Today my left foot is black and blue and really swollen. It doesn't fit comfortably into any shoes and I can only hobble around. I decided that this warranted a visit to my primary care provider.
This is funny because I have only seen my primary care provider once. I met with him so they would put his name on my insurance cards and I would look like I had a primary care provider. In reality I would see my midwife or women's health nurse practitioner if I needed anything.
Regardless I couldn't get in to see him today so I happily saw the physician's assistance from the clinic instead. She was very thorough and in addition to ordering 3 views of my foot she also told me that I am due for a tetanus vaccine, a lipid panel, and a PAP smear.
I consented to the first two and actually added a tb test, but I declined the PAP smear. She read my history and knew I recently had treatment for "clear cell adenocarcinoma of the cervix." I told her that I was not due for a pap smear at this time, and she looked at me trying to gauge if I knew what I was talking about. She asked who my gynecologist is. I told her the name and stated that he is a gyn oncologist. She looked at me funny again. It didn't occur to me later how funny that sounds "gyn oncologist" and that she probably thought I had no idea how to say gynecologist.
Regardless, I left 3 poke holes later with the information that my foot doesn't appear to be broken.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Humpty Dumpty
My dad had a consult with a vascular surgeon on Friday and it was decided that the clot needed to go. Bright and early Saturday morning my dad checked into the hospital for a 10 am cath procedure. Due to a few emergencies my dad was bumped back to mid afternoon, but he ended up with a cath on Sat. and another on Sun. After aggressive treatment most of the clot is gone and my dad is back home. He will be on Coumadin (rat poison) for life and currently is not happy with how this may cramp his style.
Meanwhile, I was feeling pretty good. After my blog posts last week my GI issues have seemed to clear up. I finished my antibiotics and everything seemed to be normalizing. Then Ella got a stomach bug. Then Geoff got it. Then E got it...meanwhile I wash my hands about a billion times a day.
Then today just as I was getting the kids done with lunch and ready for naptime I crashed. Suddenly out of nowhere I was exhausted. Fortunately for me Geoff had come home for lunch so he helped me with the dogs and clean up after lunch. I got E down and then Ella down and shortly after I decided to take a "short nap." Three and a half hours later I woke up when Geoff came home from work. Crap!
I haven't had the GI issues that the rest of them have had, but I continue to be exhausted again. I reluctantly dragged myself out the door to some mandatory preschool parent meeting only to find out it was about 4 year old kindergarten. Let me just say, I'm not a huge fan. Geoff and I have mixed feelings on the subject so I left our house exhausted and busted back in 45 minutes later all fired up.
We proceeded to talk the meeting and our children's educations while we ate dinner and hung out with the kids. Just as things started to settle down I noticed I had missed a call. I saw who it was and skipped the voicemail. I knew it was about Aggie, our horse. All I could think was "please no!" Apparently Aggie was having some GI upset too (horses do NOT do GI upset well), but all is ok.
Just as I was getting off the phone I went back downstairs to tell Geoff that I wanted to sneak out to the barn tonight and I promptly fell down the stairs. I knew immediately by the shooting pain that I had turned an ankle or something. E saw the whole thing and started yelling "you ok Mommy? Mommy, you ok? Mommy I help you? Hang on...I'll go get my Dr. kit!"
In a true testament to how easy it is to tune out a 3 year old and whiny wife Geoff was oblivious to the situation. I fell while I was still on the phone and I tried to continue to act normal. As I mentioned E saw the whole thing and I wanted to act tough for him so I suppressed A LOT of four letter words. My tough act was short lived though. As soon as I got off the phone I started sobbing. Geoff came running just as E arrived with his Dr. kit. It was one of those moments when I was in pure agony, but the pure innocence of E's actions made me so proud and amused. So in addition to sobbing, I started laughing.
It took me a couple of minutes to get from face down on the carpet to sitting up to hobbling to the couch to sitting on the couch, but I did it. Geoff kept me supplied with ice packs and pain meds. Overall, I'm sure I'll be fine, but it feels like I turned an ankle and pulled the arch in my other foot. It's the arch that's killing me because the pain shoots up my leg every time I move it. I feel like a mess. Every time I take a step forward I take another one back. At times it makes me feel a little like "all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put humpty together again."
Meanwhile, I was feeling pretty good. After my blog posts last week my GI issues have seemed to clear up. I finished my antibiotics and everything seemed to be normalizing. Then Ella got a stomach bug. Then Geoff got it. Then E got it...meanwhile I wash my hands about a billion times a day.
Then today just as I was getting the kids done with lunch and ready for naptime I crashed. Suddenly out of nowhere I was exhausted. Fortunately for me Geoff had come home for lunch so he helped me with the dogs and clean up after lunch. I got E down and then Ella down and shortly after I decided to take a "short nap." Three and a half hours later I woke up when Geoff came home from work. Crap!
I haven't had the GI issues that the rest of them have had, but I continue to be exhausted again. I reluctantly dragged myself out the door to some mandatory preschool parent meeting only to find out it was about 4 year old kindergarten. Let me just say, I'm not a huge fan. Geoff and I have mixed feelings on the subject so I left our house exhausted and busted back in 45 minutes later all fired up.
We proceeded to talk the meeting and our children's educations while we ate dinner and hung out with the kids. Just as things started to settle down I noticed I had missed a call. I saw who it was and skipped the voicemail. I knew it was about Aggie, our horse. All I could think was "please no!" Apparently Aggie was having some GI upset too (horses do NOT do GI upset well), but all is ok.
Just as I was getting off the phone I went back downstairs to tell Geoff that I wanted to sneak out to the barn tonight and I promptly fell down the stairs. I knew immediately by the shooting pain that I had turned an ankle or something. E saw the whole thing and started yelling "you ok Mommy? Mommy, you ok? Mommy I help you? Hang on...I'll go get my Dr. kit!"
In a true testament to how easy it is to tune out a 3 year old and whiny wife Geoff was oblivious to the situation. I fell while I was still on the phone and I tried to continue to act normal. As I mentioned E saw the whole thing and I wanted to act tough for him so I suppressed A LOT of four letter words. My tough act was short lived though. As soon as I got off the phone I started sobbing. Geoff came running just as E arrived with his Dr. kit. It was one of those moments when I was in pure agony, but the pure innocence of E's actions made me so proud and amused. So in addition to sobbing, I started laughing.
It took me a couple of minutes to get from face down on the carpet to sitting up to hobbling to the couch to sitting on the couch, but I did it. Geoff kept me supplied with ice packs and pain meds. Overall, I'm sure I'll be fine, but it feels like I turned an ankle and pulled the arch in my other foot. It's the arch that's killing me because the pain shoots up my leg every time I move it. I feel like a mess. Every time I take a step forward I take another one back. At times it makes me feel a little like "all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put humpty together again."
Friday, January 25, 2013
I Win
Yesterday when my dad and I called to collaborate about our the results of our appointments he suggested that this year is going to be "our year." To understand this I have to give a little background...
My dad and I are extremely competitive. Extremely. It drives everyone around us nuts at times, but that doesn't stop us, well sometimes it does.
When I was in junior high I took up downhill skiing with some friends. I immediately fell in love. At the time, I was unaware that my dad had learned to ski back in the dark ages when you strapped wooden planks to your feet, threw yourself down a hill, and called it skiing. After I went skiing a couple of times my dad decided it was time for him to start skiing again too. This is when things got ugly...
It started innocently enough. My dad was the cool dad that bought me awesome gear after I had skied maybe twice. Then I used those skis three times before he upgraded me to a step below racing skis. He outfitted himself in a similar fashion. It seemed almost sweet, but it wasn't. It quickly turned into who had faster skis, who was a faster skier, who fell more, who could handle the cold better, who could get more runs in a day...
That's when "I win" started. Everything became a race and a challenge. We would both be headed to the living room and as soon as we saw the other one we would flat-out run screaming "I win" upon arrival whether it was true or not (quick tip here...for me it was true, for him it was not). Same thing for the bathroom, or dinner, or you name it.
