Category Archives:Good Day

Dec. 30.

And So It Begins … Again

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (16)

When I saw the oncologist last week we didn’t have the results from the CT Scan. I saw my regular physician this week and he had the results. And I’ll be candid … they aren’t good. The scan revealed what I already knew — that the nodule on my neck was not the only lymphoma mass that would be found. In fact, by the time I went to the doctor this week, a few more had made their presence known. I have a smattering in the neck area, one in the chest, and several in the abdomen. My doctor, who is a cautious physician, wants me to discuss prognosis with the oncologist. And being me, I asked what value it would have to know a number that is going to be inaccurate anyway?

My first acts to accomplish in 2017 is to get my affairs in order. Not because I believe I’m dying or that I won’t recover, but because it needs to be done and has been on my mind for some time and it is time to stop procrastinating. EVERYONE should have their affairs in order. You never know when that bus is going to run you over. Plain and simple. No one is guaranteed any specific time on this Earth. And now that I’ve said that, I have NO intention of going anywhere anytime soon. I have too much to accomplish with my life and I intend to do it.

My doctor was a little down with my results. My lab results are bad. My scan results are bad. But I was ready to dance a jig because the scan results had one result that made me very, very happy. I have been having near constant pain under my left rib cage for a few weeks, and eating certain foods made it extremely painful, which I have been finding out by trial and error. When with the oncologist, we discussed and we both felt it might be an enlargement of the spleen. Which is something you DON’T want. The scan results showed that my spleen was perfectly normal and the area where the pain is coming from is where there are some lymphoma lumps taking up space. We’re getting ready to blast those with chemo, so they will be going bye-bye, and I’ll just have small, soft meals in the meantime. But there was one little problem. I didn’t have the chemo meds yet and didn’t know when they would arrive. My doc got the oncologists office on the line and asked them to find out what was going on as he wanted me on the chemo immediately. There had been a slight mix-up and the meds had not been ordered, but they got it straightened out same day, and I received the shipment yesterday.

The chemo comes from a specialty pharmacy and so far I am incredibly impressed. They provide a mechanism to help you remember whether you have taken your medication or not as well as timer to put on the bottle cap that will alert you that it is time to take your next dose. And for me, this is fabulous. I don’t do pill dispensers well (it is such a hassle to fill them for me), so the little thing to flip it to show that you’ve taken it IS something I can do. Especially as it sticks directly on the bottle itself. And the timer??? Brilliant. Especially when I lose track of time so easily. Then after they arrived, the pharmacist called and went over how I am to take the medication, what to do, what not to do, and to let me know that they had trained staff available via phone 24/7 if I had any questions or couldn’t reach my doctor.

I will shortly be taking my second dose. So far, so good. A brief period of wooziness, but other than that feeling the same. The biggest thing for me to figure out was when to schedule the dose because I have to take on an empty stomach, so nothing 2 hours prior and 1 hour after (except water), and it has to be taken at the same time every day (hence the handy dandy timer). When I saw that it may cause dizziness, I decided to wait until after I had seen the knee doctor yesterday (yes, I managed to get some fluid on my knee that was giving me some trouble), so I felt after dinner would be good. That way, if I’m not feeling well, I can simply go to bed.

The picture at the top of the post fits the mood right now so perfectly. Yes, there is darkness, but the light is shining through. I am filled with hope and am so encouraged to be taking action to beat this cancer back down into submission. I am blessed in my friends and the number of people who care about me, I will never be able to say Thank You enough.

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Dec. 20.

The Light Ahead

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (8)

My doctors always tell me to stay away from sick people — and I have done my best, but there is a part of my brain that wonders how that is even possible. Turns out my best wasn’t quite good enough because I picked up an infection while grocery shopping (I know, I know… I should have left it on the shelf, but the bugger jumped in the cart, and boy have I paid for it). That was early November. Last week, I finally got the all clear from my doc, but it took 2 courses of strong antibiotics to beat it. I am used to responding well to antibiotics, so to have been on one of the stronger antibiotics to begin with to have to need something stronger was a bit concerning. Fortunately, it did knock it out. But the night before my “well-check”, I felt a little pea-sized nodule on the side of my neck. So I pointed it out because I thought it might be the lymphoma making an appearance. My doctor felt the same, so he called the oncologist and I had a CT scan done on Friday.

I had an appointment with the oncologist today (in advance of my quarterly appointment) and she agrees that my blood values are rising too quickly for what is normally a slow-progressing disease, and that the nodule, as well as a few others she found during the exam, are lymphoma. So, it is back to chemo. With a twist. There are new treatment protocols and the one she feels is best for me at this time means that I only have to take a pill a day instead of a monthly drug infusion via IV. WHAT A RELIEF!! I will have to go in monthly to have my blood values checked to ensure the treatment is working as it should, but no spending about 20 hours over the course of 3 days with an IV in on a monthly basis.

The picture at the top expresses exactly how I feel at the moment. So peaceful and calm with a lantern lighting my way.

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Aug. 15.

Update From the Hermit Hut

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (1)
Old Wood House

Old Wood House

Normally, I talk about the picture at the bottom of my post, but as we head toward fall, I loved this particular image for a variety of reasons. The colors, the remoteness, and the feeling like you could hide away inside and nobody would ever find you. For most writers, that idea is bliss. A place where there is only you and the words on the page; a place to shut out the rest of the world for a period of time.

IMG_20160812_210640It has been a month since I posted about no longer being in remission. I have been reminded how blessed I am to have the friends and family I do. I am touched to know how much support I have — though in many ways this is a solitary journey, I do not take it alone. I am reminded of this on a daily basis. At last update, I was told to stay away from sick people, which can be difficult in an office environment. In fact, the Friday following my appointment, I received a timely reminder as to how difficult it really is. I was generally staying in my somewhat isolated workstation area, but went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea when one of the sales reps walked in to get some coffee. We started chatting and during the course of the conversation, she mentioned she had a cold. I would never have known had she not mentioned it. As it was, I backed up, apologized if I seemed rude and told her I couldn’t be around her.

