Monday, November 13, 2006
The one-two punch
Today I got chemo and radiation. How’d it go, you ask? Not bad. The radiation is very quick, and the new chemo regimen takes 2 hours, rather than 4. Some things didn't change: I still have to "donate" blood for the lab, and I still get weighed, and I still get an IV for the happy juice. I don’t like being stuck for bloodwork, and I don’t like getting stuck for an IV. After radiation, my chest feels very heavy, achy; like there's a weight on it, and I cough more. It's hard to breathe, and it's hard to talk sometimes. (Yeah, y'all enjoy that!) It's almost like the tumor is trying to move and get away from the zapper. I know it’s all for the greater good, but this journey is emotionally and physically draining. I tend to get frustrated at the constant fatigue, but, tough nuggets, I'll just have to hang in there for a while longer. (No, I haven’t lied to y’all, I just post on the days when I feel good.) On the other hand, I do feel OK most days. Most days.
I have lots of apprehension--I've never had cancer before. There are so many unknowns (at least to me), and while I’m assuming that these medical pros know what they’re doing, I have no proof that they actually do. (When you’re told that you have treatable cancer, you tend to take their word for it; it’s not like you shop around for cheap treatments!) So I have no references, no happy customers, who are glad to recommend my doctors and their treatment procedures. I have to follow their advice blindly, which always scares me just a little. Yes, my doctors and their staff always inform me of what’s going on, what’s coming up, and what to expect. They are kind and gentle and don’t roll their eyes when I ask the same question for the 15th time. (Hey, I have chemo brain and can’t remember squat anymore. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) I guess I just want someone to guarantee (yes, guarantee) that at the end of this adventure that I’ll be healthy and well, and this entire ordeal will be permanently over, and that I’ll live long enough to enjoy my children having teenagers. What I’m learning is that there are no guarantees. Good lesson for me.
But I’m sure hoping to see my kids have those teenagers. Hehe!
Thanks for being here. Knowing that my cheering squad is here, right here, fighting the good fight with me is quite a comfort. Thanks. ¶ 4:27 PM
Today I got chemo and radiation. How’d it go, you ask? Not bad. The radiation is very quick, and the new chemo regimen takes 2 hours, rather than 4. Some things didn't change: I still have to "donate" blood for the lab, and I still get weighed, and I still get an IV for the happy juice. I don’t like being stuck for bloodwork, and I don’t like getting stuck for an IV. After radiation, my chest feels very heavy, achy; like there's a weight on it, and I cough more. It's hard to breathe, and it's hard to talk sometimes. (Yeah, y'all enjoy that!) It's almost like the tumor is trying to move and get away from the zapper. I know it’s all for the greater good, but this journey is emotionally and physically draining. I tend to get frustrated at the constant fatigue, but, tough nuggets, I'll just have to hang in there for a while longer. (No, I haven’t lied to y’all, I just post on the days when I feel good.) On the other hand, I do feel OK most days. Most days.
I have lots of apprehension--I've never had cancer before. There are so many unknowns (at least to me), and while I’m assuming that these medical pros know what they’re doing, I have no proof that they actually do. (When you’re told that you have treatable cancer, you tend to take their word for it; it’s not like you shop around for cheap treatments!) So I have no references, no happy customers, who are glad to recommend my doctors and their treatment procedures. I have to follow their advice blindly, which always scares me just a little. Yes, my doctors and their staff always inform me of what’s going on, what’s coming up, and what to expect. They are kind and gentle and don’t roll their eyes when I ask the same question for the 15th time. (Hey, I have chemo brain and can’t remember squat anymore. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) I guess I just want someone to guarantee (yes, guarantee) that at the end of this adventure that I’ll be healthy and well, and this entire ordeal will be permanently over, and that I’ll live long enough to enjoy my children having teenagers. What I’m learning is that there are no guarantees. Good lesson for me.
But I’m sure hoping to see my kids have those teenagers. Hehe!