Then I went away to college and the time and money for skiing ceased to exist, but much to my mother's dismay our enthusiasm for competition did not. Fast forward a few years and I was accepted as an intern at the Minnesota Zoo as an animal management/health intern for the Northern Trail (aka moose, tigers, red pandas, taken, bison, prairie dogs, wolf, musk ox, bacterian camels and more). In order to get to the zoo I needed a car and fast.
I have never enjoyed driving and for the most part was fine using public transportation in Minneapolis/St. Paul to get around up until this point, but I knew exactly what I wanted. The new VW beetle in turbonium green (other colors non negotiable). Did I mention my internship was full-time and unpaid? So back to the car, I wanted ALL the bells and whistles. It seemed reasonable to me.
My parents had a different vision. The elderly mother of one of my dad's friends was giving up driving and subsequently selling her car. It was barely used and it was cheap and it was a Ford Festiva. Also it was the color of tweety bird.
Since I didn't have the funds to purchase a car, I didn't have much of a choice. My parent's helped me buy the car and then my dad sabotaged me. He took care of my license plates...
He did get me custom license plates, but they read "I Lost" and they were on a bright yellow party in a box with wheels. I was not amused with him. Little did I know that first of all, that car was awesome! It rarely went less than 90 mph on the interstate (I drive like a fricken grandma now), I could parallel park it ANYWHERE (really!), and those stupid license plates got me out of a bazillion speeding tickets (if the state of MN or WI had actually kept track of all the times I was pulled over I would have lost my license about a million times over...I probably should have too).
Despite the love I eventually developed for that car, I still hold a grudge against my dad for the intentional public humiliation he caused me (this is where I explain that the reasons I never got speeding tickets is because the police officers always wanted me to explain the license plate and would drive away laughing their asses off).
So back to my original story...
So my dad suggested 2013 would be "our" year and we would share the drama. As he so eloquently put it, in 2011 he fell and broke his hip and then had a blood clot and then bleeding drama from the blood thinners, then in 2012 I had cancer. I think he forgets that 4 days before he fell I had a major post-partum hemorrhage. That was "our" year. I told him "no thanks. you can have it. you can be the center of attention." He replied, "no, you can." Eventually, we agreed to graciously pass it on to someone else's family, preferably no one we know.
Apparently he reconsidered. This morning the phone rang as Geoff was trying to run out the door to get Ella to daycare and I was trying to run out the door to get E to preschool. No one EVER calls at that time in the morning so we both looked at each other and rolled our eyes because we knew it wasn't going to be good. I answered the phone and it was my dad.
All I heard was something about "fell (for the record he swears he said "slipped")...hip...can't stop shivering...shock." All I could think was "shit...hip...blood thinners...clot...shit...shock...emergency...shit." (yes, I swear in my head and out loud more often than I should...I'm working on it...eternally). Geoff turned around and mouthed the question "your dad?" as I yelled something about "go to the emergency dept. and get off the phone with me!"
Once I was off the phone Geoff and I resumed our frantic scattering out of our house. Just as I was about to drop off E my dad called again. I asked if he was at the hospital this time and he replied he wasn't going. I rolled my eyes, shook my head, cursed under my breath, and told him I would call him back after I dropped off E.
It wasn't until I called him back that I realized that there was some "miscommunication" and he never actually fell. He slipped and contorted his leg/hip to some awkward and painful position, but there was never an actual impact. Regardless my brother had an appointment with the family's MD this morning and ratted my dad out so now my dad has an appointment tomorrow morning.
Thanks to my brother I feel like "I win." The perfect scenario would be if he would drive to the appointment in the little yellow Ford Festiva with license plates that say "I Lost" that is sitting in his garage.
My dad and I are extremely competitive. Extremely. It drives everyone around us nuts at times, but that doesn't stop us, well sometimes it does.
When I was in junior high I took up downhill skiing with some friends. I immediately fell in love. At the time, I was unaware that my dad had learned to ski back in the dark ages when you strapped wooden planks to your feet, threw yourself down a hill, and called it skiing. After I went skiing a couple of times my dad decided it was time for him to start skiing again too. This is when things got ugly...
 |
| One of my favorite pics of us (it's old obviously...also, no, I don't hunt) |
That's when "I win" started. Everything became a race and a challenge. We would both be headed to the living room and as soon as we saw the other one we would flat-out run screaming "I win" upon arrival whether it was true or not (quick tip here...for me it was true, for him it was not). Same thing for the bathroom, or dinner, or you name it.
 |
| me loving on an anesthetized red panda |
I have never enjoyed driving and for the most part was fine using public transportation in Minneapolis/St. Paul to get around up until this point, but I knew exactly what I wanted. The new VW beetle in turbonium green (other colors non negotiable). Did I mention my internship was full-time and unpaid? So back to the car, I wanted ALL the bells and whistles. It seemed reasonable to me.
 |
| Me with one of the Amur tigers and other staff |
Since I didn't have the funds to purchase a car, I didn't have much of a choice. My parent's helped me buy the car and then my dad sabotaged me. He took care of my license plates...
He did get me custom license plates, but they read "I Lost" and they were on a bright yellow party in a box with wheels. I was not amused with him. Little did I know that first of all, that car was awesome! It rarely went less than 90 mph on the interstate (I drive like a fricken grandma now), I could parallel park it ANYWHERE (really!), and those stupid license plates got me out of a bazillion speeding tickets (if the state of MN or WI had actually kept track of all the times I was pulled over I would have lost my license about a million times over...I probably should have too).
Despite the love I eventually developed for that car, I still hold a grudge against my dad for the intentional public humiliation he caused me (this is where I explain that the reasons I never got speeding tickets is because the police officers always wanted me to explain the license plate and would drive away laughing their asses off).
So back to my original story...
So my dad suggested 2013 would be "our" year and we would share the drama. As he so eloquently put it, in 2011 he fell and broke his hip and then had a blood clot and then bleeding drama from the blood thinners, then in 2012 I had cancer. I think he forgets that 4 days before he fell I had a major post-partum hemorrhage. That was "our" year. I told him "no thanks. you can have it. you can be the center of attention." He replied, "no, you can." Eventually, we agreed to graciously pass it on to someone else's family, preferably no one we know.
Apparently he reconsidered. This morning the phone rang as Geoff was trying to run out the door to get Ella to daycare and I was trying to run out the door to get E to preschool. No one EVER calls at that time in the morning so we both looked at each other and rolled our eyes because we knew it wasn't going to be good. I answered the phone and it was my dad.
All I heard was something about "fell (for the record he swears he said "slipped")...hip...can't stop shivering...shock." All I could think was "shit...hip...blood thinners...clot...shit...shock...emergency...shit." (yes, I swear in my head and out loud more often than I should...I'm working on it...eternally). Geoff turned around and mouthed the question "your dad?" as I yelled something about "go to the emergency dept. and get off the phone with me!"
Once I was off the phone Geoff and I resumed our frantic scattering out of our house. Just as I was about to drop off E my dad called again. I asked if he was at the hospital this time and he replied he wasn't going. I rolled my eyes, shook my head, cursed under my breath, and told him I would call him back after I dropped off E.
It wasn't until I called him back that I realized that there was some "miscommunication" and he never actually fell. He slipped and contorted his leg/hip to some awkward and painful position, but there was never an actual impact. Regardless my brother had an appointment with the family's MD this morning and ratted my dad out so now my dad has an appointment tomorrow morning.
Thanks to my brother I feel like "I win." The perfect scenario would be if he would drive to the appointment in the little yellow Ford Festiva with license plates that say "I Lost" that is sitting in his garage.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Stronger
I've spent the past few days feeling miserable and sorry for myself. My head has gone to dark and twisty places (more on that later) and I've felt even more miserable because I've isolated myself.
I'm sick of the extreme cold (-2F without wind chill here yesterday) and I long for some time outside. A warm, sunny beach would be really nice.
As if the extreme cold isn't bad enough I have two kids that take F-O-R-E-V-E-R to take out in the cold, even if we are just going from our warm house to our preheated car to some other warm place. They want to wear boots, but not a jacket, or only want to wear boots, but no pants. The scenes they create in our front entrance are unbelievable.
