Yesterday, my mid-week day-off from the clinic, was a very emotional day. I'm still struggling with a few issues aside from just trying to be in the moment, survive, the basics...I have continued to try to find the answer to this persistant hip pain, swallowing dysfunction and voice changes that I have been going through. And to step on the anxiety that arises as I wonder what the source of these issues may be, and what it could mean, and remind myself that I have had a myriad of work-ups showing no reason to assume any dire diagnosis surrounding them, so it makes most sense to simply move forward with life and practice the action that I preach to myself and others constantly-enjoy this moment, this one beautiful moment.
Tuesday one of my colleagues performed an adjustment on my hips and noted that they are out of alignment; between her care and the use of a light therapy wand, I felt MUCH better thereafter that day and night but the experience reminded me-I HAVE A CHIROPRACTER! I realized that I had not been to see him in over a year and was happy to be able to get a last minute appointment on Wednesday.
(finishing up on Friday) I walked into the chiropractors office and felt a sense of being in the right place, the kind of touchy-feel-y happy goodness like returning to summer camp and being in a place of love that I used to want to just say "Shut Up!" when people would talk like that around me. I was laughing and crying at the same time as my doc assessed the misalignment of my pelvis and tested me for the need to supplement my emotional health with Bach Flowers and I began to feel as though I was bursting though a layer of sediment that has been lying over me the last year, maybe longer, as I have dealt with my mother's illness then death, pushing my own health to the back burner, trying to maintain career momentum and not lose my artist's soul in the middle of it all... shoot listen to me...I have been feeling MUCH better since that visit and my hip, though not pain free, is feeling more like it's old self.
Later, I went to singing class. The experience of being a singing student, feeling myself a professional among dedicated amateurs, has been humbling and also revealing of my own ego as I don't truly know anything about the backgrounds of my classmates. All have nice voices but I make assumptions based on my impressions...anyway, they are a sweet and lovely group and have been very kind to me, and their kindness was tested as I struggled to graciously accept the vocal coaching that is part of the course, and in that room of love, had a tearful melt down as I finally reconnected with my voice and hit the lick I'd been looking for. One thing to be directed when recording a song as a voice for hire, another to be directed while try to let loose my inner jazz "artiste". From having been the original vocalist of The Time Jumpers to a former chick singer with an out of shape voice struggling to make the song "swing", it's been a hard road toward renewing my connection with the songs. I had a breakthrough; suddenly felt the sense of inspiration, my voice spiraling almost without my guidance, and the cushion of the band behind me as if I could fall back on it like a rock star crowd surfing. That sensation carried me through my days with Sam Moore, singing duets on "When Something is Wrong with My Baby" on so many nights including in the Lionel Hampton Jazz Club at Le Meridian in Paris in 2002 for New Years Eve, the whole band jumping up and down with inability to control our excitement and enthusiasm and me counting down the last seconds in French, Merci Boucoup! Dave just newly up from major surgery, not yet struck by lung cancer... that person is me too, not just the cancer survivor/therapist at Vanderbilt. Oh Yes! that is me too and I felt it again for a second. Despite the sense of awkwardness I initially felt at paying to sing rather than being paid, that's part of this transition, to study and be coached and to be humble and yes, I'm there for it, I have had an adjustment and am realigning myself with me and yes I am going to keep going there!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Happy Birthday Mommy; Wish you Were Here
Yesterday was an auspicious day: the inauguration, Martin Luther King day, and the 75th anniversary of the birth of CL, my mother, who passed away last spring. I could not help but think throughout the day how she would have loved sharing a special day with the pres and Dr. King. I had to work and so saw very little of the Washington festivities, but caught our good looking president and his lovely wife in the parade walking along waving to the crowd and thought that despite so many ills and sorrows in the world at this time, it is a lovely thing to have a first family that I throughly like. Don't always agree with the politics, but I like them, they are nice and smart and strike me as sincere. My mother, while I did not always share her interests or her point of view, was also nice and smart and sincere and gave me many of the qualities that I like most about myself, and although I feel an odd closeness with her now, I wish like heck that I could talk to her, call her to tell her of my successes to hear her delight and praise, visit and get a warm hug. Those days were gone before she died so that longing is older than the grief, but all of it comes to the surface on such a day as yesterday. Happy Birthday, Mommy; wish you were here.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Anxiety
Woke at 4:30 or so in lots of pain; left shoulder, neck, head especially around the left eye and above. I thought I was having a stroke-that is an indication of my anxiety level. It's probably sinus irritation from being cooped up in this house with the cold weather and not having had a massage in over a month, my spoiled body protesting. Also, have gone back to drinking Chinese tea on days off of work and probably was low on caffeine yesterday so up at 5 for coffee and hopefully not waking my husband who has really been challenged by my new schedule of usual 6 am wake ups.
I'm off on Wednesdays now, a workday change that I anticipated gleefully and which is not making me as happy as I thought it would. With my full time 32-hour job, 2 on 1 off, 2 on, 2 off, is sort of like having 2 Mondays in the work week, rather than just an easier week, and it is clinically difficult for the schedulers to book patients for me when many of them should be coming 3 x per week. So I may rethink that one, but haven't had the heart to broach the subject with my husband just yet-he is a night creature who has already adapted to rising early, but needs more sleep than I do, and it's asking a lot to include that 5th day of 6 am get-ups, although with my forgetfulness about resetting the alarm, it may not make a difference!
