Looks like I'm getting an early Christmas present from the hospital -- my Jan. 2 surgery has been moved to Monday, Jan. 5! So that means I'm getting ONE MORE WEEKEND to live it up! Woo-hoo! (Note to self: Get to store and buy more wine.)
The change was necessary because the hospital will be pretty much "shut down," except for emergencies, because of the New Year's holidays. Good thing they let me know. It might have been a little embarrassing to be banging on the hospital door, "Helloooo, I'm here ..."
They told me to be there at 8 a.m., and said the actual surgery will begin around 10:30. I'll probably be coming out of anesthesia sometime in the afternoon, so I'll ask my "pinch blog-writer" to update this site that day.
In related news, remember how my left pelvic lymph node tested positive for cancer, so I was going to get my right one biopsied? Well, I went to the hospital last week for the test, but didn't get it. The techs and several doctors could barely find the right node on the ultrasound, and when they did, it was tiny (about one-third the size of an M&M, they said) and looked normal. As it was explained to me, they could try to stick a needle into it and draw out cells, but even if the biopsy was negative, that wouldn't necessarily mean there was no cancer -- it could just mean that they missed the cancer.
So we collectively decided not to bother with the biopsy. To be safe, the right node will be removed, along with the left one, just as my surgeons originally wanted to do.
Until next time ...
P
Monday, December 22, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
I feel fine. Really
Just about everybody I see nowadays who knows about my cancer treatment (especially my mother and sister) wants to know: "How are you feeling?" Thankfully, I'm feeling fine. Normal. Like I'm not even sick.
Which makes the prospect of upcoming surgery a real bummer. I keep thinking, "Why do I have to have an operation when I feel FINE?" And I know for a fact that after that surgery I will NOT feel fine. At least for a while.
I'm still eating (probably too much). Still walking a mile or two a day (probably not enough). Still doing "real life" stuff, like filling the gas tank and doing laundry and cleaning litter boxes.
But it's funny. As I'm doing chores, or eating out with friends (are you happy, Janine?), or decorating for Christmas, or driving to work, or whatever, I keep thinking that it's really nice to be able to do these things. Normally. Pain- and hassle-free. And so I'm seeing them from a new perspective. With new, more-appreciative eyes. Pre-surgery eyes. Life is good. And I'm feeling fine. Really.
Until next time ...
P
Which makes the prospect of upcoming surgery a real bummer. I keep thinking, "Why do I have to have an operation when I feel FINE?" And I know for a fact that after that surgery I will NOT feel fine. At least for a while.
I'm still eating (probably too much). Still walking a mile or two a day (probably not enough). Still doing "real life" stuff, like filling the gas tank and doing laundry and cleaning litter boxes.
But it's funny. As I'm doing chores, or eating out with friends (are you happy, Janine?), or decorating for Christmas, or driving to work, or whatever, I keep thinking that it's really nice to be able to do these things. Normally. Pain- and hassle-free. And so I'm seeing them from a new perspective. With new, more-appreciative eyes. Pre-surgery eyes. Life is good. And I'm feeling fine. Really.
Until next time ...
P
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
The 'Happy New Year' surgery
My surgery is scheduled for Friday, Jan. 2, at 7:30 a.m., at Barnes-Jewish West County Hospital on Olive Blvd. I'm happy my Christmas and New Year's Eve celebrations will be undisturbed, but, man, I'm sure hoping those doctors don't like to party!
The surgery will involve two surgeons -- one for the tumor, and another who's a specialist in removing pelvic-area lymph nodes. My left lymph node tested positive for cancer, so they're going to check the right with a needle biopsy sometime before the operation. The plan is to remove whichever lymph nodes are cancerous.
I'll be in the hospital probably a week or so, but I'll make sure to designate a "pinch blog-writer" to update this site while I'm out of commission. (I can see it now: "Paula sure sleeps a lot." "Paula is cranky." "Paula thinks the whole world revolves around HER!") At this point, I'm not sure when I'll be back in the office -- it all depends on how fast I heal and whether or not there are any complications. But, "February sometime" is a safe bet.
So, keep those prayers coming -- especially on Jan. 2!
Until next time ...
P
The surgery will involve two surgeons -- one for the tumor, and another who's a specialist in removing pelvic-area lymph nodes. My left lymph node tested positive for cancer, so they're going to check the right with a needle biopsy sometime before the operation. The plan is to remove whichever lymph nodes are cancerous.