Thanks for being here. Knowing that my cheering squad is here, right here, fighting the good fight with me is quite a comfort. Thanks. ¶ 4:27 PM
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Dear Margaret -
A one-two punch? Who's kidding who here? You remind me of a toy my brothers got for Christmas many, many years ago. It was a blow-up punching bag of a clown and no matter how you hit it - slow, fast, soft or hard - it just bounced back up smiling at you.
This is how Sklppy is seeing you. No matter what he is throwing at you, you are just bouncing back up and laughing at him.
Yes I know that 'bouncing' may not be an accurate description from your point of view, especially on a day when even breathing is difficult. Let me assure you that you are a relentless fighter. Just like the toy you continue to come back smiling. Not a smile because your happy, but a smile of satifaction...well-justified, well-deserved satisfaction.
You are an amazing lady and I am so glad to know you.
Love, Jo
A one-two punch? Who's kidding who here? You remind me of a toy my brothers got for Christmas many, many years ago. It was a blow-up punching bag of a clown and no matter how you hit it - slow, fast, soft or hard - it just bounced back up smiling at you.
This is how Sklppy is seeing you. No matter what he is throwing at you, you are just bouncing back up and laughing at him.
Yes I know that 'bouncing' may not be an accurate description from your point of view, especially on a day when even breathing is difficult. Let me assure you that you are a relentless fighter. Just like the toy you continue to come back smiling. Not a smile because your happy, but a smile of satifaction...well-justified, well-deserved satisfaction.
You are an amazing lady and I am so glad to know you.
Love, Jo
# posted by 
: 5:05 PM
: 5:05 PM
We're here, we're rooting for you, and we're not going anywhere! Sounds like this round might be a little more wearing than the last one. Please remember that you have lots of people who are here ready to help you. We are standing by, just waiting for you to tell us what we can do.
Love you,
Molly
Love you,
Molly
# posted by : 5:58 PM
: 5:58 PM
Jo and Molly, (and all of you out there)
Thanks for your comforting words!
It's comments like these and people like you who keep me strong and able to fight this cancer. I'm glad I'm not alone in this battle. (And I'm glad y'all are on MY side!)
Thanks for your comforting words!
It's comments like these and people like you who keep me strong and able to fight this cancer. I'm glad I'm not alone in this battle. (And I'm glad y'all are on MY side!)
Hi, Margaret,
Sometimes we forget, over the the HW/SW blog, the people who aren't posting. Then one day someone says, "Hey, where's Margaret?" or Bryan or Theresa, and we all realize it's been a while. I was glad to see you comment today because, although I bookmarked your blog, well, if you could see my bookmark folder...where the heck did I file that link? You are now in my CherryBomb folder where you belong. ;+)
You are a good example to all of us. Living with day to day aches and pains, or even occasional flare ups of really bad pain, we adjust. But the thought of something life threatening, that's very frightening. And, as you say, one of the really frightening things is that you can only learn so much yourself, you have to take the doc's word for it that they're doing their best. Keep being brave and setting a good example for any of us who wind up going down this road after you.
(((hugs)))
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Sometimes we forget, over the the HW/SW blog, the people who aren't posting. Then one day someone says, "Hey, where's Margaret?" or Bryan or Theresa, and we all realize it's been a while. I was glad to see you comment today because, although I bookmarked your blog, well, if you could see my bookmark folder...where the heck did I file that link? You are now in my CherryBomb folder where you belong. ;+)
You are a good example to all of us. Living with day to day aches and pains, or even occasional flare ups of really bad pain, we adjust. But the thought of something life threatening, that's very frightening. And, as you say, one of the really frightening things is that you can only learn so much yourself, you have to take the doc's word for it that they're doing their best. Keep being brave and setting a good example for any of us who wind up going down this road after you.
(((hugs)))
# posted by : 11:19 AM
: 11:19 AM<< Home