Another challenge with Wednesday off is keeping the commitment to daily exercise. I have a stationary bike at home now, so that should not be an issue, but there is something soothing about a routine like driving to the clinic, going to the gym there for an hour, then crossing the street to my office and working all day. The workout wakes me and makes me feel that I'm following doctors orders for longevity and avoidance of recurrence, and that in itself is soothing, an anxiety reducer. And of course with the bike at home, this concern should not require me to alter my work schedule, but somehow, I don't know-I may have to do it for peace, for routine, to get back to that feeling I had a few months ago when I was working out 4 - 5 mornings a week regularly and having a sense of return to my old well self. The constant evolution of a life demands constant adaptation, something I feel I should be good at by now, but with which I still struggle.
I lost my keys yesterday; came home Tuesday night with ice storm threatening and a state of emergency declared and dropped my purse and coat on the chair in the living room as usual; I remember having my keys in my hand as I went to some other part of the house but thought that I had gone back and put them in my purse, but they are nowhere to be found and after both of us searching as I tried to leave early for my jazz singing class last night, I eventually borrowed D's and came home later, breaking down in tears, feeling like a failure, my world falling apart. My spouse, with his usual laser-like ability to come to the point, asked what happened to the Zen person I strive to be with my activities. In an attempt to find her, I got up this morning and meditated. Not sure if it was that or the coffee that has backed the headache from a 9 to a 2, but either way, today will be a better day and I recommit to joy.
I'm off on Wednesdays now, a workday change that I anticipated gleefully and which is not making me as happy as I thought it would. With my full time 32-hour job, 2 on 1 off, 2 on, 2 off, is sort of like having 2 Mondays in the work week, rather than just an easier week, and it is clinically difficult for the schedulers to book patients for me when many of them should be coming 3 x per week. So I may rethink that one, but haven't had the heart to broach the subject with my husband just yet-he is a night creature who has already adapted to rising early, but needs more sleep than I do, and it's asking a lot to include that 5th day of 6 am get-ups, although with my forgetfulness about resetting the alarm, it may not make a difference!
Another challenge with Wednesday off is keeping the commitment to daily exercise. I have a stationary bike at home now, so that should not be an issue, but there is something soothing about a routine like driving to the clinic, going to the gym there for an hour, then crossing the street to my office and working all day. The workout wakes me and makes me feel that I'm following doctors orders for longevity and avoidance of recurrence, and that in itself is soothing, an anxiety reducer. And of course with the bike at home, this concern should not require me to alter my work schedule, but somehow, I don't know-I may have to do it for peace, for routine, to get back to that feeling I had a few months ago when I was working out 4 - 5 mornings a week regularly and having a sense of return to my old well self. The constant evolution of a life demands constant adaptation, something I feel I should be good at by now, but with which I still struggle.
I lost my keys yesterday; came home Tuesday night with ice storm threatening and a state of emergency declared and dropped my purse and coat on the chair in the living room as usual; I remember having my keys in my hand as I went to some other part of the house but thought that I had gone back and put them in my purse, but they are nowhere to be found and after both of us searching as I tried to leave early for my jazz singing class last night, I eventually borrowed D's and came home later, breaking down in tears, feeling like a failure, my world falling apart. My spouse, with his usual laser-like ability to come to the point, asked what happened to the Zen person I strive to be with my activities. In an attempt to find her, I got up this morning and meditated. Not sure if it was that or the coffee that has backed the headache from a 9 to a 2, but either way, today will be a better day and I recommit to joy.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Resolutions
written 1/13/13
I finally figured out how to do this on the ipad...I think. It's an app...duh. I have been a slow learner with the ipad, feeling overwhelmed with technology. It get's depressing sometimes trying to stay on top of "upgrades" in modern life. I no longer make resolutions, but do make plans and set goals for the new year, among them to write this blog at least once a week, and already am unsuccessful in keeping this goal, but perhaps can succeed with once monthly? A friend gave me a good review on this blog and encouraged me to return to my writing, which helped spur this note, and as I have all kinds of book-writing urges lately, I guess I better practice some composition.
I finally figured out how to do this on the ipad...I think. It's an app...duh. I have been a slow learner with the ipad, feeling overwhelmed with technology. It get's depressing sometimes trying to stay on top of "upgrades" in modern life. I no longer make resolutions, but do make plans and set goals for the new year, among them to write this blog at least once a week, and already am unsuccessful in keeping this goal, but perhaps can succeed with once monthly? A friend gave me a good review on this blog and encouraged me to return to my writing, which helped spur this note, and as I have all kinds of book-writing urges lately, I guess I better practice some composition.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Oncologist visit-it's all good
Every survivor knows the butterflies that occur in the days and nights leading up to the quarterly then semi-annual and later annual visits with the oncologist. The what-ifs and the listing of abnormalities that precede the appointment. I knew that I must be coming on to good news, as I really feel great despite the phenomenal stress that I'm under at the moment. But it was elating to hear Dr. M say, "You look great; you've lost weight" and "Perfect blood work", and to congratulate me for being wise enough to implement her most important survival advice, "Three hours of sweaty exercise a week", by going in to work early each day and pounding it out on the stationary bike. "You work in a fitness center; you have no excuse!" she told me when I whined about it at the previous visit. She also said that my recent loss of the need to nap frequently could be attributed to those morning rides. But then she told me something I didn't expect, that as a participant in a clinical trial, one that has now been unblinded and for which I know I was not a recipient of the experimental drug, I will need to have follow up visits every 3 months, despite also showing a continued relationship with Ned (No Evidence of Disease). I have to admit as she was apologizing for the disruption this will cause, I found myself feeling pleased with the news. I hope the pre-visit trepidation I experienced this time will decrease as time goes on with future sessions, but I like getting to see the doc frequently.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Wow....
written late at night 4/28/12-I couldn't get it to publish, I don't know why, and it's been gone when I've looked for it her over the past couple of months, but here it is again...funny....
