help take my mind off of things a little. Thanks, Bren! I may have overdone a bit though; I'm pretty tired now. And I am VERY nervous about starting chemo. How ill will I be? Will I be courageous enough to get through all eight treatments without becoming dibilitatingly ill? Will my veins hold up? (I sure hope so ... I do NOT want that port!)
Larry continues to be my Rock of Gibralter. He has been so good to me and takes SUCH good care of me. He is quite a man, and has really shown what he's made of with this situation.
The pain is getting more manageable now, other than the painful arm exercises I have to keep doing to strengthen my right arm and stretch those muscles. Once in awhile, I get a stabbing pain in the back of my upper arm, and/or my armpit, which I believe to be from the lymph node removal. I also still have a huge bruise covering the entire surgical area. I wish that would go away; it only makes things look even worse than they already are. :(
I continue to count my many blessings every single day. All the cards, emails, blog comments, calls and overall concern have touched me beyond measure. And I KNOW that these are the things giving me strength to face what's ahead. Support is vital and so appreciated. But when it comes right down to it, no one can take this journey for me -- I must do it by myself. So I humbly thank all of you for being there to cheer me on, to uplift me, and give me strength and encouragement. I don't know how I would make it through without all of you.
I am pooping out, so I will say goodnight for now. Thank you everyone, for reading my blogs and being interested and concerned enough to do so.
God's blessings to you all,
Deb
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Hello for today,
We just got home from a "chemo class," in preparation for my chemo treatments that begin on Tuesday. It will be a very demanding 4 months. Not only will we have to make the trip to Troy Beaumont for a chemo treatment every other Tuesday, but we will also have to see the doctor the day before chemo, and return to the chemo clinic the day after chemo for a shot to keep my white blood cell count up. So it's THREE trips to Beaumont Hospital every other week instead of just one. And now I am REALLY SORRY we no longer live a stone's throw away there in nearby Rochester. Living way out here in Ortonville, it's nearly a 30-mile trip one way to the hospital. What a drag.
Then there'll be the other doctor visits in between, to the plastic surgeon -- those are also every other week, and just as far away from home.
We also learned today about all the specific negative side affects of the chemo. I won't go into all of them here, but it sure doesn't sound like much fun. Thousands of women go through this same regimine each year, however. I am not the first, and unfortunately I won't be the last. They've all made it through, and so will I, even though I am sure not looking forward to it. Larry vows to drive me to each treatment, and sit through each of them with me. I am so fortunate. Like so many other spouses who are primary caregivers to their wives through this God-awful disease, Larry deserves a medal. There is a lot more to this than meets the eye.
The lady who conducted our one-on-one chemo class today, Veronica, is a recent breast cancer survivor herself. In fact, she just finished the last of her treatements (both chemo and radiation) in May. Her hair is just now beginning to come in. She was a great inspiration to me, and was able to offer a firsthand view of what I can expect. In addition, her husband is the head of oncology of the Royal Oak Beaumont facility. So she had the advantage of living with her oncologist, who could give her extra tips on how to get through the rigerous treatments, which she passed along to me. She was a great comfort, and as I said, such an inspiration.
And OH MAN, these arm exercises are extremely painful! I am not doing so well with them and should be further along. I keep trying to "walk the walls" as the exercises dictate, but I sure can't get very far up that wall yet. It just hurts ... a LOT. But I can't give up -- I do NOT want to lose full use of my right arm!
So that's it for today. I always appreciate knowing someone out there is reading these blogs. You are all my support team, and from all of you, I draw such strength. Thank you.
We just got home from a "chemo class," in preparation for my chemo treatments that begin on Tuesday. It will be a very demanding 4 months. Not only will we have to make the trip to Troy Beaumont for a chemo treatment every other Tuesday, but we will also have to see the doctor the day before chemo, and return to the chemo clinic the day after chemo for a shot to keep my white blood cell count up. So it's THREE trips to Beaumont Hospital every other week instead of just one. And now I am REALLY SORRY we no longer live a stone's throw away there in nearby Rochester. Living way out here in Ortonville, it's nearly a 30-mile trip one way to the hospital. What a drag.
Then there'll be the other doctor visits in between, to the plastic surgeon -- those are also every other week, and just as far away from home.
We also learned today about all the specific negative side affects of the chemo. I won't go into all of them here, but it sure doesn't sound like much fun. Thousands of women go through this same regimine each year, however. I am not the first, and unfortunately I won't be the last. They've all made it through, and so will I, even though I am sure not looking forward to it. Larry vows to drive me to each treatment, and sit through each of them with me. I am so fortunate. Like so many other spouses who are primary caregivers to their wives through this God-awful disease, Larry deserves a medal. There is a lot more to this than meets the eye.
The lady who conducted our one-on-one chemo class today, Veronica, is a recent breast cancer survivor herself. In fact, she just finished the last of her treatements (both chemo and radiation) in May. Her hair is just now beginning to come in. She was a great inspiration to me, and was able to offer a firsthand view of what I can expect. In addition, her husband is the head of oncology of the Royal Oak Beaumont facility. So she had the advantage of living with her oncologist, who could give her extra tips on how to get through the rigerous treatments, which she passed along to me. She was a great comfort, and as I said, such an inspiration.
And OH MAN, these arm exercises are extremely painful! I am not doing so well with them and should be further along. I keep trying to "walk the walls" as the exercises dictate, but I sure can't get very far up that wall yet. It just hurts ... a LOT. But I can't give up -- I do NOT want to lose full use of my right arm!
So that's it for today. I always appreciate knowing someone out there is reading these blogs. You are all my support team, and from all of you, I draw such strength. Thank you.
Love to all,
Deb
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Okay, here we go!
I got my chemotherapy schedule today. Ugh, how I dread it. But, I have to keep telling myself that this is going to keep the cancer beast from returning, it's going to help me, and it's going to work to keep me safe and healthy.
The schedule is a bit different than we'd first expected. I will be going for four treatments every two weeks (instead of every three weeks as we'd first been told). Chemo will be divided into two different kinds. The first kind takes two hours per treatment, and I will go every two weeks. So, for the first half of my chemo, I will be going on Sept 22, Oct 6, Oct 20, and Nov 3, all at 10:40 a.m.
