So, I saw my oncologist yesterday and got some details on the post-op treatment. Beginning Feb . 19, I'll be getting chemo for two days (yes, "Fanny" the fannypack-with-pump will be back) every two weeks. So, chemo for two days, then two weeks with nothing ... chemo for two days, then two weeks with nothing, and so on, for a likely period of SIX MONTHS! Sheesh ...
I can do this ... I can do this ... (My new mantra.) The good thing is that 26 days of every month will be chemo-free, so, yeah, I can do this ...
Barring no disabling side effects, I should be able to work through this, and fully plan to do just that. But SIX MONTHS? I'm still reeling ... It appears that when cancer has invaded lymph nodes, treatment goes into aggressive mode, and I'm all for being aggressive with this.
So "Paula-the-perfect-patient" will do what she needs to do. For six months.
Until next time ...
P
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
On dying
Not too long after my cancer diagnosis, I started thinking, "What if I die?" It's always a possibility with cancer. Three or four people about my age, fellow church members I had known, had died of cancer over the past 10 years or so. A few others had been treated for cancer and were doing fine. Which group would I be in, and what made the difference?
I found a Scripture verse that made me feel better about it all:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11). Those words make me feel as though God isn't finished with me yet, that I still have a godly purpose, more work to do here on this earth.
But still, days before the surgery, I gave my husband funeral instructions ("I want the rock-n-roll Mass band, and here are some of my favorite songs"). You know, just in case something went wrong and I didn't come out of the anesthesia.
Weeks earlier, I had seen a review in the newspaper about a book by physician and Ph.D. Sam Parnia titled What Happens When We Die -- A Groundbreaking Study into the Nature of Life and Death, so I requested it from my local library. And actually took it to the hospital with me. (Just having that book has caused my family members to roll their eyes, since they're all very positive that everything will be OK, but they do know how I like to "cover all the bases.")
Anyway, parts of the book are fascinating -- they relate "near-death experiences" (NDEs) and "out-of-body" experiences from people who took part in Parnia's study. Most had amazingly similar reports: they "floated" on the ceiling as doctors worked on their bodies below and could relate in accurate detail who said what and who did what. And this is after their hearts had stopped beating and they had no measurable brain activity!
In his study, Parnia asks, "what's reality?" and "could mind and consciousness be separate from the brain?" To determine if future cardiac-arrest patients can really "float at the ceiling," he's installing in select hospital operating rooms illustrations that can only be seen from the ceiling (I'm assuming his next book will report those findings).
Most of the NDE patients also reported seeing a brilliant, "loving" light that many thought of as "God," going through a kind of tunnel, and being greeted by dead relatives. One 3-year-old boy said a "nice lady" took him by the hand and the two "floated" to a beautiful sunny place with flowers and animals. One day his mother showed him a picture of her mother -- his grandmother -- who had died years before her son was born. "That's her -- that's the lady!" who had "floated" with him, he said.
Almost all of the NDEs were happy, and those who had them didn't want to return to life on earth. Most had been transformed by their experience: afterwards, they spent more time with family, were less materialistic, had more empathy and understanding for others, did more charity work, became more spiritual, and no longer feared death.
So what do you say we all take their experiences to heart? From this moment on, let's all try to be transformed, as well, by spending more time with family, being less materialistic, having more empathy -- and doing more -- for others, being more spiritual, and not fearing death. Sounds a lot like being a Christian to me ...
Until next time ...
P
I found a Scripture verse that made me feel better about it all:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11). Those words make me feel as though God isn't finished with me yet, that I still have a godly purpose, more work to do here on this earth.
But still, days before the surgery, I gave my husband funeral instructions ("I want the rock-n-roll Mass band, and here are some of my favorite songs"). You know, just in case something went wrong and I didn't come out of the anesthesia.
Weeks earlier, I had seen a review in the newspaper about a book by physician and Ph.D. Sam Parnia titled What Happens When We Die -- A Groundbreaking Study into the Nature of Life and Death, so I requested it from my local library. And actually took it to the hospital with me. (Just having that book has caused my family members to roll their eyes, since they're all very positive that everything will be OK, but they do know how I like to "cover all the bases.")
Anyway, parts of the book are fascinating -- they relate "near-death experiences" (NDEs) and "out-of-body" experiences from people who took part in Parnia's study. Most had amazingly similar reports: they "floated" on the ceiling as doctors worked on their bodies below and could relate in accurate detail who said what and who did what. And this is after their hearts had stopped beating and they had no measurable brain activity!
In his study, Parnia asks, "what's reality?" and "could mind and consciousness be separate from the brain?" To determine if future cardiac-arrest patients can really "float at the ceiling," he's installing in select hospital operating rooms illustrations that can only be seen from the ceiling (I'm assuming his next book will report those findings).