The past few months have been a whirlwind. Moving Mom here from California in October, trying to get her hooked up into the Vanderbilt medical system as I know it is the best and she has had such fragmented care in CA. I thought I had time, I thought the surgery to revise her ventriculo-peritoneal shunt on Thursday was the right thing to do and although I know that ALL surgery holds the risk of death, she seemed so vital, so tenacious, that I never even pondered that she would die of this experience. She seemed appropriately groggy after the surgery, a little less oriented the next day but I really never even thought that this could be her end. Ah Mommy....you always kept me on my toes. You gave me gifts that I love about myself and you allowed me to see shining examples of what and who I do and do not wish to be. I am in shock. I miss my mother, but I have been missing her for months now...missing the phone calls that used to be sure to irritate me. Missing the over-identification with my life and the over-enthusiasm for my activities that freaked me out. Her insatiable desire to surround herself with the things she loved even as she become more and more isolated from people. I have given a large portion of myself to trying to champion her needs and on attempting to intervene in situations that so frequently left her in need of assistance, unable to help herself out of a tight spot. Heck, I'm sure that's something that can happen to anyone but it started happening to me when I was a little kid and there was no other adult in the house so I felt it my duty to try to grow up fast. I've never been able to shake it. And now, I will have to reinvent myself as a girl who does not have an ill mother who is also a force of nature, a creative dervish and a magnetic spirit. I'm on my own now as far as that goes. Lucky to still have my other mother to comfort me, my father to counsel and console me. My sister to share my grief, my dear husband to shepherd me and commiserate. My friends to gather round me. I'm a sad and lucky girl in mourning for Charmaine. 1/21/38-4/28/12.
The past few months have been a whirlwind. Moving Mom here from California in October, trying to get her hooked up into the Vanderbilt medical system as I know it is the best and she has had such fragmented care in CA. I thought I had time, I thought the surgery to revise her ventriculo-peritoneal shunt on Thursday was the right thing to do and although I know that ALL surgery holds the risk of death, she seemed so vital, so tenacious, that I never even pondered that she would die of this experience. She seemed appropriately groggy after the surgery, a little less oriented the next day but I really never even thought that this could be her end. Ah Mommy....you always kept me on my toes. You gave me gifts that I love about myself and you allowed me to see shining examples of what and who I do and do not wish to be. I am in shock. I miss my mother, but I have been missing her for months now...missing the phone calls that used to be sure to irritate me. Missing the over-identification with my life and the over-enthusiasm for my activities that freaked me out. Her insatiable desire to surround herself with the things she loved even as she become more and more isolated from people. I have given a large portion of myself to trying to champion her needs and on attempting to intervene in situations that so frequently left her in need of assistance, unable to help herself out of a tight spot. Heck, I'm sure that's something that can happen to anyone but it started happening to me when I was a little kid and there was no other adult in the house so I felt it my duty to try to grow up fast. I've never been able to shake it. And now, I will have to reinvent myself as a girl who does not have an ill mother who is also a force of nature, a creative dervish and a magnetic spirit. I'm on my own now as far as that goes. Lucky to still have my other mother to comfort me, my father to counsel and console me. My sister to share my grief, my dear husband to shepherd me and commiserate. My friends to gather round me. I'm a sad and lucky girl in mourning for Charmaine. 1/21/38-4/28/12.
Last Friday
I am writing practically nonstop these days, but obviously not much of it here. I have so many projects on my plate-too many! I'm managing to stay fairly calm behind all of it, and remind myself of the need for inner peace every day. Forgoing yoga at the moment to avoid public emotional evisceration, I have found a wonderful QiGong/Tai Chi class at the local YMCA, taught by an acupuncturist who discusses the traditional Chinese Medicine aspects of our activities during the exercises; right up my alley! That will help me on the way to becoming ready to return to yoga, and I hope I will continue with both.
Last Friday was a very nice day, hectic but rewarding at work and then I met up for dinner with a fascinating woman I met at a breast cancer support group. I don't do much of that support group thing, but this one, for the ABC program which stands for After Breast Cancer at the YMCA is one that I support in my work and I have been the beneficiary of for its free personal training and nutritional counseling, and the meeting that I attended when I met my new friend was "spa night" and well worth going. The best part though was S. who is a woman in the middle of her journey through treatment, a physician herself, beautiful, fit, smart, and with basically the very same diagnosis as I had. Triple negative, early stage, left sided. So much in common although so far apart culturally. She a Caribbean, I a California Jew. It was gratifying to me to have some opportunity to offer some experience, to hopefully smooth some of the challenges facing my new friend. It's amazing how soothing it is to be able to, from time to time, offer someone a tip that makes their experience just a tiny bit easier. And when it's a person that you really want to get to know, it's that much better. It didn't even occur to me to suggest that she might want to read this blog, but I will next time I talk to her. That was the impetus for starting this anyway, the idea that someone sometime might have a similar path to walk and need a bit of a road map. I wish I could have found one when I was initially facing my health challenges.
Later on Friday night, we went to a birthday party at the home of a friend who travels so much that we never get to see her. Lots of our old pals were in attendance, and it was amazing to meet up with the crew, and sadly unsurprising to hear of many newly diagnosed cancer survivors among them, and to hear of those who have not made it while we have been busy working on our own survival. Every day another miracle; waking up is one.
