Just wanted to play with words and feelings....feeling a tad hollow at times and weaning myself from the perception of being supported...
Today I felt better enough to drive myself to the Vitamin C infusion. That is a grand blessing in itself. I now appear to be fighting off a cold because I have been sneezing and my nose is runny. Dang. This makes it impossible for me to take any chances and go into a grocery store, despite being low on many things now that I am up and caring for myself enough to take stock. I'm working on how to resolve this and feel sure I will be able to get someone to go to the store for me in the next day or two. But as for handing out goodies to kids tonight, that just will not be possible as I have nothing here to give.
It's funny all the complexities in life. I buy organic treats for kids and some years I get trick-or-treaters, and other years none. This morning, when I left to go get infused, I found a plastic bag with a printed note and two small treat bags within. The note was from neighbors who have an allergic child. They supplied two bags of treats for their two children and describe how they will appear at the door. Wow. They went through a lot to assure their children would have the experience and be healthy. Gotta appreciate that. It's a fairly short dead-end road and my guess is they will do all their trick-or-treating on this, their own, street. Without anything else to hand out for others, I cannot subject myself to open the door. It all feels kinda strange. Had I felt better sooner, I could have asked someone to pick up some organic candy days ago, but I was in the moment and not at all well....so this is a first. Not gonna turn on the light, the music or open the door. Sigh.
The Vitamin C infusion went well. I watched HGTV and enjoyed the mindlessness of sitting and taking helpful oxygenating vitamin c...known to aid the body in getting over harmful and difficult side effects of chemo, and also to kill ovarian cancer cells in tandum with chemo. I asked my nurse to try to schedule me an appt. with their social worker so that I can try to find out what resources exist in the community to help myself next time. Apparently that will happen next week. I also called my counselor to ask her how to get hooked up with a VA social worker and it was not through her, though she made a good suggestions I will look into on Monday.
Noteworthy to me, in the elevator on my way up to infuse, a women in her 70's began to speak to me. She ended up seeming like she had chemo brain, but told me of her colon cancer and how she had no one to help her. She asked about myself and seemed shocked when I said I also have cancer. I am now wondering how many people go through such a very, very difficult series of treatments and then are trying to care for themselves. I know how it adds to the difficulties to feel a burden or feel helpless or pathetic or feeble. How damn many people are supported by a committed someone or team of someones and how many piece it together marginally, or have not at all the support they need? This question now lingers. Our conversation was moving.
My drive home was one full of reflection and realizations. The trees are rapidly losing leaves and snow is forecast for this weekend. I began to think of all of the illusions I have been under and how when push comes to shove, I have a lot to figure out and implement. I began to imagine myself driving across the country...one week in the not so distant future, and I felt joy. I felt as though no matter what I thought was gonna hopefully happen, I can do this, with strong will and steadfastness. If I have to drive myself and Trooper, I really believe I can! It felt so good to break free from other trails of thought and ideas and to feel my own power. This too shall pass. I have five treatments to go and then I will be mending and moving into a new phase of life. An exciting new phase. Because I know I am going to rebuild my life into what I really want it to be.
Next time I write, maybe I should investigate the correlation between feeling unable to care for ones self and losing optimism. This is a big concept when you go back to how many cancer patients are not able to meet their own needs and how important positivity is to healing. Wow. Big. If you, the reader, are someone who is beginning the road to remission, try now to get your ducks in a row. Get a support team together if you are not in a truly committed relationship or have family that understand the meaning of the word. Be prepared for some friends to tell you they will be there, only to become conspicuously absent. It's tricky. If you are a person who knows someone who has cancer and is struggling with anything that you have the ability to help he or she with, help! Be generous. You are being morally and spiritually tested if you are in that situation. Don't be the kind of person who donates only if there is a tax write-off associated. Show you care in all the ways you can, for the difference you will make will go far beyond that which will be obvious. When a friend of mine phoned a few months ago and told me her sister had cancer, she asked me what she could do to help, I said to her,"If she is hurting financially, help her that way. Because when you are unable to earn what you need to survive, that stress adds its own dimension to the cancer."
