The original purpose of this blog was to stay connected to friends and family back in Iowa when Isaac and I moved to Michigan for his medical schooling. When I got diagnosed with cancer a few weeks after moving, it took on a new purpose--being open with people about our struggles while navigating through them.
This year, we celebrated our anniversary on May 8th. It was awesome. I had to close at Nordstrom and Isaac worked in the morning, so we didn't get to do anything the day of. However, the morning after, I had my routine PET/CT scan and then was off for the day.
Since we were no longer preventing pregnancy, the hospital had to do a blood test for pregnancy before I could get my scan. Had I realized how long they had to wait for the labs to get back, I might have stopped by the morning before so I didn't have to sit around for an hour, but lesson learned. While I was waiting to get injected with the radioactive glucose, the tech and I were chatting about life. When you get tests like this done regularly, you start to get to know the people at the hospital pretty well. This guy was new to me--I'd only had him once before--so we were talking about family and how long he'd been working as a tech.
At some point in the conversation, he started talking about the statistics of how many people have actually been pregnant when they come in for their PET/CT scan.
Zero.
In his 12+ years of working as a radiology tech, he said he'd never had a result come back positive. That's not exactly comforting. I wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but it indicated to me there's a pretty strong correlation between people who get PET/CTs and not being pregnant. Maybe it's because a majority of the people he sees are older, maybe it's because there's an unknown side effect of getting them regularly, or who knows what.... but I was kind of bummed when he told me that.
When the lab finally called, he went into the other room to hear the results and I was straining my ears to see if there was any surprise in his voice that might indicate I was pregnant. Nope. None at all. By the time he hung up the phone I was settled in and ready to get injected, even though I was bummed. He came back in the room and surprise, surprise: "Well ma'am, you're not going to be able to get your scan done today because we don't want to bake the baby!"
I'm sure I had a really big smile on my face but the only thing that absorbed at that point was that I wasn't going to be able to get my PET/CT. Still, I walked out of the hospital grinning like a goon. And I still smile now remembering the feeling. I started to process it on the way home and screamed and cried a couple of times in the car on my way home. Isaac was supposed to be at the hospital that morning, so when I pulled into our apartment complex and saw his car there, I was even more excited that I'd be able to tell him right away.
Now, my husband is a man of one face. His expression rarely changes, regardless of the circumstance. I have no idea how that works, because everything I feel shows on my face. I decided I'd try and play the "one-face" game when I told him to see if I could get a reaction out of him. The conversation went something like this-
Isaac: "How did your scan go?"
Me: "I don't know."
Isaac: "Well, how do you think it went?" (You normally have to wait a few days to get results)
Me: "I don't know. I didn't have one."
Isaac: "Why?"
Me: "We're pregnant."
Isaac: "What?"
AND HIS FACIAL EXPRESSION NEVER CHANGED!!!!!! I tried, ladies and gentlemen. I tried. At first he thought I was joking, because I was doing a good job at hiding my own excitement. Once he finally understood that I wasn't pranking him, he did crack a smile and laugh a bit.
Over the last couple of weeks, we've started doing things that I'm sure other parents-to-be do: talking about the baby, discussing names, figuring out insurance, finances, etc... We've gotten a little attached to it and were envisioning a future with a child.
I say "were" because this morning I miscarried.
This week has been crazy, stress-wise. My closest friend in Michigan, Pearl, has packed up and is moving to Texas today. The cosmetic line that I manage started a gift with purchase on Wednesday (which I worked a 12-hour shift for). And today we started a department-wide event that will run through today and tomorrow and will draw in hundreds of women and lots of chaos.
When I arrived at work this morning, I started to bleed a little bit. I only noticed because I'm out of my "good" undergarments and I felt like I was getting an underwear line that was showing. I went to adjust it, and while using the facilities, saw blood. Bright red blood. Pregnant women shouldn't bleed.