Last Friday was a very nice day, hectic but rewarding at work and then I met up for dinner with a fascinating woman I met at a breast cancer support group. I don't do much of that support group thing, but this one, for the ABC program which stands for After Breast Cancer at the YMCA is one that I support in my work and I have been the beneficiary of for its free personal training and nutritional counseling, and the meeting that I attended when I met my new friend was "spa night" and well worth going. The best part though was S. who is a woman in the middle of her journey through treatment, a physician herself, beautiful, fit, smart, and with basically the very same diagnosis as I had. Triple negative, early stage, left sided. So much in common although so far apart culturally. She a Caribbean, I a California Jew. It was gratifying to me to have some opportunity to offer some experience, to hopefully smooth some of the challenges facing my new friend. It's amazing how soothing it is to be able to, from time to time, offer someone a tip that makes their experience just a tiny bit easier. And when it's a person that you really want to get to know, it's that much better. It didn't even occur to me to suggest that she might want to read this blog, but I will next time I talk to her. That was the impetus for starting this anyway, the idea that someone sometime might have a similar path to walk and need a bit of a road map. I wish I could have found one when I was initially facing my health challenges.
Later on Friday night, we went to a birthday party at the home of a friend who travels so much that we never get to see her. Lots of our old pals were in attendance, and it was amazing to meet up with the crew, and sadly unsurprising to hear of many newly diagnosed cancer survivors among them, and to hear of those who have not made it while we have been busy working on our own survival. Every day another miracle; waking up is one.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Yoga for the soul-I need a break
I've been absent lately as I have been processing both emotionally and business-wise my mother's death. Having held her hand as she left her body, I feel a strange peace about the dying process, but a profound sense of loss that encompasses my life totally; grief for lost loved ones, for lost body-parts, career and life focus, ambition....a laundry list of loss. And I thought the loss of time to practice and attend yoga class was one of those griefs, but I find now that every time I try to go, I end up feeling as if I've been cracked open like a soft-boiled egg and my insides are slowly sliding out, tears flowing, sobs unable to be contained. It's embarassing and then also draining and interferes with further plans for the day. Today it was crushing; I could barely drive home for the sobs wracking me after the class. And I realized that I have to stop. I need to refocus, try a different approach to mental and physical fitness, at least for now. I feel such a weight of responsibility this summer, with my financial commitments to my mother's estate, my own home finances, my upcoming presentation at the conference I will attend in early September...I will wait until after that to return to yoga classes. And I'll hope that approach will reset the feedback loop and I'll be able to have a new response. Because I don't want my yoga practice to be another loss to grieve.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Nausea and frustration
Boy am I ever tired of this one-thing-after-the-other mild illness. When I was feeling slow and punky this morning, I assumed that it was due to having a bit too much fun last night with friends who came for dinner, giving me the chance I've missed for so long now to cook for friends. We drank 2 bottles of Spanish Cava between the two of us girls, the guys sticking to beer, and I don't think I drank a whole bottle myself, but maybe, and that would certainly hang me over after not drinking that much in a long time. I did notice my belly actually hurting a couple of times yesterday, feeling a bit "knotted up" and tight, not nauseous but not as hungry as I had expected to be for the Paella I made. This morning, after my workout which I had to really work at in an unusual way, I found myself feeling woozy and during my first patient, I was genuinely afraid that I was going to have to excuse myself to vomit. Had that hyper-salivation, starting-to-heave feeling that usually preceeds hurling in my experience. Somehow, I managed to fight it down. I focused on drinking hot strong Irish Breakfast tea in between patients and skipped lunch save a white roll that the guy at Dunkin' Donuts gave me for free when I looked a bit green at the prospect of a "cheezy bagel twist" upon the news that they were out of plain bagels. Tonight, a piece of cold chicken breast and some cold plain pasta made dinner. I was hungry while still nauseous. Go figure. My belly is making some pretty odd noises. We'll see how the night goes.
I wonder if it has anything to do with the news that a friend from my days as a singing waitress, a woman who was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer about a year or two before me, passed away yesterday. C didn't do chemo at first, when she was originally diagnosed, and tried some experimental treatments. I called her the night before I was to start chemo and her stories of her experiences freaked me out. I was happy that she reached out to me but unable to bravely stand up and woman up and continue talking with her. Can't even remember now what exactly she said that was so upsetting to me. And when she had her recurrance I couldn't bear to follow her journey as it was a bit too close. I think she was stage 3 at original diagnosis, I was stage 2, I did chemo asap, she didn't, so there are differences. I'm holding on to that and sending good thoughts and heartfelt wishes out into the world for support to her family and loved ones, and for my own continued survival.
I wonder if it has anything to do with the news that a friend from my days as a singing waitress, a woman who was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer about a year or two before me, passed away yesterday. C didn't do chemo at first, when she was originally diagnosed, and tried some experimental treatments. I called her the night before I was to start chemo and her stories of her experiences freaked me out. I was happy that she reached out to me but unable to bravely stand up and woman up and continue talking with her. Can't even remember now what exactly she said that was so upsetting to me. And when she had her recurrance I couldn't bear to follow her journey as it was a bit too close. I think she was stage 3 at original diagnosis, I was stage 2, I did chemo asap, she didn't, so there are differences. I'm holding on to that and sending good thoughts and heartfelt wishes out into the world for support to her family and loved ones, and for my own continued survival.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
All's well
The survivorship struggle includes a lot of features, some beautiful, some very bleak. Among the beauties are the deep appreciation of small treats, like the taste and texture of a fine chocolate or the dazzle of a full moon, greatly enhanced over the pre-diagnosis experience, and the relishing of sensory delights including hot baths, tempting aromas, the soft warm sensation of my dog's head resting on my leg. The less lovely aspects that one carries are the fears that can be elicited by every little bump, or new skin growth, or a series of minor health such as I've gone through over the last 3 months, challenges that might be interpretted as a recurrance, a metastisis, or a new cancer. Well, this afternoon the docs agreed that the bump on the right breast, palpable by all but undetectible on ultrasound, is just a feature of the implant. Nothing, nothing at all, to worry about. And with that news, my energy rises like the response to a blast of an illegal drug. It's Thursday night, tomorrow TGIF. My cold is waning, my friends are coming for dinner on Sunday, all is right with the world. In my home, anyway.