IMG_20160812_210528Fortunately, I had already put the steps into motion to get a note from the doctor to allow me to work from home, and that is where I have been ever since — enjoying life as a hermit. The desk pics you see are my new desk/workstation I have finally put together. I had ordered the desk and it arrived on 8/1, but it wasn’t put together until 8/12. Today was a good day because I finally got a chance to use the standing workstation again. I am used to standing in the office and brought the stand and the monitors from work, along with my keyboard and mouse. In these past few weeks I have learned beyond a shadow of a doubt that I require a standing workstation for the sake of my back. With as much desk work as I do, I cannot sit for that many hours without paying a severe price with my back. The first week was okay, the second painful, and last week excruciating. But a good massage over the weekend and working standing up today and I am doing much, much better.

As for my health, I received a call from the oncologist office to tell me to make an appointment with my GP because my thyroid values were out of whack. I called the office and had them call in the prescription for me, one that I had been able to be off for over a year, and made the appointment. The day before my appointment, an eye infection cropped up, and I was glad it decided to show up before rather than after the appointment. I have also been battling a patch of fungal infection on my leg for the better part of the year, and while I get it to a point where it is not bothersome, it continues to come back, so I asked the doc for some more cream to treat it. The surprise was the spot on my finger was a pre-cancer. It cropped up that very day and we froze it off.

So nothing major, just small inconveniences that have to be dealt with right away so they don’t get out of control. Based on my conversation with the doc, it does seem more likely that I will be headed back to chemo in the next couple months. He received the full report from my oncologist and mentioned that she said she’d have to treat me again. They have not asked me to come back in sooner than October, so I would anticipate either late October or early November. Which is kind of what I anticipated anyway.

So … the worst issue so far has been my back, and tiring sooner than I would like. I take naps daily and my back is already TONS better than it was last week, so all in all I’m good.

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Mar. 14.

Cycle 5, Day 3 – Hydration

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (6)

Okay… this post is a day late, but I can sum up the reason in a single word ….

EXHAUSTION

By the time I got home yesterday and handled some things for the day job, I had nothing left in the tank. My entire system threatened to revolt if I attempted to get one more thing done, so I did what I should have and went to bed early. But as tired as I was, I still found plenty to be grateful for. The daily ups and downs of life are truly put into perspective when you sit in a room with people who all have the same goal—to keep on living. Yesterday, we were so full in the chemo room, one man had to start his chemo sitting in a regular chair, until one of the other chairs was freed up. And one patient was having chemo in another room because we were so full.

I sat in my chair, thankful exhaustion was the worst of my woes for the day. Others are not so lucky—discussions of hospice and whether continuing chemotherapy will help to prolong life enough or whether it is time to make the patient as comfortable as possible—my heart goes out to those patients and their families for the hard times ahead. And I keep thinking about the guy I sat next to yesterday. He had to use a walker and had a brace on his knee ON TOP of having chemo. I asked him whether he at least had fun banging up his knee. He had been playing basketball when he hurt himself, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t know that he has osteosarcoma. Hopefully because he hurt himself, they will have caught it early enough.

Young, fit, your whole life ahead of you, or so you think, until you take a tumble on the basketball court and find out your horizon may not stretch as far as you once thought. Those were the thoughts I saw behind his eyes, as he went through his first chemo session. It’s not what he expected, but it’s something he has to deal with.

We don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, we don’t know whether the treatment is going to work the way we hope, we can only keep the faith and move forward knowing we’re doing what we can to help our bodies heal. And so for me, I am thankful for exhaustion because things could be worse. I am thankful for my support network. And I’m thankful for the experiences that help me see things from a different perspective.

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Mar. 12.

Cycle 5, Day 2 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
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Despite having taken the sleeping pill as I do on chemo nights, I still didn’t fall asleep until after midnight. And I took the pill early. I was certainly tired enough to sleep … exhausted is more like it, my mind wouldn’t rest until I made a note about something that wouldn’t leave me alone. I might understand if the thing that wouldn’t leave me alone had ANYTHING to do with the chemo, or the edits I’m working on, or even the book I’m currently researching and plotting out. But the pesky bugger was about a blog post I might want to write, one of these days when I have a few spare minutes. Nothing urgent. And something I’m certainly NOT doing this week.

After I made the note, I finally drifted off only to be awakened a few hours later by Denny getting out of bed a few times after Phoenix had gone down and scratched at the door to get out. After he put her back in bed the third time, I got up. I know Phoenix—when she gets an idea stuck in her head, she is NOT going to let it rest until she accomplishes whatever mission she is on. When I followed her, she first went over by the dresser and then to the bedroom door, and I realized she was thirsty. When I go to bed early (to read or work from bed), I bring the girls water dish in and set it next to the dresser so they can get a drink if they need one. They need their liquids just as much as we do. And while we didn’t go to be early, she was thirsty. I filled up a glass with water and she slurped away, only to be joined by Elsa as soon as the water was turned on. It had been a warm day.

After we were up at the necessary time, I told Denny she had been thirsty because he slept through the wee hour drink fest. His response? But it wasn’t time for a drink. Like telling that to a dog is going to mean anything at all. Phoenix didn’t care about what time it was … she was thirsty and wanted a drink. End of story.

Another thing that concerned Denny is that I have been snoring during sleep since starting chemo, and he is concerned about what it means and is disturbed because he doesn’t sleep as well. This coming from the man who can wake the dead with his snores. Yes, I am snoring. I have allergic reactions to the chemo drugs, and though we are running the drip at a slower rate so I don’t stop breathing, that doesn’t mean I am free of any reaction whatsoever. It means that the reaction has been reduced to a level that is not life threatening. I am taking my allergy meds—daily, but my sinuses are perennially stuffed, and I snore. This will improve after the chemo stops and I can lose some of the weight I have gained from the chemo, and I’ll no longer be getting the monthly dose of something I’m highly allergic to. I did recommend he go to Walgreen’s and pick up some earplugs.