I'll be in the hospital probably a week or so, but I'll make sure to designate a "pinch blog-writer" to update this site while I'm out of commission. (I can see it now: "Paula sure sleeps a lot." "Paula is cranky." "Paula thinks the whole world revolves around HER!") At this point, I'm not sure when I'll be back in the office -- it all depends on how fast I heal and whether or not there are any complications. But, "February sometime" is a safe bet.
So, keep those prayers coming -- especially on Jan. 2!
Until next time ...
P
Monday, December 8, 2008
Treatment so far
Right after I was diagnosed, the doctor ordered a colonoscopy, chest x-ray and CT scan, to see if the cancer had spread. All were clear, thank God. My treatment at Barnes-Jewish Hospital to date has been five weeks of radiation and chemotherapy, completed Oct. 16. I got the radiation Monday through Friday, and the chemo 24/7 -- I wore a little "fanny pack" around my waist that contained a battery-operated pump and a little bag of chemo that was changed weekly. I've got a "port" in my chest that the chemo tubing was plugged into, and really, that port doesn't bother me at all. Wish I could say the same for the chemo!
While I didn't lose my hair, the last two weeks of treatment were pretty rough. My most debilitating side effect was chemo-induced mouth sores -- nickel-sized open sores on the roof of my mouth and top of my throat that made eating and drinking (even water!) pure torture. My oncologist looked at them and said, "Well, they're bad, but I've seen worse, and we're not stopping the chemo." So I got a "magic mouthwash" that numbed my mouth for, like, 10 minutes, just long enough to eat. But you could only use it once every 3 or 4 hours -- what a gimmick!
Anyway, eating became such a hassle that I lost about 15 pounds -- not a diet I recommend! But I'm happy to report that I've gained at least 10 back! Three days after I stopped the chemo, I started eating "real food" again (I'd been living on soft foods like oatmeal, chicken-noodle soup and Ensure) and believe me, since then I've made up for lost calories in a big way!
Thanks for visiting!
Until next time ...
P
While I didn't lose my hair, the last two weeks of treatment were pretty rough. My most debilitating side effect was chemo-induced mouth sores -- nickel-sized open sores on the roof of my mouth and top of my throat that made eating and drinking (even water!) pure torture. My oncologist looked at them and said, "Well, they're bad, but I've seen worse, and we're not stopping the chemo." So I got a "magic mouthwash" that numbed my mouth for, like, 10 minutes, just long enough to eat. But you could only use it once every 3 or 4 hours -- what a gimmick!
Anyway, eating became such a hassle that I lost about 15 pounds -- not a diet I recommend! But I'm happy to report that I've gained at least 10 back! Three days after I stopped the chemo, I started eating "real food" again (I'd been living on soft foods like oatmeal, chicken-noodle soup and Ensure) and believe me, since then I've made up for lost calories in a big way!
Thanks for visiting!
Until next time ...
P
Friday, December 5, 2008
The unveiling of the blog
So, yeah, it took getting cancer to get me to start a "blog." But here it is, entry numero uno, so welcome to "Paula's Temporary Setback," which is how I'm referring to this illness, as I fully intend to kick this and be better than ever once I get it all behind me (pun intended).
I was diagnosed with anal cancer July 29, 2008, and my first thought was, "Gee, I've always been so anal about my health, but apparently not anal enough!" Seriously, I'm the original hypochondriac, with my doctors on speed dial and consulted on a regular basis for every little thing. (Whenever I couldn't get through, my Psycho Sister would say, "They've got caller ID and know it's YOU so they're not answering!") But now I've got this pretty big thing to deal with, so all that hypochondriacking finally paid off, I guess.
Anyway, I'd love it if you would tag along with me on this little jaunt -- the more, the merrier, right?
Until next time ...
P
I was diagnosed with anal cancer July 29, 2008, and my first thought was, "Gee, I've always been so anal about my health, but apparently not anal enough!" Seriously, I'm the original hypochondriac, with my doctors on speed dial and consulted on a regular basis for every little thing. (Whenever I couldn't get through, my Psycho Sister would say, "They've got caller ID and know it's YOU so they're not answering!") But now I've got this pretty big thing to deal with, so all that hypochondriacking finally paid off, I guess.
Anyway, I'd love it if you would tag along with me on this little jaunt -- the more, the merrier, right?
Until next time ...
P
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