I had my 6 month PET scan last Tuesday. I get my results on 9/3/15. It's not exactly 6 months since I went into remission but I am of the belief that my oncologist knows what he is doing so I do what I am told. If he says, "Scan" then I go have a scan. If he said, "Jump off a tall building", I would honestly give it some thought.
He's been there before. He has seen many sick patients; some older than me, some younger. Some in better overall health than me, some worse. The fact of the matter is; he put me at ease the instant met him so he calls the shots in my treatment and care.
That's a big deal coming from me because I like to be in control and I'll be honest, I gave up control last winter. I put my type A personality on the shelf...and it WORKED. I am well. I am healthy and I am gaining my strength back. I took a restorative yoga class yesterday and left it feeling energized. I am setting goals for my future. My hair is requiring about 45 seconds of work after a shower. It's the little things these days that make me happy.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Don't Stop Believing
I am a Journey fan. For the record I am a "Steve Perry is the lead sing of Journey" fan. Nothing against the gentleman the currently fronts the band..I am a purist about certain things and this is one of them.
I received Journey's Escape album for Christmas of 1981...on vinyl. For those of you reading who have never seen an album on vinyl, you're a youngster! I know every note of every song of that album. Just about every song evokes memories of my teenage years. My dream game show appearance would be Name That Tune, The Journey Edition.
In 2005 my White Sox won the World Series and Don't Stop Believing was a locker room staple for the team. As a lifelong Sox fan, I have suffered through many terrible seasons but 2005...it was magic. The team tried to give the title away before the playoffs but the team didn't stop believing and as September 2005 came to a close, I swooped into the playoffs with my team and a handful of additional gray hairs!
Flash forward to January of 2015...after my diagnosis, I decided to go into my office and share the news with coworkers in person as opposed to emailing my news. I have been with my company for almost 13 years and an email just didn't feel right. I had slightly more energy on Monday January 19th when I got up to go to work. The Zofran had allowed my appetite to return some and I was sleeping better with the help of Advil PM.
I don't remember many of the things that took place in the early days after my diagnosis but the memory of climbing into my car that morning is as vivid as if it happened yesterday. I started my car and the radio came on. I have no idea what station was on...
"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world..."
I sing with the radio...I will admit it freely. If I had a dime for every person that has busted me singing in my car, I could have retired in my 20s. I broke into song that morning. I was a member of Journey that morning.
"Working hard to get my fill...everybody wants a thrill."
"No, the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on."
In those moments in the arena in my mind sing with everything I had, I knew I was going to be OK. Don't Stop Believing became my mantra. I believed I was going to feel better, I believed that my doctors knew what to do, I believed in myself...I believed I was going to be OK...I BELIEVED I WAS GOING TO KICK CANCER'S ASS.
Don't stop believing, hold onto that feeling.
I received Journey's Escape album for Christmas of 1981...on vinyl. For those of you reading who have never seen an album on vinyl, you're a youngster! I know every note of every song of that album. Just about every song evokes memories of my teenage years. My dream game show appearance would be Name That Tune, The Journey Edition.
In 2005 my White Sox won the World Series and Don't Stop Believing was a locker room staple for the team. As a lifelong Sox fan, I have suffered through many terrible seasons but 2005...it was magic. The team tried to give the title away before the playoffs but the team didn't stop believing and as September 2005 came to a close, I swooped into the playoffs with my team and a handful of additional gray hairs!
Flash forward to January of 2015...after my diagnosis, I decided to go into my office and share the news with coworkers in person as opposed to emailing my news. I have been with my company for almost 13 years and an email just didn't feel right. I had slightly more energy on Monday January 19th when I got up to go to work. The Zofran had allowed my appetite to return some and I was sleeping better with the help of Advil PM.
I don't remember many of the things that took place in the early days after my diagnosis but the memory of climbing into my car that morning is as vivid as if it happened yesterday. I started my car and the radio came on. I have no idea what station was on...
"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world..."
I sing with the radio...I will admit it freely. If I had a dime for every person that has busted me singing in my car, I could have retired in my 20s. I broke into song that morning. I was a member of Journey that morning.