I called my husband because he always knows what to do, and after giving me an over-the-phone exam, he came and picked me up. Off to the ER we went. During our 3-hour stay there, I bled and bled and bled. Chunks of blood. I was given a foley catheter (a pinch uncomfortable getting it in, by the way) and they took me to ultrasound to take images of my uterus and ovaries. After that, a few blood labs, and a pelvic exam, the doctor told Isaac and I that my pregnancy hormone had dropped significantly, indicating I was most likely no longer carrying.
So we were pregnant.
And now we're not.
I'm exhausted. There's the unwritten rule that you don't share that you're pregnant until you're past the 12-week mark. I was too excited, so I told quite a few people... probably half of the ladies I work with, some friends, and my three closest girlfriends. After we left the hospital I sent out a mass text letting everyone know.
The rest of today has been filled with talking to my husband and my mom, naps, cramps, and getting lots of hugs and kisses from my husband. He even took a nap with me, even though he wasn't tired--which is a HUGE thing. I've gotten a ton of supportive texts and a couple of extremely sweet voicemails.
Thank you, to those of you who have given me encouragement. It's still painful, but less.
We're going to keep "not preventing," but we'll see what happens. The silver lining is that we know we CAN get pregnant. Now to see if they'll ever stick...
Showing posts with label PET/CT scan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PET/CT scan. Show all posts
May 24, 2013
Dec 12, 2012
Synthroid
I had another PET scan last week. By now, they're routine and are meant to help us catch any early developing problems. Generally I don't even think about them, because I expect everything to be fine. This past week, however, I had a feeling that something was off.
I met with Dr. Knechtl yesterday and explained that my scan looked great, except for my throat/thyroid area. It was lighting up a little bit, which means that there is some activity going on there that shouldn't be. He asked if I had any history of thyroid problems, and when I relayed that my mom has hypothyroidism, I was sent downstairs to the lab to have more blood drawn, then be on my merry way.
Now, I'm not the type to ask a million questions--if it's supposed to be, it will be--but when I told my husband about the scan results, he had several. What's are my t3 and t4 levels? What about my TSH? Did they check for a tumor marker?
Uhhh...... ?
All I know is that I had to get more blood drawn, and instead of the usual purple and yellow tubes, this time they used red.
Shouldn't that be enough information, babe?
No.
No? You did take phlebotomy, didn't you? Isn't the tube color enough for you to know what's going on?
Ashley! No!
Then he shakes his head and starts to laugh. Although we're still newlyweds in a lot of areas, discussing our medical issues is something we're really great at. He asks questions; I say "I don't know." I call whichever physician I'm working with, put them on speakerphone and spend a minute or two relaying questions and answers back and forth between the two of them, eventually get tired of pretending like I know what they're talking about and hand the phone to Isaac, then spend the remainder of the phone conversation trying to detect any facial expression changes on him.
This morning, we're at the point in this process where I've called the physician but was transferred to the lab nurse, who read me my results, but couldn't answer any of his other questions. I think her and I were getting extremely confused between Isaac's questions and my translations of them.
It sounds like I've got hypothyroidism. Which is NOT the worst thing in the world. I have to take drugs for the rest of my life (thanks, Mom) but at least it's an easy fix.
Best of all, it doesn't involve chemotherapy.
Hallelujah!!!
I met with Dr. Knechtl yesterday and explained that my scan looked great, except for my throat/thyroid area. It was lighting up a little bit, which means that there is some activity going on there that shouldn't be. He asked if I had any history of thyroid problems, and when I relayed that my mom has hypothyroidism, I was sent downstairs to the lab to have more blood drawn, then be on my merry way.
Now, I'm not the type to ask a million questions--if it's supposed to be, it will be--but when I told my husband about the scan results, he had several. What's are my t3 and t4 levels? What about my TSH? Did they check for a tumor marker?
Uhhh...... ?
All I know is that I had to get more blood drawn, and instead of the usual purple and yellow tubes, this time they used red.
Shouldn't that be enough information, babe?
No.
No? You did take phlebotomy, didn't you? Isn't the tube color enough for you to know what's going on?
Ashley! No!