The second half of the chemo treatment is a bit stronger, will still be four treatments every two weeks, but will last four hours. (Dates for these treatments have not yet been scheduled, but they will immediately follow the first half, without breaking the every-two-weeks regemine.) Therefore, chemo will last a total of 16 weeks.
According to my pathology report, I was not "HER-II Positive," so I will NOT need the Herceptin drug for the remainder of the year as was first anticipated. That is good news, especially for my veins.
I have, at this point, chosen not to get a mediport implanted and am going to see how my veins hold up. Please pray that they stay strong. I really don't want a port. However, now that the treatments will be every two weeks instead of every three, as we'd first thought, it will be harder on my veins, with less time in between treatments for them to recover. Additionally, since I had those 19 lymph nodes removed from my right arm, I am no longer ever again able to use that arm for blood draws, blood pressure, or IV's. That gives me only my poor ol' left arm to handle the job alone. I sure hope it holds up.
So, if all goes well, it looks like all my chemo treatments will conclude around the end of December. Maybe my hair will be somewhat back by summer then!
And of course, treatments will continue with radiaion for five or six weeks on the heels of chemo. Then reconstruction ... sigh ... a lot ahead. BUT AT LEAST MY LIFE WAS SPARED!
The blood clot is still being monitored closely too, and we are praying that the blood thinners continue to do their job in keeping this life-threatening situation from getting out of hand again. I have been having to take things real easy because of this, and that's okay.
So that's today's update. Thank you all ever so much for all the prayers and the concern. I love all of you for it, and will never forget how much everyone cares. I hope I am one day able to show all of you what it has meant to me.
Till next time,
Deb
I got my chemotherapy schedule today. Ugh, how I dread it. But, I have to keep telling myself that this is going to keep the cancer beast from returning, it's going to help me, and it's going to work to keep me safe and healthy.
The schedule is a bit different than we'd first expected. I will be going for four treatments every two weeks (instead of every three weeks as we'd first been told). Chemo will be divided into two different kinds. The first kind takes two hours per treatment, and I will go every two weeks. So, for the first half of my chemo, I will be going on Sept 22, Oct 6, Oct 20, and Nov 3, all at 10:40 a.m.
The second half of the chemo treatment is a bit stronger, will still be four treatments every two weeks, but will last four hours. (Dates for these treatments have not yet been scheduled, but they will immediately follow the first half, without breaking the every-two-weeks regemine.) Therefore, chemo will last a total of 16 weeks.
According to my pathology report, I was not "HER-II Positive," so I will NOT need the Herceptin drug for the remainder of the year as was first anticipated. That is good news, especially for my veins.
I have, at this point, chosen not to get a mediport implanted and am going to see how my veins hold up. Please pray that they stay strong. I really don't want a port. However, now that the treatments will be every two weeks instead of every three, as we'd first thought, it will be harder on my veins, with less time in between treatments for them to recover. Additionally, since I had those 19 lymph nodes removed from my right arm, I am no longer ever again able to use that arm for blood draws, blood pressure, or IV's. That gives me only my poor ol' left arm to handle the job alone. I sure hope it holds up.
So, if all goes well, it looks like all my chemo treatments will conclude around the end of December. Maybe my hair will be somewhat back by summer then!
And of course, treatments will continue with radiaion for five or six weeks on the heels of chemo. Then reconstruction ... sigh ... a lot ahead. BUT AT LEAST MY LIFE WAS SPARED!
The blood clot is still being monitored closely too, and we are praying that the blood thinners continue to do their job in keeping this life-threatening situation from getting out of hand again. I have been having to take things real easy because of this, and that's okay.
So that's today's update. Thank you all ever so much for all the prayers and the concern. I love all of you for it, and will never forget how much everyone cares. I hope I am one day able to show all of you what it has meant to me.
Till next time,
Deb
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Another doctor appointment today, this time with the oncologist. We left his office very encouraged. He plugged all the information from my pathology report into his computer and "ran the numbers," so to speak. The computer came up with a graph, specific to my case, that showed my chances of successful treatment. If I do nothing more at this point except having had the surgery (no chemo, no radiation), I have a 40% chance the cancer will return. If I do have chemo and radiation, I have only a 14% chance it will return! Pretty good odds! Bring on the treatments!
They would like to begin my chemo treatments next week, but are still trying to manage this blood clot in my lung. My INR (blood) levels have been all over the place, so they would like to wait until my levels stabilize before starting the chemo. This means pretty much daily blood draws so that levels can be monitored. I have lost count of the times I've been poked and prodded. It's a wonder I have any blood left in my body.
The oncologist I saw today (a different one in that group) seems to be in disagreement with the first oncologist I saw from that office. Today's doctor seems to think I will not need the extra 7 months of Herceptin treatments. If he's right, that would be wonderful! He is going to discuss it with the first doctor and let us know.
All in all, it was a pretty good day. Each day gets a little bit better. As of now though, the doctors seem much more concerned with the blood clot than the cancer, because, to quote my oncologist today, "THE CANCER IS GONE!" Yay! So now, I'll just stay on the blood thinners to manage the clot, begin my chemo as soon as I am able, and forge ahead.
Because I need radiation as well, my reconstruction may be delayed. Radiation has a harsh affect on skin and underlying tissue and organs. The plastic surgeon may want to let me heal real well after radiation ends before he continues with reconstruction. I don't care. The most important thing is to manage the cancer and the blood clot. Cosmetic stuff can come in due time.
Now for more thank-you's. I don't know how I will EVER be able to thank all of you for caring, for following my blog, for all the gifts, cards, emails, comments on my blog, and EVERYTHING else. I can't explain how deeply all this has touched me. I honestly didn't think so many cared; all the love and prayers and support that have come my way have been so humbling, and I am so graciously thankful to all of you, each and every one. I hope you'll continue to keep me in your prayers. I have a long way to go, so don't give up on me!
Love to all,
Deb
They would like to begin my chemo treatments next week, but are still trying to manage this blood clot in my lung. My INR (blood) levels have been all over the place, so they would like to wait until my levels stabilize before starting the chemo. This means pretty much daily blood draws so that levels can be monitored. I have lost count of the times I've been poked and prodded. It's a wonder I have any blood left in my body.