"Working hard to get my fill...everybody wants a thrill."
"No, the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on."
In those moments in the arena in my mind sing with everything I had, I knew I was going to be OK. Don't Stop Believing became my mantra. I believed I was going to feel better, I believed that my doctors knew what to do, I believed in myself...I believed I was going to be OK...I BELIEVED I WAS GOING TO KICK CANCER'S ASS.
Don't stop believing, hold onto that feeling.
I wore that charm at every chemo treatment. I have a bracelet with those words engraved on it. I know the lyrics of the song by heart and they will always hold a special place in my heart.
Don't Stop Believing!!
Monday, August 3, 2015
A Tale of Two Minds
So, I just scheduled my 6 month PET scan for 8/25 and I am immediately filled with dread. I am not sure why...I feel great. My hair is filling in, I am getting to the gym on a regular basis, I have started some weight training, making some plans for the distant future (read 2016). I cannot blame Peggy (the registrar in the radiology dept); she's not scary in the least. My blood pressure is lower, work has not been particularly stressful, the summer with the kids was fun albeit short. Somehow I cannot get rid of the feeling that the other shoe is going to drop...then the rational mind takes over.
I am not schizophrenic but I do possess two separate and distinct minds.
The rational one, that is militant about planning things and being organized, fairly strict about diet and meal planning, and always in pursuit of something fun to do.
Then there is irrational one.
The irrational one has played a larger part in my life this year. The irrational one raced when I couldn't sleep because of the prednisone. The irrational one thought I had the flu or needed my gall bladder removed when in fact Lymphoma was raging away in my body.
I allowed my irrational mind in a few times after my diagnosis and during treatment and it always wanted to stay. I did my best to make sure it didn't get the chance to unpack and get comfortable. I often found myself literally thinking, "Go away!" whenever I started to wallow or get scared that I wasn't kicking cancer's ass!
Rational knew I was winning the battle; it knew I was getting stronger. Irrational knew I had a pretty good life and wanted to be a part of it. Thankfully Rational is wise and Irrational did wear out its welcome.
I am guessing anyone who has waged a health battle understands my post while those who have not, think I am slightly crazy and I might be but it has little to do with having two separate minds. LOL
I guess what I am trying to say is that it's OK. I didn't get a playbook with Lymphoma and there were days it was scary. There were also days that were jubilant, fulfilling and yes, even fun. It's OK to fear the results of a test 6 months removed but I am a warrior so I am going to stomp the fear into a tiny bit of concern and when I sit down with my oncologist in early September, I am going to hear the results that I fight for daily and then maybe, Irrational will take an extended vacation.
XOXO
I am not schizophrenic but I do possess two separate and distinct minds.
The rational one, that is militant about planning things and being organized, fairly strict about diet and meal planning, and always in pursuit of something fun to do.
Then there is irrational one.
The irrational one has played a larger part in my life this year. The irrational one raced when I couldn't sleep because of the prednisone. The irrational one thought I had the flu or needed my gall bladder removed when in fact Lymphoma was raging away in my body.
I allowed my irrational mind in a few times after my diagnosis and during treatment and it always wanted to stay. I did my best to make sure it didn't get the chance to unpack and get comfortable. I often found myself literally thinking, "Go away!" whenever I started to wallow or get scared that I wasn't kicking cancer's ass!
Rational knew I was winning the battle; it knew I was getting stronger. Irrational knew I had a pretty good life and wanted to be a part of it. Thankfully Rational is wise and Irrational did wear out its welcome.
I am guessing anyone who has waged a health battle understands my post while those who have not, think I am slightly crazy and I might be but it has little to do with having two separate minds. LOL
I guess what I am trying to say is that it's OK. I didn't get a playbook with Lymphoma and there were days it was scary. There were also days that were jubilant, fulfilling and yes, even fun. It's OK to fear the results of a test 6 months removed but I am a warrior so I am going to stomp the fear into a tiny bit of concern and when I sit down with my oncologist in early September, I am going to hear the results that I fight for daily and then maybe, Irrational will take an extended vacation.
