30 May 2012

I Blame Chemo

I blame chemo... for everything that is not quite right, uncomfortable or down-right wrong.  Can't remember stuff?  Chemo.  Weight gain?  Chemo.  Yelling at the kids?  Chemo.  World hunger?  Global climate change?  Lack of good political choices?  All chemo.

So this week, when I became food for bugs, and the dining sites all blew up with angry red welts with swollen icky-fluid filled centers, I blamed chemo.  Dan is sure I have secondary staph infections, so I called my Doc, (the day after a long weekend.... like I'm going to get in this week???) and when I asked for an appointment, the receptionist said she had nothing Tuesday.  I told her I had figured as much and proceeded to describe three bug bites, two on my right arm and one on the right side of my upper back, with large red welts and pus filled centers.  Amazingly enough, an appointment at 10am materialized.

So I went in and Dr. T. said it wasn't bug bites.  She thinks it's either Chicken Pox or Shingles.  She's gotta be kidding. I had a vicious case of Chicken Pox twenty years ago, when I was 28.  It was so bad that when I walked in the doctor's office, they told me to turn around and march right back home.  They couldn't do anything for me and didn't want to risk the exposure to others.  I could understand getting Pox again if I had a mild first case but there wasn't two square inches on my body, inside or out that didn't have blisters.  I was miserable for ten days and women and children cringed and screamed upon my re-entry into society.  Dr. T. prescribed Valtrex (horse pills) that I'm choking down three times a day, with the caveat that if I developed more lesions, (particularly on the left side of my body,) she'd stop the anti-viral and put me on an anti-biotic for her third guess, a systemic bacterial infection.  She's pretty convinced it's Pox, especially after I revealed that M had shingles over spring break.

That leads us to the lymphedema, (it's all related,)  which could be a result of the physical therapy I'm doing for my lymph cording, or the weight bearing exercises prescribed for that arm, or the fact that I have either a raging viral or bacterial infection.  The lymphedema specialist at my rehab medicine joint is on vacation this week so I'm stuck with being swollen. My massage therapist did a little drainage for me last Saturday which reduced the swelling some.  It's not bad, but it is uncomfortable - even painful.    I'm waiting to see what the lymphedema gal will do about it but I suspect a compression sleeve is in order.

I'm tired this week, much more so than I have been for weeks.  I'm walking instead of running/training this week.  My joints and muscles need a break from the impact.

  

26 May 2012

Update

I haven't written for a while. This is a sign of many things. First is the fact that my life is kind of getting back to normal and I simply don't have the time or energy to devote to thinking about stuff and writing it down. Second, I'm spending most of my emotional energy dealing with the family's fallout of my cancer. Dan and I are working through stuff, M is acting out, I'm battling a slide into depression from stopping my Zoloft. Third I have some physical issues popping up, which are taking their toll.

With the treatment part of my cancer done, I really don't have to think deep thoughts like I did when I was first diagnosed. I don't feel the need to chronical anything, at least not like I did when I was deep in my journey. The blip is mostly over. I'm making fruit salad for teacher luncheons and inviting folks over to swim and bar-b-que. I'm buying grad gifts for family members and doing laundry and calling the plumber to have the back-flo preventer replaced. Normal stuff. I haven't decided what kind of volunteering I'll be doing. I just know that I will be much more picky about it and seek commitments that best match my skills. I'm taking better care of myself in some ways. By reducing my task and pacing myself, I've managed to carve out dedicated exercise time. I like to walk, but now I'm finding I like to run even more. I'm up to two miles (today!) as well as walking ridiculous mileage. I’ve started back at the gym and I'm doing physical therapy for some issues. (More on that a little later.)

Dan and I are also pursuing dedicated couple time. Cancer put an inordinate strain on our marriage - believe it or not, it was harder to deal with than the kitchen remodel, and that is saying something! N seems to have weathered the storm well.She had already been seeing a therapist and continues to do so. M is starting to act out. We aren’t sure if this is a product of internalizing while I was sick, or simply hormones.  Time will tell. I'm really hoping all she's going to need is a real bra and ”the talk”. As I continue with my therapist, more issues emerge, not just from the cancer, but old stuff, new stuff and in-between stuff.  It's all connected.  I'm working to manage some depression/anxiety issue without turning to the meds that have kept me on an even keel for the past ten years or so. Good diet and exercise help, but I'm not always able to discipline myself to do that. Finding the sweet-spot between being productive and feeling overwhelmed is key. I'm not there yet. I feel inadequate as a mother, as a productive member of society, as a spouse. I have a lot of guilt about these things.

Physically, I've discovered that cancer is the gift that keeps giving. My AWS (axillary web syndrome) is greatly improved following six physical therapy sessions where they tugged, twisted, stripped, pressed and cupped my corded lymph system, leaving broken blood vessels and bruises along the way.  As bad as that sounds, I have to tell you, it was worse than you think.  I still have two or three sessions left, but I have now developed a case of lymphedema. My arm and hand began to ache Tuesday, swell Wednesday, and while I pointed it out to the PT Thursday, they focused on the pain and thinking it was tendon related, told me to lay off the weights for a few days. I sit here looking at my plump hand, I am reminded of an elderly aunt who had a radical mastectomy in the 70's and had ”elephant arm” for the rest of her life. The swelling has begun creeping up my arm. My wrist looks a little fat. I called the breast surgeon Friday for another referral to rehab medicine and asked where to buy a compression sleeve locally. In the meantime, more ibuprofen, my wonder-drug.

The onset of the lymphedema is one of those ”one step back” moments. I've been making insane progress on fitness, walking/running over 30 miles this week. I'm feeling as strong/fit as I was last summer before I was diagnosed, and then my body will tell me something else, put me in check, remind me that I was really ill and I'm still recovering. I was hoping I would be one of the lucky ones and never have to deal with lymphedema, but I guess I'll have to settle (?!) for being one of the lucky ones who gets to deal with lymphedema, rather than dying from this stupid, crappy disease.

7 May 2012

Cancer Limerick Monday

It's now two whole weeks without verses

It seems Sunday limericks have curses

No pithy, no clever

I fret will I ever

Recover my rhyme? Or get worses?

1 May 2012

No Internal Censor?


Dan often remarks that I have no internal censor and should run certain things by him.  Instead I'm going to ask you to vote via poll at the bottom of this post.

I do not have a before picture* of my boobs, and while I do have some photos of them in progress, I do not have a very good progression showing the construction process.  What I do have is an opportunity to photograph them now that they are pretty well done.  They may need some more work but the incisions are in good shape and the implants are approaching the vicinity where they are supposed to be.

*(Side bar) I thought about having pictures done before my surgery but ultimately let it slide.  I did not realize I would miss my boobs, nor did I think I would want a reminder of what was there.  The cancer was showing in that my nipple pointed left while the rest of me pointed right.  I am not one to really look back once I've made up my mind so I just moved forward without documentation.

Do I really want a picture of my foobs on the intarwebs?  This is a loaded question.  On the one hand, I don't feel like they are mine.  To me, the skin flaps stretched from my neck and ribcage and sewn together over my pec muscles, then stretched and filled with silicone, don't resonate as private parts.  On the other hand, how do I reclaim them as such if I don't treat them as though they were?  It's kind of a tough call for me.  Do I expose them in the name of science, (or in this case, interest?) Or fake it 'til I make it?  (Will I ever make it?  Will they ever feel like they are a part of me instead of some aliens hanging off my chest?) Please vote and let me know what you think.  Thanks!