Wow! That was a fast turn around if I say so myself!
Sure didn’t expect to update so soon after my last visit with you, but then, today’s update (being written in slow-mo) sees me feeling less upbeat, more beaten up, most likely because chemo, infused on Wed. June 10th, is kicking me around from the inside out as is known to happen the week after each dose is administered, and as side effects are cumulative, that fact added to this next fact, may answer why my body feels like Rocky’s after meeting an opponent in the ring, whose power packed punch came close to knocking our favorite underdog out: You see, the shot I received, which stimulates my bone marrow to produce a well-balanced blood supply, was administered the day after chemo, and as it can take more than a week before both medications kick in to the max, it’s highly likely that this tag team is making my 76 year old bones feel as if they’re literally engaged in a fight for dear life, which has actually been true since October of 2018 when I, concerned about daily headaches and chest pain, began to see a round of doctors, who could do no more than scratch their heads, being that my temp had been normal, no wheezing or coughing had been heard, and no thinking out of the box had surfaced from the depths of anyone’s mind, inclusive of mine—offering the tumor a year’s time to feed upon a large portion of one of my lungs—so though my aching body can’t help but move verrry slooowly, today, let’s get to the good news, ASAP ...
Sure didn’t expect to update so soon after my last visit with you, but then, today’s update (being written in slow-mo) sees me feeling less upbeat, more beaten up, most likely because chemo, infused on Wed. June 10th, is kicking me around from the inside out as is known to happen the week after each dose is administered, and as side effects are cumulative, that fact added to this next fact, may answer why my body feels like Rocky’s after meeting an opponent in the ring, whose power packed punch came close to knocking our favorite underdog out: You see, the shot I received, which stimulates my bone marrow to produce a well-balanced blood supply, was administered the day after chemo, and as it can take more than a week before both medications kick in to the max, it’s highly likely that this tag team is making my 76 year old bones feel as if they’re literally engaged in a fight for dear life, which has actually been true since October of 2018 when I, concerned about daily headaches and chest pain, began to see a round of doctors, who could do no more than scratch their heads, being that my temp had been normal, no wheezing or coughing had been heard, and no thinking out of the box had surfaced from the depths of anyone’s mind, inclusive of mine—offering the tumor a year’s time to feed upon a large portion of one of my lungs—so though my aching body can’t help but move verrry slooowly, today, let’s get to the good news, ASAP ...
I’m deeply relieved to say that both infusions, making up my last round of chemo over these next two Wednesdays, have been cancelled following my platelets plummeting from 66,000 to 9000, again, which is why we received a call, right after labs, instructing us to hightail it back to Mayo where an out patient transfusion was administered to ward off another spontaneous bleed (and probable hospitalization). Btw—a healthy platelet count hovers around 150,000.
Whew! Really glad to have dodged a repeat performance of that!
As chemo and my blood do not get along, cancelling both infusions, which would have made up my last round of chemo before surgery, offers my blood cell production time to restrengthen while the rest of me re-energizes during the weeks ahead, which will see Will wheeling me into Mayo, several times, weekly, for pre-op studies, labs and tests before boarding a flight to Houston encased within goggles, mask, face shield, gloves and a hazmat suit, size M, since a small was not to be had. (When considering the nature of unexpected changes, here’s one thing I can say for certain—I remember when gents had boarded flights garbed in suits, starched white shirts and ties while ladies in dresses had donned hats, heels and gloves—cotton, satin or leather if you please—definitely not plastic, boxed in disposable pairs of one hundred, choices limited to small, medium, large ...
Last Friday’s schedule noted a test for Covid-19, followed by labs to double check platelets. 👍. The corker was a lengthy echo cardio-stress test (medication administered through my port replacing treadmill) to raise my heart rate while an ultrasound technician recorded images of my heart refraction, which had been seriously affected by chemo when my last echo was administered in April, initiating the reduction of harshness, perpetrated by the second protocol of chemo.
Now that the protocol has been changed three times and since side effects, interfering with blood production, continue to build up, exacerbating my being oxygen deprived, leaving me with overall achiness, shortness of breath, and managing fatigue as best I can, you can imagine the depths of my relief upon hearing that lengthy tests, coming up, such as pulmonary function, cardiac MRI and PET Scan, all scheduled over these next two weeks, will not be further complicated by the build up of invasive side effects resultant of chemo treatments (wrestling with the sarcoma), which have mercifully been cancelled to ensure my being strong enough to endure a pair of serious surgeries ...
Best news of the week—
Will’s reaction to yesterday’s echo’s results.
Based in changes in chemo’s protocols, my heart function is restored to the level that was true, last November, before the invasive nature of harsher chemos had run interference with heart being strong like bull! A very good improvement preceding heart surgery, right?😊
Secondly was the reaction of four technicians, a bevy of young women representative of The United Nations, who, working in tandem, administered yesterday’s cardio-echo, two at computers, a third, eyes glued to the ultrasound screen while one hand moved the wand as she took pictures of my heart with me lying on my side—and the fourth, offering me bedside guidance as to inhaling, exhaling, ball squeezing and feet running in place through the air, while all four spirits encouraged mine to pick up the pace in order to meet 122 heartbeats per minute, and when, suddenly, I shot up to 127, my quartet of cheerleaders were so excited with how quickly my echo was completed and how clear the pictures proved to be—based in my having followed on-going instructions concerning breathing and holding still —you’d have thought I’d just won a virtual sports competition.