Sooooo… the actual chemo today. It was delayed. We arrived right on time, and along with the supervising doctor, so all was good … except the delivery of the chemo drugs had been delayed and they didn’t have my cocktail for the day. But it was expected within the hour, so I kicked back and tried to work on some edits. I did accomplish some, but it became clear to me, my level of exhaustion was hindering the process and I wouldn’t be able to focus on the job at hand without at least a power nap. About the time I had this figured out, the cocktail arrived and I was hooked up. I pushed back and took a trip to the land of nod. And like yesterday, didn’t sleep deeply, but at least rested in limbo land and was able to defuzz my brain enough to get some work done. By the time the chemo was finished, so was I. Absolute exhaustion had set in. I didn’t even want anything for lunch. The only thing I wanted to find was my pillow. An hour later, I was ready to start working again. I still have another hour or so of juice left, and then it’ll be (hopefully) time to get a GOOD night’s sleep.

Denny was able to spend the time waiting in the chemo room with me, and I was the only patient through the time I was there. Apparently the only other patients for chemo that day were injection patients. So it was quiet.

Today, I’m just rolling along like the wave in the picture. Wherever the tide takes me.

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Mar. 11.

Cycle 5, Day 1 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
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This will probably be a short quickly dashed off post because I have taken my meds and it’s been a long day already. I was able to have chemo. (YAY!!!) My liver values had gone back down, so that was a good sign. And they are going to wait until Thursday and then give me the white count booster shot, so all is good there as well. Chemo itself went well today.

On the other hand, I was exhausted. For the first time in any chemo session, I rested for a bit. I was attempting to work on my secret editing project, but knew my brain wasn’t with me, so I kicked back and rested for about an hour… you know the land in between actual wakefulness, and deep sleep where you can hear everything going on around you, but can’t open your eyes??? Yeah, that’s where I was. And after I sat back up and had a little hummus, I was able to focus much more clearly on the task at hand.

We did have a moment this afternoon that caused my chemo nurse some concern—I started coughing. Anyone who knows me well, knows me coughing is not an extraordinary event, but with my white counts being so low, she was concerned I might be coming down with something and wanted to make sure that if it continued after I left, or if my throat became sore, that I would call… regardless of whether the time was midnight or even later. I had been so focused on what I was doing, I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings. After all the other patients had left, and Denny had come to pick me up, I let the chemo nurse know what was most likely the cause of my coughing spasm.

One patient I have met before, came into the chemo room with her son to wait for the doctor to be free because she’d had her labs done, but then needed to see the doctor. The son is a heavy smoker, to the point where his pores exude the smell of smoke. Add that together with me being highly allergic to cigarette smoke, and you have a reason for my coughing spasm. I didn’t think about it when I started wheezing. I advise the nurse I was wheezing, took out my inhaler, and took a puff, then continued on with the task at hand. It was only after the chemo nurse questioned me about the coughing that I took stock of my surroundings and realized what was going on.

Funnily enough, they were sitting on the opposite side of the room from me, but that indicates the strength of the reaction. Anyway, the coughing abated after they left, and I’m doing well. Except for now being extremely tired and in search of my pillow.

The picture at the top of the post I thought apt because the mill may be old, but it can still grind exceedingly fine. And I feel a bit like having been run through the mill. 😀 Until tomorrow, goodnight.

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Feb. 12.

Cycle 4, Day 2 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
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My Status: Rested and hubs brought ice cream
Mood: Good

We had a little hiccough in getting started with today’s chemo … two hiccoughs. The first bump occurred with my port. When prepping the port for use, the nurse will first draw blood (and put it back in) to make sure there are no clogs or clots happening. One of the nurses is training to work with the ports because not everyone can work with them. She tried and no blood return. She had the line a little too taut, and the teaching nurse showed her how to do it correctly, but still no blood return. So they shot a little heparin in there and gave me a few minutes and voila, blood return. All in all, no big deal. We’ll see how things go tomorrow.

Interestingly, there was another patient who came in after me, and had the same issue with her port. Her daughter was with her and in her concern kept asking more and more questions about the “blockage”. She was worried, but she was also not allowing her mother to relax, so I quipped that it must be the day for it and explained that my port had the same issue. The daughter laughed and was able to relax after that and her mother finally relaxed as well. Maybe the purpose of my port not behaving was so I could provide perspective for another patient and her family. I was fine and laughing about the little problem so they could relax and gain confidence that the chemo would happen … which it did.

The other hiccough? Dr. Doogie was delayed in his arrival. Why does this matter? Because they cannot start chemo, even the pre-chemo cocktail unless a qualified doctor is there to sign off on it. So I had a couple packets of water going through the line, which gave the nurse a chance to ensure the port was working properly, and we got started a little later than anticipated. But all in all, no big deal on either issue.

Denny was my chauffeur for the day, and since I have chemo at the secondary facility on Wednesday’s under the backup doctor’s overview, there are very few other patients, so he came to the chemo room with me and stayed the full time because the other port-problem patient was the ONLY other patient. This has both good points and bad points. The good? Denny has a chance to feel more involved in the process and that he is there for me. He sees what I’m going through and when I’m calm about things like the blood drawback not working, he doesn’t get all het up and have the questions the other patient’s daughter was expressing—which he would have, had he not been present at the time.

The bad? Oy. I take things with me to do during chemo … otherwise I’d be bored silly, since I can’t seem to sleep, which is what most patients do. Today, I was focused on working on my secret project and making some good headway with it. Before starting on the secret project, I did spend the first hour or so chatting with Denny and the nurses. So I didn’t completely neglect him. When I was ready to work, I put in my headphones, announced I was putting in my headphones, and Denny told the nurse what that meant … I was not to be disturbed. Or as he puts it “I can’t talk to her then.” Here’s the problem … it didn’t stop him from flashing magazines at me and sharing car pictures, etc. For me and interruption to the work is an interruption—whether verbal or non. I was good … I didn’t huff or get angry, I just nodded and went back to work. I would have preferred not to have the interruption.