XOXO
Sunday, July 5, 2015
4th of July
The 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays. I live in a suburb of Chicago but during the summer if feels like I live in Mayberry. See The Andy Griffith Show for a proper reference. I am less than 8 miles from downtown Chicago but on a summer day when the ice cream man comes down the street, I feel like I am about as far from city living as I can get.
When we were kids, the 4th of July weekend was always tons of fun..and make no mistake, it didn't matter if the actual holiday was on a weekend or if it was a Tuesday...the 4th of July is ALWAYS part of a weekend.
This year's 4th holds special meaning to me...I am so happy to be here. I have been off since Thursday and I don't go back to work until next Thursday.
From a recovery standpoint, my hair is growing back...in fact, it looks like my scalp is dirty...or sparkly depending where you look. There is a lot of gray on my head....I am not sure when I will be able to color my hair again but it will be soon. The gray needs to go,
Yesterday started with the parade. I have been going to a parade since I was a small child and Elmwood Park was my grandparents neighborhood. Both of my parents grew up in this sleepy suburb but I didn't call it home until 1976; our nation's bicentennial.
The 4th of July to me is about friendship and family. Each year I meet up with friends that I have know since we were children and now our children attend the parade with us.
In the 25 years since my Dad passed, the 4th has been bittersweet. This year though was definitely more sweet. I have my health back, I spent the day with good friends and family and it was FUN! 2015 may have started in a bad place but it is definitely on the way up.
Enjoy life...you never know what life has in store for you.
When we were kids, the 4th of July weekend was always tons of fun..and make no mistake, it didn't matter if the actual holiday was on a weekend or if it was a Tuesday...the 4th of July is ALWAYS part of a weekend.
This year's 4th holds special meaning to me...I am so happy to be here. I have been off since Thursday and I don't go back to work until next Thursday.
From a recovery standpoint, my hair is growing back...in fact, it looks like my scalp is dirty...or sparkly depending where you look. There is a lot of gray on my head....I am not sure when I will be able to color my hair again but it will be soon. The gray needs to go,
Yesterday started with the parade. I have been going to a parade since I was a small child and Elmwood Park was my grandparents neighborhood. Both of my parents grew up in this sleepy suburb but I didn't call it home until 1976; our nation's bicentennial.
The 4th of July to me is about friendship and family. Each year I meet up with friends that I have know since we were children and now our children attend the parade with us.
In the 25 years since my Dad passed, the 4th has been bittersweet. This year though was definitely more sweet. I have my health back, I spent the day with good friends and family and it was FUN! 2015 may have started in a bad place but it is definitely on the way up.
Enjoy life...you never know what life has in store for you.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Perspective
I've learned a lot about perspective since January.
Perspective: a way of regarding situations, facts, etc. and determining their relative importance.
I used to think that life was too short to be anything but happy. Let me tell you, hearing a surprise Cancer diagnosis makes that statement ring true in spades. I thought I was happy, and I was but I wonder now how much I appreciated my life.
Think about what is important to you. When you get that list in your mind, what is on there that you can live without? How would you prioritize the list? What gets pushed to the side when things get rough?
My diagnosis changed EVERYTHING. From small things like my sleep patterns to larger things like how I handle stress. I have said before that I took my good health for granted. Never again.
For many weeks I had to abandon my normal patterns of eating carefully and eat to gain weight....WHAT??? No one has ever told me to work on GAINING weight. It was as if my oncologist was speaking a foreign language. It scared me a bit because I had fought so hard to lose weight over the years. I also had no energy at the time to exercise which added to the fear. Luckily, after one treatment, I started feeling a bit better and could ease into light exercise. Looking back, it wasn't that hard to do what I needed to do to get better.
Another thing I learned is that EVERYONE is fighting a battle so I am lot less judgmental. Well, I am lot less vocal in my judgements...no one is perfect. ;-) In all seriousness, though, everyone fights a battle...maybe it's weight, maybe it's an emotional issue, maybe it's cancer, maybe it's none of my business what someone else is battling but it's important to know that we all have our battles.