Then he shakes his head and starts to laugh. Although we're still newlyweds in a lot of areas, discussing our medical issues is something we're really great at. He asks questions; I say "I don't know." I call whichever physician I'm working with, put them on speakerphone and spend a minute or two relaying questions and answers back and forth between the two of them, eventually get tired of pretending like I know what they're talking about and hand the phone to Isaac, then spend the remainder of the phone conversation trying to detect any facial expression changes on him.
This morning, we're at the point in this process where I've called the physician but was transferred to the lab nurse, who read me my results, but couldn't answer any of his other questions. I think her and I were getting extremely confused between Isaac's questions and my translations of them.
It sounds like I've got hypothyroidism. Which is NOT the worst thing in the world. I have to take drugs for the rest of my life (thanks, Mom) but at least it's an easy fix.
Best of all, it doesn't involve chemotherapy.
Hallelujah!!!
Jun 5, 2012
A Day of Surprises
Tomorrow should be a pretty interesting day! The early morning hours will bring my PET scan, which will put an end to my no-carb, no-sugar diet (required for 24-hours pre-scan). That will make me a much more agreeable person.
Then at 4:30, Isaac and I have our first ever marriage counseling session. Who knows what that will bring?
And to top it off, we'll be going over to some friend's for a night of pizza, games, and probably S'mores.
On a different note, I've been spending some time lately brainstorming with Isaac about how to promote myself at the salon more. So far, we've decided that I should get some flyers out, try to see if I can be included in the "new student" packet at the nearby colleges, and keep handing my card out.
If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them. Literally. Please. I would REALLY like to.
Have a beautiful night!
Then at 4:30, Isaac and I have our first ever marriage counseling session. Who knows what that will bring?
And to top it off, we'll be going over to some friend's for a night of pizza, games, and probably S'mores.
On a different note, I've been spending some time lately brainstorming with Isaac about how to promote myself at the salon more. So far, we've decided that I should get some flyers out, try to see if I can be included in the "new student" packet at the nearby colleges, and keep handing my card out.
If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them. Literally. Please. I would REALLY like to.
Have a beautiful night!
Dec 9, 2011
Ladies' Night
Last night Kim and I got all dressed up to go out to J. Barbaro's ladies' night. Not red carpet dressed because it's too cold, but nicely dressed--which included heels. We assumed it'd probably be a good idea to arrive fashionably late, since that's what people on television do, and headed out toward the mall around 6:30pm.
In my head I had visions of lots of fancy, classy ladies wearing designer clothes sipping mimosas and cosmepolitans while browsing the latest men's fashions for their husbands. I thought it'd be one of those events where I'd have to keep my eyebrows raised the whole time in order to appear like, yes, I'd had plastic surgery too and I would need to be careful not to smile too big because according to Tyra, it makes your eyes squinty and emphasizes wrinkle lines in your face and that's not considered very attractive.
Before heading to ladies' night though, we headed over to Nordstrom to visit Karla, Kim's mom. Karla is one of those tiny, very fashionable mothers, who, while not a "housewife" herself, probably has a lot of insight on how to deal with those who are. (And when I say "housewife," I'm referring to women who possess similar traits to Danielle Staub.... just a little bit crazy...) She helped me get mentally prepared and even more important, helped me realize that my pocked on my blazer was sewn shut and could very easily be opened for use (aka, holding my business cards).
Kim and I then proceeded to head to the party. We arrived at the storefront and for a moment, wondered if we'd arrived on the wrong night. There was literally nobody in the store, aside from the workers. Well, I guess that's a little bit of a lie... there was a couple that was leaving as we walked by the door. And yes, I did say, BY the door. We were so thrown off that we didn't even stop in. Clearly we were mistaken about this event.
After talking for a minute, trying to figure out what in the world was going on, we decided to go eat pizza instead. However, getting to the restaurant required walking by the store again and so as we made our way to devour a delicious plate of carbs and cheese, Kim asked if I was going to go in. It felt kind of like a dare, so I did. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I decided that instead of networking with the absent fancy ladies, I would network with the store owner instead. Unfortunately, he was in a meeting, so the sales associate recommended we come back in about a half hour.
To the pizza shop we went.
