HEALTH UPDATE 12A SECOND FULL DAY HOME (FROM THE HOSPITAL) AND BEYOND

Good morning dear friends!
And a good morning it is, yet again, simply because I awoke next to Will, having flown home, yesterday, from Houston!😊

What a whirlwind we’ve had, beginning last Wednesday, when I was released from the hospital near my home after a bedridden, six day stay.

As to my first full day home, that being last Thursday, it was zen-like, quiet, just as I like it until late afternoon, when Will drove me back to the clinic for blood tests followed by an echocardiogram to check on how my heart’s doing in relation to the tumor in my lung.

So glad to know that our plan to fly to Houston, last Sunday, took flight without a hitch:
Blood test and PET scan were scheduled, last Monday
Saw oncologist, Dr Ravi, on Tues.
Flew home, yesterday, Wed.

Rebalanced blood cells, donated by people, whom I’ll most likely never meet, continued to revitalize my physical energy necessary to re-instate my personal sense of independence, and once discharged from the hospital, my walker and I made our way through my home feeling deeply thankful that newly transfused, oxygen enriched blood freed my spirit to enjoy colorizing my cheeks as well  as my lips (hence my smile), followed by choosing a festive turban with which to warm my head—first time in weeks that my current energy level and I cared about applying make up as well as matching a turban to whatever garb I’d costumed myself within, that day, and though I decided to draw the line at gluing false lashes onto my bare eye lids, I have been drawing on both of my eyebrows, very carefully, in hopes of seeing them line up, together, each in its natural place, which can be quite a feat, because it’s not unusual for me to complete that task of artistry only to look at my reflection in the mirror, which, more often than not, is seen shaking my head from side to side while I whisper into my more critical ear—‘today’s eyebrows, as seen drawn on my face—are certainly not mine!’🙃

Thank goodness, I recognize the shape and placement of my eyebrows as ‘small stuff’.

Amazing what balanced blood cells (and make up) can do to stimulate my sense of humor to emerge while my spirit and I are colorizing a vanilla canvass, also known as my face.  (Last Thursday, when Will drove me back to the hospital near my home for additional blood tests, I ran into a nurse who had taken care of me for an entire day, earlier that same week when I, being bedridden, couldn’t walk more than a couple of steps before feeling need to sit back down on my hospital bed or sink right to the floor, and at first, when I smiled and greeted her, aloud, she didn’t recognize my newly revitalized, colorized self, at all.  I must have looked like a haggard piece of chalk when she’d come to my aid while my severely weakened body was experiencing a blood deprived state of being in which several transfusions had proved necessary to my becoming ambulatory.  Having identified myself as being one of her recent patients, I watched her eyes open wide in surprised recognition upon hearing me voice my name.

As to the softly rounded shape of my face, it is naturally rounded no more, at least for now  ... a fifteen pound drop in weight took care of that.  No photo is forthcoming of my face drained of all color, because certain memories do no one any good to review, and each time I have cause to reflect over the toll taken by a succession of intense chemo treatments upon my diminished well-being, an album of memories exposing a wide variety of physical miseries, which I’d rather not imprint too deeply into my mind’s eye, emerges from subconscious storage as if the foggy presence of Dr. Gloom ‘n Doom is in a state of re-emergence until positive focus, arising like The Phoenix, puts the ‘kab-ash’ upon memories which prove to be so darkly threatening to my well being as to have stimulated my intuitive powers to call forth my defense system’s natural strong hold over repression, for sound reason ... you see, a doctor, whom I’ve nicknamed Gloom ‘n Doom, actually paid several uninvited visits to my hospital room, leaving me to quietly wonder if hospice was about to knock on my spirit’s back door, next.  More about that, later.

Please check back to see current photo, which for unknown reason will not print, as of yet

Over these past weeks, when my face had been ghostly white, even paste-y, my lashless eyes were glazed over, based in the fact that my spirit, though remaining strong deep within my core, had dimmed on the surface as though to match the deeply troubled, diminished state of my circulatory system until memory served to recall the fact that oxygenated air colors blood crimson.  You see, had my high school class of zoology not come to mind, I might have pictured the unbalanced state of my current blood stream pulsing through my veins as being light pink, and how silly is that!

Good thing I remind myself as to how readily our run-away imaginations throw our intelligence off course when the going gets so rough as to darken our impression of whatever deeper truth is actually baring itself right before our disbelieving eyes.

Based in having had four blood transfusions while hospitalized near my home, last week, my spirit, not nearly as gaunt as my face, heartened to be released from my bedridden state with energy to walk toward getting done whatever needed doing to ready me to fly to Houston, naturally, on my own with walker in hand in case I moved too QUICKLY and got too short of breath.😊

Last Friday, I sat on a chair in my closet, choosing what to pack with Edie’s help, as standing in place still dizzies me—Edie being my right hand woman over these past forty years, god love her.  Then, later that same morning, my trainer, Mark, came to work with me, very gingerly, and at half past noon, David picked up Ravi from preschool, and we three played on or near my bed till Steven arrived after work for dinner, so recent memory offers many reasons to exercise my ready smile.😊

On the other hand, my exhaustion upon awakening, that Saturday, saw the over achiever, who dwells within my brain, retreating after having consumed so much energy on Friday as to stimulate my smarts to recreate a zen-like environment in hopes of recharging energy necessary to fly to Houston that Sunday.