The oncologist I saw today (a different one in that group) seems to be in disagreement with the first oncologist I saw from that office. Today's doctor seems to think I will not need the extra 7 months of Herceptin treatments. If he's right, that would be wonderful! He is going to discuss it with the first doctor and let us know.
All in all, it was a pretty good day. Each day gets a little bit better. As of now though, the doctors seem much more concerned with the blood clot than the cancer, because, to quote my oncologist today, "THE CANCER IS GONE!" Yay! So now, I'll just stay on the blood thinners to manage the clot, begin my chemo as soon as I am able, and forge ahead.
Because I need radiation as well, my reconstruction may be delayed. Radiation has a harsh affect on skin and underlying tissue and organs. The plastic surgeon may want to let me heal real well after radiation ends before he continues with reconstruction. I don't care. The most important thing is to manage the cancer and the blood clot. Cosmetic stuff can come in due time.
Now for more thank-you's. I don't know how I will EVER be able to thank all of you for caring, for following my blog, for all the gifts, cards, emails, comments on my blog, and EVERYTHING else. I can't explain how deeply all this has touched me. I honestly didn't think so many cared; all the love and prayers and support that have come my way have been so humbling, and I am so graciously thankful to all of you, each and every one. I hope you'll continue to keep me in your prayers. I have a long way to go, so don't give up on me!
Love to all,
Deb
Monday, September 14, 2009
Not much of a post today. Tired. Had a doctor appointment today, will have another tomorrow. Suddenly, all I do is go to doctors. But I am not complaining -- these are the people saving my life. But I am tired though. Going to go to bed now, where I'll continue to count my blessings as I say my prayers tonight.
God bless,
Deb
God bless,
Deb
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Okay, doing pretty well today, finally. We are still trying to arrive at an appropriate Coumadin level to manage my blood clot. But in the meantime, the dose has been cut back a bit, and I feel much better.
Today was the first day I was actually able to get out and about a little. Larry took me out for a ride and out to lunch. Beautiful day, and it felt so good to get out in the fresh air on this beautiful Michigan day. But I still tire very easily, so we weren't out too long.
Saw the plastic surgeon yesterday as my reconstruction process continues (they put another fill in my tissue expander ... ouch!). The nurse told me that she was unaware that I was going to need radiation as well as the chemo. She told me that as far as reconstruction goes, "radiation is not our friend." Radiation shrinks things (such as my "microscopic spot"), and can also shrink the skin we have been working to expand. The nurse scared me to death when she told me that when the time comes, if the doctor doesn't have enough skin after my radiation treatments, he will likely have to take skin from my back. Ugh, now THAT is something I would appreciate your prayers on for sure. I sure hope that my radiation therapy doesn't shrink my skin to the point where the doc has to harvest skin from elsewhere. Gulp. Radiation is a ways down the road though, and won't begin until after my chemo is complete. I have not even started chemo as yet. So I am going to try to put the possibility of skin harvesting out of my mind for right now.
I am still working on my "wall walking" exercises to strengthen my right arm. As of now, I can't yet lift my right arm above shoulder level. The therapy they've told me to do is to stand with my arm outstretched to the wall, and "walk" up the wall with my fingers as high as I can go. And each day, I should move closer to the wall. It is very hard and it hurts; my arm is really seized up. But I am not going to give up and take the chance on my arm "sticking like that" as my muscles repair themselves.
I also have quite a bit of bruising in the surgical area. That should have been gone by now, but thanks to the Coumadin, that area is very black and blue now, covering an incision that stretches to about 10 inches. Not a very pretty picture. But it's reality.
Sleep is coming a little easier now, though it's still a challenge. I am a side-sleeper, but I can't sleep on my right (mastectomy) side (still too sore). I can't sleep on my left side because gravity causes my chest to hurt. Of course, sleeping on my stomach is out of the question. So I try to arrange my pillows in such a way that I can find comfort on my back. But I often wind up in the recliner to finish out the night.
My thanks to all who read and follow my blog. I find it such a comfort to know that people care about me and my progress. I have had some people tell me they don't know how to leave a comment. To do so, you have to click on a particular blog (by date or title) listed on the left side of the main blog page. When you click on a selected blog and scroll to the bottom of it, there is a spot there for comments, if you feel so inclined.
Well, this is my favorite evening for TV, watching the RFD Network out of Branson, Missouri (I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for Branson!). The Saturday night lineup starts with the Gaither Gospel Hour, then moves on to Crooke and Chase, followed by The Marty Stuart Show (hubba, hubba), which always includes Marty's wife, Connie Smith, one of my all-time favorites and a mentor of mine. The evening lineup has begun now and I don't want to miss one note of this treasured Southern Gospel music, which is so near and dear to my heart, having been raised on this sweet music. And if I may mention here, the honor I possess in not only knowing, but having worked for Al Brumley and family, one of my most cherished accomplishments. As I was rolled into the operating room, my heart and head were singing a classic Brumley gospel song, "Jesus Hold My Hand." And He did. Thank you, Lord!
Thank you all for your prayers. I feel so much better than I have been feeling for the past week, when I was beginning to have doubts as to whether I would EVER feel good again in my life. Your prayers and mine are being answered. THANK YOU SO MUCH!
God bless,
Deb
Today was the first day I was actually able to get out and about a little. Larry took me out for a ride and out to lunch. Beautiful day, and it felt so good to get out in the fresh air on this beautiful Michigan day. But I still tire very easily, so we weren't out too long.
Saw the plastic surgeon yesterday as my reconstruction process continues (they put another fill in my tissue expander ... ouch!). The nurse told me that she was unaware that I was going to need radiation as well as the chemo. She told me that as far as reconstruction goes, "radiation is not our friend." Radiation shrinks things (such as my "microscopic spot"), and can also shrink the skin we have been working to expand. The nurse scared me to death when she told me that when the time comes, if the doctor doesn't have enough skin after my radiation treatments, he will likely have to take skin from my back. Ugh, now THAT is something I would appreciate your prayers on for sure. I sure hope that my radiation therapy doesn't shrink my skin to the point where the doc has to harvest skin from elsewhere. Gulp. Radiation is a ways down the road though, and won't begin until after my chemo is complete. I have not even started chemo as yet. So I am going to try to put the possibility of skin harvesting out of my mind for right now.