They have cabin fever and need to run. They are sick of being at home. They are sick of daycare. They are sick of the car (unless its bedtime...then it's again, debatable). All of this means when I take them anywhere I spend my entire time hissing "use your inside voice." Yes, I'm that mom. I hate those moms. I don't even think my kids know what the hell an inside voice is, but that doesn't stop me from saying it to them. Wth is wrong with me?
Maybe I'm just lazy, but I think these reasons alone make leaving the house hard enough, but then you add in post cancer treatment residuals like sudden and unexpected diarrhea and well, would you go out?
Considering my cancer was cervical cancer and all of my treatment regimens focused on socially taboo areas, I have a hard time feeling comfortable talking about my circumstances anywhere. Even on my own blog. While it is easier to write some of this out at times, I still come face-to-face with plenty of people who read my blog. Including people that I know will judge me.
Sometimes I'm strong enough to tell myself it doesn't matter and other times I force myself to suffer in silence. This past week has been a lot of the latter. A LOT. Again, dark and twisty thoughts.
Geoff is amazing. He goes through all of this with me and suffers in silence with me to protect my dignity. He reassures me and comforts me, but most of all he listens. We didn't use traditional wedding vows so we never actually said the whole "in sickness and in health" part, but it's obvious he never took any of that for granted. There have been many times lately when I've decided that all of this is more than he bargained for when he married me, but he insists that he "isn't going anywhere."
Earlier this month I had an infection on/near my internal suture line (aka "vaginal cuff") and I was on antibiotics. I mentioned in a previous blog or two that the antibiotics exacerbated my current diarrhea problem. What I didn't mention was how bad...In the two weeks that I was on the antibiotics I lost over 10 lbs. It was complete misery for me. I felt disgusting and miserable.
There was no way for me to leave the house at times. If I really did have to leave the house I wouldn't eat beforehand. I maxed out all the antidiarrheal meds I could take, but it didn't help at all.
Since I finished the antibiotics the situation has gotten better, but not resolved. I have no idea how long the "radiation diarrhea" will last, but it could leave any day and I would be VERY VERY happy.
This past Saturday I was brave enough to drive about an hour and half to the WI ACNM (American College of Nurse Midwives) Affiliate meeting. I had a wonderful time, but I took extra clothes with me and spent the entire time obsessed with embarrassing myself. I didn't.
Sunday however, was a different story.
I don't even know when it happened the first time...at home or if we were out running errands, but I felt a gush of fluid and I ran to the bathroom. I freaked out. I thought I had just had a bout of incontinence. Then it happened again.
It didn't take long before my mind went from incontinence to fistula. A fistula is an opening in the vagina caused by injury or trauma. Often it forms a passage between the vagina and the bladder or the bowel. In this case, I assumed bladder. These can be caused by a variety of factors including radiation and/or hysterectomy.
I freaked out!
I started crying. No, make that sobbing. I told Geoff to divorce me. I couldn't think through any of it rationally. About this same time I realized I had a hemorrhoid from all the diarrhea and because I was already being irrational I started thinking of colon polyps, and then colon cancer. Essentially I went temporarily insane with a small degree of reason.
I promised Geoff I would go in asap on Monday and I called and left my NP a message. I thought through the "what ifs," cried and then decided I was being ridiculous. The whole notion of colon cancer is where I really crossed the line and I know it. Just humoring any thoughts about a re-occurrence of any type of cancer is too much for me to bear.
Monday came and went and no return phone call, but I realized mid-afternoon that it was Martin Luther King Day. Then Tuesday I didn't get a phone call either. I held it together until last night and then I freaked out again.
Geoff has a cold sore so we can't even kiss and that combined with being a broken shut in was too much for me. Fortunately for me I have some pretty awesome friends from school who are smart enough to know the lingo, the anatomy, and therapeutic communication. I spent some time chatting with a few of them and finally, I was able to convince myself I did not have a fistula after all and I felt better again.
This morning the phone rang and I dove for it hoping it was my NP. I forgot to mention that if I didn't hear from her today I was contemplating actually calling the nurse line for my gyn-oncologist office, but really I only wanted my NP. She knows my history, my anatomy, my family...She is amazing. When I feel completely broken and humiliated she gets it and will do ANYTHING to help fix it.
So the phone call. It wasn't my NP. It was my dad. He was calling to ask about some leg pain he was having. I asked him to describe it. I asked him if his leg was warm. He replied with something about just coming in from outside (again, it's really really cold) and his leg being warm to the touch. I told him our conversation was done and he needed to call his MD because I was pretty sure he had blood clot again (history: a week after Ella was born my dad fell while biking and broke his hip...during his recovery he got an extensive blood clot).
A little while later I did talk to my NP and we made plans for a noon date. Meanwhile my dad also made plans for a "lunch date" with his doctor.
Around noon Geoff and I met up at the hospital. He came to hold my hand and watch our little devils. First we descended upon the cancer center lab. While Geoff and Ella opted to wait in the waiting room like normal humans, E wanted to come with me. He sat on my lap while I had a CBC (complete blood count) and BMP (basic metabolic panel) drawn. I tried to distract him so he wouldn't actually notice me getting my blood drawn, but nothing escapes E when you want it to. His eyes were wide like saucers as he saw the tubes fill with my blood. Honestly, you would have thought it was him getting his blood drawn. Regardless, I think it was good for him to see that I was just fine.
Then we took a trip downstairs to the see my NP. She confirmed that I did in fact have drainage again. She took a good look at my "vaginal cuff" and noted that there was an area of defect. This means that some of the layers of skin along that suture line have started to dehisce or spread open. It isn't open all the way through and as long as it doesn't get worse, it isn't anything I have to go back to the OR for. I'm supposed to take it easy and listen to my body for another 4 weeks until I go back to see her again.
Shortly after I got home she called to let me know that I also have a UTI (urinary tract infection), so I'm back on antibiotics for a few days. It is a different antibiotic this time so even though I could stand to lose a lot more weight hopefully I won't do it via the crash method again.
A little while later my dad called to see how I was doing and to tell me what he found out. Unfortunately, he does have a blood clot again. This time it goes from his ankle to his groin and he is pissed. Well, we all are. Now he will have to be on Coumadin (blood thinner) for life and all of us are frustrated by that prospect because my dad and Coumadin don't mix well. Ug!
Neither of us were exactly happy with the adventures of our day, but we will survive and we will be stronger because of it....As will Geoff and my mom for having to put up with us.
I'm sick of the extreme cold (-2F without wind chill here yesterday) and I long for some time outside. A warm, sunny beach would be really nice.
As if the extreme cold isn't bad enough I have two kids that take F-O-R-E-V-E-R to take out in the cold, even if we are just going from our warm house to our preheated car to some other warm place. They want to wear boots, but not a jacket, or only want to wear boots, but no pants. The scenes they create in our front entrance are unbelievable.
They have cabin fever and need to run. They are sick of being at home. They are sick of daycare. They are sick of the car (unless its bedtime...then it's again, debatable). All of this means when I take them anywhere I spend my entire time hissing "use your inside voice." Yes, I'm that mom. I hate those moms. I don't even think my kids know what the hell an inside voice is, but that doesn't stop me from saying it to them. Wth is wrong with me?
Maybe I'm just lazy, but I think these reasons alone make leaving the house hard enough, but then you add in post cancer treatment residuals like sudden and unexpected diarrhea and well, would you go out?
Considering my cancer was cervical cancer and all of my treatment regimens focused on socially taboo areas, I have a hard time feeling comfortable talking about my circumstances anywhere. Even on my own blog. While it is easier to write some of this out at times, I still come face-to-face with plenty of people who read my blog. Including people that I know will judge me.
Sometimes I'm strong enough to tell myself it doesn't matter and other times I force myself to suffer in silence. This past week has been a lot of the latter. A LOT. Again, dark and twisty thoughts.
Geoff is amazing. He goes through all of this with me and suffers in silence with me to protect my dignity. He reassures me and comforts me, but most of all he listens. We didn't use traditional wedding vows so we never actually said the whole "in sickness and in health" part, but it's obvious he never took any of that for granted. There have been many times lately when I've decided that all of this is more than he bargained for when he married me, but he insists that he "isn't going anywhere."