Last Saturday, while I rested within my reconstructed zen environment, David flew home to the coast, and as his negotiation concerning his pilot based loosely upon my Dad’s gay bar, circa 1961, continues to move forward with Warner Bros., all is well, there.  As for Will, he could not contain his happy relief once I was discharged and home feeling so mobile as to have forgotten my walker ‘here’ while I’d make my way ‘there’ and visa-a-versa.  ‘Annie, where’d you leave your walker?’  ‘I haven’t got a clue.’🙃

Both Barry and Steven are stoked about their kids learning to ski, recently.  When Barry bargained with Ray to ride the chairlift for the first time, Ray bargained back for two things.  Neither being a toy.  A pair of ski gloves for himself and a gift for Ravi—a small pair of soft furry bears hugging each other.  Needless to say, Barry was thrilled with Ray’s choices.  As well as with the fact that Ray rode the lift and skied down the mountain six times, because once he was successful he couldn’t get enough, so again, success breeds success.  Tony (9) chose not to take ski lessons until he learned that several of his school buddies were enjoying the mountain (within driving distance of their homes) with their families, and now he’s entertaining second thoughts about next time.

All in all, it’s been a ‘no worse day’ ever since I was discharged.😊

As to Houston, we just flew home, yesterday, so imagine my tired brain stuffing that portion of this most current update into my memory for a short while while I rest my think tank after stuffing this missile with lots of smiles wrapped in warm hugs filled with love,
Annie 💖🌈🌻🙋🏻‍♀️😘

PS
Last Thursday, when Will and I returned to the hospital near my home for a blood test and echocardiogram of my heart, I asked the technician how she found my heart to be.  Her reply.  I’m not at liberty to tell you.  Only your doctor can.  I smiled and countered with, can you tell me if my scan was yours would you be happy?  She smiled back compassionately and replied—I’d be happy.  Hooray!😃❤️🙋🏻‍♀️

It truly felt amazing to be discharged with energy to walk with walker and get done whatever needed doing, naturally, on my own for the first time in weeks.  Unfortunately, that spurt of feeling re-vitalized with donated blood cells flowing through my veins did not last for long, which is why Will was seen pushing me in a wheelchair, which proved necessary, throughout our three day stay in Houston ... even so, each night, I felt completely content while falling asleep embraced tenderly by Will, who is thrilled to have me by his side, and each morning, our awakening, together sees twin smiles emerge upon our grateful faces.  Grateful to know that we chose well, close to 54 years ago, when we’d stood, side by side, ‘neath the hupah, and vowed to love and respect each other ‘to have and to hold until ... as to the rest of that traditional wedding vow, I’ll not take my processor ‘there’, right now, for obvious reasons, most especially because the whole of my focus is ‘soully’ directed toward enjoying every moment of my life as joyfully as possible, which is why, deep within my core, my spirit feels self-inspired to sing—to life, to life, l’chaim!

HEALTH UPDATE 11B

Most of today’s train of thought, which was actually penned while hospitalized on Tuesday, was found, today, in drafts—chemo brain still on the loose!

Tuesday
Having recouped a good deal of physical energy with the help of transfusions makes me so happy as to feel giddy to the point of skirting silly, and I heard myself making such ridiculous remarks that all of the nurses and aides and even the doctors were leaving my room laughing rather than rolling their eyes, which is a good thing.  I decided to clip several of Ravi’s small flowers into the few wisps of hair that’ve grown toward 1/4th of an inch in length.  (It never occurred to me that rebalanced blood cells stimulate my corny sense of humor to kick in.  From now on when anyone’s grumpy, I’ll suggest ordering a blood transfusion from Amazon Prime, same day delivery)😁

Though I’d hoped to go home, yesterday and then today, platelets and hemoglobin on their way down, again, suggest my needing  to be transfused ... on the up side, Neutrophils rose to 1350 ... oncologist wants them at 1500 to protect me from run-away infection—sooo—though my blood production is still less than stable, let’s hope my numbers reach a level across the board that encourages my oncologist to say yea to my being released, tomorrow.

Other than blood count instability, I’ve experienced 'no worse' days, concerning physical miseries, for about three days, now😊

Along with each daily bone marrow shot, I develop a painful achiness, all over,  which is classic, lasts several hours and lessens with pain meds.  This throbbing achiness indicates that the bone marrow is actively being stimulated to produce new blood cells, and having placed that slice of info into my bonnet rebalances my natural reaction to pain in that I’m hurting for good reason.

Sunday, we hope I’ll be ready to fly to Houston to consult with the oncologist who works in tandem with my heart and thoracic surgeons, who, hopefully, will perform my surgeries in late spring.  I’m hopeful that I can be home for a few days before packing to fly to Houston. If there’s one thing that does not need to be transfused, as of yet, it’s an abundance of hope ...

I’ve come to believe that living with cancer amid these intense chemo treatments, 24/7, would be unbearable if my sense of humor did not choose to accompany me and kick in every place I go, most especially the hospital.  Today, the nurses laughed aloud while I circled the corridor garbed in an ivory silk full length robe with three of Ravi’s small, colorful silk flowers clipped to my spikey few wisps of hair, and ruby sequined slippers covering my feet while I breathed in time to The Eye of the Tiger, which, playing quietly on David’s phone, charged me up to stretch a bit further.  Good thing I can ‘go with’ looking ridiculous, because each time someone laughed, so did I—naturally—and since David laughed every time he looked at me, I laughed throughout a day that could have been a downer, because I’ve been light-headed and short of breath, again, without knowing why.