By this time, our feet were on FIRE, as neither one of us regularly (or even irregularly) wear heels and so the booth in California Pizza Kitchen was greatly appreciated. I had a 5-cheese and tomato pizza and Kim had BBQ chicken. They were both extremely delicious. I probably appreciated it even more than normal too, since I hadn't been allowed to eat carbs or sugar yesterday for my PET/CT scan.
We stopped back at J. Barbaro and very awkwardly were introduced to the owner. I say awkwardly because when we first walked into the store, we said hello to a man on our way toward the sales associate, thinking he was a customer since he wasn't really dressed too snazzy. Then, when the associate went to introduce us to the owner, we went back to that same man, interrupted his phone call with his child, and said hello. Embarrassing. To make matters more confusing, there was another man in the store who looked a lot like Santa Clause dressed in a very nice suit and if I had walked in there blindly, I would have mistaken HIM for the owner. I felt like I had no idea what was going on.
Karla hadn't taken her break at work yet so we made our way back to Nordstrom to report on the night and visit with her for a bit and then picked up a movie at Redbox to finish off the night.
Lesson of the night: go big or go home.
And since they hadn't gone big, we went home.
In my head I had visions of lots of fancy, classy ladies wearing designer clothes sipping mimosas and cosmepolitans while browsing the latest men's fashions for their husbands. I thought it'd be one of those events where I'd have to keep my eyebrows raised the whole time in order to appear like, yes, I'd had plastic surgery too and I would need to be careful not to smile too big because according to Tyra, it makes your eyes squinty and emphasizes wrinkle lines in your face and that's not considered very attractive.
Before heading to ladies' night though, we headed over to Nordstrom to visit Karla, Kim's mom. Karla is one of those tiny, very fashionable mothers, who, while not a "housewife" herself, probably has a lot of insight on how to deal with those who are. (And when I say "housewife," I'm referring to women who possess similar traits to Danielle Staub.... just a little bit crazy...) She helped me get mentally prepared and even more important, helped me realize that my pocked on my blazer was sewn shut and could very easily be opened for use (aka, holding my business cards).
Kim and I then proceeded to head to the party. We arrived at the storefront and for a moment, wondered if we'd arrived on the wrong night. There was literally nobody in the store, aside from the workers. Well, I guess that's a little bit of a lie... there was a couple that was leaving as we walked by the door. And yes, I did say, BY the door. We were so thrown off that we didn't even stop in. Clearly we were mistaken about this event.
After talking for a minute, trying to figure out what in the world was going on, we decided to go eat pizza instead. However, getting to the restaurant required walking by the store again and so as we made our way to devour a delicious plate of carbs and cheese, Kim asked if I was going to go in. It felt kind of like a dare, so I did. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I decided that instead of networking with the absent fancy ladies, I would network with the store owner instead. Unfortunately, he was in a meeting, so the sales associate recommended we come back in about a half hour.
To the pizza shop we went.
By this time, our feet were on FIRE, as neither one of us regularly (or even irregularly) wear heels and so the booth in California Pizza Kitchen was greatly appreciated. I had a 5-cheese and tomato pizza and Kim had BBQ chicken. They were both extremely delicious. I probably appreciated it even more than normal too, since I hadn't been allowed to eat carbs or sugar yesterday for my PET/CT scan.
We stopped back at J. Barbaro and very awkwardly were introduced to the owner. I say awkwardly because when we first walked into the store, we said hello to a man on our way toward the sales associate, thinking he was a customer since he wasn't really dressed too snazzy. Then, when the associate went to introduce us to the owner, we went back to that same man, interrupted his phone call with his child, and said hello. Embarrassing. To make matters more confusing, there was another man in the store who looked a lot like Santa Clause dressed in a very nice suit and if I had walked in there blindly, I would have mistaken HIM for the owner. I felt like I had no idea what was going on.
Karla hadn't taken her break at work yet so we made our way back to Nordstrom to report on the night and visit with her for a bit and then picked up a movie at Redbox to finish off the night.
Lesson of the night: go big or go home.