I rewarded myself for the small victories along the way in my journey. A reward doesn't have to be a material thing; early on my rewards were some new yoga practices. I am a member of yogadownload.com and it was a lifesaver during my journey. Meditating helped to keep my mind focused on getting better over dwelling on what was wrong with me. I also found a couple of practices geared toward people battling cancer and survivors. They made me feel empowered. Yoga has often made me feel like I can take on the world...if I can take on the world, cancer was going to be no big deal.
I learned to be easier on myself. All my life I have been my own worst critic. Now, I give myself some slack regularly. I am admitting that I have limitations and that's OK. I have learned that I have an amazing network of family and friends. I have learned that I have touched a lot of people in my life. I have learned to ASK for help when I need it. I think that was tougher than learning I had cancer!!
My journey has made me want to give back. I am trying to figure out what that is going to entail for me. My sister created a Relay for Life team and a couple of weeks ago we walked Relay for 6 hours and raised over $2500.00 for the American Cancer Society. I am thinking about finding a local support group...not only for support for myself but I might be able to help others who might be struggling with a diagnosis or treatment or whatever...sometimes it's just nice to know you're not alone.
I look at everything a little differently now. I appreciate every sunrise even though I sleep through a lot of them these days. I appreciate the sunshine, the rain (although we could go a few days without it!)...the dragonflys, the flowers. I appreciate the people in my life who reached out while I was in treatment...I probably haven't said that enough. I am going to say it more. I don't think I will ever say that a cancer diagnosis is the best thing that ever happened to me but I am determined to be changed because of it.
Perspective: a way of regarding situations, facts, etc. and determining their relative importance.
I used to think that life was too short to be anything but happy. Let me tell you, hearing a surprise Cancer diagnosis makes that statement ring true in spades. I thought I was happy, and I was but I wonder now how much I appreciated my life.
Think about what is important to you. When you get that list in your mind, what is on there that you can live without? How would you prioritize the list? What gets pushed to the side when things get rough?
My diagnosis changed EVERYTHING. From small things like my sleep patterns to larger things like how I handle stress. I have said before that I took my good health for granted. Never again.
For many weeks I had to abandon my normal patterns of eating carefully and eat to gain weight....WHAT??? No one has ever told me to work on GAINING weight. It was as if my oncologist was speaking a foreign language. It scared me a bit because I had fought so hard to lose weight over the years. I also had no energy at the time to exercise which added to the fear. Luckily, after one treatment, I started feeling a bit better and could ease into light exercise. Looking back, it wasn't that hard to do what I needed to do to get better.
Another thing I learned is that EVERYONE is fighting a battle so I am lot less judgmental. Well, I am lot less vocal in my judgements...no one is perfect. ;-) In all seriousness, though, everyone fights a battle...maybe it's weight, maybe it's an emotional issue, maybe it's cancer, maybe it's none of my business what someone else is battling but it's important to know that we all have our battles.
I rewarded myself for the small victories along the way in my journey. A reward doesn't have to be a material thing; early on my rewards were some new yoga practices. I am a member of yogadownload.com and it was a lifesaver during my journey. Meditating helped to keep my mind focused on getting better over dwelling on what was wrong with me. I also found a couple of practices geared toward people battling cancer and survivors. They made me feel empowered. Yoga has often made me feel like I can take on the world...if I can take on the world, cancer was going to be no big deal.
I learned to be easier on myself. All my life I have been my own worst critic. Now, I give myself some slack regularly. I am admitting that I have limitations and that's OK. I have learned that I have an amazing network of family and friends. I have learned that I have touched a lot of people in my life. I have learned to ASK for help when I need it. I think that was tougher than learning I had cancer!!
My journey has made me want to give back. I am trying to figure out what that is going to entail for me. My sister created a Relay for Life team and a couple of weeks ago we walked Relay for 6 hours and raised over $2500.00 for the American Cancer Society. I am thinking about finding a local support group...not only for support for myself but I might be able to help others who might be struggling with a diagnosis or treatment or whatever...sometimes it's just nice to know you're not alone.