Earlier this month I had an infection on/near my internal suture line (aka "vaginal cuff") and I was on antibiotics. I mentioned in a previous blog or two that the antibiotics exacerbated my current diarrhea problem. What I didn't mention was how bad...In the two weeks that I was on the antibiotics I lost over 10 lbs. It was complete misery for me. I felt disgusting and miserable.
There was no way for me to leave the house at times. If I really did have to leave the house I wouldn't eat beforehand. I maxed out all the antidiarrheal meds I could take, but it didn't help at all.
Since I finished the antibiotics the situation has gotten better, but not resolved. I have no idea how long the "radiation diarrhea" will last, but it could leave any day and I would be VERY VERY happy.
This past Saturday I was brave enough to drive about an hour and half to the WI ACNM (American College of Nurse Midwives) Affiliate meeting. I had a wonderful time, but I took extra clothes with me and spent the entire time obsessed with embarrassing myself. I didn't.
Sunday however, was a different story.
I don't even know when it happened the first time...at home or if we were out running errands, but I felt a gush of fluid and I ran to the bathroom. I freaked out. I thought I had just had a bout of incontinence. Then it happened again.
It didn't take long before my mind went from incontinence to fistula. A fistula is an opening in the vagina caused by injury or trauma. Often it forms a passage between the vagina and the bladder or the bowel. In this case, I assumed bladder. These can be caused by a variety of factors including radiation and/or hysterectomy.
I freaked out!
I started crying. No, make that sobbing. I told Geoff to divorce me. I couldn't think through any of it rationally. About this same time I realized I had a hemorrhoid from all the diarrhea and because I was already being irrational I started thinking of colon polyps, and then colon cancer. Essentially I went temporarily insane with a small degree of reason.
I promised Geoff I would go in asap on Monday and I called and left my NP a message. I thought through the "what ifs," cried and then decided I was being ridiculous. The whole notion of colon cancer is where I really crossed the line and I know it. Just humoring any thoughts about a re-occurrence of any type of cancer is too much for me to bear.
Monday came and went and no return phone call, but I realized mid-afternoon that it was Martin Luther King Day. Then Tuesday I didn't get a phone call either. I held it together until last night and then I freaked out again.
Geoff has a cold sore so we can't even kiss and that combined with being a broken shut in was too much for me. Fortunately for me I have some pretty awesome friends from school who are smart enough to know the lingo, the anatomy, and therapeutic communication. I spent some time chatting with a few of them and finally, I was able to convince myself I did not have a fistula after all and I felt better again.
This morning the phone rang and I dove for it hoping it was my NP. I forgot to mention that if I didn't hear from her today I was contemplating actually calling the nurse line for my gyn-oncologist office, but really I only wanted my NP. She knows my history, my anatomy, my family...She is amazing. When I feel completely broken and humiliated she gets it and will do ANYTHING to help fix it.
So the phone call. It wasn't my NP. It was my dad. He was calling to ask about some leg pain he was having. I asked him to describe it. I asked him if his leg was warm. He replied with something about just coming in from outside (again, it's really really cold) and his leg being warm to the touch. I told him our conversation was done and he needed to call his MD because I was pretty sure he had blood clot again (history: a week after Ella was born my dad fell while biking and broke his hip...during his recovery he got an extensive blood clot).
A little while later I did talk to my NP and we made plans for a noon date. Meanwhile my dad also made plans for a "lunch date" with his doctor.
Around noon Geoff and I met up at the hospital. He came to hold my hand and watch our little devils. First we descended upon the cancer center lab. While Geoff and Ella opted to wait in the waiting room like normal humans, E wanted to come with me. He sat on my lap while I had a CBC (complete blood count) and BMP (basic metabolic panel) drawn. I tried to distract him so he wouldn't actually notice me getting my blood drawn, but nothing escapes E when you want it to. His eyes were wide like saucers as he saw the tubes fill with my blood. Honestly, you would have thought it was him getting his blood drawn. Regardless, I think it was good for him to see that I was just fine.
Then we took a trip downstairs to the see my NP. She confirmed that I did in fact have drainage again. She took a good look at my "vaginal cuff" and noted that there was an area of defect. This means that some of the layers of skin along that suture line have started to dehisce or spread open. It isn't open all the way through and as long as it doesn't get worse, it isn't anything I have to go back to the OR for. I'm supposed to take it easy and listen to my body for another 4 weeks until I go back to see her again.
Shortly after I got home she called to let me know that I also have a UTI (urinary tract infection), so I'm back on antibiotics for a few days. It is a different antibiotic this time so even though I could stand to lose a lot more weight hopefully I won't do it via the crash method again.
A little while later my dad called to see how I was doing and to tell me what he found out. Unfortunately, he does have a blood clot again. This time it goes from his ankle to his groin and he is pissed. Well, we all are. Now he will have to be on Coumadin (blood thinner) for life and all of us are frustrated by that prospect because my dad and Coumadin don't mix well. Ug!
Neither of us were exactly happy with the adventures of our day, but we will survive and we will be stronger because of it....As will Geoff and my mom for having to put up with us.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Bananas!
This morning started out with me waking up an hour before my alarm went off to go to the bathroom. I was able to get back to sleep pretty quickly but about 15 minutes later E started crying for some unknown reason. We usually go in his room and see what's the matter and he goes back to sleep, but for some reason I went in his room asked him if he wanted to come snuggle in our room. Of course he said yes. Ok, I did this because a. I was not thinking and b. I wanted to maximize my sleeping time.
Anyway, he came to our room and crawled into our already overcrowded bed. It was kind of like how many bodies can you squeeze into a king sized bed?...two adults, two munchkins, a very large dog, and probably a cat or two (but I don't actually know if this part is true or not).
He went back to sleep immediately. Actually it was really sweet, but then I couldn't sleep because I started thinking about how my little boy is actually quickly becoming a big boy and rarely has time to cuddle his mommy.
Then my alarm went off and I decided to reset it for a few minutes because I just wanted to snooze. About two minutes later the phone rang. It was my parents asking me to unlock the front door...In other words they were so enthusiastic about coming to babysit today they showed up about a half hour early.
I sighed and got up to unlock the door and put the dogs out. While the dogs were out I ran downstairs to start another load of laundry, brought the dogs in, and hurried back upstairs to take a shower. A few minutes later and Geoff and I were on our way out the door. We dropped the dogs off at doggy daycare and headed to the hospital.
I was cold and crabby. I really wanted my port out but I was remembering my previous experiences and not looking forward to being poked and prodded. On the way, Geoff announced that he was going to come in with me for a bit so that made it a little better.
The person that checked me in congratulated me on getting my port out and gave me my pager for the lab. My lab experience included an extra iv poke...I was a little dehydrated from this past week.Oh well, it was all pretty quick and easy.
Then it was off to radiology. Geoff stayed as I got changed and checked in and then he headed off to work. A few minutes later I was off to the procedure room (not the picture on Facebook. I wished I would have brought my camera in with me). I was there for about an hour. My port was a little difficult coming out due to scar tissue. I refused sedation, but I did have Fentanyl again. My nurse gave me an extra dose when I flinched as the MD put his weight onto my chest to get leverage for pulling out the catheter. It wasn't the pressure that made me flinch but the internal tugging. The extra dose did the trick though...soon I was vacillating between attentiveness and snoozing.
At one point I woke up and realized that I was having one of those dreams where you are half awake and you think what you are dreaming is really happening. I'm sad to say that it was not at this point that I realized that I was not fully cognizant. You would think the fact that my dream was something about bananas wearing shoes and walking around would have tipped me off.
Needless to say the drugs distracted me from any discomfort. It was only a few minutes more before I was in recovery. Since I didn't actually have sedation I only had to stay an hour instead of two. Geoff was not surprised to find that I decided to omit the part about the bananas and other things, like nausea. I figured I managed to eat a lunch and keep it down so no need to get worked up about it. Besides I have all the nausea meds I need at home and I just wanted to go home.
Geoff thought the bananas dream was pretty funny and felt compelled to ask at the first few stop lights if I saw any bananas crossing the street. I glared at him and then decided to go to sleep.