Secondly was the reaction of four technicians, a bevy of young women representative of The United Nations, who, working in tandem, administered yesterday’s cardio-echo, two at computers, a third, eyes glued to the ultrasound screen while one hand moved the wand as she took pictures of my heart with me lying on my side—and the fourth, offering me bedside guidance as to inhaling, exhaling, ball squeezing and feet running in place through the air, while all four spirits encouraged mine to pick up the pace in order to meet 122 heartbeats per minute, and when, suddenly, I shot up to 127, my quartet of cheerleaders were so excited with how quickly my echo was completed and how clear the pictures proved to be—based in my having followed on-going instructions concerning breathing and holding still —you’d have thought I’d just won a virtual sports competition.
Upon asking why they were so complimentary since all I did was to follow directions, all four laughed and one answered—you arrived in a wheelchair wearing a turban. You were in need of steadying as you transferred to the bed. We didn’t expect you to follow instructions to the letter. We expected to have to stop to minister to your frustration. We figured that getting your heart rate up to 122 would take close to two hours, and you shot up to 127 in less than one! None of us expected your spirit to exceed our expectations.
Oh! Well—I replied—with tongue in cheek—in that case, I’m not surprised to have exceeded your expectations.
Oh! Well—I replied—with tongue in cheek—in that case, I’m not surprised to have exceeded your expectations.
Why is that? asked one of the four ...
I’ve been an over achiever since I was three!
At that, we enjoyed a good laugh, and once gel had been wiped away, I was helped off with the gown and on with my clothes as the wheel chair rolled back into the room.
Quite soon after we arrived home, Will answered the phone. The cardiologist, whom we’d only met once, was calling with my echo’s results to save us from worrying, over the weekend. Now how kind and unexpected was that! Wow!
Over the next several hours, Will could not stop grinning! Literally. He was all keyed. Up! Every time his eyes met mine, his inner glow shown forth.
So all things considered—though my body feels beaten up, surely you can see why my spirit feels more up beat than not concerning good fortune coming my way.
I mean, what if my heart refraction had not recovered? Surgery would have been too risky. And with chemo out of the question, the tumor would have reactivated ... nuff said ...
I mean, what if my heart refraction had not recovered? Surgery would have been too risky. And with chemo out of the question, the tumor would have reactivated ... nuff said ...
Here’s yet another example of my good fortune weighing in—Most of this post was penned, yesterday, while David (having tested negative for Covid) was driving from the coast toward the desert with plans to stay at the home of a dear friend, who has been quarantining at her boyfriend’s house). And hopefully, Bryce is driving in from the coast, today.
Though David had a flat, thank goodness he was but an hour away from our house, so while a tow truck was called for his car, Steven, coming to the aid of his younger brother, drove out to the spot on the freeway where David, seeking shelter from 107 degree heat, blazing hot as fire, stood beneath an underpass in readiness to wave his brother down—and by the time our sons entered our patio gate and knocked on my bedroom window to announce their arrival—both had cooled down in Steven’s air conditioned car, and as all was well, once more, our hopeful hearts awaited hearing from Bryce ... suggesting that when we’re so fortunate as to people our lives with so many loved ones, our minds are always refilling with hopes for good news of one kind or another.
Though David had a flat, thank goodness he was but an hour away from our house, so while a tow truck was called for his car, Steven, coming to the aid of his younger brother, drove out to the spot on the freeway where David, seeking shelter from 107 degree heat, blazing hot as fire, stood beneath an underpass in readiness to wave his brother down—and by the time our sons entered our patio gate and knocked on my bedroom window to announce their arrival—both had cooled down in Steven’s air conditioned car, and as all was well, once more, our hopeful hearts awaited hearing from Bryce ... suggesting that when we’re so fortunate as to people our lives with so many loved ones, our minds are always refilling with hopes for good news of one kind or another.
So, Will and I will thoroughly enjoy patio visits while we, relaxing on loungers, drink in the loving presence of our family through the glass of our Arcadia door, cell phones in hand—quarantine style, while we converse, back and forth, about who knows what just happy to be together—though missing Barry’s family as they miss us.
Needless to say, at 107 degrees, much of David’s time (and hopefully, Bryce’s) will be spent taking turns with Steven’s family, cooling off in our spa. Ravi, David and Bryce, adoring each other, are sure to entertain each other’s sense of fun as well as our own, offering Steven a chance to relax,
once their imaginative, high spirited shenanigans get started.
Needless to say, at 107 degrees, much of David’s time (and hopefully, Bryce’s) will be spent taking turns with Steven’s family, cooling off in our spa. Ravi, David and Bryce, adoring each other, are sure to entertain each other’s sense of fun as well as our own, offering Steven a chance to relax,
once their imaginative, high spirited shenanigans get started.
And sooo—here’s hoping that you enjoy Father’s Day with loved ones as best as proves possible!
Please be safe and well—resourceful and patient, hopeful, and playful!!🧚🏻♂️
With so much for which to feel hopeful as the immediate future unfolds, let’s guess how many times that spirit-lifting word emerged from within the intuitive side of my mind so as to sprinkle fairy dust all over today’s train of thought 😊
With so much for which to feel hopeful as the immediate future unfolds, let’s guess how many times that spirit-lifting word emerged from within the intuitive side of my mind so as to sprinkle fairy dust all over today’s train of thought 😊
Feel my love smiling playfully with yours ...
And if you believe in fairies—clap three times!
I mean—what do we have to lose?😊🧚🏻♂️
And if you believe in fairies—clap three times!
I mean—what do we have to lose?😊🧚🏻♂️
🙋🏻♀️❤️😘
Annie
Sent from my iPad
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