Sooo—Ravi (5) learned to ski over Valentine’s weekend, and Ray’s (8) first day of skiing (ever), during his school’s ski week on the coast, met with success, as well.  I don’t know who’s more thrilled—Ravi (here) and Ray (there) or Steven (who came to see me upon driving home from the mountain) and Barry (on the coast with his fam), both of whom, now, have Jr. playmates to ski with in snow country.

My hemoglobin went down significantly, again, today (Tues.), which is why I’m more readily light headed and short of breath ... so, I’ll not be surprised if a fourth blood transfusion is deemed necessary before I’m hopefully released for home, tomorrow ...
 ... 👩🏻

Today (Friday) I hope you awoke to a very good morning!
Because a very good morning it is!😊
I was discharged and arrived home on Wed. after blood transfusion #4, feeling gladdened to know that our plan to fly to Houston Sunday remains intact.

Fly on Sunday
Blood test and PET scan on Monday
See Dr Ravi Tues.
Fly home Wed.

 It feels amazing to be home with energy, not to spare by any means but enough to walk and get done whatever needs doing, naturally, on my own with walker in tow in case I stand up and move too QUICKLYso as to become so light-headed and short of breath as to need to lie down on the spot.😊

Yesterday, I sat on a chair in my closet, choosing what to pack with Edie’s (my right-hand gal) help.   This morning, Mark (trainer) comes, and this afternoon, David picks up Ravi (5) from pre-school, and we’ll play on or near my bed till Angie stops by for a short spell before Steven comes for dinner, tonight, so today offers many reasons to exercise my smile.😊

Today, David flies back to the coast, and my heart is happy to relay that his negotiation with Warner Bros. concerning drawing up a contract related to the dramatic series he wrote, based upon my dad’s gay bar, circa 1960, continues to move forward.

Both Barry and Steven are stoked about their kids skiing.  When Barry bargained with eight year old Ray in hopes of enticing him to ride the chairlift, Ray bargained back for two things.  Neither being a toy.  A pair of ski gloves for himself and a gift for Ravi.  Needless to say, Barry’s heart swelled with pride at both choices, and the fact that Ray rode the lift and skied down the mountain six times, because once success was his, he couldn’t get enough, illustrates, once again, that success breeds success.  Tony (9) chose not to learn to ski but upon learning that several of his school buddies were enjoying the mountain with their families, is now entertaining second thoughts concerning ski lessons, next time.

As to Will, he can’t contain his happy relief that I’m home, feeling as chipper and mobile as proves true, as long as I don’t overdo (which is a tendency of mine being that reflection suggests my embracing the fact that historically, I’ve been a self-acknowledged over-achiever.).  All in all, it’s been a ‘no worse day’ ever since I arrived home.😊

So, imagine me stuffing this missile with lots of love wrapped in warm hugs, ever grateful for your enriching gifts of loving support and lasting friendship,
Annie 💖🌈🌻🙋🏻‍♀️

HEALTH UPDATE #11A (expanded upon, today, but still in need of repair ... )

Cautionary note—While editing the post below, strange goings-on began to occur concerning changes in margins, font choices and color, which I can’t understand or repair, so rather than tearing out what little is left of my wispy, barely there, exceptionally short spikes of dark, scattered hairs, I’ve chosen to pause any thought that sees me in charge of today’s editing process so as to end my struggle in hopes of relaxing my mind by acknowledging the fact that the deeply confounding aspect of today’s editing process going rogue is such small stuff when considering the bigger picture of my life that I’ve decided to place my frustration in Mother Hubbard’s empty cupboard, freeing me to go about the rest of my day with a positively focused, heartfelt attitude, highlighting what really matters over what does not so that I can close my eyes and imagine my mind, spirit and heart floating upon a magic carpet (woven by my active imagination), ascending ever so gently through an azure blue sky coasting higher and higher above worrisome thoughts, purposely left below, for right now, and as you and I pass by a fluffy white cloud, here and there (each shaping into puppies at play), you’ll observe my soulful sense of wholeness relaxing to the point of concentrating my self confidence solely upon quietly recreating an emotional atmosphere so self soothing as to enhance a zen-like contentment of my very own making, which I’ll happily share with any kind-hearted imaginative soul who chooses to ride sidekick with me for a spell.  And now, having readied you for imperfections beyond my current control (as is true of my body while cancer remains active), which have somehow manifested themselves directly below today’s intro, here we go:

Good Morning, 

Sooo—I’ve been hospitalized nearby my southwestern desert home since a week ago, tonight, because I found myself unable to walk more than three steps on my own without collapsing to the floor feeling so suddenly short of breath as if about to black  out. You see, the long-acting shot, which I’d received the day after my last chemo infusion, had failed to stimulate my bone marrow to produce new blood cells, and upon being admitted to the hospital by way of the ER, blood tests showed that following my last infusion of chemo, my body’s blood supply has been experiencing anemia to a severe degree. 

After experiencing a kaleidoscoptic psychedelic moment at home followed by extreme sensations of nausea, we raced to the ER where I was admitted to the hospitalat about 3am, a week ago, I received a unit of red blood cells (hemoglobin) followed by receiving  another bone marrow-stimulating injection that differs from the first in that this one is administered daily.  Then on Valentine’s Day, my platelets plummeted, so in addition to the new shot, which I now welcome, every day, I was transfused with a unit of platelets, as well. 