I write this blog and wonder, who, if anyone, reads it. I have a friend who tells me she does, but I wonder who stumbles upon it, who begins to read, who fully reads...and does this help anyone but myself therapeutically? If you are a reader and wouldn't mind, please comment.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Thursday, October 30, 2014
BIG SIGH...TWO, Today
Chin up sister, rah rah...sure you can...(I to I)
I've been wanting to write for a while. Like maybe someone will read it and learn and grow or somehow something good will come from going through the process of writing. Where to begin to catch up on what is now fully round 2 of ovarian cancer in my body and life?
Well, after postponing treatment for almost two months so that I could pack and purge and sell, I began experiencing pain. I called the oncology dept and asked for another cancer antigen lab to be ordered and found out that the number was up significantly. Despite doing my best and working as hard as I could to get myself propelled back to CA while shifting my diet radically...cancer grew in me. I no longer recall nor have the energy to cross reference the dates, but sometime not long ago, I learned the CA 125 was up to 168 and I also had pain. I scheduled chemo to begin last Friday, October 24.
The weekend before was spent "busting it out," as I like to say about any time a grand surge of energy is spent accomplishing toward a goal, and a dear cousin flew in from FL to help me to pack and purge and stage. The Friday she arrived, another dear cousin and a dear friend showed up too...and wow, a ton got done! It felt great! There were many other times during the previous two months that tons of work occurred...and also many days spent in the hospital with my elderly mother's health issues. A time of challenge? EXTRAORDINAIRE!
So...lot's of achievement, with rooms staged and a Zillow listing with photos online, then on Thursday, October 23, I wiped blood from vaginal area...and made calls. My surgeon, the true gynecological cancer specialist was the first call. Her office told me they are not my chemo provider and to call the oncologist. They also said if you have a urinary tract infection you will not be starting chemo tomorrow so you need tests to happen and if you can't get your oncologist to do so, call us back. Call two, oncology dept and I tell the telephone respondent of my circumstances. She tells me to come in tomorrow as scheduled for an appt before chemo. I agree, but tell her what the other office conveyed to me and I ask if I will get a call back because I think we need labs. After two hours of hearing nothing, I called my general practitioner, who's nurse social worker has never let me down. I discover, per her voicemail message, that she is gone for the week. So, I leave a message with the familiar-to-me receptionist. I heard back relatively shortly and was ultimately asked to come in and get labs. Mission accomplished. And I got a ride, too. The whole trip with labs took less than an hour. Hooray.
Friday morning I got up and went in for the appt with oncologist. Now, granted, this oncologist is new to me and so far I had decided to not go right into chemo with aggressive ovarian cancer. We do not have the benefit of a relationship, so she likely has an attitude about me and how I make choices. And maybe one day I will write more about putting the treatment off and the dilemmas and difficulties. So damn many. Anyhow, the oncologist saw me, listened and stated the labs came back ok. After the appt and my signing release forms, I walked to the infusion room. Gotta love how that sounds....almost intriguing.
I entered the infusion room and almost immediately heard a voice ask, "Aren't you from Galeville?"
I turned and said,"Yes" and she continued, "You lived on Buckley and I on Ferncliff." Well that got my attention and I looked her in the eyes and WOW! It was my old Ornamental Horticulture high school colleague, Madeline! I had not seen her since 1975. And so it was my first infusion at the VAMC infusion lab had me blessed with the guidance of a chemo nurse with whom I had familiarity. I do so love serendipity and blessings...and realized that I was in the midst of more of those goodies. Cool.
Long, long stories short: the oncologist asked me to undergo another ct scan with contrast to check the growth of the cancer since it had been almost two months since my last scan. I agreed. There was a lot of time spent waiting...for my chemo to be mixed. But during that time, discussion about when to get the scan. It takes drinking a contrast blend and waiting an hour. Madeline and I discussed possibilities and she called the radiology dept. By almost noon, I was hungry and determined to not let myself get weak...I asked if we might be able to get it done before chemo. After calling and arranging this, Madeline left. And my cell phone rang. It was my primary care physician. She just received the lab results for urine and they confirm a bacterial infection. Hmmm, I thought the oncologist told me the labs showed nothing. Well, she did not order labs (nor return the previous day's call) and thus did not take into account the urine lab (which to me seems like it would have been an obvious lab to order given blood in urine). I told my doctor that I was sitting waiting for my chemo to be mixed and she asked to speak to a nurse.