Most of the NDE patients also reported seeing a brilliant, "loving" light that many thought of as "God," going through a kind of tunnel, and being greeted by dead relatives. One 3-year-old boy said a "nice lady" took him by the hand and the two "floated" to a beautiful sunny place with flowers and animals. One day his mother showed him a picture of her mother -- his grandmother -- who had died years before her son was born. "That's her -- that's the lady!" who had "floated" with him, he said.
Almost all of the NDEs were happy, and those who had them didn't want to return to life on earth. Most had been transformed by their experience: afterwards, they spent more time with family, were less materialistic, had more empathy and understanding for others, did more charity work, became more spiritual, and no longer feared death.
So what do you say we all take their experiences to heart? From this moment on, let's all try to be transformed, as well, by spending more time with family, being less materialistic, having more empathy -- and doing more -- for others, being more spiritual, and not fearing death. Sounds a lot like being a Christian to me ...
Until next time ...
P
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Field trip
So, guess what I did today? Went GROCERY SHOPPING! No, I didn't drive, but relied on my sister/nurse/maid to do the driving. I was only going to pick up a few things, but, alas, I have a hard time limiting myself around food ...
So, $113 later, we carted many bags home. Ahhh, it was SO satisfying to find out that, yeah, I am useful once again ... Sort of ...
Plus, it was nice to get out of the house, even if the temp outside is in the 20s!
And, in another "first," I am sipping on a glass of wine as I type this -- my first since before the Jan. 5 surgery!
So, look out -- Paula is on her way back to the real world ...
Until next time ...
P
So, $113 later, we carted many bags home. Ahhh, it was SO satisfying to find out that, yeah, I am useful once again ... Sort of ...
Plus, it was nice to get out of the house, even if the temp outside is in the 20s!
And, in another "first," I am sipping on a glass of wine as I type this -- my first since before the Jan. 5 surgery!
So, look out -- Paula is on her way back to the real world ...
Until next time ...
P
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Walking the walk
So, hey, with the temperature hitting almost 60 degrees, this little sick girl got herself off the couch and out onto the sidewalk today, managing two walks that totaled about six blocks! The left leg is still sore in some spots and numb in others, but tonight I noticed that I could actually lift my left foot about a foot off the ground -- that's about twice as high as a couple of days ago -- so I'm thinking the walking and the stairs are making a difference already.
I'm still sort of afraid to sit, so I'm easing into it with a minute here and a minute there. And while I'm now able to put dishes into (and take 'em out of) the dishwasher and do limited laundry, I'm leaving grocery shopping and other assorted tasks to the hubby and kids. We're still getting dinner several times a week from local friends (the meals have all been delicious, by the way) and family (ditto on the meals), which is a huge help -- bigger than I ever imagined. So thank you to all!
In other news, Hannah-the-student-nurse gave her first shot yesterday -- to me! -- and she did it like an expert. Tomorrow she's got her first hospital experience, so I can't wait to hear all about it. Stay tuned.
Until next time ...
P
I'm still sort of afraid to sit, so I'm easing into it with a minute here and a minute there. And while I'm now able to put dishes into (and take 'em out of) the dishwasher and do limited laundry, I'm leaving grocery shopping and other assorted tasks to the hubby and kids. We're still getting dinner several times a week from local friends (the meals have all been delicious, by the way) and family (ditto on the meals), which is a huge help -- bigger than I ever imagined. So thank you to all!
In other news, Hannah-the-student-nurse gave her first shot yesterday -- to me! -- and she did it like an expert. Tomorrow she's got her first hospital experience, so I can't wait to hear all about it. Stay tuned.
Until next time ...
P
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Free at last!
In the words of Martin Luther King Jr., I am now "free at last, free at last, thank God almighty I am free at last!"
Yes, the drainage tube and UFO are GONE! The catheter is GONE! And a total of 23 staples (19 in the thigh and 4 in the stomach) are GONE! This is an historic day -- and not just because of Barack Obama's inauguration (although it's nice to be home recuperating -- and close to a TV -- on such days! Very emotional, inspiring stuff taking place in D.C.).
Speaking of TV, I want to amend my earlier post by saying that there are at least 10 Court TV dramas daily -- TEN!!! (And I think I've seen every one of 'em at least once.)
But now that I'm "unencumbered" by drains, etc., I plan to watch less TV and be a lot more active. I'm already doing the stairs (one at a time, slowly) and will be outside taking short walks over the next two days, as the temperature is supposed to be in the 40s and 50s.
So, praise God, hallelujah, and woo-hoo for all the historic things that took place today -- in Washington, D.C., and in Ballwin, Mo.!
Until next time ...
P
Yes, the drainage tube and UFO are GONE! The catheter is GONE! And a total of 23 staples (19 in the thigh and 4 in the stomach) are GONE! This is an historic day -- and not just because of Barack Obama's inauguration (although it's nice to be home recuperating -- and close to a TV -- on such days! Very emotional, inspiring stuff taking place in D.C.).