I am still working on my "wall walking" exercises to strengthen my right arm. As of now, I can't yet lift my right arm above shoulder level. The therapy they've told me to do is to stand with my arm outstretched to the wall, and "walk" up the wall with my fingers as high as I can go. And each day, I should move closer to the wall. It is very hard and it hurts; my arm is really seized up. But I am not going to give up and take the chance on my arm "sticking like that" as my muscles repair themselves.
I also have quite a bit of bruising in the surgical area. That should have been gone by now, but thanks to the Coumadin, that area is very black and blue now, covering an incision that stretches to about 10 inches. Not a very pretty picture. But it's reality.
Sleep is coming a little easier now, though it's still a challenge. I am a side-sleeper, but I can't sleep on my right (mastectomy) side (still too sore). I can't sleep on my left side because gravity causes my chest to hurt. Of course, sleeping on my stomach is out of the question. So I try to arrange my pillows in such a way that I can find comfort on my back. But I often wind up in the recliner to finish out the night.
My thanks to all who read and follow my blog. I find it such a comfort to know that people care about me and my progress. I have had some people tell me they don't know how to leave a comment. To do so, you have to click on a particular blog (by date or title) listed on the left side of the main blog page. When you click on a selected blog and scroll to the bottom of it, there is a spot there for comments, if you feel so inclined.
Well, this is my favorite evening for TV, watching the RFD Network out of Branson, Missouri (I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for Branson!). The Saturday night lineup starts with the Gaither Gospel Hour, then moves on to Crooke and Chase, followed by The Marty Stuart Show (hubba, hubba), which always includes Marty's wife, Connie Smith, one of my all-time favorites and a mentor of mine. The evening lineup has begun now and I don't want to miss one note of this treasured Southern Gospel music, which is so near and dear to my heart, having been raised on this sweet music. And if I may mention here, the honor I possess in not only knowing, but having worked for Al Brumley and family, one of my most cherished accomplishments. As I was rolled into the operating room, my heart and head were singing a classic Brumley gospel song, "Jesus Hold My Hand." And He did. Thank you, Lord!
Thank you all for your prayers. I feel so much better than I have been feeling for the past week, when I was beginning to have doubts as to whether I would EVER feel good again in my life. Your prayers and mine are being answered. THANK YOU SO MUCH!
God bless,
Deb
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Hello all,
Feeling a little better this day. Nowhere near 100% as yet, but hoping I'll be in better shape soon. I spent Tuesday night in the emergency room again, due to lightheadedness, dizziness and nausea. With this having gone on for several days (since I was discharged from the hospital the last time), Larry finally convinced me to let him call the doctor. The doc recommended I head back to ER to be evaluated. Thankfully, they didn't admit me this time. As I suspected, they believe my Coumadin dosage is a bit too high for me. The dose has now been cut in half, I am still undergoing almost daily blood draws (on and out-patient basis), and hopefully soon, they will arrive at a dosage that's right for me. I will have to be on blood thinners now for at least 6 months, thanks to Mr. Blood Clot. If I have to face the next 6 months feeling as terrible as I have been feeling, and face the upcoming chemo on top of that, I don't know how I'll do it. Hopefully the Coumadin dosage can be successfully adjusted. Prayers, please!
Since the breast cancer diagnosis as well as the blood clot, I have had several doctors on the team to try to fix me back up again: a breast surgeon, an oncologist, a pulmonary specialist, and several doctors from each specialty. They all seemed to have differing opinions on things (i.e., whether I should have a mediport implanted to administer chemo; what my Coumadin dosage should be; whether drugs for anxiety should be increased -- hey, I wonder why I need anti-anxiety drugs?). So today, Larry took me to our family doctor, Dr. Bunney, so that he could sort it all out. Dr. Bunney agreed that my Coumadin dosage was probably out of whack, told me that my stress level was over-the-top high, and that my veins looked good enough that he felt that -- at least at this point -- I wouldn't yet need a mediport implanted, that I have had too much going on of late to face yet another surgery, especially with all the surgeries I will need to face in the future for the reconstructive process. So ...THANK YOU, DR. BUNNEY!
As I said, I am feeling a tiny bit better today, having cut my Coumadin dosage in half. Still have a headache, still pretty listless, still no appetite (I've lost nearly 15 pounds this month) and still pretty stressed about what's to come going forward. And unfortunately, I get the blues a LOT (yep, I am a total cry baby). But make no mistake, blues or no blues, my outlook remains positive, I remind myself all the time that my prognosis is good, and though I have a long road of treatment ahead (every bit of a full year), I am determined to come out of this as good as new, maybe even better. With a few new parts and a brand-new head of hair that will come back in after chemo, I might just be a new and improved me!
To those of you to whom breast cancer has hit close to home, whether it be you, or your loved one, I especially thank you for your encouragement and sincerity of good wishes. You know who you are, and I do too -- I don't forget. And your support for me is extra special. Thank you.
For the comments I see here on my blog from so many, thank you also. I am so touched by each one, and I read them over and over. They keep me going. Many, many thanks.
To my devoted husband, Larry, who continues to wait on me hand and foot, manage all my doctor appointments, drive me to and from all of them and stay by my side during each appointment and procedure, I am forever grateful, and thank God each day for the blessings He gave me in sending me such a wonderful spouse. For Larry's management of all the hospital bills that have begun to arrive, and the ensuing interaction with the insurance company, I am so grateful. I could not do this without him. I have too many blessings to count!
Most importantly, my most humble thanks to the Lord Jesus Christ, who has seen fit to spare my life not once, but TWICE this month alone. THANK YOU, LORD! And thank you too, for the freedom to still choose our health plan, so that I could have the best and most skilled care available, without delay.
