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.
Monday, February 20, 2012
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.
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