Speaking of TV, I want to amend my earlier post by saying that there are at least 10 Court TV dramas daily -- TEN!!! (And I think I've seen every one of 'em at least once.)
But now that I'm "unencumbered" by drains, etc., I plan to watch less TV and be a lot more active. I'm already doing the stairs (one at a time, slowly) and will be outside taking short walks over the next two days, as the temperature is supposed to be in the 40s and 50s.
So, praise God, hallelujah, and woo-hoo for all the historic things that took place today -- in Washington, D.C., and in Ballwin, Mo.!
Until next time ...
P
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Nurse maid
You know, life would be SO much easier if everyone had a nurse and a maid. Lucky me. I've had the nurse since this cancer "misadventure" (to borrow a phrase from Lisa B.) started some six months ago. And I've had the maid and the nurse since I got out of the hospital last week.
Actually
, they're one and the same person -- my sister, Connie. She's an R.N. and she lives up the street from me. We're only a year apart in age, and, even though she's the younger one, she has embraced her "mother hen" instinct and has made me her mission.
When I was going through five weeks of radiation and chemo last fall, she called me EVERY DAY to find out how I was, what I needed, etc. When I complained that the chemo made the bottoms of my feet tender and sore, she brought me gel inserts for my shoes. When I mentioned that cheap banana-flavored popsicles were one of the few things I could eat with chemo-induced mouth sores, she showed up at my door with a box of them.
She accompanied me more than anyone else to doctor appointments and radiation treatments, laughed with me, cried with me, and was the one who asked around at the hospital and found me a top-notch surgeon.
Now that I'm home after surgery, her "inner maid" has been stopping by to help with laundry, dishes, vacuuming, and a host of other duties, including taking laps with me around the backyard. She's also given me a few of the Lovenox shots and helped with numerous other things.
So, thanks, Connie! You have risen above sisterhood -- all the way to sainthood! And I will never forget it. Love you lots!
Until next time ...
P
Actually
, they're one and the same person -- my sister, Connie. She's an R.N. and she lives up the street from me. We're only a year apart in age, and, even though she's the younger one, she has embraced her "mother hen" instinct and has made me her mission.When I was going through five weeks of radiation and chemo last fall, she called me EVERY DAY to find out how I was, what I needed, etc. When I complained that the chemo made the bottoms of my feet tender and sore, she brought me gel inserts for my shoes. When I mentioned that cheap banana-flavored popsicles were one of the few things I could eat with chemo-induced mouth sores, she showed up at my door with a box of them.
She accompanied me more than anyone else to doctor appointments and radiation treatments, laughed with me, cried with me, and was the one who asked around at the hospital and found me a top-notch surgeon.
Now that I'm home after surgery, her "inner maid" has been stopping by to help with laundry, dishes, vacuuming, and a host of other duties, including taking laps with me around the backyard. She's also given me a few of the Lovenox shots and helped with numerous other things.
So, thanks, Connie! You have risen above sisterhood -- all the way to sainthood! And I will never forget it. Love you lots!
Until next time ...
P
Friday, January 16, 2009
Cheers!
"Shhhh! Judge Judy's about to give her verdict!" This is what I hiss to my family when they interrupt my Court TV dramas. (Actually, I think I've only done it once or twice, but the opportunities for additional abuses are there.)
So I'm straightening up my act immediately. Family members and friends trump Judge Judy et al from now on.
It's been a good day. I got to talk to three co-workers on the phone. Visit in person with two girlfriends and my sister. E-mail a couple of friends. Open a couple of really
entertaining e-cards (http://rattlebox.com has some doozies that you should definitely check out!).
And, the piece de resistance -- I found out that next Tuesday, Jan. 20, I will be freed from:
So, woo-hoo, I'm starting the celebration NOW by "toasting" my Kondremul (the French-wine name for, um, mineral oil). So, please, have a drink with me tonight -- or anytime this weekend! Bottoms up!
Love you guys,
P
So I'm straightening up my act immediately. Family members and friends trump Judge Judy et al from now on.
It's been a good day. I got to talk to three co-workers on the phone. Visit in person with two girlfriends and my sister. E-mail a couple of friends. Open a couple of really
entertaining e-cards (http://rattlebox.com has some doozies that you should definitely check out!).And, the piece de resistance -- I found out that next Tuesday, Jan. 20, I will be freed from:
- the catheter!
- the drainage tube and resident UFO!
- the 19 staples!
So, woo-hoo, I'm starting the celebration NOW by "toasting" my Kondremul (the French-wine name for, um, mineral oil). So, please, have a drink with me tonight -- or anytime this weekend! Bottoms up!
Love you guys,
P
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