Love and God Bless,
Deb
Feeling a little better this day. Nowhere near 100% as yet, but hoping I'll be in better shape soon. I spent Tuesday night in the emergency room again, due to lightheadedness, dizziness and nausea. With this having gone on for several days (since I was discharged from the hospital the last time), Larry finally convinced me to let him call the doctor. The doc recommended I head back to ER to be evaluated. Thankfully, they didn't admit me this time. As I suspected, they believe my Coumadin dosage is a bit too high for me. The dose has now been cut in half, I am still undergoing almost daily blood draws (on and out-patient basis), and hopefully soon, they will arrive at a dosage that's right for me. I will have to be on blood thinners now for at least 6 months, thanks to Mr. Blood Clot. If I have to face the next 6 months feeling as terrible as I have been feeling, and face the upcoming chemo on top of that, I don't know how I'll do it. Hopefully the Coumadin dosage can be successfully adjusted. Prayers, please!
Since the breast cancer diagnosis as well as the blood clot, I have had several doctors on the team to try to fix me back up again: a breast surgeon, an oncologist, a pulmonary specialist, and several doctors from each specialty. They all seemed to have differing opinions on things (i.e., whether I should have a mediport implanted to administer chemo; what my Coumadin dosage should be; whether drugs for anxiety should be increased -- hey, I wonder why I need anti-anxiety drugs?). So today, Larry took me to our family doctor, Dr. Bunney, so that he could sort it all out. Dr. Bunney agreed that my Coumadin dosage was probably out of whack, told me that my stress level was over-the-top high, and that my veins looked good enough that he felt that -- at least at this point -- I wouldn't yet need a mediport implanted, that I have had too much going on of late to face yet another surgery, especially with all the surgeries I will need to face in the future for the reconstructive process. So ...THANK YOU, DR. BUNNEY!
As I said, I am feeling a tiny bit better today, having cut my Coumadin dosage in half. Still have a headache, still pretty listless, still no appetite (I've lost nearly 15 pounds this month) and still pretty stressed about what's to come going forward. And unfortunately, I get the blues a LOT (yep, I am a total cry baby). But make no mistake, blues or no blues, my outlook remains positive, I remind myself all the time that my prognosis is good, and though I have a long road of treatment ahead (every bit of a full year), I am determined to come out of this as good as new, maybe even better. With a few new parts and a brand-new head of hair that will come back in after chemo, I might just be a new and improved me!
To those of you to whom breast cancer has hit close to home, whether it be you, or your loved one, I especially thank you for your encouragement and sincerity of good wishes. You know who you are, and I do too -- I don't forget. And your support for me is extra special. Thank you.
For the comments I see here on my blog from so many, thank you also. I am so touched by each one, and I read them over and over. They keep me going. Many, many thanks.
To my devoted husband, Larry, who continues to wait on me hand and foot, manage all my doctor appointments, drive me to and from all of them and stay by my side during each appointment and procedure, I am forever grateful, and thank God each day for the blessings He gave me in sending me such a wonderful spouse. For Larry's management of all the hospital bills that have begun to arrive, and the ensuing interaction with the insurance company, I am so grateful. I could not do this without him. I have too many blessings to count!
Most importantly, my most humble thanks to the Lord Jesus Christ, who has seen fit to spare my life not once, but TWICE this month alone. THANK YOU, LORD! And thank you too, for the freedom to still choose our health plan, so that I could have the best and most skilled care available, without delay.
Love and God Bless,
Deb
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Still feel VERY crummy. I am thinking my Coumadin dosage may be wrong. I am light-headed and feel feverish, even though my temp is normal. Very sluggish, listless. I was taking Tylenol to help with the pain from the mastectomy (trying to get off the Vicadin), and now I read on the 'net that Tylenol and Coumadin can cause even MORE clotting! No one told me NOT to take Tylenol while on Coumadin.
Larry has a call in to the doctor, has called twice, and we are still waiting for a call back.
Anyway, I feel very, very lousy. I'm sorry everyone, I had thought these blogs would be more upbeat. But I am just not up to much of anything.
I'll keep you posted. Hopefully, the NEXT post will bring better news from me.
Deb
Larry has a call in to the doctor, has called twice, and we are still waiting for a call back.
Anyway, I feel very, very lousy. I'm sorry everyone, I had thought these blogs would be more upbeat. But I am just not up to much of anything.
I'll keep you posted. Hopefully, the NEXT post will bring better news from me.
Deb
Monday, September 7, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
"The 3 a.m. Dog Dance"
I woke at 3 a.m. this morning to something I'd forgotten about after being in the hospital for a week: "The 3 a.m. Dog Dance."
It happens every 3 a.m. at our house with our three dogs. One starts the parade to go outside, then the others follow. Tonight, we have four dogs, baby-sitting my son's beagle for the holiday weekend. The number of dogs doesn't matter though. It's the 3 a.m. part that has always been an annoyance. Once one of them wakes up, all the others follow.
But it was different this time than it's been for the last week I spent hospitalized. I immediately noted that I was NOT awakened by my elderly, hard-of-hearing hospital roommate who suffered from dimentia, calling out for her husband at all hours through the night: "DAD?? HEY ... DAD?"
Larry escorted all four dogs to the door, single file, then let them all in again and crawled back in bed next to me, and continued snoring. I lay here in my own bed, thinking of all the other differences I note in my new perception of the The 3 a.m. Dog Dance.
It isn't my elderly roommate snoring, it's Larry.
It isn't hospital staff crashing and banging into my room to take our vitals at 3 a.m. that has wakened me from my light, restless sleep in that uncomfortable, God-awful hospital bed, it's MY DOGS!
And my own bed does NOT have an uncomfortable metal bar under my butt, no ... it's my Tempurpedic! Ahhh ...
Wait a minute here. I find myself sleeping on my left side, something I have not been able to do in a whole month. No IV! And no drains to worry about!
Now that I'm awake, I get up to use the bathroom. What's this? No IV pole to drag with me? No navigating the pole to the left around my roommate's walker, then to the right around her portable commode? No wrestling with my hosptial gown with my two bum arms (one with the IV, the other still pretty useless because of the surgery) to keep it out of the way while I ........
And hold on here. No peeing into a "hat" so that my "output" can be measured?