Apparently that provoked a call to the oncologist and a subsequent investigation into what to do. Meanwhile, Madeline arrived with the contrast drink and I gulped it down. She then got an iv in me for the test. One hour later we went to the radiology dept. and got the ct scan done. I went back to the infusion room and learned that my chemo was coming. I inquired about an antibiotic and was told my oncologist called (an) infectious disease center (?) and was told I did not need antibiotics. At that point....I'm putting it into the hands of fate...that's what I think my internal dialogue was saying. Chemo was administered after the pre chemo meds...right into the trusty port. I slept a lot. Good news: the potential rejection of the chemo drugs that sometimes occurs when a person begins a second course of such treatment (Paxiltaxil and Carboplatin) did not occur. Go body go....we have the goods to kill off ovarian cancer in us now...and more sleep. I only woke up to pee a couple of times.
At about 5 pm... and yes it was a particularly peculiar and long day, Madeline got a call and got off the phone to tell me the scan results were available and the oncologist told her to print them for me. No dialogue with the oncologist and I....but once printed, I read the report. All tumors were about double or better in size. And there were many more in the peritoneal area. So much for starving the cancer. It lived and grew. Big fucking sigh. Ok, I guess I am doing the right thing right now...says I to I.
At about 6 pm I was finally ready to exit. Ed, who made a commitment to care for me during chemo recovery, returned to pick me up. We went back to my house and he made me some dinner, which I ate. I also began taking in bags of vaporized medical m. That is my greatly preferred method of staving off nausea. I drank plenty and went to bed and sleep. I decided that I would post and open my garage and basement sale, the sole source of any and all income right now. I stated a 11:30 am opening time on craigslist before heading to bed.
So the next morning, after sleeping in, I got up, had bags, and ate a light breakfast of a smoothie and people began to arrive. I went downstairs to assist and price and before I knew it, it was about 3 pm. I did not hydrate well Saturday and that was a grave error. Ed wanted to run errands and after another friend arrived, he left. I experienced stomach cramps and although I forgot to mention it earlier in this post, being constipated was another strike against me as I began chemo. I did inform the oncologist of that too. We wondered if tumors were causing the problem and that had been another reason to rescan. At any rate, Saturday evening, I felt constipated, but ate two bowls of a delicious fresh pumpkin and unsweetened almond milk soup and some brown rice and stir-fried veggies. We watched the anticipated World Series game with me attempting to relieve my distress throughout the evening.
Sunday morning I awoke feeling lousy. I believe it began during the night Saturday. I was nauseous and felt full up with distress of constipation, to be referred to as "doc" for the rest of the post. I refused breakfast, tried drinking ginger tea, bags, bags, attempt to relieve "doc"...a dizzy spell in the bathroom and I called for Ed. I told him I saw fractal flowers, a precursor to passing out for me historically. He asked me to stand and wash my hands and the next thing I knew, I was laying on the bathroom floor. I called for him. He was off getting his telephone. He got the phone no and called the VA helpline. It was the weekend, so there was no one available in oncology! He got a nurse on a hotline in the Bronx. When he told her I passed out, she suggested he get me to bed. She also suggested Milk of Magnesia. I spoke to her and told her I passed out. There was a language barrier. At any rate, thereafter, I went and laid down and a friend phoned me. I asked her if she could swing over, as she lives about 5 minutes away. She did. Ed went to get the Milk of Magnesia. More discussion about best product of "doc" and another call to the hotline. The second nurse, learning of my passing out, suggested I go to the ER. We discussed that. Meanwhile, I got nauseous. I threw up. Twice. I got nervous. I recall it being drilled into me by my very good chemo nurse last year: do not let yourself begin to throw up. It is a bad road to get on. Damn. A bit later, a different friend came over after texting. She cut up ginger and began giving me hot ginger water. The day dragged on full of discomfort and illness. I was in bed most of the day. I was so ill, I was unable to watch the World Series. That says a lot. I had been enjoying watching the Giants throughout the playoffs and into the Series.