He is my chauffeur tomorrow as well, but there will likely not be any extra chairs, but I also have covered myself by telling him I’ll bring the Kindle so he can read a book he’s been wanting to read for a while. Any little bit helps.

The picture of the dandelion is two-fold for today. I thought the symbolism of the flower sprouting through decaying wood a metaphor for taking the bad port situation and turning it around for the other patient and her family. The other reason the dandelion is significant is that since not being able to have chemo on my appointed week because my liver enzymes were high, I have been drinking dandelion root tea to help my liver function … and (knock on wood) it is working. Since then, my liver levels have been very good. Dandelions and dandelion root tea is beneficial for more than just the liver as well. Shortly after drinking the tea with positive results, I had a discussion on Facebook with several folks about the benefits, and will link to this article on 11 Health Benefits for additional reading if you’re interested. Briefly, the eleven benefits mentioned are:

    • Digestive Aid
    • Kidney
    • Liver
    • Antioxidants
    • Cancer
    • Diabetes
    • High Blood Pressure
    • Cholesterol
    • Gallbladder
    • Inflammation
    • Immune System

Ultimately, the tea is good for me to help with my digestive system, liver values, cancer, inflammation, and my immune system (and I’m drinking some while writing this post). I actually notice a difference in my body, water retention/inflammation in particular, especially on chemo days, when I forget, or don’t get around to having a cup. It has been added to my daily routine and I think may continue past the chemo life cycle.

And once again, my friends have proved their worth. Last night, after my marathon day of chemo, I was a little more than fuzzy-headed and question whether I should work or watch a movie. In every single response the result was movie. You guys ROCK!!! And Practical Magic was just the ticket for me. Tonight the muzziness is not too bad, but I came home and took a nap after having some lunch. And now… on to the ice cream Denny brought home tonight after picking up my meds for me. 😀 (Oh and sorry about the screen shot below, I wanted to embed the FB status, but FB says it no longer exists… funny how I can take a screen shot of something that doesn’t exist, eh?

FacebookStatus

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Feb. 11.

Cycle 4, Day 1 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (4)

My Status: A little fuzzy around the edges
Mood: Good

I feel like there should be a warning at the beginning of this post …

****WARNING**** Mind explosion in progress.

In a nation focused on the freezing weather, the nice market boost based on the words of new Fed chief, Yellin, and the controversy surrounding whether Blake Griffin actually smacked Justin Bieber in Starbucks, or (more seriously) the death of Shirley Temple Black, my update about how chemo went is small potatoes. But I’m going to give it anyway. 😉

Tuesday’s are my loooooong day, but at least I was able to start my day earlier than normal so we weren’t making our way home at six o’clock. There is just something psychologically daunting about having been sitting in a chair all day and to not be finished by five. Last time I found myself staring at the drip and timing the next one. Not really a healthy mental place to be when I could have been focusing on getting something done. Anyway, starting early helped tremendously because there was still daylight on the drive home. However, first thing sitting in the chair, I was antsy. Could not get comfortable and couldn’t sit still. My fault, entirely. Last night, for some silly reason I can’t even remember, I decided not to use my bed of nails, even though I knew my lower back was having problems. I paid the price for that decision today. Since I couldn’t concentrate on what I had intended to do, I started a movie and things settled down.

Today became a reminder for how truly blessed I am in my journey. I have people who care, people who are willing to drive me to and/or from the treatments, people who are praying for me and my recovery. And I’m blessed in some aspects with my particular diagnosis and resulting treatments because while there have been one or two bumps along the way, my journey so far has been relatively smooth (and I’d really like it to stay that way).

I was reminded about the differences in diagnosis when I learned this morning of a very good friend who went to the ER because of a cough and has been diagnosed with lung cancer. And a reminder from my chemo nurse when she shared that she had to take her father for a lung biopsy tomorrow—and her father is not listening to the doctors, but dismissing them as being over zealous in their testing. And the reminder of how my journey have been relatively good came from a patient who I’d had chemo with before … she arrived to find out she may not be able to have chemo today, but would definitely be checking into the hospital for the next 4-5 days because of some negative test results.

In some ways the reminder of the journey itself hit harder because I watched her face and saw the reaction to learning she had a serious issue going on that had to be dealt with in the immediate future. I remembered my reaction to being told to go home, chemo wasn’t happening that week. How much worse to be told you’d be going directly to the hospital next door? Fortunately, she was able to have chemo prior to going next door to the hospital, but it was definitely a blow to her.

At the end of the day it was me, the other patient, and the chemo nurse chatting. And the other patient said something that made me count another blessing—the worst part of her journey was the exhaustion and she wished she could have my energy. I’ve been tired, I have worked through exhaustion, but I have been fortunate enough to have more energy on a regular basis than most of the chemo patients I’ve come into contact with. Okay, for starters, I really don’t sit still well and never have, so she was seeing me at the end of a day where I’d been in the chair for eight hours already. But the truth is that I have not had many of the exhausted days where the act of opening your eyelids should be greeted with trumpets blaring and confetti falling. I am more tired than normal for me, and my ability to focus on things has been severely depleted (like starting this post thinking I need to make tea, reminded myself 3 times before I realized I had half a cup at my elbow ready to drink—okay, that may just be chemo muzziness settling in). But I also know things could be a LOT worse. I’m thankful they aren’t.

Now I need to grab my HOT tea (finally made a fresh mug) and see what I can get done before getting up and doing the chemo thing all over again. I loved the picture for this post because today I felt a little like a kitten in a pot … not really happy with being confined, but not able to run away either. Besides, the kitten is too stinkin’ cute not to post.

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Jan. 20.