As this physical instability is due to the depression of my bone marrow (yet another side effect of chemo’s present protocol), my production of new blood cells remained  

shut down more rigorously than had originally been expected, so I’ll not be surprised if a third protocol may be in the planning, because this current dysfunctional state of my blood cell production must readjust from being so severely depressed as to physically de-energize my body close to completely.  Once normal production rates are naturally on the rise, I’ll be able to walk on my own and take good care of myself at home.

This weakening has naught to do with personal strengths and everything to do with need to elevate each component of my blood from crashing to reproducing at levels, which are up to snuff; suggesting that my medical team is working to encourage my circulatory system to re-regulate blood cell production by way of the daily shot so that the level of each component of each blood cell will rise, naturally, on its own as had been true before infusions of chemo ran interference with my body’s ability to create change for the better by itself. 

Although my appetite also remains depressed, I’m choosing to ingest, digest and absorb protein, veggies, fruit and whole grains at each meal as well as ordering protein shakes, every day.  Will and David (Steven is skiing) have been motivating my spirit to advance from taking three steps forward toward the corridor (aided by my walker while a wheel chair follows me in case I need to sit down to catch my breath so as not to automatically black out).  And while we three circled the corridor outside of my room, Rocky’s theme song, played on David’s phone, encourages me to take yet another step forward, knowing that blood transfusions are actively reviving my body’s ability to rebuild its former energy levels  

The fact that I’d recouped the energy, via transfusions, to cover that distance cane as quite a surprise.  However, my neutrophils have not yet reached 1500, so I have a feeling that I’ll be here overnight, again. suggesting that daily shots along with three blood transfusions have re-energized each component of every blood cell, which, existing in balance with all of the others, continues to offer an in-going challenge in the same way that just, as with every aspect of life, maintaining balance is necessary for all who live an independent life.

As to the health of my spirit, its well-being continues to be re-energized, daily, by way of personal will, positive attitude and love flowing freely in abundance, back and forth through the air, and thus is my spiritual good health robust so as to be unaffected by the severity of my body’s anemic condition.

As the week progressed, a transfusion of platelets plus a second unit of hemoglobin proved necessary, and one of my personal goals was to advance beyond step ‘number one’ and step ‘number two’ until I felt able to utilize my walker to convey my body’s need to relieve itself of waste safely to and from my bathroom.  In short, it’s become transparently apparent that well-balanced cells of oxygenated blood are necessary if we are to transport our bodies to where the mind wants to go, and anything that interferes with the natural state of healthy blood flow will hinder us from achieving the most simple of short range goals no matter how much we believe in strength of mind and spirit, which is why we hear ‘listen to your body’, most expressly after infusions of chemo are disrupting natural functions, all of which connect to the on-going or disruptive state of your well being and mine.

My mind is occupied with reading, resting, penning these pep talks to myself (which I find of personaI value, because calming statements motivate me to heighten my level of patience).  And when my energy level is up, I’m eager to visit with family and friends.  So now, having expressed the current condition of my body and spirit, my mind has tired, and since my brain is part of my body, and as I’ve gained insight into listening to my body, especially when it asks me to pause for a rest, resting my whole self is what I plan to do as soon as I wish you and your loved ones a happy good humored, belated Valentine’s Day.  And along with hopes that all is well at your end,  let’s also hope that my bloodwork shows rebalanced improvement, very soon, so that my body can get itself dressed in readiness to transport my mind, spirit and soul from my hospital room toward our car in which Will will be seen feeling as eager as I am to convey us both home.
Annie💝🌈🌻🙋🏻‍♀️;

Sent from my iPad

HEALTH UPDATE #11A (posted in a state of incompletion)

Good Morning,
(First of all:  Why the font is blue, my brain has no clue.)
Sooo, I’ve been hospitalized near my home since a week ago, tonight, unable to walk more than three steps with my walker without feeling need to collapse to the ground so as not to black out on the spot.  And that being the case, with the help of my walker to lean on, I’d lower myself to the floor and lie there, sometimes for as long as half an hour until my breathing calmed enough to stand up, and after three steps, down I’d go, again.  As it took three hours for my body to convey me from Will’s car in our garage (following a blood test at The clinic) into our bedroom, we knew all was not well.  The shot I’d received the day after my last chemo infusion had failed to stimulate my bone marrow to produce new blood cells, so my body has been experiencing anemia to a severe degree.

After being admitted at about 3am, a week ago, I received a unit of red blood cells (hemoglobin) followed by another bone marrow stimulating injection that differs from the first, and then, on Valentine’s Day, my platelets plummeted, so in addition to the shot, which I now receive, daily, I was transfused with a unit of platelets, as well.

As this is all due to the depression of my bone marrow (yet another side effect of chemo’s present protocol), my blood counts remained shut down much more rigorously than had been expected, so I’m betting that a third protocol may be in the planning, because the dysfunctional state of my blood cell production must readjust from being so severely depressed as to have physically de-energized my body close to completely.  Once normal production rates rise, I’ll walk on my own and be able to take good care of myself at home.

This weakening has naught to do with personal strengths and everything to do with my body’s need to get my crashing numbers up to snuff; which is why my medical team is working to re-regulate my blood cell production so that the level of each component of each cell will rise, naturally on its own, as had been true before invasive infusions of chemo ran interference with my body’s ability to create change for the better by itself.