Long hard day at work
Written 2/15/12
It didn't look like a hard day just by glancing at the schedule. We even had a break for MBSR training and had a chance to relax, do some Qi Gong, and I got to eat lunch at the Indian Buffett, which was a treat. But the afternoon just basically fell apart, with a no-show, a conference call that at least went as planned, and then lastly a patient who had not been in for a month who was agitated and responded very poorly to my attempts to elicit some plans for improvement in her condition. I tried to employ some of the techniques that we've worked on in Health Coaching and it really backfired on me, with the patient getting off the table before treatment began and walking out stating that she's not sure if she will come back.
I could go on and on about the details of the visit and examine every question I posed to the patient and every response on either side, and I've certainly done that in my mind all night and with no satisfactory revelations, so there is no point in focusing on that here. But I'm going to have to figure out how to respond to this-who is to contact the patient, what are we to offer her, how do I handle the documentation-and I must sythesize the lessons there for me to learn from this, unclear as they are at the moment.
The most difficult factor for me in the situation is that I REALLY LIKE this patient and had hoped that we would become friends. I feel quite fond of her and sympathetic to what it must be like to go through the cancer expereience as she has while raising 3 kids. I guess I'll figure out the lessons soon, but I'm mourning the experience today.
I have also found a small bump on the medial aspect of my right reconstructed breast and have to go in to have it looked at today. Although I'm mostly very calm about that and am quite sure that it is benign, whatever it is, I'm going to feel a lot better about that this evening, and can't help anticipating a long day at the breast center. And the beat goes on....
It didn't look like a hard day just by glancing at the schedule. We even had a break for MBSR training and had a chance to relax, do some Qi Gong, and I got to eat lunch at the Indian Buffett, which was a treat. But the afternoon just basically fell apart, with a no-show, a conference call that at least went as planned, and then lastly a patient who had not been in for a month who was agitated and responded very poorly to my attempts to elicit some plans for improvement in her condition. I tried to employ some of the techniques that we've worked on in Health Coaching and it really backfired on me, with the patient getting off the table before treatment began and walking out stating that she's not sure if she will come back.
I could go on and on about the details of the visit and examine every question I posed to the patient and every response on either side, and I've certainly done that in my mind all night and with no satisfactory revelations, so there is no point in focusing on that here. But I'm going to have to figure out how to respond to this-who is to contact the patient, what are we to offer her, how do I handle the documentation-and I must sythesize the lessons there for me to learn from this, unclear as they are at the moment.
The most difficult factor for me in the situation is that I REALLY LIKE this patient and had hoped that we would become friends. I feel quite fond of her and sympathetic to what it must be like to go through the cancer expereience as she has while raising 3 kids. I guess I'll figure out the lessons soon, but I'm mourning the experience today.
I have also found a small bump on the medial aspect of my right reconstructed breast and have to go in to have it looked at today. Although I'm mostly very calm about that and am quite sure that it is benign, whatever it is, I'm going to feel a lot better about that this evening, and can't help anticipating a long day at the breast center. And the beat goes on....
Friday, January 6, 2012
Is it hot in here, or is it just me?
Written Wednesday January 4th
I realized shortly after my mother's stroke that I would be in danger if I allowed myself to continue as high-anxiety over the various property dealings and stresses surrounding her care as I initially allowed myself to be, and I thought that I had gotten it under control. But ever since I returned from California, I've been plagued with health blips, one on the heels of the other. First, tonsillitis that came home with me from L.A. and wouldn't leave, then the flu, and now this recurrent bout of pelvic pain. Despite my Zen aspirations, I remain very frightened every time I have any kind of persistent new symptom. My fear of anything indicating a possible recurrence or metastasis drives my anxiety despite my attempts to tell myself to be in the present, focusing on what is right and well and functioning normally, and expect to heal normally. To see these recent health dips as just part of the rhythm of life. Gotta stop freaking out and live the way I envision myself living, the way the me-in-my-mind lives.
I never used to like medication, but I'm glad to have some tonight. It's probably either a bladder infection or a kidney stone. Either way, it's a lot better with meds.
I realized shortly after my mother's stroke that I would be in danger if I allowed myself to continue as high-anxiety over the various property dealings and stresses surrounding her care as I initially allowed myself to be, and I thought that I had gotten it under control. But ever since I returned from California, I've been plagued with health blips, one on the heels of the other. First, tonsillitis that came home with me from L.A. and wouldn't leave, then the flu, and now this recurrent bout of pelvic pain. Despite my Zen aspirations, I remain very frightened every time I have any kind of persistent new symptom. My fear of anything indicating a possible recurrence or metastasis drives my anxiety despite my attempts to tell myself to be in the present, focusing on what is right and well and functioning normally, and expect to heal normally. To see these recent health dips as just part of the rhythm of life. Gotta stop freaking out and live the way I envision myself living, the way the me-in-my-mind lives.
I never used to like medication, but I'm glad to have some tonight. It's probably either a bladder infection or a kidney stone. Either way, it's a lot better with meds.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Happy Freaking New Year
I am so glad to welcome 2012. Ready for a great year, and always trying to become more calm, more Zen, more able to appreciate the wonderful things in my life that often get overlooked while trying to just keep up with everyday details.