Back to bed now. My back feels no draft from the hospital gown. I am in my OWN PAJAMAS! I ease back into bed, less sore everyday; I hadn't noticed that before. Hmmm. Hey ... this is my first night post-surgery without a pain pill!
I fluff my pillows. MY PILLOWS, my big ol' king-sized fluffy feather pillows, NOT the tiny "pizza boxes" covered with a pillow case that the hospital calls "pillows."
Our bedroom window is open and I smell the air. THE AIR! Not the smell of the hospital! How sweet it is! (Thank you for that phrase, Jackie Gleason!)
Hear those crickets outside? Why did I never notice them before?
Everyone is snoring again now. Larry, all four dogs. I'm not annoyed. I'm actually enjoying it, well, at least, appreciating it! I'm lying here smiling, I know that!
Think I'll end this entry, settle in on my left side, enjoy like never before the things that used to annoy me, note others I had not noticed before, and THANK GOD I AM HOME! SAFE, SECURE, OUT OF DANGER FROM THE BLOT CLOT, ALIVE, and seeing the Lord's work -- as well as His reminders -- with every CLEAR breath I draw.
Yet another of so many humbling lessons I've learned on this journey so far. And I get more thankful with each one.
Okay, Lord, I got it!
Talk about sweet dreams. Goodnight.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Sept 4, 2009
YAY! I AM HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL! I got sprung early this morning.
They took very good care of me while there (Beaumont Hospital, Troy, Michigan), but still, there's no place like home! Now that this little sidetrack is behind me (I hope), I can get on with the business of continuing to heal from my surgery, and the resulting treatment ahead. All of this has sure bogged down my mind, that is for SURE. Doc said for me to take it REAL easy for awhile, that the clot was a serious thing and we can't afford anymore problems like that.
Ahhh ... I just can't WAIT to sleep in my own bed tonight! But as for now, I am sitting in my leather loveseat in the family room with my big ol' pitbull next to me; this feels pretty darn good too.
I have to admit, I'm a little skittish now. Every little ache and pain in my back makes me obsess about having another clot. But I have to remember that those hospital beds were theeeee worst I have ever tried to sleep in. They were all air filled, but very thin. My big ol' caboose pushed the air underneath it to each side, which meant my butt rested on a horrible metal bar the whole time. I ended up with a bad backache, a tingly leg and a numb butt! So I am hoping that a few nights in my own bed will make me feel calmer.
I've been getting all your good wishes, cards, emails, flowers, letters, calls ... HOW WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO THANK EVERYONE? I will though, just as soon as I am more up to it, I will thank each of you individually and personally. It means more to me than I can say to have such love and support, and I mean it when I say that that's what has gotten me through this. I could never have come even THIS far without all the love and support from ALL of you. And when I get down, as I OFTEN do, I go through and read each of the cards, which always chases the blues away.
Sigh.
That's it for now. I am so glad to be back home after a week in the hospital, that I just want to sit here and soak it all in! It's a lovely day here in Michigan, the air smells so good and the grass is so green, the sky so blue. I am in awe of how many things I took for granted for so long ...
God bless,
Deb
They took very good care of me while there (Beaumont Hospital, Troy, Michigan), but still, there's no place like home! Now that this little sidetrack is behind me (I hope), I can get on with the business of continuing to heal from my surgery, and the resulting treatment ahead. All of this has sure bogged down my mind, that is for SURE. Doc said for me to take it REAL easy for awhile, that the clot was a serious thing and we can't afford anymore problems like that.
Ahhh ... I just can't WAIT to sleep in my own bed tonight! But as for now, I am sitting in my leather loveseat in the family room with my big ol' pitbull next to me; this feels pretty darn good too.
I have to admit, I'm a little skittish now. Every little ache and pain in my back makes me obsess about having another clot. But I have to remember that those hospital beds were theeeee worst I have ever tried to sleep in. They were all air filled, but very thin. My big ol' caboose pushed the air underneath it to each side, which meant my butt rested on a horrible metal bar the whole time. I ended up with a bad backache, a tingly leg and a numb butt! So I am hoping that a few nights in my own bed will make me feel calmer.
I've been getting all your good wishes, cards, emails, flowers, letters, calls ... HOW WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO THANK EVERYONE? I will though, just as soon as I am more up to it, I will thank each of you individually and personally. It means more to me than I can say to have such love and support, and I mean it when I say that that's what has gotten me through this. I could never have come even THIS far without all the love and support from ALL of you. And when I get down, as I OFTEN do, I go through and read each of the cards, which always chases the blues away.
Sigh.
That's it for now. I am so glad to be back home after a week in the hospital, that I just want to sit here and soak it all in! It's a lovely day here in Michigan, the air smells so good and the grass is so green, the sky so blue. I am in awe of how many things I took for granted for so long ...
God bless,
Deb
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Sept 3, 2009
Still here in the hospital. The doctor said MAYBE tomorrow I can go home. But that's only a "maybe." It depends on whether my blood levels have reached a therapeutic level. I understand they are just trying to make sure I have no more problems with clots. But boy, do I EVER want to go home. I am so, so homesick.
The bed here has a sink hole right underneath my butt, and it's terribly uncomfortable. All the matresses on this (pulmonary) floor are air mattresses, which suck. The first bed I had also had a sink hole in the same spot. So I had them bring me a whole 'nuther bed, an older model, but it too, as I said, is equipped with the sink hole. My butt hurts, my left leg now tingles, my back is kinked ... ugh. How I miss my Tempurpedic!
Hospital food is the pits, but I'm getting by. Earlier in the week, I started what I call a "meatball firestorm" on my floor here. My Sweedish meatballs with brown gravy arrived. Although they are bite-sized, Larry cut them for me, only to find that they were TOTALLY RAW inside. They were not just UNDER cooked, they were not cooked at all! I told the food lady about it, she grabbed my tray, and the next thing you know, there was chaos up and down the halls with everyone hollering, "DON'T EAT THE MEATBALLS, GIVE US BACK THE MEATBALLS, THEY ARE NOT SAFE ...!" It was quite a commotion. Can you imagine those who put the entire gravy-covered meat ball in their mouth whole? YIKES. I was told later that someone really got in hot water over that mistake -- the problem included the entire hospital!
