Not bad--so far. The whole enterprise took a little over three hours. I had my blood work done last week, so they didn't have to start with that. First thing was Dex and Aloxi (check out April and December 08 for that), then I got Doxil, which still looks like Hawaiian Punch, and finally Carboplatin. I'm not feeling tip-top, but part of that is still from the surgery. And I'm tired. I'm getting lots of rest, but I'm tired. I'm anemic already and taking iron--and resting. Tomorrow is a full day. Judging from past chemos the day after is usually OK. Actually, with Doxil, everything was pretty good. Now I'm just waiting.
xxooxx
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Looking to the Near Future
It was a week of appointments. Monday was Dr. Chee. My surgery was almost as good as it could have been--best would have been if it was just scar tissue causing the blockage. There was some discussion as to whether I would need further chemo or not. Chemo won--but what kind? I could have carboplatin and taxol again and welcome a new series of orc wars on a three week cycle=and no hair. Boo hiss. Or I could have Doxil again and put up with skin problems on a four week cycle. Or something different. Different won--I'll be having carboplatin and doxil with a different set of side effects. I start Feb 28 then once every four weeks for six cycles. That's really the best that it could be. It doesn't interfere with the important things coming up--my Eastern Star meetings, the Ceili (perfect timing for that, the Ceili is March 26), or my trip to Yosemite in May. Bring it on.
Tuesday was Mark, my therapist. A visit with Mark includes a visit with Charles, the security guard in the lobby. Mark has been very good for me for years--Charles is an added bonus. Charles greets me with "Good morning, beautiful," and I feel beautiful, even if I'm not. Charles prays for me when I need prayers--that would be most of the time--and I pray for Charles when he needs it. Charles volunteers for the Red Cross and is one of those who rush in where angels fear to tread. Charles was also not there on Tuesday. He'd hurt his ankle the day before. i may have to make a special trip to Mark's building next Wednesday when I go downtown for my (FINALLY) haircut.
Wednesday was my follow-up with Dr. Allen, the surgeon. That took five minutes. Everything is healing as expected..see you in a month.
Thursday was just a social visit with my friend Andrea--but it's another bright spot in the week.
Friday, the visiting nurse came to check on my dressings--getting better but still draining. My friend Luanne came and brought lunch then stayed to try to organize one of my kitchen counters. "Where does this go?" "If I knew it would be there." It was really sweet of her--causes me a little anxiety because I really am comfortable with junk, but it looks much better. Luanne is another blessing in my life courtesy of the phone company. We worked together for years. I wouldn't like to think of my life without her because she is such a dear person. Friday afternoon was the last doctor appointment of the week--Dr. Maldonado for my heel. She gave me two shots to help the inflammation and more DuoDerm to protect it. I was once given a plaque that read "It isn't the mountains that get you down, it's the grain of sand in your shoe." My left heel is the grain of sand in my shoe. Not a big deal, but a pretty constant annoyance. I'd just like it to get better so I can start walking again...if it ever stops raining.
The rain has been with us all week. It has been glorious wonderful rain. When I can see the drops without my glasses, you know that's a good rain. It is good for my healing and my budget, because I'm not anxious to go out and shop in this weather. I'm happy in a cute sweater, nice and warm inside, knitting. I'm on a quick project right now. My friend Roxanne is a first time grandmother to premature twins. I got a whole book of preemie patterns. It's like making doll clothes. They are so cute--and so quick.
That's it for now. Anticipating chemo but confident.
xxooxx
Tuesday was Mark, my therapist. A visit with Mark includes a visit with Charles, the security guard in the lobby. Mark has been very good for me for years--Charles is an added bonus. Charles greets me with "Good morning, beautiful," and I feel beautiful, even if I'm not. Charles prays for me when I need prayers--that would be most of the time--and I pray for Charles when he needs it. Charles volunteers for the Red Cross and is one of those who rush in where angels fear to tread. Charles was also not there on Tuesday. He'd hurt his ankle the day before. i may have to make a special trip to Mark's building next Wednesday when I go downtown for my (FINALLY) haircut.