Halfway to the Unknown

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (6)

My Status: A little more tired than I’d like to admit
Mood: Good

Just a quick update… I saw my doctor today to review my blood work, as I do every Monday after chemo treatments, and had a chance to ask her how I was doing overall since we had hit the halfway mark. Are you ready for her response????

We don’t know.

She agreed that it was a good time to make an assessment of progress and was ready to send me for some tests—but then she looked at my chart. Here’s the problem … the tests she thought about running as a gauge to see how the chemo was working didn’t show the evil abnormalities the first time around, so re-running them wouldn’t give us any better idea about how I’m responding to the treatment than I know right now. The test which gave us the information about the abnormalities in the leukemia and the lymphoma was the bone marrow biopsy, and because of the potential for infection, the doctor will not conduct that test again until AFTER I have completed all six treatment cycles.

So it means we’ll have to wait until after my April treatment with probably a little bit of time for me to recover from the treatment itself, then have the biopsy done and wait a week or two for the results. In all likelihood, I won’t know how I’m doing against the cancer in me until the end of May.

Does my body really need to keep everything a secret??? I get the whole mysterious woman thing, but seriously, I’m not supposed to be mysterious to myself.

Other than the whole not really knowing how I’m doing overall against cancer, my blood values are good and the doc is quite pleased with how healthy I look, and how well I’ve been managing the treatments so far. So we’ll just keep moving forward one step at a time.

PS—I did ask the doc about using the port for taking blood, but she prefers not because not everyone knows how to handle the port, and it is more prone to infection than a normal stick for blood. *sigh* It took two tries to get me today… this is becoming a trend.

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Jan. 16.

Cycle 3, Day 3 – Hydration

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (8)

ButterflyFairy

My Status: Rested
Mood: Good

This will be a short post. Things went well today. I managed to have my first ever hydration day of less than 4 hours. YAY!!! I arrived early and got started about 15 minutes early, so finished in 3.5 hours. Lovin’ the new port for the speed if nothing else. But also loving that they don’t have to stick me to get the IV in. But the BIGGEST thing about today is I am OFFICIALLY 50% of the way through the treatment cycle.

**Sets off sparkly confetti cannon**

The road ahead is getting shorter and hopefully everything is working as it should with the treatments, and I will have a relatively clean bill of health at the end. It is very mentally and emotionally satisfying to hit the half way mark. I am surviving and doing it quite well, all things considered. Today really was a good day—the treatment was shorter, I got to spend time with my mom, and I took a two-hour nap. AND I managed to get some editing done while sitting in the chair. I feel blessed.

The picture today is a combination of butterflies (I see them as dancing) and a serene fairy because I need the fantasy touch at the moment.

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Jan. 15.

Cycle 3, Day 2 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (4)

My Status: Rested
Mood: Good

Normally I talk about the picture for the post at the end, but I’m going to switch things up today and talk about this one now. 🙂 This picture spoke to me because it is how I feel right now. My body has a few cracks, and I may be a bit mossy around the edges, but I’m rested and merging with what I need to make me whole. (Besides… I can totally do that hairstyle right now.) My journey so far through Leukemia and Lymphoma has had relatively few bumps and for that I am eternally grateful. Resting is what my body needs… and sometimes is the most difficult thing for me to do.

Today went very smooth. Arrived on time, the chemo nurse put a new needle in, hooked me up, and away we dripped. At a normal pace. She slowed it down during the middle because she didn’t want to give it to me too fast, and as a consequence I am much clearer-headed than yesterday. 3 hours and we were ready to leave. SUCCESS!!!! The only issue I had was starting to get antsy from sitting near the end. And after yesterday’s marathon, can you blame me?

HalsaMatAt night, I usually use my spike mat, aka my modern bed of nails, to help relax my back and work out some of the back issues I have, but last night I didn’t use it. Primarily because I was so foggy and had taken a sleeping pill, and didn’t want to stay on it for too long or I might have permadents in my back. But since I DIDN’T use it… my back was not happy with more hours in the chair. Those who know me well, know I swear by my spike mat. It has allowed me to keep my back from completely giving up on me and helps me get a much better night sleep. And the pillow is the best part. LOVE my pillow. Anyway, today after being antsy during chemo, I came home, got out the mat and took a nap—despite the drug in the pre-chemo cocktail designed to hype me up. THAT is the power of the spike mat. I feel refreshed, my brain isn’t hazy, and I’m ready to attack more edits. Huzzah!!!

Now I should probably think about something to eat… oh yeah, before my nap, the tum was rumbling a bit, but now is solid. More fluid flushing and a bit of something to eat in my future. 😉 All for now. Looking forward to closing out this cycle tomorrow and I will be 50% of the way through my chemo sessions.

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Jan. 14.

Cycle 3, Day 1 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (2)
Tyrol, Austrian Alps

Tyrol, Austrian Alps

My Status: Mush-Brained
Mood: Good

My brain is mush… seriously, it feels numb. So please forgive any typos or nonsense sentences in the following. Today’s chemo went well, although it was a slow process. I arrived at 0900 to start my first bag—the one I had an allergic reaction to during Cycle 2. Six-and-a-half hours later, we finally managed to make it to bag 2. Looking at the time, a collective sigh went up because I’ve never managed bag 2 in under 3.5 hours. But this time it was different. This time we were using the Power PAC … In slightly less than 2 hours bag 2 was history. THAT is the power of the Power PAC.

Take a moment to imagine me sitting there watching the bag deflate, fist pumping, and singing “I got the Power”.

What makes the difference? When using the veins in my arms, they are big enough to handle the IV full flow, so even when not having to run the drip slow because of the potential for allergic reaction, they had to run me slower than most because of my veins. But the Power PAC is installed in my jugular… and if the jugular can’t handle it, then I’m giving up. Not really, but still…. Due to the larger vein size, it can handle the chemo at an improved rate, so likely my day 2 and day 3 times will decrease. Excuse me while I happy dance for a bit. Oh and the increased rate is probably responsible for the brain haze/numbness I’m experiencing at the moment because before I had more time to combat it. Definitely a good thing I have drivers taking me home.