I've taken it easy the rest of the day and I'm back to not being able to pick up my munchkins until I go back in next Tuesday...but I'm pretty sure that will be no big deal. In the meantime, I'm lounging around with ice packs because the combination of the internal sutures and external tegaderm (type of dressing) are driving me nuts. The site is pretty bruised too, but I'm sure it will heal up in no time and soon enough this will just be another part of the journey that's only significance was it symbolizing the end!
Anyway, he came to our room and crawled into our already overcrowded bed. It was kind of like how many bodies can you squeeze into a king sized bed?...two adults, two munchkins, a very large dog, and probably a cat or two (but I don't actually know if this part is true or not).
He went back to sleep immediately. Actually it was really sweet, but then I couldn't sleep because I started thinking about how my little boy is actually quickly becoming a big boy and rarely has time to cuddle his mommy.
Then my alarm went off and I decided to reset it for a few minutes because I just wanted to snooze. About two minutes later the phone rang. It was my parents asking me to unlock the front door...In other words they were so enthusiastic about coming to babysit today they showed up about a half hour early.
I sighed and got up to unlock the door and put the dogs out. While the dogs were out I ran downstairs to start another load of laundry, brought the dogs in, and hurried back upstairs to take a shower. A few minutes later and Geoff and I were on our way out the door. We dropped the dogs off at doggy daycare and headed to the hospital.
I was cold and crabby. I really wanted my port out but I was remembering my previous experiences and not looking forward to being poked and prodded. On the way, Geoff announced that he was going to come in with me for a bit so that made it a little better.
The person that checked me in congratulated me on getting my port out and gave me my pager for the lab. My lab experience included an extra iv poke...I was a little dehydrated from this past week.Oh well, it was all pretty quick and easy.
Then it was off to radiology. Geoff stayed as I got changed and checked in and then he headed off to work. A few minutes later I was off to the procedure room (not the picture on Facebook. I wished I would have brought my camera in with me). I was there for about an hour. My port was a little difficult coming out due to scar tissue. I refused sedation, but I did have Fentanyl again. My nurse gave me an extra dose when I flinched as the MD put his weight onto my chest to get leverage for pulling out the catheter. It wasn't the pressure that made me flinch but the internal tugging. The extra dose did the trick though...soon I was vacillating between attentiveness and snoozing.
At one point I woke up and realized that I was having one of those dreams where you are half awake and you think what you are dreaming is really happening. I'm sad to say that it was not at this point that I realized that I was not fully cognizant. You would think the fact that my dream was something about bananas wearing shoes and walking around would have tipped me off.
Needless to say the drugs distracted me from any discomfort. It was only a few minutes more before I was in recovery. Since I didn't actually have sedation I only had to stay an hour instead of two. Geoff was not surprised to find that I decided to omit the part about the bananas and other things, like nausea. I figured I managed to eat a lunch and keep it down so no need to get worked up about it. Besides I have all the nausea meds I need at home and I just wanted to go home.
Geoff thought the bananas dream was pretty funny and felt compelled to ask at the first few stop lights if I saw any bananas crossing the street. I glared at him and then decided to go to sleep.
I've taken it easy the rest of the day and I'm back to not being able to pick up my munchkins until I go back in next Tuesday...but I'm pretty sure that will be no big deal. In the meantime, I'm lounging around with ice packs because the combination of the internal sutures and external tegaderm (type of dressing) are driving me nuts. The site is pretty bruised too, but I'm sure it will heal up in no time and soon enough this will just be another part of the journey that's only significance was it symbolizing the end!
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Last procedure
I haven't been able to keep up with daily blog posts like I did before because I haven't figured out how to work them into my non-cancer life.
Lately I have struggled because I feel like I don't have a non-cancer life back, but I'm also done with cancer. Sort of. I am definitely still recovering, but that in itself is really hard for me. I've said it so many times before, but I can't emphasize enough how many times a day I think I should be better by now. I have to be honest with myself though, I'm not. I still feel like crap.
Having the infection last week and spending a week on antibiotics was pure hell. I've never had problems with antibiotics before, but this time holy "s%$#!" is all I can say. There were days were I was crying I was in such misery. I lost 6 pounds and I gave up on eating most foods. Even though it wasn't the best choice the only things I could stomach most days were cereal and/or Strawberry Egos, but a lot of times I would skip even those because I didn't want to deal with the repercussions.
I forced myself to eat yogurt in addition to taking multiple pro-biotic tabs a day. I also took the maximum antidiarrheal tabs I could in a day.
Yesterday I finally finished the antibiotics. In my world this was an event worthy of a party. No joking! Instead though, I took a big step and agreed to try going with Geoff to the gym for the first time since all this started. We kept it really basic and I really only did the elliptical for a half hour, but by the time I got home my ankles were swollen and I hurt in ways that I can't describe. This makes no sense to me, but I'm used to it. I took a nap, a warm bath and took the rest of the evening easy.
Today Geoff is at the cyclocross national championship. Last year we went as a family and had a blast, but this year I knew I couldn't handle the cold in addition to carrying a child and maneuvering difficult walking terrain to spectate.
It kinda sucks. I wish I were outside and I think back to how much fun we had last year...laughing at E ringing a cow bell and cheering on the racers.
In an effort to make everything work best for us Geoff only went to watch the pros race today. He helped me get the kids down for naps before he left. He really wanted to take E with him, but it was nap-time and it would be easiest for everyone if he went by himself.
Geoff has been had cyclocross racing on his "things to do" list for years and last year we spent the entire weekend at nationals. It was great motivation for both of us and it makes me sad that not only did another year go by that Geoff didn't get to cyclocross race, but we both got more out of shape and more overweight. Worse yet, things are so bad I can't even go as a spectator.
Neither of us would have ever predicted the turn of events to this past year, but tomorrow I have my closure. I get my port out. I can't emphasize how excited I am. I have talked extensively on this blog about all the drama I've had with my port and if nothing else that will be over. I won't have to worry about having it flushed at least once a month anymore. It will no longer look like I have a weird Lego inserted under my skin and hopefully the discomfort it regularly gives me will finally go away.
I had it put in August 20, 2012, the day before I started chemo. It was also the last day I was able to breastfeed Ella (update on that since many of you have asked...I have tried, and she is interested but she thinks it is more of a joke and tries and then shakes her head and tells me "no" because of all the time we spent telling her "no"...it still hurts so I think for now that's all I say on that). I'm sure that I will once again have lifting restrictions that will prevent me from holding my little girl and it hurts to think about, but I just keep telling myself that it is the last time. "This is it" and that makes me smile. I'm so excited to be done.
I have to be at the hospital at 7:30 and my procedure is at 9. It only lasts 45 minutes-1 hour and then a few hours of recovery. Geoff is going to drop me off before work and pick me up on his lunch break. I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed that it really is THAT simple!
Lately I have struggled because I feel like I don't have a non-cancer life back, but I'm also done with cancer. Sort of. I am definitely still recovering, but that in itself is really hard for me. I've said it so many times before, but I can't emphasize enough how many times a day I think I should be better by now. I have to be honest with myself though, I'm not. I still feel like crap.
Having the infection last week and spending a week on antibiotics was pure hell. I've never had problems with antibiotics before, but this time holy "s%$#!" is all I can say. There were days were I was crying I was in such misery. I lost 6 pounds and I gave up on eating most foods. Even though it wasn't the best choice the only things I could stomach most days were cereal and/or Strawberry Egos, but a lot of times I would skip even those because I didn't want to deal with the repercussions.
I forced myself to eat yogurt in addition to taking multiple pro-biotic tabs a day. I also took the maximum antidiarrheal tabs I could in a day.
Yesterday I finally finished the antibiotics. In my world this was an event worthy of a party. No joking! Instead though, I took a big step and agreed to try going with Geoff to the gym for the first time since all this started. We kept it really basic and I really only did the elliptical for a half hour, but by the time I got home my ankles were swollen and I hurt in ways that I can't describe. This makes no sense to me, but I'm used to it. I took a nap, a warm bath and took the rest of the evening easy.
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| 2012 National Cyclocross Championship |
It kinda sucks. I wish I were outside and I think back to how much fun we had last year...laughing at E ringing a cow bell and cheering on the racers.