I look at everything a little differently now. I appreciate every sunrise even though I sleep through a lot of them these days. I appreciate the sunshine, the rain (although we could go a few days without it!)...the dragonflys, the flowers. I appreciate the people in my life who reached out while I was in treatment...I probably haven't said that enough. I am going to say it more. I don't think I will ever say that a cancer diagnosis is the best thing that ever happened to me but I am determined to be changed because of it.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Introducing Chris Wick
For those reading this that do not know me, Chris is my husband. He stood by me through what I refer to as the Little Health Adventure of 2015. He is the reason for a lot of my laughter over the last several months and was quick with a hug or a tissue during the tears.
I can say with utmost certainty that I have no idea where I would be without him. I truly believe that right after my diagnosis, he sat by and watched me sleep...whether it was as I napped on the couch in our family room or at night in bed. I am not sure he slept at all. I slept, that I know for sure. At the beginning, that's really all I did.
For a little background information, Chris and I met 10 years ago through the magic of the internet. We had both been married before and it did not work out well. From the day we met, it was just easy. We just kind of fit but honestly, outside of losing my mother in law last summer, we hadn't endured anything too difficult; until January.
Chris also lost his best friend the week of my diagnosis. I don't feel like I have been truly supportive of him in his loss but a day hasn't gone by when I haven't prayed that he find peace.
I remember vividly in the ER Chris explaining to the doctors that in 6 months he had lost his Mother and his best friend and he was NOT going to lose his wife too. If his will had been all I needed to be cured, I would have been cured in one day. While I never felt like I was going to die, I did have my doubts about ever being well again. Chris was sure that I would be. and some days, his assurances are what kept me going.
It is my hope that if Chris ever suffers from an illness, that I can be half as supportive as we was to me...
Love you honey!
Monday, May 25, 2015
Get a Second Opinion
I have heard and read many places that when you get a big diagnosis you should get a second opinion. I didn't do that. I look at it this way, I had no fewer than 4 different doctors come into the room I was in down in the emergency dept of Resurrection Hospital tell me I had cancer before they had scanned me for the second time in a week. Heck, one made Doogie Houser look old. I was counting each one as a separate opinion.
My GP had given me her suspicions along with paperwork when I left her office on 1.16.15 and promised to put me in touch with an oncologist "that I would love". Well, Doc, I've gone through 47 years of my life without an oncologist...I am not sure I really need one...can't I just get a shot or some stitches and call it a day?
Don't get me wrong, everyone was super nice to me while in the emergency room and while I had the CT with contrast and up on the cancer ward but I didn't belong there, I wasn't sick. Actually I was. I was very sick but we'll get to that later.
I spent the night of 1.16.15 in the hospital. I am honestly not sure how people get well in the hospital. I was placed in inflatable leg wraps to guard against blood clots...blot clots?!?!? Why is this an issue? When I got to the hospital, I didn't have cancer, high blood pressure and blood clots!!! OK, I had cancer, but I most certainly DID NOT have high blood pressure and blood clots. OK, the cancer diagnosis probably brought on the high blood pressure. See, you spend time in the hospital and your good health goes right out the window.
Have you ever experienced something scary and your mind races...I felt like my brain was qualifying for the Daytona 500...throttle wide open. Funny, I could barely create a coherent thought, everything was just flying around in my brain aimlessly.
I was hooked to a BP monitor that took my BP every 15 minutes. My leg wraps inflated and deflated every 5 minutes. Nurses came in periodically...telling me to rest. REST?!?!? It was like a three ring circus in my room!! I had sent my husband home to get some clothes, electronic devices, comforts from home and FOOD. After several hours on Zofran, I felt like trying some food again. While he was gone, several nurses and nurse's assistants came in...introducing themselves, trying to make me comfortable, and monitoring my every move. I am not used to having so much scrutiny...more than one nurse asked if I was able to walk to the restroom. Hello!!! I had driven myself to the ER!!! When I think back to that night, I shake my head now and I can laugh about it. Truthfully, I have never been so scared.