And since they hadn't gone big, we went home.
Sep 14, 2011
THE END IS NEAR!!!!!!!!
Oh dear framily and fends... I mean, family and friends. Goodness! I'm so excited I can barely type correctly!!! Anyway, we went to the oncologist today and guess what?!?
I AM ESSENTIALLY CANCER FREE!!!!
I had mass in my right clavicular region, one under my right armpit, and the largest mass was beside my right lung. There was also a small mass near the middle of my chest on the right side, and one lonely speck near my lower left kidney.
Translated: I had a bunch of crap in my upper right chest/rib region and one little straggler on the left side by my kidney.
We compared the PET/CT scans today (3D images of my insides) and it is a miracle!! NONE of the masses showed up on the scan except for the lonesome left-side booger. I guess since he didn't have any friends to begin with, nobody informed him that the party's over so he's still hanging out. Like that awkward person who you sticks around til midnight and forever more when all you really want to do is go to bed because you have to get up at 5am. Yep. That's him.
So. In effort to communicate with him that I'm moving on and I have other things to do, we're going to continue on with two more treatments in hopes that he catches on. If he's still playing dense after that, we're going to send him a more direct message by beaming him in the face with some radiation. If he doesn't catch on to THAT... well, I'm not sure what the medical equivalent of forcefully removing someone is (surgery, maybe?) but that would probably be the next and final step.
In the meantime: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for your prayers, your support, listening to me when I've called or Skyped with you, for allowing me to share my emotions about the whole process and not condemning along the way.
A special thank you goes to my beautiful husband who has played chemo-chauffeur, nurse, pharmacist, provided listening ears, who has been a strong shoulder to cry on, and who has continued to verbalize that he thinks I'm hot. You know how to make a girl feel good, babe! :) I love you so much!!
More special thank you's go out to both my Iowa families, who have volunteered their time, gas money, and support to come out and visit us. You brought that "home" comfort with you that I'm working on developing out here.
Thank you again to anyone and everyone else who has prayed for the cancer to be defeated. I am SO incredibly grateful!!!!!!! I don't even know that there is a way to explain in words how truly blessed we are to have you interceding on our behalves. Thank you so much!
I AM ESSENTIALLY CANCER FREE!!!!
I had mass in my right clavicular region, one under my right armpit, and the largest mass was beside my right lung. There was also a small mass near the middle of my chest on the right side, and one lonely speck near my lower left kidney.
Translated: I had a bunch of crap in my upper right chest/rib region and one little straggler on the left side by my kidney.
We compared the PET/CT scans today (3D images of my insides) and it is a miracle!! NONE of the masses showed up on the scan except for the lonesome left-side booger. I guess since he didn't have any friends to begin with, nobody informed him that the party's over so he's still hanging out. Like that awkward person who you sticks around til midnight and forever more when all you really want to do is go to bed because you have to get up at 5am. Yep. That's him.
So. In effort to communicate with him that I'm moving on and I have other things to do, we're going to continue on with two more treatments in hopes that he catches on. If he's still playing dense after that, we're going to send him a more direct message by beaming him in the face with some radiation. If he doesn't catch on to THAT... well, I'm not sure what the medical equivalent of forcefully removing someone is (surgery, maybe?) but that would probably be the next and final step.
In the meantime: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for your prayers, your support, listening to me when I've called or Skyped with you, for allowing me to share my emotions about the whole process and not condemning along the way.
A special thank you goes to my beautiful husband who has played chemo-chauffeur, nurse, pharmacist, provided listening ears, who has been a strong shoulder to cry on, and who has continued to verbalize that he thinks I'm hot. You know how to make a girl feel good, babe! :) I love you so much!!
More special thank you's go out to both my Iowa families, who have volunteered their time, gas money, and support to come out and visit us. You brought that "home" comfort with you that I'm working on developing out here.
Thank you again to anyone and everyone else who has prayed for the cancer to be defeated. I am SO incredibly grateful!!!!!!! I don't even know that there is a way to explain in words how truly blessed we are to have you interceding on our behalves. Thank you so much!