Wednesday was my follow-up with Dr. Allen, the surgeon. That took five minutes. Everything is healing as expected..see you in a month.
Thursday was just a social visit with my friend Andrea--but it's another bright spot in the week.
Friday, the visiting nurse came to check on my dressings--getting better but still draining. My friend Luanne came and brought lunch then stayed to try to organize one of my kitchen counters. "Where does this go?" "If I knew it would be there." It was really sweet of her--causes me a little anxiety because I really am comfortable with junk, but it looks much better. Luanne is another blessing in my life courtesy of the phone company. We worked together for years. I wouldn't like to think of my life without her because she is such a dear person. Friday afternoon was the last doctor appointment of the week--Dr. Maldonado for my heel. She gave me two shots to help the inflammation and more DuoDerm to protect it. I was once given a plaque that read "It isn't the mountains that get you down, it's the grain of sand in your shoe." My left heel is the grain of sand in my shoe. Not a big deal, but a pretty constant annoyance. I'd just like it to get better so I can start walking again...if it ever stops raining.
The rain has been with us all week. It has been glorious wonderful rain. When I can see the drops without my glasses, you know that's a good rain. It is good for my healing and my budget, because I'm not anxious to go out and shop in this weather. I'm happy in a cute sweater, nice and warm inside, knitting. I'm on a quick project right now. My friend Roxanne is a first time grandmother to premature twins. I got a whole book of preemie patterns. It's like making doll clothes. They are so cute--and so quick.
That's it for now. Anticipating chemo but confident.
xxooxx
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Remembering Way Back
I read obituaries. I have read obituaries for as long as I can remember. Because I've lived in the San Francisco Bay Area all my life, occasionally I run into names that mean something to me. This week, the memory tweaker was James Morley. I never knew James Morley, but his father, Professor Morley, was very important to my very small self. Professor Morley was old when I was a little girl on Etna Street. We moved to Russell Street when I was six, so that was a very long time ago.
Etna Street was a wonderful place in the early 50's. Our block was crawling with kids our age. Professor Morley lived four or five houses down the block, towards Derby Street. Most afternoons (or so it seemed), Professor Morley would gather the neighborhood children on his front steps, like so many baby ducklings, and read Beatrix Potter stories to us. He was already a retired professor then, with white hair. He was everyone's grandfather. What a lot of patience he must have had. I suppose now, people would assume the worst about an old man and a bunch of children. I liked the 50's. We just grouped around this great old man and he read us stories. It was a magical time.
So rest in peace, James Morley. Don't know a thing about you, but you had a great dad, so you had a good start in life.
I'm doing as expected, healing slowly. My skin really hates adhesives, so it is really looking forward to being bandage free. If it's all the same with God, I'd prefer not to get an infection in the incision this time. Looking forward to seeing Dr. Chee tomorrow to find out what is next.
xxooxx
Etna Street was a wonderful place in the early 50's. Our block was crawling with kids our age. Professor Morley lived four or five houses down the block, towards Derby Street. Most afternoons (or so it seemed), Professor Morley would gather the neighborhood children on his front steps, like so many baby ducklings, and read Beatrix Potter stories to us. He was already a retired professor then, with white hair. He was everyone's grandfather. What a lot of patience he must have had. I suppose now, people would assume the worst about an old man and a bunch of children. I liked the 50's. We just grouped around this great old man and he read us stories. It was a magical time.
So rest in peace, James Morley. Don't know a thing about you, but you had a great dad, so you had a good start in life.
I'm doing as expected, healing slowly. My skin really hates adhesives, so it is really looking forward to being bandage free. If it's all the same with God, I'd prefer not to get an infection in the incision this time. Looking forward to seeing Dr. Chee tomorrow to find out what is next.
xxooxx
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Happy Matron
I went back into the Eastern Star line because I thought my chapter needed me. I didn't really expect to be dealing with active cancer the year I was Worthy Matron, but that's how it worked out. I wanted to serve this year in particular, because I served as Worthy Matron in 1999 for our current Worthy Grand Matron's mother. I thought it would be cool to serve with both mother and daughter. As an added bonus, I would get to be the presiding Worthy Matron when my friend Ethel was awarded her 50-year member pin and also when my daughter, Elaine, would be receiving her 25-year member pin. I was WM the first time in 1986 when lee and I got to initiate Elaine. Also receiving a 25-year pin, and another member I initiated, was Melody, who served as Honored Queen the term before Elaine. Melody has been one of my girls since she was 12 years old.