Monday, I awoke still having much "doc". I had taken stool softeners, Milk of Magnesia and nothing was working. Ed took me to the ER. It took hours...lab work, waiting...decisions....waiting...I ended up nauseous and vomited twice. Eventually an enema was given and almost 45 minutes later a bm. Labs revealed my white blood cell count was already off from chemo. I was given an iv of hydration and one of an anti nausea. I went home tired and ill feeling. Wow...never had all this difficulty during last years' rounds of chemo. Damn.
Tuesday went somewhat better. Somewhat. I continued to use bags for nausea and to try to get better hydrated. I recall little...was in bed a lot, up some...felt not good. Then evening came around and time for the World Series. This time I could watch. While watching, Ed got a call. His mother fell and was being ambulanced to the ER. Oh no! So sad and scary. He left to go to the hospital and returned around 4 am. Trooper was really freaking out, banging himself into my closet door. I began experiencing pain in my bladder area. Damn it. I felt really, really bad by the time he got back.
Wednesday morning, Ed called hospital to find they were about to operate on his mom to do a partial hip replacement, despite previous information that it would be much later in the day. That is the last I have seen of Ed. I had called and asked a friend who assured me she would come to my aid to please come in the afternoon and evening, knowing he would be gone. Meanwhile, another dear friend texted from a store and asked if I needed anything. I wanted cranberry juice and told her. She came with my juice, made me a smoothie, beverages, and allowed me to shower knowing someone was here in case. She also took me to pick up the prescription for antibiotics that my general practitioner determined was, in fact, needed. Since that point in time, yesterday afternoon, I have been on my own.The friend who Ed and I had both asked to come support me did not come. Sigh. We all have lives to live.
Today I still felt illish. Not as bad, granted, better. After getting up and feeding the dog, I went back to bed. I had a difficult call and then went into a trance like place while laying down. I let go of all of my problems....I let go and let God. I began to see the autumn foliage slowly falling to the ground and have no idea how long I laid there like that. I finally had the umph to get up and make myself some food and hydrate, but it was already after 1 pm by then. Eventually, I made dinner and feel like I am getting stronger. But is absolutely sucks to be in need. I am used to doing.
The point I am at is one of realizing how vulnerable and how honestly sad it feels to be in need and not have the support necessary. I am trying with all I have to move my life forward. I am broke. That alone is so difficult it is hard to discuss. I know once I sell this home I will have money. Meanwhile, though, there are serious financial pressures on top of all of the others. For the past two months, instead of any other choices I could have made, I chose to put all my efforts into doing the hard work that I admittedly put off too long toward selling the house and getting out of CNY. I don't want to think it is too little too late. And I believe I am going to pull through this series of chemo into remission again. At that point, I will decide what is next. I envision doing some bucket list things. Traveling...and being around folks who love me...spending time with my four-year-old granddaughter...feeling worth it...being around like-minds and kind, generous souls...going to the big ol trees, the ocean, my special places along the beautiful Northcoast...these are the thoughts that propel me...'cept for when I'm in the doldrums. As I say goodnight to another day, I hope that tomorrow will make me stronger and more independent...able to care for my own needs with greater ease. Amen.
Having recurrent stage IV ovarian cancer is a challenge extraordinaire. The chemo is going far different than the first time. It has been very difficult and it is almost a week since treatment. I had hoped it would be similar to last time; we rely on experiences to gauge what is ahead. I was wrong. It has been far more difficult. I have high hopes that by the time I get the second round, in less than two weeks, I will be doing better in all ways. I hope to find an agency that can provide me some help. I am going to reach out and try to get a social worker to help me to learn of programs. I do not want to feel a burden and hate the feeling of being ditched and want to avoid such feelings. Meanwhile, tomorrow I will go for my first Vitamin C infusion. I truly believe it is going to help my body endure the chemo. I will get infused twice a week. More about other hopefuls to come.