I started having some really intense bladder pain on Friday evening; not the usual burning on urination that usually accompanies a bladder infection but spasms and pressure and actual pain. I think it was an exacerbation of interstitial cystitis, which hasn't bothered me in ages, but after eating lots of chocolate and drinking far too little water and more coffee than usual over the holidays, I assume I aggravated my bladder. Spent the day Saturday preparing for our party and drinking tons of Evian and a homeopathic remedy and the strategy seemed to work for me, but I didn't do the midnight champagne thing. I felt enough better by yesterday to enjoy a little wine at my party but am ready to back off the celebratory eating and drinking and get back to my usual constraints anyway. Up early and off to work again tomorrow.
Seems like there is so much illness all around me...every time I take any time to peruse Facebook, which is rare, I find that some friend of mine has had a major health event or has passed away. This time of year it seems that the reports increase. It's hard to keep my spirits up over the holidays, and I'm trying not to fall into an expectation of bad news when the season rolls around. This time, I'm feeling really grateful that although my father has been recently diagnosed with Lymphoma, his pathology indicates a form of the disease that people generally manage well and that doesn't require treatment. That's my attempt to make lemonade here, and to try to focus on the positive. I know Dad is scared, and of course I know first hand how hard it is to reconcile that news that Cancer of any form is now part of one's health history. It's a shock, and an emotional experience that requires several stages of assimilation, like grief. I hope that he is able to achieve some peace about the diagnosis and not to focus on the fear-factor. So many of us are surviving with cancer and living quality lives. I just hate for him that he had to join the survival team of our family; guess he couldn't stand to be left out!
I took lunch to my mother in the nursing home today. She seemed to enjoy the meal and the visit. I had a lot of sadness this weekend, missing being able to call her to chat, even though those conversations were often frustrating. During those calls, at least we were able to converse with ease, which is no longer possible, and phone calls these days are almost pointless for me; as I am nearby and able, it's much better to visit in person. These days, both on the phone and in person, she doesn't say much, but she says that she is happy. Lord knows that makes me happy. Happy New Year, everyone.
I started having some really intense bladder pain on Friday evening; not the usual burning on urination that usually accompanies a bladder infection but spasms and pressure and actual pain. I think it was an exacerbation of interstitial cystitis, which hasn't bothered me in ages, but after eating lots of chocolate and drinking far too little water and more coffee than usual over the holidays, I assume I aggravated my bladder. Spent the day Saturday preparing for our party and drinking tons of Evian and a homeopathic remedy and the strategy seemed to work for me, but I didn't do the midnight champagne thing. I felt enough better by yesterday to enjoy a little wine at my party but am ready to back off the celebratory eating and drinking and get back to my usual constraints anyway. Up early and off to work again tomorrow.
Seems like there is so much illness all around me...every time I take any time to peruse Facebook, which is rare, I find that some friend of mine has had a major health event or has passed away. This time of year it seems that the reports increase. It's hard to keep my spirits up over the holidays, and I'm trying not to fall into an expectation of bad news when the season rolls around. This time, I'm feeling really grateful that although my father has been recently diagnosed with Lymphoma, his pathology indicates a form of the disease that people generally manage well and that doesn't require treatment. That's my attempt to make lemonade here, and to try to focus on the positive. I know Dad is scared, and of course I know first hand how hard it is to reconcile that news that Cancer of any form is now part of one's health history. It's a shock, and an emotional experience that requires several stages of assimilation, like grief. I hope that he is able to achieve some peace about the diagnosis and not to focus on the fear-factor. So many of us are surviving with cancer and living quality lives. I just hate for him that he had to join the survival team of our family; guess he couldn't stand to be left out!
I took lunch to my mother in the nursing home today. She seemed to enjoy the meal and the visit. I had a lot of sadness this weekend, missing being able to call her to chat, even though those conversations were often frustrating. During those calls, at least we were able to converse with ease, which is no longer possible, and phone calls these days are almost pointless for me; as I am nearby and able, it's much better to visit in person. These days, both on the phone and in person, she doesn't say much, but she says that she is happy. Lord knows that makes me happy. Happy New Year, everyone.
End of year blues
written on Friday, 12/30/11
It was a beautiful morning, and wonderful to sleep in at least a little and have a day off of work, at least at the office...there was plenty of work to do around here preparing for New Year's Day and our almost-annual open house. And trying to tie up some loose ends with my mother's needs, working on her Medicare elections for next year and finding myself preoccupied thinking about her health status after a call from the doctor at the facility yesterday telling me that her kidneys are declining. I myself am due for a colonoscopy but will have to reschedule the appointment coming up in January so that I can miss no more than one work day as I need to save my sick days to deal with Mom's doctor appointments. It all ganged up on me while navigating the traffic during shopping and I really started feeling anxious and blue. The pressure of needing to get things done by a certain time, of dealing with bureaucracies and worrying whether anyone will show up for our party.