Sep 8, 2011
So Nervous
I didn't realize until today how nervous I was for the results of my PET/CT scan.
After my scan this morning, as Isaac and I were walking into the apartment, I told him that I think no matter what the results are come next Wednesday, I'll probably cry.
If it's good, they'll be tears of joy. Just thinking about it today made me get choked up. How awesome would it be if I could be done with chemo next week? It'd be more than awesome--it'd be miraculous! I think the excitement I would have would rival the day Isaac asked me to marry him.
If it's bad, I'll be... well, I'm not really sure what the appropriate word is. Sad isn't quite right. Maybe disappointed? I like to be optimistic and hopeful and I guess I've been kind of wishing this entire time that a miracle would happen and come this PET/CT scan, I'd be clean. Done. Finished.
I can't imagine if we hadn't found this until stage V. My experience so far hasn't even been all that awful, but I carry a TREMENDOUS amount of sympathy for people who have to undergo treatment for any amount of time. I can't even wrap my mind around what a person would feel if they had to endure this for eight months. Or a year.
I guess we'll just have to wait until Wednesday to see what happens.
After my scan this morning, as Isaac and I were walking into the apartment, I told him that I think no matter what the results are come next Wednesday, I'll probably cry.
If it's good, they'll be tears of joy. Just thinking about it today made me get choked up. How awesome would it be if I could be done with chemo next week? It'd be more than awesome--it'd be miraculous! I think the excitement I would have would rival the day Isaac asked me to marry him.
If it's bad, I'll be... well, I'm not really sure what the appropriate word is. Sad isn't quite right. Maybe disappointed? I like to be optimistic and hopeful and I guess I've been kind of wishing this entire time that a miracle would happen and come this PET/CT scan, I'd be clean. Done. Finished.
I can't imagine if we hadn't found this until stage V. My experience so far hasn't even been all that awful, but I carry a TREMENDOUS amount of sympathy for people who have to undergo treatment for any amount of time. I can't even wrap my mind around what a person would feel if they had to endure this for eight months. Or a year.
I guess we'll just have to wait until Wednesday to see what happens.
Sep 5, 2011
Yep. You're Jealous
Just thought I'd share some more of the cool aspects of chemo with ya'll.
The first is that I have a semi-permanent tan that won't cause me skin cancer. The obvious "downside," (if we must call it that) is that I had to get a blood cancer in order to be prescribed the chemotherapy that causes this side effect. Also, it's not exactly cheap. Retailing for around $3000 per session, it's just slightly more than your average tanning bed session, but at least you don't have to soak in the extreme heat to get the same results.
Another is that I have no need for 5-hour energy. I've seen a lot of commercials today (because I'm watching Spike TV's Star Wars marathon) and one that might have interested me pre-cancer would have been this particular energy drink. Now, thanks to chemotherapy, I have no need for it. When you're prescribed to get plenty of rest, it equates to a bounty of energy. However, now, I'm more interested in the commercials for Lunesta.
We also use less water now--and actually, to be truthful, I didn't even use shampoo at all this week.
One bummer is that my bras bother me now. It's kind of weird. Girls, you can probably relate to me on this one. Remember when you first started wearing them, how it just was awkward to have that pressure on your ribcage? I don't know, maybe it was just me. But I felt that. And now I feel it again. Except now it's to the point that it actually hurts. Hopefully not because I'm expanding. It could be though. It's uncomfortable enough that I've started unsnapping it in the car on the way home from wherever because I just couldn't stand it anymore. Like I said, it's odd, but it's real.
On the up-and-up, I get my scans this week! I meet with the ENT tomorrow for them to check out my ear tube, which is probably broken if that's even possible, because I have that kind of luck. Wednesday morning at 7:30 I go to get my Pulmonary Function Test done again to check and see how my lungs are holding up. Then I have to essentially starve myself (no carbs or sugar) from the time I go in for my Pulmonary Function Test until midnight, then literally from midnight until 7:00am Thursday morning in order for my PET/CT scan to read correctly. You'd think with all the snazzy technology we have they would figure out a way to do those things without tormenting people. Whatever. That's life right now.
