Reflection

I thought that I would be able to post a blog each day as I experienced this disgusting disease and it's treatments, but I have found that everything has happened so fast for me that by the time I sit in front of my computer to write, I am exhausted and don't even want to talk about anything to do with cancer. I had borderline tumors removed in August of '08. There is no prescribed treatments for these. Good. These are 95% 'home-free' kinda 'wanna-be cancer' tumors that require excision/debulking but no chemo/radiation. Then, towards the end of December I began to feel 'full'. And you all know that feeling and what it means to us. I had a rediculously painful paracentesis (which usually aren't) that yielded only 500cc. A half quart with the rest being interloculated...i.e., can't get to the pocketed fluids with one pass of the needle. Okay, so we test the fluid for three weeks with all kinds of tests because they are coming up with inconclusive results. So, late January we have a look-see by laparoscopy, take more samples and wait some more and finally decide we have stage 3 primary peritoneal cancer. However, prior to all that in EARLY January, I first had to be stabilized because I developed an intestinal blockage with an ileus (bowels decide to go on strike) and had to endure a nasal tube (get medicated prior, it goes down SOO much more easily) for a week. And during that week I developed clots in my lungs, fluid in both my lungs, and major ugly looking pig-like feet full of fluid. And sleeping upright like a horse so I can breath! Like the rest of my treatment team I am totally awed by the swiftness of events for me but also GRATEFUL that I have such a wonderful team of caregivers that make all this so TOTALLY bearable. It makes those 7 thoracenteses I have had, well...BEARABLE. And you know, even if the care were only so-so, what can you do? I can do this: I have to wiggle my brain around the events, the emotions, so that I, me, myself, can bear whatever is at hand. I think of the alternatives...shun them...then zero in on the good of the situation at hand...because that is ALL I have. I have the power to be grateful. I have the power to hate. I have the power to cry if I need the release...to say, "Excuse me, but I just have to do this for a moment," and cry my eyes out and finish that which was at hand. And have NO EMBARASSMENT about it. If ever you were allowed to cry, NOW is it. So I do and I feel better. Me...I feel better. And that is what counts. So for now, today, I feel better. I had my thoracentesis yesterday. I can breath better today. I still sleep sitting up but in a hospital bed so my feet no longer swell to Dumbo size and my back has support. My rash is resolving (they think I am allergic to my chemo) because of the steroids and benadryl I am taking. The clots in my lungs will hopefully dissolve and no new ones form while I inject myself with arixtra (I am allergic to lovenox). I am GRATEFUL I have insurance that pays for the $4,000 the arixtra costs (how out of control is THAT??). And look, I have found a place I can be with others that feel me and I feel them. A big tight hug for you. They feel good.