It was a beautiful morning, and wonderful to sleep in at least a little and have a day off of work, at least at the office...there was plenty of work to do around here preparing for New Year's Day and our almost-annual open house. And trying to tie up some loose ends with my mother's needs, working on her Medicare elections for next year and finding myself preoccupied thinking about her health status after a call from the doctor at the facility yesterday telling me that her kidneys are declining. I myself am due for a colonoscopy but will have to reschedule the appointment coming up in January so that I can miss no more than one work day as I need to save my sick days to deal with Mom's doctor appointments. It all ganged up on me while navigating the traffic during shopping and I really started feeling anxious and blue. The pressure of needing to get things done by a certain time, of dealing with bureaucracies and worrying whether anyone will show up for our party.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
our very own Thanksgiving day
I love the Thanksgiving tradition-the gatherings, expressions of gratitude for the sweetness of life and the shared feast-but I especially love the indulgence of a full day, or several days, of cooking, eating until I nearly pop, and knowing that there are leftovers galore to lead to turkey sandwiches, tetrazzini, hash, soup....there's a full-fridge factor that is deeply satisfying, and which I haven't had on the official day in a few years. Last year it was my health, this year it's my mom's, and the drive to do the dinner overwhelmed me when I saw a likely looking little turkey while out grocery shopping last week. So around here, in addition to the lovely day we spent joining the W family the evening after I returned from L.A., it was the 1st Saturday of December serving as Thanksgiving as well as the 4th Thursday of November.
It was a lovely warm day around 60 degrees, and I took Mom in her wheelchair out into the garden at the Courtyard where she is living. We sat in the sun for awhile and listened to the numerous bird songs providing the soundtrack. She seems less agitated by her situation over the last several days than she had back in L.A.; I hope that's an accurate impression, as there is no way to be sure from what she tells me that I'm getting it right. But she smiles a lot, and the ladies in her unit who share a table in the common room seem friendly. At the moment, it looks like she'll have to stay in skilled nursing for the foreseeable future as she is seeming less and less able to move independently. I'm trying to get a neurological workup scheduled for her, and she has one with an independent group scheduled for January, but I'm trying to get her in at Vanderbilt. Still many phone calls to make and papers to fax. The tasks are never ending, but the doing of them is less daunting with her nearby and having the opportunity to observe what is occurring.
It always seems like a crazy idea to make a whole holiday turkey dinner for two (I've done it before!), but although it was just the 2 of us tonight, I'll bring a plate to my mom tomorrow. Just a little something to share the season in a personal way. There's no way I can have her come to my home with the level of debilitation she's reached, and I'm trying not to give up hope that this can change for the better, but I'm not seeing any signs of it so far. So we do what we can do, and a picnic basket of home made holiday meal is within our power.
It was a lovely warm day around 60 degrees, and I took Mom in her wheelchair out into the garden at the Courtyard where she is living. We sat in the sun for awhile and listened to the numerous bird songs providing the soundtrack. She seems less agitated by her situation over the last several days than she had back in L.A.; I hope that's an accurate impression, as there is no way to be sure from what she tells me that I'm getting it right. But she smiles a lot, and the ladies in her unit who share a table in the common room seem friendly. At the moment, it looks like she'll have to stay in skilled nursing for the foreseeable future as she is seeming less and less able to move independently. I'm trying to get a neurological workup scheduled for her, and she has one with an independent group scheduled for January, but I'm trying to get her in at Vanderbilt. Still many phone calls to make and papers to fax. The tasks are never ending, but the doing of them is less daunting with her nearby and having the opportunity to observe what is occurring.
It always seems like a crazy idea to make a whole holiday turkey dinner for two (I've done it before!), but although it was just the 2 of us tonight, I'll bring a plate to my mom tomorrow. Just a little something to share the season in a personal way. There's no way I can have her come to my home with the level of debilitation she's reached, and I'm trying not to give up hope that this can change for the better, but I'm not seeing any signs of it so far. So we do what we can do, and a picnic basket of home made holiday meal is within our power.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
How I got here
I started this blog when I thought I might have ovarian cancer. There were signs tht this could be the case, after a long-stable cyst suddenly doubled in size and with my family history, so it qseemed a reasonable fear. When I decided to have the ovaries removed, a bilateral salpingo oopherectomy or BSO, i could not find any information the Internet regarding how other women with similar experiences had fared, I figured that my musings could prove informative to some one in the future facing a similar proceedure. That surgery ended up being uneventful and the subsequent hormonal repercussions minimal, and with the soon to follow baraast cancer diagnosis I continued to write about my thoughts and feelings through treatment with the continued hope of making sense of my own experience while perhaps offering something helpful to someone facing the same bad news and course of treatment.
The last few months, my own health is stable and I have been focused on my mother's. At some points that focus has become so consuming that it has threatened to compromise my ability to maintain my recently regained healthy status, but I'm getting it under control now. I literally haven't had time to write, despite the casual approach I take to this blog. Now that Mom is here in Nashville, I am able to help with her care in a way that requires less time and effort, and is generally less stressful, so I'm hoping to return to writing. It's been a very eventful time and whether or not anyone else is interested I want to record these events just in case I someday want to review the sequence of events or my thoughts at the time.
Still, it's been a long day and that's all in got for now...still learning how to type on the iPad, too. G'night.
The last few months, my own health is stable and I have been focused on my mother's. At some points that focus has become so consuming that it has threatened to compromise my ability to maintain my recently regained healthy status, but I'm getting it under control now. I literally haven't had time to write, despite the casual approach I take to this blog. Now that Mom is here in Nashville, I am able to help with her care in a way that requires less time and effort, and is generally less stressful, so I'm hoping to return to writing. It's been a very eventful time and whether or not anyone else is interested I want to record these events just in case I someday want to review the sequence of events or my thoughts at the time.
Still, it's been a long day and that's all in got for now...still learning how to type on the iPad, too. G'night.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Out of Italy and into the fire...
Well, I'm thrilled to be able to say that we did indeed have our vacation. It was amazing. And I thought up until the last moment that something was going to arise to prevent the fulfillment of the dream of this trip. In fact, one hour before we were to be picked up to go to the airport, Xena ran around a corner, slipped and yelped and turned out to have pulled off a rear toenail. I tried to doctor it myself but the nerve was exposed and she wouldn't let me touch it. So off to the vet, with me promising Dave as we walked out the door that I would leave her there if waiting for treatment would have made me late for our ride. The vet bandaged the foot, gave me a course of antibiotics to have her take twice daily for a week, I called the housesitter to give her the lowdown, and off to the airport we went, right on time.
