Let me go on record saying that I’m not a big fan of the “things are going to get worse before they get better” methods of cancer treatment.
I went to my appointment Tuesday ready for my treatment feeling OK, tired, heart racing a little, but nothing out of the ordinary. Or so I thought. I failed the little ET finger test. This is the one where they stick the little monitor on your finger to check your pulse and the oxygen in your blood. I’ve had this about a thousand times in the last three years but never have they asked me to walk around wearing it. Much beeping of the machine ensued. Beeping is never good. Next time they ask me, I will decline. Apparently when you’re on a clinical trial, something can become a big deal quickly.
Last 72 hours
- 8 hours in the ER
- Hospital admission/Discharge = 12 hours
- Maybe 20 people listening to my heart, it’s a teaching hospital, I get it. One time two Drs at once – no kidding
- Tests – Scads of bloodwork, numerous EKGs, Echocardiogram, Cardiac MRI
- Put on oxygen
- 462 retellings of my medication list, my cancer, how I ended up in the ER/Hospital, who my drs are. This I do not get. Everything is in the computer. Come on people.
- Had to make DNR decision again
- 1 cancer treatment – Anti-PD1, 2 days late
- 1 unit of blood
- Called stubborn by multiple people
- Had Drs apologizing to me, that I was so sick (What? Wait? Huh?) and my oncology nurse cried (no, not because I was mean).
I was so loopy after 7 hours in the ER (4 in the waiting room, 3 in the hallway on a bed) I forgot about my brain tumors. Alan had to remind me. I think I said something like “Well, what can I say – I’ve had brain tumors”.
Sunday I’m at a pool party, Tuesday in the ER. Cancer sucks.
Yesterday when I got up I literally could not breathe. It was the scariest thing ever. I dragged myself back to Vanderbilt for my MRI while Alan took #2 and #3 for their last day of school. The one hour MRI where I had to hold my breath every minute or so felt pretty much like dying but I said some prayers and got through it.
I thought for only the second time ever – You know what God, I can’t do this anymore. But then, immediately, I thought of my family. Ah but it’s not up to me anyway, to pick and choose what happens in this life.
The cancer is blocking blood flow from my heart to my lungs and past the point of operable. I’m ready for this new drug to start kicking some cancer butt.
Today is better. I can breathe. I am exhausted from the treatment. The day after seems the worst by far. I’m trying to muster up the energy to get myself back to Vandy. I have another blood transfusion scheduled. It’s also Alan’s birthday. I am so thankful that I have him. He is always by my side and he keeps me going when I think I can’t anymore. I’m so blessed God put us together.
I remain thankful for every day, for my awesome doctors and nurses at Vanderbilt, and my wonderful friends and family. Here’s to hoping for a better tomorrow.
“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
Peace to you all,