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| more from 2012 |
In an effort to make everything work best for us Geoff only went to watch the pros race today. He helped me get the kids down for naps before he left. He really wanted to take E with him, but it was nap-time and it would be easiest for everyone if he went by himself.
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| Geoff and E in their matching fish hats last year |
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| Ella and I in our matching hats last year |
Neither of us would have ever predicted the turn of events to this past year, but tomorrow I have my closure. I get my port out. I can't emphasize how excited I am. I have talked extensively on this blog about all the drama I've had with my port and if nothing else that will be over. I won't have to worry about having it flushed at least once a month anymore. It will no longer look like I have a weird Lego inserted under my skin and hopefully the discomfort it regularly gives me will finally go away.I had it put in August 20, 2012, the day before I started chemo. It was also the last day I was able to breastfeed Ella (update on that since many of you have asked...I have tried, and she is interested but she thinks it is more of a joke and tries and then shakes her head and tells me "no" because of all the time we spent telling her "no"...it still hurts so I think for now that's all I say on that). I'm sure that I will once again have lifting restrictions that will prevent me from holding my little girl and it hurts to think about, but I just keep telling myself that it is the last time. "This is it" and that makes me smile. I'm so excited to be done.
I have to be at the hospital at 7:30 and my procedure is at 9. It only lasts 45 minutes-1 hour and then a few hours of recovery. Geoff is going to drop me off before work and pick me up on his lunch break. I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed that it really is THAT simple!
$20.
When I was in college and beyond (I had to write a thesis for my undergrad degree and procrastination for this amongst other things may have stretched longer than it should have) my parents were kind enough to help me with as much as they could. Sometimes I wonder if they helped me too much, but honestly, I hope to be able to do exactly the same for my own kids.
My mother worked to pay my rent. I worked too, but my parents wanted me to live in neighborhoods that were safer than most of my jobs would have afforded me. They would stock my fridge when they came to visit. My mom always had some surprise that she had bought me and she generally spoiled me.
My dad has words about all of this at times. He likes to pretend they were too soft on me and I asked for too much, but he was just as bad as my mom. There was a stretch of 5+ years when I was getting started on my own that every time my dad would visit he would hide money somewhere in my home/townhome. Sometimes it would be a $20. folded up and tucked neatly under knick-knack, sometimes it was tucked into a book, or the grand-mother clock I inherited from my grandparents, or often there would be some amount tucked in a picture frame. There were standard places that he "usually" hid money and then there were the obscure, random places, but if I called my mom and told her I was struggling with money I would usually get a phone call back a few minutes later with some random clue like "the duck has money" and I would have to search through all the rubber duck paraphernalia in my bathroom to find out where he hid the money. Sometimes it would be multiple clues so I could find $5. here and $10. there.
As I said this went on for years. When I went back for nursing school my mom was supportive, but my dad was pretty ticked at me. I remember multiple discussions about how much it was going to cost and how I was going to pay for it all. My mom made sure I knew that she would help in any little way she could and I put on my big girl pants and said I can do this. It didn't take long before my dad was back to his old tricks, but by this point I didn't need the help quite as much.
One of the last times I remember my dad doing this was when I graduated from nursing school. Someone gave me a frame for graduation and I framed my first nursing license. A few months later I found out there was a $50. tucked neatly into the back of the frame. I treasured that $50. and vowed to never spend it. Sometimes I would open up the frame and look at it, smile and put it back.
A few years ago I did have to spend it. It hurt at the time and I struggled with alternatives, but I remember knowing it was the right thing to do. Overtime I have realized I didn't really need that $50. to be there. To me it will always be there. It really was the thought that counts. It still makes me smile to pick up that frame and peek in the back even though I know there isn't anything there.
Today we went to church and afterwards took E down the hall to Sunday School. Then we headed back to sit and talk or play games. We each glanced around only to realize there were no empty tables or couches. We decided to ask if we could share a table and approached an older couple. They smiled and introduced themselves and suddenly we found ourselves in a pleasant conversation with them.
It didn't take long before cancer came up. It was a mere blip in our conversation, but next thing I knew they had quietly slipped us a $20 and told us to get lunch on them. I've never met these people before. I didn't do anything for them. Once again I'm overwhelmed with gratitude.
This has been a hard week. There were a few unforeseen financial complications, but the worst was Geoff's work realized after an audit that they had never taken money from his paychecks last year from our dependent care account (aka daycare flex fund). We had started our dependent care account about the same time as I started treatment so we didn't notice and now we owe $3000. His work was wonderfully supportive about letting us pay it back over time, but we don't have any the extra wiggle room in our budget right now so Geoff asked to borrow money from his parents. All of this sucked for Geoff the most.
Meanwhile I have tightened up our budget. I've been a crazy about cutting out unnecessary spending and couponing. Our frivolous spending for the weekend was spending $1.52 on balloons to play indoor balloon tennis/soccer/etc. to help the kids burn off extra energy.
Geoff gets paid again in a couple days and that will help, but for this weekend we really had no financial freedom. The surprise $20. reminded me of the money my dad would hide for me in college and how much it would save my butt. I feel fortunate to say that I used to need that $20. to buy groceries or to put gas in my car (I used to be able to fill up my car for $10...crazy!), but this time I have a full tank of gas, and a fridge and deep-freezer full of groceries. We have all the basics we need and then some (thanks to many of you!).
My mother worked to pay my rent. I worked too, but my parents wanted me to live in neighborhoods that were safer than most of my jobs would have afforded me. They would stock my fridge when they came to visit. My mom always had some surprise that she had bought me and she generally spoiled me.
My dad has words about all of this at times. He likes to pretend they were too soft on me and I asked for too much, but he was just as bad as my mom. There was a stretch of 5+ years when I was getting started on my own that every time my dad would visit he would hide money somewhere in my home/townhome. Sometimes it would be a $20. folded up and tucked neatly under knick-knack, sometimes it was tucked into a book, or the grand-mother clock I inherited from my grandparents, or often there would be some amount tucked in a picture frame. There were standard places that he "usually" hid money and then there were the obscure, random places, but if I called my mom and told her I was struggling with money I would usually get a phone call back a few minutes later with some random clue like "the duck has money" and I would have to search through all the rubber duck paraphernalia in my bathroom to find out where he hid the money. Sometimes it would be multiple clues so I could find $5. here and $10. there.
As I said this went on for years. When I went back for nursing school my mom was supportive, but my dad was pretty ticked at me. I remember multiple discussions about how much it was going to cost and how I was going to pay for it all. My mom made sure I knew that she would help in any little way she could and I put on my big girl pants and said I can do this. It didn't take long before my dad was back to his old tricks, but by this point I didn't need the help quite as much.
One of the last times I remember my dad doing this was when I graduated from nursing school. Someone gave me a frame for graduation and I framed my first nursing license. A few months later I found out there was a $50. tucked neatly into the back of the frame. I treasured that $50. and vowed to never spend it. Sometimes I would open up the frame and look at it, smile and put it back.
A few years ago I did have to spend it. It hurt at the time and I struggled with alternatives, but I remember knowing it was the right thing to do. Overtime I have realized I didn't really need that $50. to be there. To me it will always be there. It really was the thought that counts. It still makes me smile to pick up that frame and peek in the back even though I know there isn't anything there.
Today we went to church and afterwards took E down the hall to Sunday School. Then we headed back to sit and talk or play games. We each glanced around only to realize there were no empty tables or couches. We decided to ask if we could share a table and approached an older couple. They smiled and introduced themselves and suddenly we found ourselves in a pleasant conversation with them.
It didn't take long before cancer came up. It was a mere blip in our conversation, but next thing I knew they had quietly slipped us a $20 and told us to get lunch on them. I've never met these people before. I didn't do anything for them. Once again I'm overwhelmed with gratitude.
This has been a hard week. There were a few unforeseen financial complications, but the worst was Geoff's work realized after an audit that they had never taken money from his paychecks last year from our dependent care account (aka daycare flex fund). We had started our dependent care account about the same time as I started treatment so we didn't notice and now we owe $3000. His work was wonderfully supportive about letting us pay it back over time, but we don't have any the extra wiggle room in our budget right now so Geoff asked to borrow money from his parents. All of this sucked for Geoff the most.