Although my appetite also remains depressed, I’m choosing to ingest, digest and absorb protein, veggies, fruit and whole grains at each meal as well as ordering protein shakes, every day. As my numbers rise, Will and David have been motivating my spirit to literally advance from taking three steps forward (aided by my walker while a wheel chair followed me, in which I’d needed to sit down to catch my breath so as not to suddenly sink to the floor) to circling the corridor outside of my room, which was quite a leap, suggesting the fact that having re-energized my body with blood cells in which every component exists in balance with all of the others is necessary to enjoying an independent life.  With each infusion of chemo, my current level of self awareness heightens, most especially when the on-going nature of regaining and maintaining my body’s good health is the subject at hand.

As to the health of my spirit, its well-being continues to be re-energized by personal will, positive attitude and love flowing freely in abundance, back and forth through the air, and thus is my spiritual good health so robust as to be unaffected by the severity of my body’s anemic condition.

As the week progressed, a transfusion of platelets plus two units of hemoglobin proved necessary, and one of my personal goals was to advance over step one and step two until I felt able to utilize my walker to convey me safely to and from the bathroom.  It’s become transparently apparent that well-balanced cells of oxygenated blood are necessary if we are to transport our bodies to where the mind wants to go, and anything that interferes with the natural state of healthy blood flow will hinder us from achieving the most simple short range goal no matter how much we believe in strength of mind and spirit, which is why we hear listen to our bodies, most expressly after infusions of chemo are disrupting natural functions, all of which connect to the on-going or disruptive state of our well being.

My mind is occupied with reading, resting and penning these pep talks to myself as I value calming statements that motivate me to heighten my level of patience.  And having expressed the physical condition, my body and spirit, my mind has grown tired and as my brain is part of my body, and as I’ve gained insight into listening to my body when it asks me to pause for a rest, resting my whole self is what I plan to do as soon as I wish you and your loved ones a happy good humored, relaxing, belated Valentine’s Day.  And now, with hopes that all is well at your end,  let’s hope my bloodwork shows improvement, very soon.
Annie💝🌈🌻🙋🏻‍♀️;

THIS PRELUDE TO MY NEXT HEALTH UPDATE WAS RETRIEVED FROM DRAFTS

This post was penned more than a week ago and promptly forgotten in drafts, so let’s take that fact into account as you read and I review:

I feel better than has been true these last few days.  Less physical miseries, though still so anemic with this third round of chemo that I can walk just a few steps with the help of a walker before I need to sit down to catch my breath and then walk a few steps, again.  My trainer comes over to help me stay limber.

David flew in, again, and the first thing that Ravi’s doting uncle did was to pick her up from preschool, so whenever I’m not sleeping, they play on my bed while I watch, and their playtimes are so imaginative as to stimulate an infectious sense of family fun which naturally enhances my spirit’s smile.

Will and I fly to Houston on Feb. 23th to see the oncologist, who will determine the tumor’s readiness to undergo dual surgeries later in the Spring.  To my understanding, each infusion of Chemo serves to de-activate the tumor from further compromising my heart.  And based upon timing concerning our traveling to MD Anderson Hospital, I won’t have another round of chemo till we return—hooray!

So presently, I remain hopeful that white and red blood cell production will resuscitate, causing anemia to lessen, so I can breathe and walk and take care of myself, naturally, until such time as it’s necessary for me to fly home from Houston and recoup over several days before re-entering the ring, feeling re-energized with the on-going support of my family and friends so as to find myself readied to face each next bout of chemo with the stamina and courage that sets my focus toward winning the good fight, once and for all. 🙋🏻‍♀️🌈🌻

CANCER? OY VEY! A FAMILY STORYBOOK

I’m going to write a storybook for families about living peaceably with cancer
It’ll go something like this:

See Annie and Will:  two kindhearted souls, spirits pulsing with positivity

See Annie and Will awakening from sweet dreams

See Annie visiting her doctor on the day of her annual physical

See Annie (that would be me) having my yearly chest x-ray

See me receiving a call saying—You have pneumonia

See me replying—what?  I have no cough or fever

See me taking antibiotics and repeating the x-ray, two weeks later

See my internist seemingly stymied since the x-ray looks no better

See me taking medication for Valley Fever

See my internist hovering close by as x-ray number three relates no change

See my sons saying—Mom, please see a pulmonologist—ASAP

See our eyes growing wide to hear this specialist say Annie needs a CT

See our shock when a PET scan, shows a large tumor, revealing a sarcoma

See our intelligence digesting that sarcomas are exceptionally rare

See us appreciating our medical brain trust offering the best of care

See our team of docs suggesting that sarcomas invade the lung almost never

See our lives filling with specialists, tests, labs, chemo, hospitalizations, nurses,

See our minds growing fearful while our hearts fill with love-infused courage

See my long dark hair falling out in clumps until my stylist buzzes the rest away

See my collection of knit caps and colorful scarves growing, day by day

See my eyebrows waving bye-bye, as individual strands land on my perfume tray

See my lashes flying free at the merest of breezes

See me stepping back if anyone coughs or sneezes

See pounds slipping away while I’m eating whatever seems pleasing

See me losing my appetite along with weight dropping off me

See hair and weight loss being the least of side effects stalking me

See me tending to technicolored bouquets while one hand holds onto my walker

See our trio of sons rallying round as precious grandkids draw flowers in vases

See our door bell ringing with delicious, nutritious meals prepared by smiling faces

See hope floating amid light-as-air matzoh balls simmering in savory chicken broth