I've been wanting to write for a while. Like maybe someone will read it and learn and grow or somehow something good will come from going through the process of writing. Where to begin to catch up on what is now fully round 2 of ovarian cancer in my body and life?
Well, after postponing treatment for almost two months so that I could pack and purge and sell, I began experiencing pain. I called the oncology dept and asked for another cancer antigen lab to be ordered and found out that the number was up significantly. Despite doing my best and working as hard as I could to get myself propelled back to CA while shifting my diet radically...cancer grew in me. I no longer recall nor have the energy to cross reference the dates, but sometime not long ago, I learned the CA 125 was up to 168 and I also had pain. I scheduled chemo to begin last Friday, October 24.
The weekend before was spent "busting it out," as I like to say about any time a grand surge of energy is spent accomplishing toward a goal, and a dear cousin flew in from FL to help me to pack and purge and stage. The Friday she arrived, another dear cousin and a dear friend showed up too...and wow, a ton got done! It felt great! There were many other times during the previous two months that tons of work occurred...and also many days spent in the hospital with my elderly mother's health issues. A time of challenge? EXTRAORDINAIRE!
So...lot's of achievement, with rooms staged and a Zillow listing with photos online, then on Thursday, October 23, I wiped blood from vaginal area...and made calls. My surgeon, the true gynecological cancer specialist was the first call. Her office told me they are not my chemo provider and to call the oncologist. They also said if you have a urinary tract infection you will not be starting chemo tomorrow so you need tests to happen and if you can't get your oncologist to do so, call us back. Call two, oncology dept and I tell the telephone respondent of my circumstances. She tells me to come in tomorrow as scheduled for an appt before chemo. I agree, but tell her what the other office conveyed to me and I ask if I will get a call back because I think we need labs. After two hours of hearing nothing, I called my general practitioner, who's nurse social worker has never let me down. I discover, per her voicemail message, that she is gone for the week. So, I leave a message with the familiar-to-me receptionist. I heard back relatively shortly and was ultimately asked to come in and get labs. Mission accomplished. And I got a ride, too. The whole trip with labs took less than an hour. Hooray.
Friday morning I got up and went in for the appt with oncologist. Now, granted, this oncologist is new to me and so far I had decided to not go right into chemo with aggressive ovarian cancer. We do not have the benefit of a relationship, so she likely has an attitude about me and how I make choices. And maybe one day I will write more about putting the treatment off and the dilemmas and difficulties. So damn many. Anyhow, the oncologist saw me, listened and stated the labs came back ok. After the appt and my signing release forms, I walked to the infusion room. Gotta love how that sounds....almost intriguing.
I entered the infusion room and almost immediately heard a voice ask, "Aren't you from Galeville?"
I turned and said,"Yes" and she continued, "You lived on Buckley and I on Ferncliff." Well that got my attention and I looked her in the eyes and WOW! It was my old Ornamental Horticulture high school colleague, Madeline! I had not seen her since 1975. And so it was my first infusion at the VAMC infusion lab had me blessed with the guidance of a chemo nurse with whom I had familiarity. I do so love serendipity and blessings...and realized that I was in the midst of more of those goodies. Cool.
Long, long stories short: the oncologist asked me to undergo another ct scan with contrast to check the growth of the cancer since it had been almost two months since my last scan. I agreed. There was a lot of time spent waiting...for my chemo to be mixed. But during that time, discussion about when to get the scan. It takes drinking a contrast blend and waiting an hour. Madeline and I discussed possibilities and she called the radiology dept. By almost noon, I was hungry and determined to not let myself get weak...I asked if we might be able to get it done before chemo. After calling and arranging this, Madeline left. And my cell phone rang. It was my primary care physician. She just received the lab results for urine and they confirm a bacterial infection. Hmmm, I thought the oncologist told me the labs showed nothing. Well, she did not order labs (nor return the previous day's call) and thus did not take into account the urine lab (which to me seems like it would have been an obvious lab to order given blood in urine). I told my doctor that I was sitting waiting for my chemo to be mixed and she asked to speak to a nurse.
