And there it is. The hardest thing in the world to deal with, the thing that makes the cancer feel like a personal attack at times, instead of just an unfortunate roll of the dice. Missing Gerry is the hardest thing I do, I know it’s so hard for the kids and for his family back in NY, too. The fact that I had 12 years to contemplate and prepare for his leaving us does make it a bit easier, it really does. But at times the pain of knowing I’ll never hug that dear man again is almost overwhelming.
I can’t believe I haven’t blogged in a month! It’s been QUITE a month. I thought that by now I’d be writing about my adorable tutoring students, and how every day I could see in their happy, fascinated faces that I’d made a REAL DIFFERENCE in their little reading lives. Unfortunately, Health ran interference on…
After the past 9 months I’d be happy never to see the inside of a hospital again, but part of me is also wondering if a knee replacement is in my future. I see an orthopedic doc in a few weeks, the same doc I saw 2 years ago who gave me a shot in my knee that helped quite a bit, and I’m curious to find out if this knee pain can be surgically remedied.
I have no idea, when this whole “cancer” thing is done, whether my body will be as it was before. I’m getting a growing sense that, like Gerry, I will ALWAYS carry the pain of the tumor in my back and the damage done by it’s growth into two vertebrae. Will I always be on pain meds to deal with the constant bone & spine pain? I guess these are things that will be revealed I I continue with my recovery. Which is a lovely word.
My goals are to stay put. To get through this thing in one place, mentally and physically. TO just BE HERE, to be present, and to GET THROUGH IT. I would give anything to run away, but that’s not possible, you cannot outrun cancer.
Part of staying put will be trying to keep my good numbers up; good platelet counts, good hemoglobin, just GOOD numbers. And to keep the bad numbers down; heart rate below 100.
I can be relaxed about this so far because it’s only day one. We’ll see how happy I am on day 7, when the side effects begin to come into their own. For now, I’ll enjoy what I can enjoy, not that getting liters and liters of fluids pumped into me all day is terribly ENJOYABLE, but it’s not horrible.
I’m not an oncologist, and I’m not reading as much about this cancer as I probably should. I know many folks facing an illness like this prepare themselves with education, that was Gerry’s way of dealing with Multiple Myeloma. But I am lazier than that, and I know that my comprehension of the disease will probably have no material impact on what my doctors choose to do. I’d rather spend that time reading a novel, knitting or watching some cooking show. Or baking.
So this weekend I’ll get myself square away, packed up, ready to head down to Mayo. Andy’s booked into Days Inn (next to Methodist) and then later in the week she’ll move to the Staybridge Suites (a better choice for us when I’m released from Methodistl, but need to stay down in Rochester.)
This is a bit of a rambly post, I think that has a lot to do with a week of very little sleep and a LOT of chemo drug therapy. In the coming week(s) I may need a transfusion to help with my strength. But what I DO want to convey in this post is my thanks to all of you who have traveled on this road, and have reached out to me, showing off signposts and short cuts along the way.
Thank you. You make me feel braver than I am, and I am grateful!
The fact that I DID have this urge is frightening; obviously there was something inside of me that felt entirely overwhelmed and full of despair. But it was the Lyrica that crystallized those feelings, that made them solid and compelled me to act on them.