When I went for my labs yesterday, I had the nurse re-bandage my port area because it was ridiculous. I had tape from the outside of my right arm to the middle of my sternum. And gauze… oh my goodness, the gauze. Over the weekend, I thought about offering my services to a football team for the play-offs. I’m sure they would have bounced off my gauze. And one of the most important (to me) aspects is that tomorrow I will be able to shower normally because THERE IS NO NEEDLE IN ME. The chemo nurse took the needle out because there is a limit to the number of days it should be left in… and I was at the max. So tomorrow a new needle for Wednesday and Thursday, and not another one for a month. YA!!!!

I like the picture for this post because it shows a beautiful, gorgeous, really, sky with only a few fluffy white clouds on the horizon. It sums up my day. Hard to be confined for that long day, and the brain numbness takes some getting used to, but overall—Terrific.

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Jan. 09.

Surgery Day

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (8)
Patagonia, Argentina

Patagonia, Argentina
Miriadna.com

My Status: Feeling pretty good
Mood: Determined

Surgery day started dark and early … the alarm woke us at 04:30. The dogs ignored the alarm going off because they are used to their Papa getting up at odd hours for work. They did a double take when I rousted myself to shower. The surgery itself went very smooth. As a bit of irony, the only trouble they had with the entire process to put in a port because IV’s were getting difficult, was getting the IV for the surgery in. 😀 My poor hand had to put up with two tries because the first ballooned. Nothing new, right?

Surgery complete, recovery went well, except my nurse asked whether Denny was angry because he was so solemn, so I explained he gets worried about me, and I’m the one making jokes throughout the whole process. FORTUNATELY, everything is covered up so I can’t see the needle… YAY!!! This makes me happy because what I don’t see doesn’t bother me. The bandage is a little extreme though. I feel like I have a combination of half a football pad and half a neck brace on.

I literally have to turn my body when looking to the left, down is easy, but up pulls. This is caused by the tape on my neck. I figure tonight while I sleep, the tape will pop and in the morning I’ll adjust it to be more comfortable for the next few days. I had to laugh because the first thing I did was pop the tape while getting dressed. That’s when they went tape crazy… trying to keep it from popping when I lifted my arms, they added gauze and tape.

Normally, I’d take a little more time to explain my day, but I came home and went straight to work for the day job because my colleague was having a surgery this afternoon and someone needed to be there. And I am so close to the end of my first round edits, nothing, not even surgery, takes precedence. I will be finished (tonight if I can last)

Oh, I now have a little key chain do-dad explaining the port to carry with me at all times. I have the Power Pack—a fitting name. The picture at the top was chosen because it is gorgeous, dramatic clouds with sunshine bursting through. A perfect picture for the day.

Off to finish my edits. 😀

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Jan. 06.

Next Step Surgery

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (8)
Novgorod Kremlin

Novgorod Kremlin

My Status: Tired
Mood: Cheery

I haven’t posted for a while because of the holidays, but now that they are past, it’s time to give you the latest updates. I saw my doc on the 30th and she gave me a prescription for the port catheter so we won’t be hunting for a “good” vein anymore to use for chemo. I saw the surgeon today and the surgery is set for Thursday morning, bright and early. The doc had requested the port be put in on Monday, the 13th, but the surgeon overrode her decision because he felt I’d be too prone to infection if we attempted to use the port on the 14th.

I’m actually pretty good with all of it, except one phrase skeeves me out. It is even on the prescription … “leave the needle in.” To someone who is mildly needle phobic, this phrase turns my stomach. So now I have to wrap my mind around the fact that I will have a needle in me from Thursday through at least Tuesday. It’s going to take ALL of my skills in NOT thinking about it to get me through.

But, just in case, someone better have several choruses of Soft Kitty ready to talk me off the ledge. I’ll be fine if I don’t think about it … so I’d better stop now, or total freak out will ensue. Believe it or not, I have always been very good about receiving shots and giving blood, but horrible with seeing the actual needle. Oh well. *conjures up visions of rainbows and unicorns*

Over the holidays, I managed to find my writing mojo again, and have finished the draft of One-Way Ticket, the fourth book in the Misfit McCabe series. I’m so excited about finishing up this book, words fail me. I can’t wait until you have a chance to meet the characters between the covers. Although I don’t normally jump right into edits, there was enough time between writing the bulk of the book and finishing it, so I’m in the middle of first round edits and things are going very well. And I’m busting to get back to the edits so I can get some feedback and polish it up and make it even shinier than it was before.

The picture at the top of this post was chosen for two reasons … a nod to the weather some of my friends across the country are experiencing while we are baking in Southern California during the day. And the Kremlin a nod to my friend, Jane Kindred and her love of Russia, and the release of her latest book, Prince of Tricks. Jane is having a book launch party tomorrow (1/7/14), so stop by and party virtually for a chance to win some swag.

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Dec. 19.

Cycle 2, Day 3 – Hydration

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (0)

My Status: Feeling okay
Mood: Good mood in progress

Today was pretty smooth, only 4 hours (supposedly 3 hours per my scheduled times, but we’ve had to throw the general time frames out with me). Nothing but hydration and the injection to boost my white cell counts. The injection is to help boost my immune system and hopefully keep me from getting sick after the treatments. But I have to watch for any sort of reaction, especially after this round of chemo, because it could cause difficulty breathing, flu-like symptoms, etc. So for the next couple days, I have to monitor my temperature and call in if it goes above 99F. And since some of the symptoms of an allergic reaction are the same as what I’m already experiencing from the reaction on Tuesday—puffy face and eyes, mild shortness of breath, etc.—it may be a bit difficult to distinguish whether the reaction is still residual or coming on for a bit. I’ll get it figured out. And I did do well with the injection the last cycle.