Apparently that provoked a call to the oncologist and a subsequent investigation into what to do. Meanwhile, Madeline arrived with the contrast drink and I gulped it down. She then got an iv in me for the test. One hour later we went to the radiology dept. and got the ct scan done. I went back to the infusion room and learned that my chemo was coming. I inquired about an antibiotic and was told my oncologist called (an) infectious disease center (?) and was told I did not need antibiotics. At that point....I'm putting it into the hands of fate...that's what I think my internal dialogue was saying. Chemo was administered after the pre chemo meds...right into the trusty port. I slept a lot. Good news: the potential rejection of the chemo drugs that sometimes occurs when a person begins a second course of such treatment (Paxiltaxil and Carboplatin) did not occur. Go body go....we have the goods to kill off ovarian cancer in us now...and more sleep. I only woke up to pee a couple of times.
At about 5 pm... and yes it was a particularly peculiar and long day, Madeline got a call and got off the phone to tell me the scan results were available and the oncologist told her to print them for me. No dialogue with the oncologist and I....but once printed, I read the report. All tumors were about double or better in size. And there were many more in the peritoneal area. So much for starving the cancer. It lived and grew. Big fucking sigh. Ok, I guess I am doing the right thing right now...says I to I.
At about 6 pm I was finally ready to exit. Ed, who made a commitment to care for me during chemo recovery, returned to pick me up. We went back to my house and he made me some dinner, which I ate. I also began taking in bags of vaporized medical m. That is my greatly preferred method of staving off nausea. I drank plenty and went to bed and sleep. I decided that I would post and open my garage and basement sale, the sole source of any and all income right now. I stated a 11:30 am opening time on craigslist before heading to bed.
So the next morning, after sleeping in, I got up, had bags, and ate a light breakfast of a smoothie and people began to arrive. I went downstairs to assist and price and before I knew it, it was about 3 pm. I did not hydrate well Saturday and that was a grave error. Ed wanted to run errands and after another friend arrived, he left. I experienced stomach cramps and although I forgot to mention it earlier in this post, being constipated was another strike against me as I began chemo. I did inform the oncologist of that too. We wondered if tumors were causing the problem and that had been another reason to rescan. At any rate, Saturday evening, I felt constipated, but ate two bowls of a delicious fresh pumpkin and unsweetened almond milk soup and some brown rice and stir-fried veggies. We watched the anticipated World Series game with me attempting to relieve my distress throughout the evening.
Sunday morning I awoke feeling lousy. I believe it began during the night Saturday. I was nauseous and felt full up with distress of constipation, to be referred to as "doc" for the rest of the post. I refused breakfast, tried drinking ginger tea, bags, bags, attempt to relieve "doc"...a dizzy spell in the bathroom and I called for Ed. I told him I saw fractal flowers, a precursor to passing out for me historically. He asked me to stand and wash my hands and the next thing I knew, I was laying on the bathroom floor. I called for him. He was off getting his telephone. He got the phone no and called the VA helpline. It was the weekend, so there was no one available in oncology! He got a nurse on a hotline in the Bronx. When he told her I passed out, she suggested he get me to bed. She also suggested Milk of Magnesia. I spoke to her and told her I passed out. There was a language barrier. At any rate, thereafter, I went and laid down and a friend phoned me. I asked her if she could swing over, as she lives about 5 minutes away. She did. Ed went to get the Milk of Magnesia. More discussion about best product of "doc" and another call to the hotline. The second nurse, learning of my passing out, suggested I go to the ER. We discussed that. Meanwhile, I got nauseous. I threw up. Twice. I got nervous. I recall it being drilled into me by my very good chemo nurse last year: do not let yourself begin to throw up. It is a bad road to get on. Damn. A bit later, a different friend came over after texting. She cut up ginger and began giving me hot ginger water. The day dragged on full of discomfort and illness. I was in bed most of the day. I was so ill, I was unable to watch the World Series. That says a lot. I had been enjoying watching the Giants throughout the playoffs and into the Series.