The first is that I have a semi-permanent tan that won't cause me skin cancer. The obvious "downside," (if we must call it that) is that I had to get a blood cancer in order to be prescribed the chemotherapy that causes this side effect. Also, it's not exactly cheap. Retailing for around $3000 per session, it's just slightly more than your average tanning bed session, but at least you don't have to soak in the extreme heat to get the same results.
Another is that I have no need for 5-hour energy. I've seen a lot of commercials today (because I'm watching Spike TV's Star Wars marathon) and one that might have interested me pre-cancer would have been this particular energy drink. Now, thanks to chemotherapy, I have no need for it. When you're prescribed to get plenty of rest, it equates to a bounty of energy. However, now, I'm more interested in the commercials for Lunesta.
We also use less water now--and actually, to be truthful, I didn't even use shampoo at all this week.
One bummer is that my bras bother me now. It's kind of weird. Girls, you can probably relate to me on this one. Remember when you first started wearing them, how it just was awkward to have that pressure on your ribcage? I don't know, maybe it was just me. But I felt that. And now I feel it again. Except now it's to the point that it actually hurts. Hopefully not because I'm expanding. It could be though. It's uncomfortable enough that I've started unsnapping it in the car on the way home from wherever because I just couldn't stand it anymore. Like I said, it's odd, but it's real.
On the up-and-up, I get my scans this week! I meet with the ENT tomorrow for them to check out my ear tube, which is probably broken if that's even possible, because I have that kind of luck. Wednesday morning at 7:30 I go to get my Pulmonary Function Test done again to check and see how my lungs are holding up. Then I have to essentially starve myself (no carbs or sugar) from the time I go in for my Pulmonary Function Test until midnight, then literally from midnight until 7:00am Thursday morning in order for my PET/CT scan to read correctly. You'd think with all the snazzy technology we have they would figure out a way to do those things without tormenting people. Whatever. That's life right now.
Aug 13, 2011
Dear Uterus
It's been going pretty good!
We went to see the doc on Wednesday and unfortunately, it sounds like six months is the least amount of time I'll have to be in treatment. That was a bit disappointing. I was really really hoping to hear that four would be enough. Come September, we'll repeat my succession of tests to determine how much longer I'll have to endure for sure. It sounds like it will realistically be anywhere from six to eight months. Barf.
Isaac and I were talking yesterday and I mentioned that this whole thing is a lot more involved than I thought it was going to be. In my mind I'd made the process something like: "Four months of chemo was enough. The lymphoma is gone. Congrats! We'll see ya later!"
I guess that's not how it works.
I had to quit taking my birth control for the duration of the process too. It's been quite a change, letting my body adjust back to what it naturally wants to do for my period.
I'd started taking it pretty young... probably fourteen (correct me if I'm wrong, Mom) because I get such infernally bad cramps. Over the past nine years, I'd kind of forgotten what it was like to wake up in the middle of the night wishing I was dead because my abdomen was chewing on itself with razor sharp teeth. I got a lovely reminder today.
Mornings like today, I have to remind myself to chill. These disruptions in the pattern of my life will only register as a little bump in the road when the whole story is told. Nothing lasts forever.
At least, not here.
On a very random ending note: Happy Birthday to my little buddy Caleb Badger!!! You're one!! :) I know it's really not until Wednesday, but I'll be drugged and it's pretty likely I'll forget to say anything then.
Haha! I found this other uterus picture later. Keep those ovaries away from your children, ladies!!
We went to see the doc on Wednesday and unfortunately, it sounds like six months is the least amount of time I'll have to be in treatment. That was a bit disappointing. I was really really hoping to hear that four would be enough. Come September, we'll repeat my succession of tests to determine how much longer I'll have to endure for sure. It sounds like it will realistically be anywhere from six to eight months. Barf.
Isaac and I were talking yesterday and I mentioned that this whole thing is a lot more involved than I thought it was going to be. In my mind I'd made the process something like: "Four months of chemo was enough. The lymphoma is gone. Congrats! We'll see ya later!"