The first flight was delayed and we had to run when we hit the Charlotte airport to get on our airbus to ride to Rome. It was one hell of a stressful day, but we did make it, and although our flight crew was quite unpleasant and our fellow passengers loud and obnoxious, proving that the "airbus" is aptly named, we did arrive the next morning in Rome, finding our charming deco-era hotel a block up Via Cavour, across from the station, in the heart of wonderful central Rome. Arriving too early for our room to be ready, the hotel treated us to a round of drinks in the roof garden bar where we could gaze from our Pallatine hill vantage point out on the Collosium and domes and spires all over Rome.
Back at work today, I'm dealing with medical issues concerning my mother in between patients. She's been back in the hospital since last Monday, one week, so the vacation is truly over. I'm very glad we came home in time for me to rest a bit before returning to work, even if I have had to spend much time on the phone dealing with this situation.
I'll try to continue to record some remembrances of the trip each day. I wanted to keep a journal of the journey, but I often find while traveling that I'm way too busy being there to allow time to write about it. Will upload some of the pix we took as well. Can't wait for the next time! I had no idea just how badly I needed that vacation.
The first flight was delayed and we had to run when we hit the Charlotte airport to get on our airbus to ride to Rome. It was one hell of a stressful day, but we did make it, and although our flight crew was quite unpleasant and our fellow passengers loud and obnoxious, proving that the "airbus" is aptly named, we did arrive the next morning in Rome, finding our charming deco-era hotel a block up Via Cavour, across from the station, in the heart of wonderful central Rome. Arriving too early for our room to be ready, the hotel treated us to a round of drinks in the roof garden bar where we could gaze from our Pallatine hill vantage point out on the Collosium and domes and spires all over Rome.
Back at work today, I'm dealing with medical issues concerning my mother in between patients. She's been back in the hospital since last Monday, one week, so the vacation is truly over. I'm very glad we came home in time for me to rest a bit before returning to work, even if I have had to spend much time on the phone dealing with this situation.
I'll try to continue to record some remembrances of the trip each day. I wanted to keep a journal of the journey, but I often find while traveling that I'm way too busy being there to allow time to write about it. Will upload some of the pix we took as well. Can't wait for the next time! I had no idea just how badly I needed that vacation.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Just can't bear it right now
I have had a few messages asking why I haven't written in so long. My mom had a stroke a month ago. I miss my blog, but can't bear to write right now. Too much emotion with others involved, too many people who may be hurt by my expression of my own feelings, and I just can't write while self editing to this degree. More when the crisis is over. I'm continuing to write in the meantime, but not posting right now. Hope all are well. I've been having a hard time remembering all the positive messages I fed myself during cancer treatment, but try to remind myself each time I wake or lay down to sleep, that every good day is a good day, but cross-country medical emergencies make it hard to find the happy moments. I'm working on it.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Article
http://www.vicc.org/news/2011/06/moving-on/
This article appeared in our cancer center's monthly magazine. I'm in there.
Tomato Time
Despite my terror of ticks and my extreme allergy to mosquitoes, I manage to plant a small garden each summer. Just a tiny tomato patch and this year a 2 by 4 foot herb garden in which a few cherry tomato volunteers have sprouted vigorously enough that I didn't have the heart to pull them. All the plants are loaded with green fruit and have been for weeks, with nothing beginning to pink out. This is late for the persistence of premature produce, usually I have begun my harvest by this time of year.
Local farmer's markets make up for my tardy garden however, and the luscious, giant heirloom tomato beauties contribute to an over-sized bowl of Sugo Cruda, a recipe I got years ago from Beppe Gambetta and that we gorge on every summer. With dishes like this and the various salads I've been making lately, I have no trouble getting my daily 5 cups of fruits and veggies. A diet low in animal protein and high in fresh produce, along with 30 minutes of exercise daily, is supposed to promote health. And I'm getting all of it, along with lots of green tea and supplements and sleep and fun, but I still stress slightly over the pain in my right hip that has bothered me for a few months, and every bug bite, and anything that might be a symptom that could possibly indicate illness. I truly believe that I am cured and am healthy and in the process of living the second half of my long glowing life, but nagging nervousness creeps in despite my best intentions to maintain a positive outlook. I do maintain it, but have to occasionally take on the doubt. Surely that is a normal, healthy response to factors that could indeed be fear-worthy. So, having these fleeting fears must be another indicator that I am healthy, right?
Local farmer's markets make up for my tardy garden however, and the luscious, giant heirloom tomato beauties contribute to an over-sized bowl of Sugo Cruda, a recipe I got years ago from Beppe Gambetta and that we gorge on every summer. With dishes like this and the various salads I've been making lately, I have no trouble getting my daily 5 cups of fruits and veggies. A diet low in animal protein and high in fresh produce, along with 30 minutes of exercise daily, is supposed to promote health. And I'm getting all of it, along with lots of green tea and supplements and sleep and fun, but I still stress slightly over the pain in my right hip that has bothered me for a few months, and every bug bite, and anything that might be a symptom that could possibly indicate illness. I truly believe that I am cured and am healthy and in the process of living the second half of my long glowing life, but nagging nervousness creeps in despite my best intentions to maintain a positive outlook. I do maintain it, but have to occasionally take on the doubt. Surely that is a normal, healthy response to factors that could indeed be fear-worthy. So, having these fleeting fears must be another indicator that I am healthy, right?
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