The worst of it should be joint and bone pain, and here’s hoping the knee doesn’t blow up again. I don’t want that to look forward to each time I go through a chemo cycle. Especially since the way to control the knee pain causes issues with my liver. Speaking of the liver, as soon as I can get some, I’m going to try drinking at least a cup of dandelion tea each day. Dandelion tea is supposed to help increase liver function, and I have okay’d its use with my doc. I certainly don’t want to do anything that will hinder this process, so everything, down to herbal remedies will be confirmed before consumed.

As with the last cycle, by the time I hit this morning, I was carrying approximately 7 extra pounds of water weight. The water retention because of the steroids is going to be an ongoing battle. I am doing my part by drinking as much fluids as I can … alternating tea and water. Each day during the chemo, I drank a huge thermos full of tea and at least one 17 oz. bottle of water. The longer I was in the chair, the more water I drank.

This cycle I have noticed a definite difference in my energy levels. I’ll be going along fine, and then I’ll hit the wall, and when the wall is hit there is NO keeping my eyes open. I have to lay down before I fall down. Part of that is likely due to the reaction to the drug on Tuesday, at least I’m hoping so. I normally am the sort of person to want to power through dips in energy, but I am listening (as if I had a choice this time) and getting the rest when I need it. Fortunately, an hour does the trick to rejuvenate and I’m ready to roll again for a few hours.

I don’t have my schedule yet for January, so we’ll have to sit tight for another week or so to know when that’s happening, and I’ll have to go in right before hand to have the port to put in to make things a little easier for everyone with my small, deep, slippery veins. One woman in with me today had similar issues with her veins, and the port was suggested, but she declined. She’s on her (hopefully) last chemo cycle and didn’t want to go through it. But for me, with still two-thirds of the way to go, it simply makes sense.

The picture at the top was a seasonal snowflake in honor of hydration day, plus I thought the color was fabulous.

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Dec. 18.

Cycle 2, Day 2 – Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (4)
Christmas Candles

Christmas Candles

My Status: Tired
Mood: Doing better

Another long one today, although we did manage to skip the whole allergic reaction thing. That is a huge positive. But because of the allergic reaction yesterday, the decision was made to run today’s chemo at a much slower pace to ensure there were no difficulties. End result was the chemo that should have taken approximately 3 hours took nearly 6. Another day eaten by chemo.

By the time I returned home, I was tired. Unable to keep my eyes open tired. I had a small bite to eat to keep the nausea at bay, and then crawled between the sheets. I dozed, but did not fall into a deep sleep. So guess who will be taking a sleeping pill again tonight??? If I can’t sleep when I’m that exhausted, then it is a necessity to get enough rest to handle the next day. The plan at the moment is to finish this post, have some tea, and hopefully zonk out for the night.

The after effects of the allergic reaction so far have been the headache last night, which was coming back on earlier this evening, but I’ve got it back under control, a bit of a sore throat, water retention, puffy eyes, congestion, and getting winded climbing the stairs. With the severity of the reaction, I count myself lucky. And strangely, this morning it was difficult to raise my left arm above my head. The chemo was in the right arm yesterday, so this seems a bit strange to me. Anyway, overall, doing well.

The candles at the top of the post are my symbol for hope. They are burning bright, keeping vigil, and signify tomorrow will be an even brighter day. Hydration should go well. One additional hurdle is that we are already having difficulty in getting good veins to put the drips in. So before the next chemo cycle I will go have a port put in, and the stress on my arms will be reduced for the remainder of my treatments. Easier for the chemo nurses, and easier for me. Win-win at its best.

And that’s it for today. Nothing much to say because everything went well, albeit slow.

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Nov. 28.

Being Curly and Blessed

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (7)

My Status: Feeling Good
Mood: Fabulous

BushWomanThis may be a short post (but knowing me, it won’t be 😀 ) A few days ago, I talked about getting my hair chopped off because it has become quite bushy and out of control, and for those who have not yet met me in person, I have a ton of hair. I have been waiting to get it cut because I needed to know whether I was going to add pink to it … and since I won’t be, I decided it could all get cut off and then I’ll grow it out again. This picture doesn’t quite do it justice as far as showing the out-of-controlness that has taken over my head. For once it was behaving, but it does show some of the waves I have in my hair, as well as the fact that I take terrible pictures of myself. Oh, you can also see my puffy eyes—my eyes are small, but they are not that small. Allergies have been trying to take up residence and I am battling them back as best I can. They are NOT welcome here.

 

CurlySueThe picture at the top of this piece speaks to me about the leaves of change. The fall has always been an exciting time of change. And this fall has been no different. The old things fall away to make room for those things new. For me, the cutting of my hair is symbolic of the changes going on. I needed at the very least a trim, but the idea to go short took hold for several reasons. The root of which is that I do like to do different things with my hair, and since it’s not the best idea to color it for awhile, I wanted to do something, and going short gives me a different versatility than when shoulder length or to my waist. And here’s the best thing of all … it’ll grow back if I want it to. My hair is a change I can control (or at least have the illusion of control) when right now so many things in my body are not within my control. AND it was a blast getting it cut. If I can’t have fun with this, then what is the point?

The stylist knew I had a strong wave in my hair, but she was surprised by the amount of curl that came out. She had so much fun playing with it while cutting it. I’ve dealt with it’s stubborn curliness for too many years to be surprised. Wearing it long does help to tame it a bit, so now it’ll have the chance to live life on the wild side. 🙂 And believe it or not, the long hair helped to hide some of the eye puffiness. (I should not be allowed to try taking self-portraits, but I wanted to post the before and after pics)

All in all, it was a good day. I worked this morning and accomplished a few things… always good. Then I had my hair cut and picked up the girls (my dogs, Phoenix and Elsa) from the groomers. Next Denny and I watched REDS 2 and laughed throughout. I have made the sweet potatoes (my contribution to tomorrow’s feast) and my mother arrived safely at her destination despite holiday traffic and suspect weather forecasts.

