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.