I guess that's not how it works.
I had to quit taking my birth control for the duration of the process too. It's been quite a change, letting my body adjust back to what it naturally wants to do for my period.
I'd started taking it pretty young... probably fourteen (correct me if I'm wrong, Mom) because I get such infernally bad cramps. Over the past nine years, I'd kind of forgotten what it was like to wake up in the middle of the night wishing I was dead because my abdomen was chewing on itself with razor sharp teeth. I got a lovely reminder today.
Dear, Uterus.
Thank you. Because of you, I was awakened this morning after only five hours of sleep. Because of you, I've already downed four ibuprofen and have a heating pad set on blast trying to boil you away. I'm sure you think it's funny. Well, just you wait. When I get older and you've already done the ONLY positive thing you can do (hopefully), I'm having you removed just because I can, you Judas piece of flesh. Take that.
Sincerely, Ashley
I don't even feel bad about saying that.
Another undesired side effect: my skin breaks out SUPER easily. I have to treat it like a spoiled Manhatten brat just to get it to behave. We're talking washing twice a day at specific times, a topical cream, two types of moisturizers, pumice peels, clay masks, extractions, and hydrating gels. Ridiculous.
Thankfully I learned these things in cosmetology school.
Mornings like today, I have to remind myself to chill. These disruptions in the pattern of my life will only register as a little bump in the road when the whole story is told. Nothing lasts forever.
At least, not here.
On a very random ending note: Happy Birthday to my little buddy Caleb Badger!!! You're one!! :) I know it's really not until Wednesday, but I'll be drugged and it's pretty likely I'll forget to say anything then.
Jul 6, 2011
Laughter is Good Medicine
Since my little incident in the shower, I've been able to hear very little out of my right ear. I've grown rather accustomed to it by now and Isaac and I have started calling it my "bad" ear. The other night he just died laughing because we went to bed at the same time (a rarity when you're married to a med school student) and I sleep on the right and he on the left. I was turned on my side facing him, which meant that the bad ear was facing up and my good ear was smothered in pillow-ness.
I was just starting at his oh-so-handsome face as he started to talk. A millisecond into whatever he was saying and I realized I couldn't hear it because my bad ear was the one up. Then, as yet more proof that I am really an old lady, I had to speak those dreaded words you hear from the 90-somethings in retirement homes.
"Heh? What are you saying? Hold on... my good ear is in the pillow."
He. Just. Died.
I hope by now you realize I'm learning to laugh at myself because the alternative lately is probably to cry or get angry, and so as he continued his guffawing, I joined him. Really, if you think about it, I am just a miserable mess. My body has been started more drama in the past month than I care to admit. Let's see what we've got a count on so far (you can click on some of the following for the full scoop if you're behind):
- Excisional Biopsy Surgery
- Diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma IIA
- A million blood tests, PET/CT scan, MUGA scan, and a pulmonary function test
- Fever/headaches/sore throat/wry neck
- Ear erruption that resulted in early anesthesia at my Mediport Surgery, a visit to Urgent Care, AND a visit to the ER
- Mediport Surgery
- Tightness in my neck that Isaac had to crack out (yes, CRACK)
- Nausea and a 3-day nap due to chemotherapy
- Crack-addict-like behaviors from either chemotherapy or compazine (to be determined after the next chemo cycle)
- A yeast infection from the million antibiotics I've been on
- Claw-hand and spastic tongue muscles from a compazine reaction--aka: another trip to the ER
This is why we laugh.
That, and the fact that my husband and mother figured out every loophole in my insurance policy. Not only did we figure out how to work the "guest" status, we also ended up getting a refund of what we had paid for the month of June because my mom figured out I shouldn't have had to switch plans. I bet the insurance people are pissed.
They told her to quit reading the policy.
All in all, when it rains, it pours... and so long as I don't have my hair and makeup done, I'm fine with splashing in the puddles.
Oh, and Em Fedderson, if you're reading this: I had to cut a little over a 1/2" off my hair yesterday to knock it back to where it was when I first cut it. Just sayin'.
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