Saturday morning dawned...after I had gotten about 3 hours of sleep. I asked my nurse if I could put on regular clothes...hospital gowns are not my favorite. She reluctantly OK'd my request. I ordered breakfast...still felt like food. After breakfast, I asked if I could get up and roam around...my nurse again reluctantly agreed. I started walking laps on the floor. After the first lap, I realized I was the youngest person on the ward (by 20 years) and I was the healthiest person on the ward as well. Maybe, everyone was reading the scans wrong and I really didn't belong there. I was on my third or fourth lap when I saw my nurse looking around the ward...turns out she was looking for me. I needed to go for a biopsy...back into the hospital gown, onto a gurney and off on a ride through the hospital.
Several people had been called into the hospital on this Saturday to do my biopsy; one to take the tissue and one to do a preliminary read. I will never be able to say enough about the people I have dealt with at Resurrection Hospital in Chicago. Every step of the process was explained to me as we went along. No one pulled punches, if it was going to hurt, I was warned. I think the one doctor sensed how scared I was and really took time explaining what he was doing. It helped a ton. The worst part of the biopsy process was laying on the hard table with the back pain I had. Thankfully, about the time it became unbearable, we were done.
Back on the gurney and back up to my room.
By this time, Mom, my sister and my hubby had arrived. My nurse was practically gleeful at the fact that I needed to spend a couple of hours in bed to make sure the puncture wound in my back from the biopsy stopped bleeding. I had ordered a grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch and ate it while we visited.
Shortly after finishing lunch my attending physician came in to check on me and asked if I had seen Dr. Karides yet. I hadn't and she left to track him down. A few minutes later, he walked into my room and said ,"I hear you have cancer.". I responded with , "And apparently high blood pressure as well". Dr. Karides was the ONLY doctor who acknowledged the fact that perhaps the diagnosis had brought on the high BP!!! Yes, he and I were going to get along just fine. He handed me his card which had an appointment date and time on it. He said he would see me on Tues and we would get going on my treatment. By then he would have my biopsy and would be preparing my course of treatment. I asked him if I was going to die and he told me eventually but not any time soon. I asked if I could go home. He saw no reason why I needed to stay in the hospital...he knew I wasn't getting any rest there so he got my attending back, and I got release papers and some meds...I got my very own supply of Zofran along with some ridiculously strong pain killers which I have never taken...I complain a lot here about the back pain and while at times it was unbearable, it always responded to regular OTC meds your garden variety Advil or Tylenol. Oh yeah and high blood pressure meds. *sigh*
As you read my story, you will discover, if you haven't already, I am a type A control freak. When your BP is ALWAYS 118/76 you take offense at being told you have high blood pressure and having to take meds for it. I can tell you that I have gotten over it and continue to take the meds. I learned very early in this journey that I am the novice here. This was new to me only. The doctors, nurses, and techs...hell even the receptionists knew more about what was going on with me and what my future was going to hold than I did. The last thing that Dr. Karides said to me in my hospital room was that attitude was more than half my battle. I was going to beat this so I was going to follow instructions to the letter..,I was going to fight with everything I had...failure was not an option.
My GP had given me her suspicions along with paperwork when I left her office on 1.16.15 and promised to put me in touch with an oncologist "that I would love". Well, Doc, I've gone through 47 years of my life without an oncologist...I am not sure I really need one...can't I just get a shot or some stitches and call it a day?
Don't get me wrong, everyone was super nice to me while in the emergency room and while I had the CT with contrast and up on the cancer ward but I didn't belong there, I wasn't sick. Actually I was. I was very sick but we'll get to that later.
I spent the night of 1.16.15 in the hospital. I am honestly not sure how people get well in the hospital. I was placed in inflatable leg wraps to guard against blood clots...blot clots?!?!? Why is this an issue? When I got to the hospital, I didn't have cancer, high blood pressure and blood clots!!! OK, I had cancer, but I most certainly DID NOT have high blood pressure and blood clots. OK, the cancer diagnosis probably brought on the high blood pressure. See, you spend time in the hospital and your good health goes right out the window.