See my positively focused attitude needing to shed a river of tears, now and again

See my spirit swimming through rapids, not losing sight of hope ‘round the bend

See a life raft of love created by beloved family and treasured friends

See our life raft fashioned of texts, emails, cards, gifts, calls and visits pouring in

See my spirit buoyed upon that life raft whenever chemo thwacks my spunky grin

See my husband nursing me with all the love his heart can hold

See Will carrying Ensure to my bedside followed by warming my towels

See our positive choices remain focused upon winning the good fight

See Will cradling me in his sheltering arms, night after night

See me fall asleep feeling blessed while longing for chemo and surgery to be passé

See me dreaming cheerfully of my lust for life bursting free at the rainbow’s end

See me awakening singing, Tomorrow, tomorrow—it’s only A DAAAY AWAAAY!

RED DEVIL

I’m scheduled for labs, one day early—today, in fact
Why?  My body has no strength to stand for even a minute
Do you know that one chemo is so powerful as
To be dreaded by patients, one and all?
As to the name of this dreaded chemotherapy, it’s Adriamiacin
This chemo is so highly toxic as to have acquired a nickname
The nickname of Adriamiacin is Red Devil
What?  I exclaimed, last week, when that nickname
Hit my ears with a thwack while the nurse was busily
Attaching a tube (to a red bag filled with Adriamiacin) into
My port, and so with tongue in cheek, I piped up—
Just a second, please—We’re not infusing anything called
Red Devil into me—And then I went on—
If Adriamiacin’s toxicity proves essential to
My recovery and if we’re not pumping
Red Devils into my body by way of my port then
It stands to reason that a new nickname is necessary with
Immediacy, and in less time then it takes to wink an eye
Will piped up with—How bout Cherries Jubilee!
YES!  Responded my spirit, eyes flashing with humor
Cherries Jubilee fits the bill to a tee!
And now, each time that red bag is hung onto
The pole that feeds tubes filled with
Life saving medications straight into my port
I smile at the power of words, which
Relaxed my mind while my body feasted upon Cherries Jubilee!
Thank goodness the power of positive focus is contagious
Why?  Because my chemo nurses are enjoying this
Switch in nicknames as much as is true of
Will and me, and also, thank goodness for the fact that
Will and I have long been in the habit of
Brainstorming toward palatable solutions on the spot so as to
Authorize such a delectable change in nickname, which
Offered me peace of mind though the only change that
Truly took place was our positive choice of words ...

IF A GOOD DAY IS REFERENCED AS ‘A NO WORSE DAY’ THEN ...

Remember the book
Alexander’s very bad terrible day?  Well, unfortunately, that was yesterday for me.  So if a good day is expressed as a ‘no worse day’ then a very bad terrible day will present itself as an Alec day (so as not to associate Terrible with Alex, as I have two young Alex’s in my life).

David’s loving presence freed me to loosen up a few tears, last night, and Steven and Ravi will be here, today, and though I felt light headed when I left my bed, this morning, I’m hoping for a no worse day, ahead.

More on the upside concerning yesterday—quite a few loved ones are with me throughout each day by way of text, email, cards, bouquets of flowers, fruits and sweets (since they honor my choice not to talk about cancer on the phone day in and day out).  One dear friend stopped by with chicken soup.  Another dropped off her homemade meatloaf.  And Angie hovers close by, as always, often with caramel apples and peanuts.  So many ways are love and friendship sincerely conveyed.

Though, at times I can’t help but feel alone with this battle for life that’s ravaging my body, 24/7, I balance that feeling by acknowledging my good fortune to have so many loving family and friends at my side, who, like a sturdy life raft, make up the proactive support system that keeps my spirit afloat when the rapids are too rough to manage on my own.

Being that my emotional reactions, though consciously controlled, have always been an open book, I can’t imagine the darkness that closes in on those who feel unable to expose their vulnerabilities, naturally, most especially to loved ones who truly want to lend a hand to help to ease the fear of pain that feels insurmountable but surely must be borne at one time or another within the scope of every person’s life ...
 ❤️🌈🌻 Annie

REALITY IS POKING AT ME

This morning, I awoke, accepting the fact that I feel sluggish, through and through—suggesting that though weekend plans are sweet, positive focus needs a break, now and then, and it’s not necessarily my choice as to when reality will choose to peek out from deep within my aching body.  Thank goodness, nothing is expected of me during the day.  No labs, appointments or tests.  Just rest. And by the time David’s plane lands, late this afternoon, who knows what may have offered my spirit a natural lift—perhaps all I need do is to quietly enjoy the sense of knowing that my son is eager to come home ...❤️🌻 Annie

MORE ABOUT THE HEALING PRESENCE OF LOVE

Good to say that, so far, my body is tolerating this round of chemo better than the last.  And with lots to enjoy as this weekend unfolds, my spirit awoke, this morning, smiling with thoughts of good fortune floating around in my head.

As I keep good people within my sights, Steven’s high school sweetheart, who flew into town from Denver with her sister to attend her daughter’s soccer tournament, plans to enjoy dinner with us, tonight.  She and I have always been glad that both of our hearts have chosen to keep in touch throughout the years.

Tomorrow, David flies in, and he and we have dinner plans with college/medical school friends, who winter here from Seattle.  Sunday’s play date is planned with Steven and Ravi, and the hi jinx, which are sure to abound whenever our family gathers together, inspires my spirit to laugh in anticipation of happy memory-making, directly ahead.