Still, as usual, in a good bit of pain from the surgery. And what a number it's done on my self image. I feel like an abomonation. I have the blues a lot.
Guess that's it for now. See? I did write a short one!
God Bless,
Deb
Still here in the hospital. The doctor said MAYBE tomorrow I can go home. But that's only a "maybe." It depends on whether my blood levels have reached a therapeutic level. I understand they are just trying to make sure I have no more problems with clots. But boy, do I EVER want to go home. I am so, so homesick.
The bed here has a sink hole right underneath my butt, and it's terribly uncomfortable. All the matresses on this (pulmonary) floor are air mattresses, which suck. The first bed I had also had a sink hole in the same spot. So I had them bring me a whole 'nuther bed, an older model, but it too, as I said, is equipped with the sink hole. My butt hurts, my left leg now tingles, my back is kinked ... ugh. How I miss my Tempurpedic!
Hospital food is the pits, but I'm getting by. Earlier in the week, I started what I call a "meatball firestorm" on my floor here. My Sweedish meatballs with brown gravy arrived. Although they are bite-sized, Larry cut them for me, only to find that they were TOTALLY RAW inside. They were not just UNDER cooked, they were not cooked at all! I told the food lady about it, she grabbed my tray, and the next thing you know, there was chaos up and down the halls with everyone hollering, "DON'T EAT THE MEATBALLS, GIVE US BACK THE MEATBALLS, THEY ARE NOT SAFE ...!" It was quite a commotion. Can you imagine those who put the entire gravy-covered meat ball in their mouth whole? YIKES. I was told later that someone really got in hot water over that mistake -- the problem included the entire hospital!
Still, as usual, in a good bit of pain from the surgery. And what a number it's done on my self image. I feel like an abomonation. I have the blues a lot.
Guess that's it for now. See? I did write a short one!
God Bless,
Deb
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Update Sept 2, 2009
Hi all,
It's Deb writing this one.
First of ALL, I want to thank my husband Larry for his last update on here. He is my angel. He has been by my side throughout this ordeal, and I don't know what I would ever do without him. I am sure testing the "in sickness and in health" vow. I will love him forever for holding my hand this whole way. He's in this for the long haul, and I will never stop thanking God for him! I wanted to say this publicly to let everyone know what a wonderful husband I have been blessed with. I love you so much, Larry, and in a whole new way.
Now to the update. I am still in the hospital for the blood clot in my lung. They are currently trying to get my Coumadin levels to a therapeutic level so I can finally go home, but as of now, it looks like I'll be here a few more days. I hate this and want to go home! But when I get the blues, I have to remember that these are the folks who literally saved my life when I came here to Emergency last Friday. I didn't know I was as critical as I was; if I HAD known, I'd probably have been in a MORE critical condition.
They believe the clot is now under control. I do know I feel a lot better in that area of my back than I did, I can breathe better, and they tell me I am now out of danger. I will however, have to be on blood thinners for the next 6 months, just to make sure no more clots form.
How did the clot get there? Two theories. One is that after the mastectomy, I was pretty sedentary. The breast surgeon was telling me to get up and move around, but the plastic surgeon told me the fastest way to get the drains out was to keep my activity and movement to a minimum. Well, I wanted those drains out! So I tried to stay still. Second theory, and this is the more likely of the two, is that malignancies thicken the blood. Although the malignancy is now gone, (praise the Lord!), my blood remained thick, causing the clot. My symptoms were that my back hurt, I had a hard time exhaling, and thought I'd slept wrong. The pulmonary specialist told me that 20,000 (yes, TWENTY THOUSAND) people each year DIE because of clots in the lung, and that like me, they just thought they'd slept wrong. ANOTHER LESSON LEARNED. Always pay attention to your body!
Back to the drains. Having had them connected to me for over 3 weeks post surgery, I couldn't WAIT to get them out. They were horrible. We did so, right after having had a CAT scan here at Beaumont, and I was so eager to get home and see what it felt like to be without those darn drains, even though I didn't feel well. As Larry mentioned, we got half way home, and both our cell phones started ringing. Larry's was my oncologist telling us that the CAT scan I'd had that morning showed the lung clot, and to get back to Beaumont ER immediately. The other call was from my family doctor (who's really not even in this loop, but since he's my primary-care doc, he had also gotten the CAT report -- I am IMPRESSED that he read it so fast and got right on it, especially for someone not even in the loop on this deal). He too was telling us to get back to Beaumont ER and "not hit any bumps on the way."
All I can say is, THANK YOU LORD. This is the second time You've saved my life in just a few short weeks.
The Breast Cancer. I am still VERY sore and weak from the surgery, feel very disfigured and butchered. It's very hard to look in the mirror. (Larry, bless his heart, tells me I am still beautiful to him.) Once I get this lung thing straightened out, I will be able to start chemotherapy and radiation, as the added insurance that the cancer beast won't return. It is still very difficult for me to type, or to use my right side at all. And now that my left hand has an IV in it, that's not of much use, either.
I have had many requests for people to come for a visit. I am so grateful for that. I count my blessings every day for the most loving family ever, and for friends who love and care. But I do have to be honest: for right now, I am just not up to visitors, either at the hospital nor at home. I no longer wear makeup or have my nails done. I am way overdue for a haircut, but with all that's been going on, I haven't had a chance to get to Great Clips. Besides, in a month, my hair will all be gone anyway. And while I know these things don't matter to you because you care so much, it is something that is hard for ME to feel comfortable with. It is still so hard for me to process all that's happened so far, and this latest lung-clot development has made it even harder. I haven't even had a chance to be out of the hospital long enough to really process ANY of these recent events. Since my mastectomy 4 weeks ago, I have had something connected to me at all times, whether it be drains or IVs. So as much as I love and appreciate all of you and your care and concern, I just feel like I would like to (someday!) get home to my own surroundings, collect myself a bit, gather my thoughts, settle in, and process this whole mess. My prayer is that I don't lose friends in requesting my alone time, and I sure hope no one takes my request for privacy personally. I know the day will come when the situation I'm in will get me down, and that my fear or lonliness will cause me to reach out to my friends and family. My prayer is that, when that finally happens, you'll still be there for me. Thank you.