Have you ever experienced something scary and your mind races...I felt like my brain was qualifying for the Daytona 500...throttle wide open. Funny, I could barely create a coherent thought, everything was just flying around in my brain aimlessly.
I was hooked to a BP monitor that took my BP every 15 minutes. My leg wraps inflated and deflated every 5 minutes. Nurses came in periodically...telling me to rest. REST?!?!? It was like a three ring circus in my room!! I had sent my husband home to get some clothes, electronic devices, comforts from home and FOOD. After several hours on Zofran, I felt like trying some food again. While he was gone, several nurses and nurse's assistants came in...introducing themselves, trying to make me comfortable, and monitoring my every move. I am not used to having so much scrutiny...more than one nurse asked if I was able to walk to the restroom. Hello!!! I had driven myself to the ER!!! When I think back to that night, I shake my head now and I can laugh about it. Truthfully, I have never been so scared.
Saturday morning dawned...after I had gotten about 3 hours of sleep. I asked my nurse if I could put on regular clothes...hospital gowns are not my favorite. She reluctantly OK'd my request. I ordered breakfast...still felt like food. After breakfast, I asked if I could get up and roam around...my nurse again reluctantly agreed. I started walking laps on the floor. After the first lap, I realized I was the youngest person on the ward (by 20 years) and I was the healthiest person on the ward as well. Maybe, everyone was reading the scans wrong and I really didn't belong there. I was on my third or fourth lap when I saw my nurse looking around the ward...turns out she was looking for me. I needed to go for a biopsy...back into the hospital gown, onto a gurney and off on a ride through the hospital.
Several people had been called into the hospital on this Saturday to do my biopsy; one to take the tissue and one to do a preliminary read. I will never be able to say enough about the people I have dealt with at Resurrection Hospital in Chicago. Every step of the process was explained to me as we went along. No one pulled punches, if it was going to hurt, I was warned. I think the one doctor sensed how scared I was and really took time explaining what he was doing. It helped a ton. The worst part of the biopsy process was laying on the hard table with the back pain I had. Thankfully, about the time it became unbearable, we were done.
Back on the gurney and back up to my room.
By this time, Mom, my sister and my hubby had arrived. My nurse was practically gleeful at the fact that I needed to spend a couple of hours in bed to make sure the puncture wound in my back from the biopsy stopped bleeding. I had ordered a grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch and ate it while we visited.
Shortly after finishing lunch my attending physician came in to check on me and asked if I had seen Dr. Karides yet. I hadn't and she left to track him down. A few minutes later, he walked into my room and said ,"I hear you have cancer.". I responded with , "And apparently high blood pressure as well". Dr. Karides was the ONLY doctor who acknowledged the fact that perhaps the diagnosis had brought on the high BP!!! Yes, he and I were going to get along just fine. He handed me his card which had an appointment date and time on it. He said he would see me on Tues and we would get going on my treatment. By then he would have my biopsy and would be preparing my course of treatment. I asked him if I was going to die and he told me eventually but not any time soon. I asked if I could go home. He saw no reason why I needed to stay in the hospital...he knew I wasn't getting any rest there so he got my attending back, and I got release papers and some meds...I got my very own supply of Zofran along with some ridiculously strong pain killers which I have never taken...I complain a lot here about the back pain and while at times it was unbearable, it always responded to regular OTC meds your garden variety Advil or Tylenol. Oh yeah and high blood pressure meds. *sigh*
As you read my story, you will discover, if you haven't already, I am a type A control freak. When your BP is ALWAYS 118/76 you take offense at being told you have high blood pressure and having to take meds for it. I can tell you that I have gotten over it and continue to take the meds. I learned very early in this journey that I am the novice here. This was new to me only. The doctors, nurses, and techs...hell even the receptionists knew more about what was going on with me and what my future was going to hold than I did. The last thing that Dr. Karides said to me in my hospital room was that attitude was more than half my battle. I was going to beat this so I was going to follow instructions to the letter..,I was going to fight with everything I had...failure was not an option.
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