Tonight was the night we presented the pins. Yes, I had major surgery three weeks ago. No power on earth could have kept me away. I have loved Ethel since she was my first Deputy Grand Matron for my first office. I admire and respect her on a great many levels. It was such a privilege to honor her tonight. I was hurting, but I was beaming and I was blessed. Tonight was truly special in my fraternal life. Thank you, God. I'm a happy girl.
I'm also a healing girl. Things are itching, so I know they are getting better. The Visiting Nurse comes tomorrow to check on me. I also get to visit my friends at the hospital and have my blood sucked in preparation for Monday's doctor appointment. What could possibly be better? Life is perfect.
xxooxx
Tonight was the night we presented the pins. Yes, I had major surgery three weeks ago. No power on earth could have kept me away. I have loved Ethel since she was my first Deputy Grand Matron for my first office. I admire and respect her on a great many levels. It was such a privilege to honor her tonight. I was hurting, but I was beaming and I was blessed. Tonight was truly special in my fraternal life. Thank you, God. I'm a happy girl.
I'm also a healing girl. Things are itching, so I know they are getting better. The Visiting Nurse comes tomorrow to check on me. I also get to visit my friends at the hospital and have my blood sucked in preparation for Monday's doctor appointment. What could possibly be better? Life is perfect.
xxooxx
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Latest Trip to the Hospital
I'm home, at the desktop, and with a somewhat longer attention span, so I'll try to do justice to the last two weeks. We arrived at the hospital around 10 on the 20th. I drove just because I could. There was no place to park by the surgery center, so Elaine and I went to check in while Glenn parked the car. I was shown to a cubicle and changed into a paper gown. Vitals were taken and I settled in for an anxious wait. I met with the anesthesiologist--same one who did my surgery in 08, so she knew what she was getting in for. She wanted to put in an epidural. They tried that in 08 but ran into my back surgery. So armed, she knew where to put it this time. She said it helped in the post op recovery. Good. I met with my surgeon. Surgery was late which didn't help with the anxiety level. Finally, they came to get me. I said good by to the kids and was wheeled to the OR. Now the fun begins. I have dreadful veins. They are small, hidden, and they roll. That's why I got the port. Still, the anesthesiologist wanted another IV. Tried the left arm. Tried the right arm. OK, so we'll use the port. The surgeon, who put it in, tried to access it--couldn't get good aspiration. So the anesthesiologist got serious and put a central line into my jugular vein in my neck. That's all I remember till waking up in the PACU. OK, I survived. I hadn't been all that sure.
After the requisite PACU time, I was taken to my room on the 7th floor. I have now sampled six of the rooms there. I had a private room, always a plus. There was a window looking out to the west, but it was so high that all I saw out of it most of the time was sky. Glenn and Elaine arrived with all my toys and the news that the surgeon got all the cancer--at least all they could see this time around--and that things were looking good. That's good. Cassandra, the night nurse, was able to access my port and move the IV there. My surgeon was jealous--though he did say that they flushed it several times during surgery and that may have opened things up. I was still pretty dopey, so I managed to sleep. Friday was a different matter. I was really hurting. Staying on top of the pain was just not going to happen. I did manage to be gotten out of bed and into a chair for a while, and even walked, with a walker, the RN and CNA passed the elevator lobby to the nurses' station and back. After needing breakthrough pain meds every half hour, the evening nurse got the on call anesthesiologist to increase the morphine drip in my spine form 10 to 12 ml/hour and things got more bearable. Fortunately, you do not remember how pain feels, but you can remember that something hurt..
I came out of surgery with an NG tube--I expected that. What I didn't expect was that I'd coughed it up into my mouth and they had to replace it in the PACU. The second one also came out on its own about a day before they planned to take it out. I was expecting to have them put one back in, but they didn't. As long as I wasn't nauseous, I didn't need it. One less tube. I think I got rid on oxygen on Saturday or Sunday. Another tube gone.