Amazing how easily the presence of loving family and treasured friends places the harsh reality of cancer on a back burner simply by showing up, which turns up the dial that sees my heartfelt good humor simmering within the gentle warmth of so much love bubbling forth ... 🥰

Lucky me

DANCING OVER THE RAINBOW

Presently, Will and I are in the cubicle assigned to me within this prestigious Clinic’s infusion center, awaiting chemo to drip through my port into my body after a medication that protects my heart has been absorbed.  Though the infusion of chemo, itself, will be easy, it’s the absorption that makes me queasy, and if history repeats itself then fatigue will be my most debilitating side effect following today’s protocol until week 2 when physical misery 🤨 is expected to challenge my natural level of patience to heighten while I make my way through each next day with as much grace as is humanly possible when my red and white blood cells and platelets plummet in number, offering me sound reason to hibernate from social interaction in hopes of avoiding viral and bacterial infections (most especially during flu season) which would prove too combative for my depressed immune system to calm into a state of submission.  And in order to buoy my spirit until days of chemo induced misery during round three fade into the past, I’ll remind myself of need to muscle up my mindful connection to courage in order to undergo the highly complex, dual cardiac/thoracic surgical procedure in Houston, which awaits my body’s stabilized readiness to take my most courageous leap of faith to date by focusing my sights upon landing at the end of the rainbow where recovery of my natural lust for life will enrich my soul with joy far more than could any pot of gold ... 💃🏻 cha cha cha!

THE SPIRIT OF SUPER BOWL SUNDAY PLACES THOUGHTS OF IMPEACHMENT AND CHEMO ON PAUSE

Yesterday was spent laughing with Ravi, which encouraged my enjoyment of another no worse day as I’m half way through ‘week three’ of my new chemo protocol.  

After Steven asked questions, concerning my upcoming surgeries, he could not find words to express the depths of his emotion, so he simply took hold of and held onto my hand, freeing our love for each other to fill the silence as though clarity was speaking aloud.  Barry and David call, every night.  Marie texts funny quips to which my corny sense of humor responds.  Daily texts, sent by my sister and a beloved high school friend, as well as texts, emails, cards and phone calls from all over the country buoy my spirit while Angie’s energy bounds through my front door, almost every day, and in addition to meals ringing our doorbell, the depths of Will’s protective devotion continues to take my breath away.

As to being on the receiving end of love flowing freely, I was shocked upon receiving a dozen roses from my eye doctor, last week, amid streams of calls, cards, gifts, emails and texts flowing toward me from sea to shining sea (whoops—sorry if I’m being redundant), my heartfelt reactions can’t help but smile while tears fill my eyes; however, rather than a woman divided, my emotions blend, inspiring my spirit to accept my fate, whatever it may be, with a greater sense of grace than frustration.

The depth of my sister’s love for me and mine for her maintains its heartfelt connection several times daily, and these past several days have offered me a ‘no worse week’.  So when considering half full cups, mine runneth over, because, with one fast glance at today’s post, we clearly see why, from my point of view, I am an exceedingly fortunate person

My next infusion of chemo is this coming Wed, so if history repeats itself then I can expect to experience several days of exceptional fatigue followed by my being caught up within a dark spell of physical misery during week two, when I’ll feel like Rocky in the ring, fighting the good fight against great odds.  And now on to more good news ...

David/Mickey plans to fly in, this Saturday, when his sense of humor will resume my ‘training’ concerning walking with head held high and keeping my dukes up, and in addition to enjoying his company, I love the fact that David picks up Ravi from school, because watching their imaginative antics is the best of all heartwarming medicines when physical misery attempts to knock my spirit out cold.  And though physical misery has come close to knocking me out, so far, my spirit’s not gone down for the count.

For clarity sake, here is the three week pattern, which has been shaping up, concerning my highly personal (natural) reactions to chemo:  First week after infusion of chemo, I feel so seriously energy deprived as to walk with a walker.  (Day after chemo infusion, I’m injected with a substance that stimulates bone marrow to produce white blood cells during week three).  Second week, blood tests show white blood cells and platelets plummeting while physical misery rises exponentially. Third week, as blood cells start to rise, my energy level remains light headed though on the upside, I, feeling my protective need to hibernate lessening, am more inclined to embrace my natural social life until the week passes, and I find myself receiving the next ticket to ride the chemo roller coaster, all over again—no chance to say ‘no more chemo’  to my team of medical specialists when we travel to Houston at the end of this month where my oncologist at MD Anderson  will study my most recent cardiac 3D MRI after which he’ll say,yea, time to schedule surgery—or nay, a fourth round of chemo is necessary ...

As being smack dab in the middle of week three sees me truly appreciating every day that misery and hibernation stay away from my sunny smile, my family and friends join me in sighing with relief as, together, we take each next step forward into the great unknown ...

Last night, Will and I ventured out to dinner (after two weeks of hibernation) at one of our favorite comfort havens with Angie, Mark and and another dear couple, and it felt really good to brighten my lips and cheeks while wrapping my head in a colorful turban (of which I now own several ala Amazon though I've sent back more than I’ve kept), and while peals of laughter rang aloud round our table in an old world Italian eatery, I imagined, once again, how good it must have felt to have spent time at TV’s factionalized Cheers, where, having been so warmly welcomed along with my friends, I was able to set thoughts of serious illness aside until the evening’s end when my friends’ heartfelt hugs circled round to include the establishment’s owner, manager and long time wait staff until each one turned toward me only to find that though my smile was sincere, my new found, natural inclination to maintain my physical distance in attempt to insure my physical safety, gently backed away from every open armed hug aimed directly at me.