Monday, I awoke still having much "doc". I had taken stool softeners, Milk of Magnesia and nothing was working. Ed took me to the ER. It took hours...lab work, waiting...decisions....waiting...I ended up nauseous and vomited twice. Eventually an enema was given and almost 45 minutes later a bm. Labs revealed my white blood cell count was already off from chemo. I was given an iv of hydration and one of an anti nausea. I went home tired and ill feeling. Wow...never had all this difficulty during last years' rounds of chemo. Damn.
Tuesday went somewhat better. Somewhat. I continued to use bags for nausea and to try to get better hydrated. I recall little...was in bed a lot, up some...felt not good. Then evening came around and time for the World Series. This time I could watch. While watching, Ed got a call. His mother fell and was being ambulanced to the ER. Oh no! So sad and scary. He left to go to the hospital and returned around 4 am. Trooper was really freaking out, banging himself into my closet door. I began experiencing pain in my bladder area. Damn it. I felt really, really bad by the time he got back.
Wednesday morning, Ed called hospital to find they were about to operate on his mom to do a partial hip replacement, despite previous information that it would be much later in the day. That is the last I have seen of Ed. I had called and asked a friend who assured me she would come to my aid to please come in the afternoon and evening, knowing he would be gone. Meanwhile, another dear friend texted from a store and asked if I needed anything. I wanted cranberry juice and told her. She came with my juice, made me a smoothie, beverages, and allowed me to shower knowing someone was here in case. She also took me to pick up the prescription for antibiotics that my general practitioner determined was, in fact, needed. Since that point in time, yesterday afternoon, I have been on my own.The friend who Ed and I had both asked to come support me did not come. Sigh. We all have lives to live.
Today I still felt illish. Not as bad, granted, better. After getting up and feeding the dog, I went back to bed. I had a difficult call and then went into a trance like place while laying down. I let go of all of my problems....I let go and let God. I began to see the autumn foliage slowly falling to the ground and have no idea how long I laid there like that. I finally had the umph to get up and make myself some food and hydrate, but it was already after 1 pm by then. Eventually, I made dinner and feel like I am getting stronger. But is absolutely sucks to be in need. I am used to doing.
The point I am at is one of realizing how vulnerable and how honestly sad it feels to be in need and not have the support necessary. I am trying with all I have to move my life forward. I am broke. That alone is so difficult it is hard to discuss. I know once I sell this home I will have money. Meanwhile, though, there are serious financial pressures on top of all of the others. For the past two months, instead of any other choices I could have made, I chose to put all my efforts into doing the hard work that I admittedly put off too long toward selling the house and getting out of CNY. I don't want to think it is too little too late. And I believe I am going to pull through this series of chemo into remission again. At that point, I will decide what is next. I envision doing some bucket list things. Traveling...and being around folks who love me...spending time with my four-year-old granddaughter...feeling worth it...being around like-minds and kind, generous souls...going to the big ol trees, the ocean, my special places along the beautiful Northcoast...these are the thoughts that propel me...'cept for when I'm in the doldrums. As I say goodnight to another day, I hope that tomorrow will make me stronger and more independent...able to care for my own needs with greater ease. Amen.
Having recurrent stage IV ovarian cancer is a challenge extraordinaire. The chemo is going far different than the first time. It has been very difficult and it is almost a week since treatment. I had hoped it would be similar to last time; we rely on experiences to gauge what is ahead. I was wrong. It has been far more difficult. I have high hopes that by the time I get the second round, in less than two weeks, I will be doing better in all ways. I hope to find an agency that can provide me some help. I am going to reach out and try to get a social worker to help me to learn of programs. I do not want to feel a burden and hate the feeling of being ditched and want to avoid such feelings. Meanwhile, tomorrow I will go for my first Vitamin C infusion. I truly believe it is going to help my body endure the chemo. I will get infused twice a week. More about other hopefuls to come.
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