Meanwhile I have tightened up our budget. I've been a crazy about cutting out unnecessary spending and couponing. Our frivolous spending for the weekend was spending $1.52 on balloons to play indoor balloon tennis/soccer/etc. to help the kids burn off extra energy.
Geoff gets paid again in a couple days and that will help, but for this weekend we really had no financial freedom. The surprise $20. reminded me of the money my dad would hide for me in college and how much it would save my butt. I feel fortunate to say that I used to need that $20. to buy groceries or to put gas in my car (I used to be able to fill up my car for $10...crazy!), but this time I have a full tank of gas, and a fridge and deep-freezer full of groceries. We have all the basics we need and then some (thanks to many of you!).
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Party Pooper
I have to say I sure do know how to live it up...(Disclaimer: This post may be TMI and/or graphic at time...don't say I didn't warn you)
It's been awhile since we had some excitement in our house (not really). It has been almost 8 weeks since my surgery. The surgery was much easier than I thought it would be and the only difficulty with recovery has been the fatigue from a combination of chemo, radiation, and surgery hitting me at once. Well, and diarrhea. I know TMI, but it's a reality from radiation. I had it all throughout radiation, it went away for a little bit, and then came back with a vengeance. As in, over the counter anti diarrhea medication no longer worked.
Not glamorous or desirable, but manageable. I stayed close to home and adjusted my diet some. Then the diarrhea went away and the nausea came back. I have plenty of nausea medication options, so again this issue was manageable.
I wrote last week about hoping I would be able to kick off the new year feeling like my old self, but I'm not quite there yet and that's ok. I really wish I could kick the fatigue, but I know it's all a part of the process and honestly, I'm pretty good at budgeting my energy most days.
About a week ago, I started having some light discharge (I'm not going to say from where...again TMI). This was not too surprising because all my surgical restrictions had recently been lifted and we had resumed life as normal...That's all I'm going to say on that. This past Friday I called my NP to talk to her about it and see if there was any reason I needed to visit the clinic. We talked and she left it up to me, but since I wasn't having any fevers or other signs of infection other than just feeling overall tired and crummy (which may have just been more of the same) I decided I didn't want to visit.
In fact I'm not scheduled to see her again for about 6 months. My last appointment was right before Christmas so the next time I have to be seen in clinic/have a pelvic exam is in March. This was monumental in my life and I'm excited to be at the point where I rotate my 3 month visits between my gyn oncologist and the radiation oncologist team. For me this was a big step...
So back to yesterday...I woke up very nauseated. I took some meds, but I felt miserable. My back hurt. My abdoment hurt. I still wasn't having fevers, but overall I was extremely tired. I took some meds and about mid day I had burst of energy and felt like I was feeling ok. Then the drainage changed...*warning: I'm about to nauseate you* it looked like pus...Those who know me know I LOVE pus, but not when it is associated with my body. G-R-O-S-S! Still I knew if I called the oncall line they would tell me to visit the emergency dept. and I figured that would be the kiss of death to my dignity, so I opted to tough it out until Monday.
Fast forward a few hours later. Hours mostly spent napping. I decided that if I declined overnight in an amount equivalent from Friday to Saturday I was going to have a VERY miserable Sunday. Worse yet, I didn't know what I would do on Monday when I have no daycare options. I caved and had the on-call for gyn oncology department called.
He was super speedy and called me right back. I told him what was going on and tried to convince him that skipping the emergency visit and calling in a prescription for a broad spectrum antibiotic would be a great option. I knew I had no chance, but hey, can't blame me for trying. Of course, it was a no go. In order to preserve my dignity and have some continuity he suggested I ask for the gyn on-call when I got to UW.
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| The gowns at UW aren't my color... |
The waiting room was nearly empty and I was taken back to triage nearly immediately. In triage my electronic record was pulled up as I explained why I was visiting. The immediate response? "We're going to get you in a room right away. I'm going to go talk to my charge nurse."
I was excited to find my room was trauma bay 2. I LOVE the trauma bays at UW. They are new, state
of the art, and turn into ORs if needed. I was like a kid in a candy shop. I got to spend time in one when I wasn't working and I wasn't a trauma patient. I had time to read all the algorithms on the walls (nerdy right?) and look at the layout of the whole getup. I had even more fun explaining everything to Geoff.
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| Algorithms...who doesn't LOVE algorithms? |
My nurse was amazing, as was the rest of the team. I never had to ask for the gyn resident on-call, because the intern I talked to on the phone actually paged the 3rd year gyn onc resident and she asked the ED to page her as soon as I arrived. She showed up about 15 minutes later.
This barely does any justice to how awesome she was, but her first concern was turning around the bed/cart in the room for privacy when she did her exam.This way if anyone walked in without knocking, the entire ED wouldn't get a show. She did her exam and expressed concern that my surgical sutures were dehiscing (in other words beginning to open up or come apart) or I had an abcess in my suture line (to give you an idea of where my suture line is...my uterus and my cervix were removed...google female anatomy if you need to know what comes next). She took cultures and then told me she was going to call the gyn onc fellow and have him come in too. She also ordered a CT scan.
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| Wild drinking on a Saturday night |
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| Ella before falling asleep |
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| E watching "The Gruffalo" (a kid's movie) for the 8779827397 time |
We didn't leave until 2 am. It took awhile to get the results from CT. The final diagnosis was some inflammation and infection and the treatment was *drum roll please* a prescription for Augmentin (a broad spectrum antibiotic). I laugh, but I understand and appreciate all the care everyone took to make sure that all bases were covered.
My only complaint was rushing home so I could get to my bathroom. I spent the rest of today enjoying the newly finished (Thursday) bathroom or in bed. Since E didn't get to sleep until nearly 3 am and Ella woke up when we got home and kept Geoff up until 4 am we made it a day of staying in bed as much as possible.
 |
| E snuggling with Geoff while watching "The Gruffalo" again atop Ella's stroller |
I finally got up at 7 pm for dinner (the kids napped late too). After dinner I ran the kids a bath and sat with them for all of 5 minutes before Ella ended the party by pooping in the tub. The next 30 minutes was a mad dash of getting everyone and everything out of the tub, cleaning and bleaching the tub and toys, re-bathing the kids and finally, getting them ready for bed. I really should resist, but I have to say "I'm pooped."
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Night-night
Overall, today was a better day. The kids both have mini colds and I'm still not feeling great, but we took it easy together and had a pretty good day.
My parents stopped by for lunch. My dad had an appointment at the VA in Milwaukee so they decided to just drive the hour over to our house to check in. It was especially nice because they brought lunch and it is my Dad's birthday.
I told E they were coming and that it was Grandpa's birthday this morning. Then I promptly forgot that I told him. When my parents showed up both kids were excited to see Grandma and Grandpa. As they were still scrambling to get to my mom to hug her, I heard E quietly say "Happy Birthday Grandpa." It was just about the cutest thing ever.
Before my parents left, my mom went for a quick ride in the car with Ella and I to get Ella to sleep. I wanted to show her some place in town that I think would make a great birth center some day (I'm sure it will be long gone in a few years when I'm ready for it) and we wanted to try to get Ella to sleep. Ella has always been that kid that falls asleep in the car and with her not feeling well, I'm taking the easy way out (Geoff didn't follow my suggestion tonight and it only took a few hours to get her to sleep...). As my mom and I pulled out of the driveway, we heard Ella say clearly from the backseat "night-night."
We both giggled. It took Ella about 5 blocks before she was asleep. Hopefully it will take me even less time to fall asleep tonight.
My parents stopped by for lunch. My dad had an appointment at the VA in Milwaukee so they decided to just drive the hour over to our house to check in. It was especially nice because they brought lunch and it is my Dad's birthday.
I told E they were coming and that it was Grandpa's birthday this morning. Then I promptly forgot that I told him. When my parents showed up both kids were excited to see Grandma and Grandpa. As they were still scrambling to get to my mom to hug her, I heard E quietly say "Happy Birthday Grandpa." It was just about the cutest thing ever.