One thing I will never say during this ordeal is "Why Me?" If I were to say that, it would imply that I'd rather it be someone else. And I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I'll say I hate this, that I wish it weren't happening, that I'd never gotten this. But never EVER "Why Me."
Getting tired now. It took a long time for me to peck this out with two fingers. Larry has gone home to mow, my elderly roomate is finally quiet, so maybe I'll try to sleep; sleep has been very hard to come by for such a long, long time. I love all of you, and I thank you for your love and prayers in return. I BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF PRAYER, and I am so, so blessed for all the prayers that have gone out on my behalf. I would list the number of new blessings I've counted throughout this experience so far, but this is already too long (and I said each blog would get shorter!). To list all my new blessings would make this even longer, so I'll save them for a future post.
Love and God's richest blessings to all of you,
Deb (the luckiest wife in the world)
Hi all,
It's Deb writing this one.
First of ALL, I want to thank my husband Larry for his last update on here. He is my angel. He has been by my side throughout this ordeal, and I don't know what I would ever do without him. I am sure testing the "in sickness and in health" vow. I will love him forever for holding my hand this whole way. He's in this for the long haul, and I will never stop thanking God for him! I wanted to say this publicly to let everyone know what a wonderful husband I have been blessed with. I love you so much, Larry, and in a whole new way.
Now to the update. I am still in the hospital for the blood clot in my lung. They are currently trying to get my Coumadin levels to a therapeutic level so I can finally go home, but as of now, it looks like I'll be here a few more days. I hate this and want to go home! But when I get the blues, I have to remember that these are the folks who literally saved my life when I came here to Emergency last Friday. I didn't know I was as critical as I was; if I HAD known, I'd probably have been in a MORE critical condition.
They believe the clot is now under control. I do know I feel a lot better in that area of my back than I did, I can breathe better, and they tell me I am now out of danger. I will however, have to be on blood thinners for the next 6 months, just to make sure no more clots form.
How did the clot get there? Two theories. One is that after the mastectomy, I was pretty sedentary. The breast surgeon was telling me to get up and move around, but the plastic surgeon told me the fastest way to get the drains out was to keep my activity and movement to a minimum. Well, I wanted those drains out! So I tried to stay still. Second theory, and this is the more likely of the two, is that malignancies thicken the blood. Although the malignancy is now gone, (praise the Lord!), my blood remained thick, causing the clot. My symptoms were that my back hurt, I had a hard time exhaling, and thought I'd slept wrong. The pulmonary specialist told me that 20,000 (yes, TWENTY THOUSAND) people each year DIE because of clots in the lung, and that like me, they just thought they'd slept wrong. ANOTHER LESSON LEARNED. Always pay attention to your body!
Back to the drains. Having had them connected to me for over 3 weeks post surgery, I couldn't WAIT to get them out. They were horrible. We did so, right after having had a CAT scan here at Beaumont, and I was so eager to get home and see what it felt like to be without those darn drains, even though I didn't feel well. As Larry mentioned, we got half way home, and both our cell phones started ringing. Larry's was my oncologist telling us that the CAT scan I'd had that morning showed the lung clot, and to get back to Beaumont ER immediately. The other call was from my family doctor (who's really not even in this loop, but since he's my primary-care doc, he had also gotten the CAT report -- I am IMPRESSED that he read it so fast and got right on it, especially for someone not even in the loop on this deal). He too was telling us to get back to Beaumont ER and "not hit any bumps on the way."
All I can say is, THANK YOU LORD. This is the second time You've saved my life in just a few short weeks.
The Breast Cancer. I am still VERY sore and weak from the surgery, feel very disfigured and butchered. It's very hard to look in the mirror. (Larry, bless his heart, tells me I am still beautiful to him.) Once I get this lung thing straightened out, I will be able to start chemotherapy and radiation, as the added insurance that the cancer beast won't return. It is still very difficult for me to type, or to use my right side at all. And now that my left hand has an IV in it, that's not of much use, either.
I have had many requests for people to come for a visit. I am so grateful for that. I count my blessings every day for the most loving family ever, and for friends who love and care. But I do have to be honest: for right now, I am just not up to visitors, either at the hospital nor at home. I no longer wear makeup or have my nails done. I am way overdue for a haircut, but with all that's been going on, I haven't had a chance to get to Great Clips. Besides, in a month, my hair will all be gone anyway. And while I know these things don't matter to you because you care so much, it is something that is hard for ME to feel comfortable with. It is still so hard for me to process all that's happened so far, and this latest lung-clot development has made it even harder. I haven't even had a chance to be out of the hospital long enough to really process ANY of these recent events. Since my mastectomy 4 weeks ago, I have had something connected to me at all times, whether it be drains or IVs. So as much as I love and appreciate all of you and your care and concern, I just feel like I would like to (someday!) get home to my own surroundings, collect myself a bit, gather my thoughts, settle in, and process this whole mess. My prayer is that I don't lose friends in requesting my alone time, and I sure hope no one takes my request for privacy personally. I know the day will come when the situation I'm in will get me down, and that my fear or lonliness will cause me to reach out to my friends and family. My prayer is that, when that finally happens, you'll still be there for me. Thank you.
One thing I will never say during this ordeal is "Why Me?" If I were to say that, it would imply that I'd rather it be someone else. And I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I'll say I hate this, that I wish it weren't happening, that I'd never gotten this. But never EVER "Why Me."
Getting tired now. It took a long time for me to peck this out with two fingers. Larry has gone home to mow, my elderly roomate is finally quiet, so maybe I'll try to sleep; sleep has been very hard to come by for such a long, long time. I love all of you, and I thank you for your love and prayers in return. I BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF PRAYER, and I am so, so blessed for all the prayers that have gone out on my behalf. I would list the number of new blessings I've counted throughout this experience so far, but this is already too long (and I said each blog would get shorter!). To list all my new blessings would make this even longer, so I'll save them for a future post.
Love and God's richest blessings to all of you,
Deb (the luckiest wife in the world)
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