Today, we said nay to a huge annual Super Bowl party (at the home of the first couple whom we ever met in Phoenix) in favor of watching the game at our house with Angie and Mark, who are bringing wine, cheese, crackers to munch on.  We plan to enjoy dinner on Monday with our super bowl hosts.  So, though I’m maintaining quiet days, we’re fitting in as many social evenings as my present level of energy allows before my next chemo infusion on Wed. drains my body of energy, yet again.

As for now, I, feeling showered with love, know myself blessed, plain and simple ...

And as always, I’m sending you tons of love!

Annie

A MUSTARD SEED ... AND MORE

As many of my friends can testify, chemo brain is a real thing, so here are insights that I’d forgotten to share, which came to mind just before I fell asleep, last night, concerning one of two book clubs, both of which I enjoy membership.  The women who comprise the book club, referenced in today’s post, number ten, and all of them are neighborhood friends.  Every December, it’s been my pleasure to choose the restaurant, where my imagination decorates a festive table for our holiday party to which we bring unwrapped gifts (which Ravi and I and anyone who wants to join us deliver to our local fire station where Toys For Tots are collected, gift wrapped and eventually dispersed.  And along with these gifts for children, Ravi and I surprise the firemen with a chocolate cake, decorated with yellow roses as well as these words:  THANK YOU FOR KEEPING US SAFE THROUGHOUT THE YEAR.  This year, in hopes that I could attend, my friends postponed our luncheon to January; however, being in hibernation until my white blood cell count rises, I could not attend, and since the festive occasion took place earlier, this week, here are the sentiments that I emailed to each of my nine neighbors, all dear friends, after they chose to honor my spirit’s presence at the table, last Wednesday: 

My dear friends, First of all—whether the mustard seed parable is taken from my ancestors’ bible, The Old Testament, or quoted from The New Testament, the insight below rings so true that I want to thank you, Martha, for gifting me with a precious mustard seed, which I plan to keep close to my heart so as to honor its meaning with the utmost of care—

For truly, I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you."

Just as the tiny mustard seed grows into a strong healthy tree, I actually have a tree that I call ‘My Tree’ which I’ve cherished since childhood as its majestic presence inspires me, to this very day, to honor its deeply rooted, magnificent strengths, which, over these past 76 years, have continued to do much more than survive the windy city’s fiercest storms while shielding my family’s home under the gorgeous leafy expanse of its umbrella, to which photos cannot do justice without the use of a panoramic lens, because, each time I feel inspired to pay a visit to my tree, I stand before it, marveling, anew, at the circumference of its trunk, which, upon rising ever so high into the sky, branches out so spaciously as to cover the entire corner lot upon which my father built his dream house circa 1953 at which time My Tree had seemed fully grown, so tall and awe-inspiring had been its breadth and height, way back then, so as to have seemed as biblical in nature as was The Tree of Life to ten year old me.  And if, one day, I come across a photo of My Tree, I’ll send it forth, so you can see the ease with which its natural majesty miniaturized my family’s solidly constructed, red brick, two story, four bedroom home.  And thus do we come to see why the self-empowered, lasting presence of My Tree has become synonymous with the on-going development of my strong sense of personal safety, over most of my life. 

And so, my dear friend, Martha, your gift of the tiny mustard seed speaks to my inner strengths more personally than you could have known unless I opened my heart to reveal a vulnerable child, whose intuition somehow knew, straight from the getgo that magnificent trees, which had once been held in hand as tiny seeds, have lessons to gift to small fry with open minds, eager to embrace countless reasons to offer love so naturally and unconditionally as to nurture compassion as being the eleventh commandment, which never made it down the mountain based in Mel Brooks having dropped the third tablet, as seen in The History of the World Part I

As to planting seeds, I remember joining my father, who, smiling, on his knees, handed me seeds, which, upon being gently placed beneath fertile soil, grew into a garden of colorful blooms so beautifully arranged as to have rivaled any award winning floral display, around, and that rainbow-colored memory leads me toward thanking Gail for creating this year’s holiday table arrangement so beautifully that words could not do justice to Suzie’s photo, which truly delighted my spirit‘s sense of nature’s bounty on display.

And then, we come to the place that you set so lovingly for me, while inspirational quotes (each of which I’d love to read) were recited round the table by friends, who I miss dearly, and having read the timely and meaningful message contained within the rainbow card (which was signed by all with such heartfelt sentiment that I couldn’t help but feel so deeply loved as to tear up), so grateful do I feel to have you all, close by, that in answer to the question, which each of you has asked so sincerely—what can I do to ease your way—once my recovery, post surgery, gets underway, Will may deeply appreciate any nutritious meals that ring our bell so as to offer my sweetheart sound reason to relax after taking tender care of me, day after day, week after week, month after month ...

And now, having spoken straight from my heart, I hope you all feel as deeply loved by me as your love has been clearly conveyed in every one of your replies, which inspires my spirit to smile in response to each update that continues to connects me so meaningfully to beloved family and treasured friends. Plain and simple ... I love each of you more deeply than words can clearly express, so thank goodness for emojis

❤️💖💜❣️💕💘💞💝💓💗🙋🏻‍♀️Annie