I kept the epidural in till Monday. As long as that kept pumping, things were tolerable. It got a little dicey when it ran out and they weren't johnny on the spot with the next syringe. Adjusting to life without the morphine drip was difficult. At one point, I went for two hours waiting for the next pain shot and for my IV bag to be changed. That was the day that I had a less than satisfactory CNA who failed to pass on to the nurse that my IV was beeping and I was in pain. I dozed off around shift change and was really uncomfortable when relief finally came.
My neighbor in the beginning was a a 30 or 40 something Asian woman. Her husband was with her most of the time. They walked the halls a lot, he pushed her IV pole and held her hand--then just held her hand when she got rid of the IV. That was pure love. It made me smile just passing them in the hall. I didn't get to say good by when she checked out, but I wish them well.
I had company and phone calls, cards and flowers. I didn't have the kids set up my laptop till I'd been there about a week. I updated my Facebook status from my IPhone--just didn't have the energy for the laptop--and there was almost no way to use it comfortably for long periods of time. My memory of the last two weeks is sort of jumbled together. Suffice it to say that things are progressing as they should. If I try to pass this surgery off as "no big deal," as I have said of the last three years, someone slap me. This surgery was a big deal.
I'm on the mend and thank you all for the prayers and support.
xxooxx
After the requisite PACU time, I was taken to my room on the 7th floor. I have now sampled six of the rooms there. I had a private room, always a plus. There was a window looking out to the west, but it was so high that all I saw out of it most of the time was sky. Glenn and Elaine arrived with all my toys and the news that the surgeon got all the cancer--at least all they could see this time around--and that things were looking good. That's good. Cassandra, the night nurse, was able to access my port and move the IV there. My surgeon was jealous--though he did say that they flushed it several times during surgery and that may have opened things up. I was still pretty dopey, so I managed to sleep. Friday was a different matter. I was really hurting. Staying on top of the pain was just not going to happen. I did manage to be gotten out of bed and into a chair for a while, and even walked, with a walker, the RN and CNA passed the elevator lobby to the nurses' station and back. After needing breakthrough pain meds every half hour, the evening nurse got the on call anesthesiologist to increase the morphine drip in my spine form 10 to 12 ml/hour and things got more bearable. Fortunately, you do not remember how pain feels, but you can remember that something hurt..
I came out of surgery with an NG tube--I expected that. What I didn't expect was that I'd coughed it up into my mouth and they had to replace it in the PACU. The second one also came out on its own about a day before they planned to take it out. I was expecting to have them put one back in, but they didn't. As long as I wasn't nauseous, I didn't need it. One less tube. I think I got rid on oxygen on Saturday or Sunday. Another tube gone.
I kept the epidural in till Monday. As long as that kept pumping, things were tolerable. It got a little dicey when it ran out and they weren't johnny on the spot with the next syringe. Adjusting to life without the morphine drip was difficult. At one point, I went for two hours waiting for the next pain shot and for my IV bag to be changed. That was the day that I had a less than satisfactory CNA who failed to pass on to the nurse that my IV was beeping and I was in pain. I dozed off around shift change and was really uncomfortable when relief finally came.
My neighbor in the beginning was a a 30 or 40 something Asian woman. Her husband was with her most of the time. They walked the halls a lot, he pushed her IV pole and held her hand--then just held her hand when she got rid of the IV. That was pure love. It made me smile just passing them in the hall. I didn't get to say good by when she checked out, but I wish them well.
I had company and phone calls, cards and flowers. I didn't have the kids set up my laptop till I'd been there about a week. I updated my Facebook status from my IPhone--just didn't have the energy for the laptop--and there was almost no way to use it comfortably for long periods of time. My memory of the last two weeks is sort of jumbled together. Suffice it to say that things are progressing as they should. If I try to pass this surgery off as "no big deal," as I have said of the last three years, someone slap me. This surgery was a big deal.
I'm on the mend and thank you all for the prayers and support.
xxooxx
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