Before my parents left, my mom went for a quick ride in the car with Ella and I to get Ella to sleep. I wanted to show her some place in town that I think would make a great birth center some day (I'm sure it will be long gone in a few years when I'm ready for it) and we wanted to try to get Ella to sleep. Ella has always been that kid that falls asleep in the car and with her not feeling well, I'm taking the easy way out (Geoff didn't follow my suggestion tonight and it only took a few hours to get her to sleep...). As my mom and I pulled out of the driveway, we heard Ella say clearly from the backseat "night-night."
We both giggled. It took Ella about 5 blocks before she was asleep. Hopefully it will take me even less time to fall asleep tonight.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
New Years
I have been waiting for 2013 ever since I decided to go back to midwifery school. I have known all along that I will graduate in 2013, so I am pretty happy that it is now "2013." I can finally say I graduate later this year instead of next year or in a couple years...it's down to months, literally (though it will late 2013 in case you are wondering).
I'm even more happy that it's 2013 because I am done with the year I found I had cancer. That was 2012. I won't lie, I was hoping to ring in the New Year feeling like a new person, but I didn't. I was in bed at midnight. I was awake, but in bed waiting for my pain meds to kick in and my heating pads to help.
Yesterday it worked out to be the day that E would finally get his first chance to ride a pony by himself (sort of)...As usual with kids, E was excited up until the actual moment we arrived at the stable. Then he decided he no longer wanted to ride. In the end it took, it took me walking next to E and the pony so he could hold my hand (or depending on his mood...I would hold onto him). It took our wonderful friend, Mary, to lead the pony, along with another new friend leading on the other side of the pony, and Geoff walking with another pony next to us (this one was for the comfort level of the ponies) and taking pictures/video. Oh and other friends, hanging out with Ella...ya, no big deal. (Don't judge my extremely unfashionable stay-puff marshmallow appearance...I was going for warm)
The pony-capades didn't last very long, but of course it was enough to wipe me out. We all went home to take naps. I stayed plenty warm while we were in the barn, but as usual I couldn't get home and into bed fast enough. We all took naps that seemed to me to be too brief and then we got ready to go to one of Madison's family friendly New Year's bashes. We bought tickets ahead of time to go to party at Monona Terrace which included magician, jugglers, a bubble wonder show, bouncy houses, circus tricks, and a train. We chose it for the train and bounce houses. I really was exhausted, but there was no way we were going to let the kids down. Initially the plan was to all get dressed up in fun New Year's Eve dressy/flashy clothes and we would change the kids into pjs before we left the party to come home (it had a 9:30 countdown so it was going to be late...). In the end though we decided for ease of the kids and for my warmth/comfort to do pjs for the kids and comfy clothes for us (although Ella had a tutu over her pjs).
We had everything ready to basically put them in the car and hope they fell asleep on the way home. Ella did, E didn't. Once we got home our focus was taking dogs outside, bringing them in, getting E to bed, feeding cats, and going to bed ourselves. We are pretty exciting!
The original plan for us was to stay up just the two of us and play games and watch a movie, but we knew that based off how I was feeling, today was not going to be good so we tried to head it off as best as possible. I'm not sure it helped. Today was rough. Really rough. At one point this afternoon Geoff came upstairs to our room to find me crying in the bed. A month ago, I expected that by this time I would be feeling great, but I don't. I do fine most of the time and I know I "look great," but I don't feel it. All of this is still an adjustment for me. It's a new year. I want to move beyond it, but my body isn't there yet. I have great expectations and aspirations, but I still find that I have to constantly adjust and lower them. I start school again next Monday and I'm scared. I did fine in school through all my treatments and I didn't even want to take a break. Now I'm wondering how I'm ever going to manage...
The last few days we've spent much of our free time talking about me graduating from school and practicing as a midwife and how our lives will change both good and bad. It's been exciting to talk about. We've talked endlessly about my dream of opening my own birth center and it all seems so tangible and then I have a rough day and I'm reminded how quickly everything can change. Today that reality hit hard. There have been other bad days for me physically and others I love dearly this past week and I think everything finally hit me at once. Combine that with wonderful news that some friends of ours welcomed their third child into the world this morning...wonderful, but painful for me. I'm soo soo happy for their family and I hope we get to meet her soon, but it's that whole we wanted a third child and now we can't have one thing...Most of the time it's fine, we make up for it by thinking about how much easier it will be travel to Australia or New Zealand or wherever with only two, but today it was just timing...
Of course it may have been hormones too because as all of this was happening it was pretty apparent that I was boiling over with a miserable hot flash. Ah, such a glamorous life I lead...
While I sniveled and apologized to Geoff for all I am putting him through and tried to stop my snowball of self-pity, he provided the words I really needed to get this year started on the right track. "Even on your worst days you and the kids are the highlight of my day. Cancer hasn't changed that." It's funny how two sentences can change everything. It WILL be a good year!
I'm even more happy that it's 2013 because I am done with the year I found I had cancer. That was 2012. I won't lie, I was hoping to ring in the New Year feeling like a new person, but I didn't. I was in bed at midnight. I was awake, but in bed waiting for my pain meds to kick in and my heating pads to help.
The pony-capades didn't last very long, but of course it was enough to wipe me out. We all went home to take naps. I stayed plenty warm while we were in the barn, but as usual I couldn't get home and into bed fast enough. We all took naps that seemed to me to be too brief and then we got ready to go to one of Madison's family friendly New Year's bashes. We bought tickets ahead of time to go to party at Monona Terrace which included magician, jugglers, a bubble wonder show, bouncy houses, circus tricks, and a train. We chose it for the train and bounce houses. I really was exhausted, but there was no way we were going to let the kids down. Initially the plan was to all get dressed up in fun New Year's Eve dressy/flashy clothes and we would change the kids into pjs before we left the party to come home (it had a 9:30 countdown so it was going to be late...). In the end though we decided for ease of the kids and for my warmth/comfort to do pjs for the kids and comfy clothes for us (although Ella had a tutu over her pjs).We had everything ready to basically put them in the car and hope they fell asleep on the way home. Ella did, E didn't. Once we got home our focus was taking dogs outside, bringing them in, getting E to bed, feeding cats, and going to bed ourselves. We are pretty exciting!
The original plan for us was to stay up just the two of us and play games and watch a movie, but we knew that based off how I was feeling, today was not going to be good so we tried to head it off as best as possible. I'm not sure it helped. Today was rough. Really rough. At one point this afternoon Geoff came upstairs to our room to find me crying in the bed. A month ago, I expected that by this time I would be feeling great, but I don't. I do fine most of the time and I know I "look great," but I don't feel it. All of this is still an adjustment for me. It's a new year. I want to move beyond it, but my body isn't there yet. I have great expectations and aspirations, but I still find that I have to constantly adjust and lower them. I start school again next Monday and I'm scared. I did fine in school through all my treatments and I didn't even want to take a break. Now I'm wondering how I'm ever going to manage...
The last few days we've spent much of our free time talking about me graduating from school and practicing as a midwife and how our lives will change both good and bad. It's been exciting to talk about. We've talked endlessly about my dream of opening my own birth center and it all seems so tangible and then I have a rough day and I'm reminded how quickly everything can change. Today that reality hit hard. There have been other bad days for me physically and others I love dearly this past week and I think everything finally hit me at once. Combine that with wonderful news that some friends of ours welcomed their third child into the world this morning...wonderful, but painful for me. I'm soo soo happy for their family and I hope we get to meet her soon, but it's that whole we wanted a third child and now we can't have one thing...Most of the time it's fine, we make up for it by thinking about how much easier it will be travel to Australia or New Zealand or wherever with only two, but today it was just timing...
Of course it may have been hormones too because as all of this was happening it was pretty apparent that I was boiling over with a miserable hot flash. Ah, such a glamorous life I lead...
While I sniveled and apologized to Geoff for all I am putting him through and tried to stop my snowball of self-pity, he provided the words I really needed to get this year started on the right track. "Even on your worst days you and the kids are the highlight of my day. Cancer hasn't changed that." It's funny how two sentences can change everything. It WILL be a good year!
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