It is now Thanksgiving … and I have so MUCH to be thankful for, so here goes. I’m Thankful for:

  • My family—I love them so much and they are there for me when I need them. From immediate to extended, I do count on them. And my pups are always there for me (and a part of my family) and when I’m down, they curl up beside me and I feel better.
  • Friends—I have been blessed in the friends I have. I marvel almost every day over the people in my life and how supportive and caring they are. I hope I am as good a friend to them.
  • The writing community—although I count so many of you as friends, I wanted to express my thankfulness for having a community I can reach out to when celebrating the good things, and to help me over the stump when things aren’t going as well. For the most part, I see writers helping writers, and I love that.
  • My Characters—Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am … a little off-center, but they help me tell the stories that will have an impact.
  • My day job—I am thankful to have a workplace and work that fulfills me in addition to allowing me to earn a paycheck. It helps me so much, especially right now, to have a job to focus on when I can’t focus on other things.
  • My doctors—They will see me through this bump in the road and help make me stronger on the other side of it.
  • For Chemotherapy—While it may make me feel sick, I am so thankful science has developed drugs that will help my sick body become better. Several years ago this would not have been possible. In fact, several years ago, I wouldn’t have even known I was sick and we wouldn’t know that something needed to be done. I’d just continue to feel unwell and that something was vaguely wrong.
  • For being alive—I have always been thankful for each and every day I’ve been given. Most days are good ones, and as long as I can say that, I will continue to feel blessed.

There are so many more things I’m thankful for, but I simply cannot list them all. I have been blessed by all I have been given and hope that I pass those blessings along to others. That is my goal in life.

HappyThanksgiving

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Nov. 16.

Day of Rest

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (2)

My Status: Rested
Mood: Good

Sleep has been accomplished. And not only the drugged variety, which was interrupted by several trips during the night to excrete the extra fluids I’ve been carrying around, but this afternoon I had a honest-to-goodness, natural sleep, nap. Too much information? As I mentioned in my first post: My aim is to share my experiences with you, good, bad, horrid, and laughable.

Why would I share so much? For a few reasons:

  • Because it helps me to get it out. And this is the number one reason.
  • This is a journey and while it may be primarily MY journey, I am not on it alone.
  • Cancer used to be a word which was whispered from one person to the next, something to fear. It is far too common and affects too many people for us to continue whispering the word, but we still treat the symptoms, treatments, and journey with the same fear. Maybe by talking about all the issues we can move to a realm where we can freely discuss what is happening without that sense of awe and fear.
    • And this cycles back up to the first and second points for me. If I don’t feel free to discuss the gritty details, then I am isolated in my journey. I feel cut off from my support network, and brings everyone else along on a false journey.
  • As my dad used to say, “Life isn’t all peaches and cream.“
  • By talking about that which causes fear, lessens the fear and gives us back a measure of control (however illusive)
  • And because I’m not much one for orthodox conventions. Sue me.

A common misconception is that the patient is travelling down the road toward health on their own. This couldn’t be further from the truth. This diagnosis, this journey, impacts not only me, but anyone who cares about me. We all bring our own backgrounds to the particular issue—in this case, Leukemia/Lymphoma + bad guy abnormalities = chemotherapy. While I am the one who is getting bruised, and has had the drips going into me, I am not the only one dealing with the diagnosis. Denny, although he will not admit it to me, is struggling with the diagnosis, and the reality of what I’m going through. Things have not been bad so far, which is fantastic, but he’s worried about what might lie ahead.

Everyone wants to do something to help. It is a natural, communal instinct. When you hear someone has trouble, you want to reach out and help those in need. The problem is that right now, there’s not a whole lot anyone can do for me. Except be there; sending prayers, good thoughts, good vibes, jokes, commiseration, reading these posts, commenting, etc. (Please don’t stop.)

Right now the posts have been primarily focused on those gritty details, but I’m sure I’ll break into other types of posts along the way … I’m a writer, and what affects me affects my characters, so I’m sure there will be a post or two about that in the not too distant future. I haven’t accomplished a lot of writing this week, but I’m okay with that as well. I know when I need it to be my focus, it will be there for me, taking me away from some of the reality.

Triumph of the day: Due to the aforementioned interruptions to sleep last night, I have lost 6 lbs of the water weight which had piled on due to the steroids. YAY!!! for accomplishments. I am still carrying excess water (which is immediately evident when I remove my compression glove—the line hangs around for a few hours), but that the water is making an effort to leave cheers me up. I thought I might be headed into nauseous country this morning, but thanks to my friend Mindy, I took her advice and took the nausea medication BEFORE there was an issue, and ultimately have remained nausea free for the remainder of the day. BOO-YA for the little things. I did have the after-white-cell-boosting fever, but it has now dissipated along with the headache it brought along for the ride. Fortunately, it didn’t exceed the mark where I needed to call anyone about it, so rest, fluids, and eating slowly has prevailed to make this day a good one. My head is still not up to writing, but that’s okay… there is always tomorrow, and with what I hope is another good night sleep, the words will start to flow.

The picture at the top of this post symbolizes how I feel about finally getting sleep. Rainbows have always been very special to me … because they’re rainbows and all colorful and sparkly. An awesome refraction of light. They are the promise of good things ahead.

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Nov. 13.

Chemo Cycle 1, Day 2

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (4)

WhereIsShe

My Status: Overall good day.
Mood: Cheerful 😀

Apparently this cycle of chemo treatment is going to have the theme of bump in the road followed by a successful treatment where I’m still dealing with it fine. The bump in the road is characterized by the picture for this piece. And anyone who knows my family has NO trouble identifying the she in the graphic.

My mother is one of the most wonderful people on this planet, and she has so many special talents, she shares her gifts with all, has the most amazing heart, but one thing she was born completely without—a sense of time. I love her to death and beyond, but have accepted for many years, the area where she will not come through consistently is being somewhere on time. She sets off with the best intentions in the world, but … sometimes it stays at intention.

The plan for this week was that mom would provide the chemo treatment limo service because hubs didn’t know whether he’d be working or not. The plan for this morning was that we leave my place at 9:00 because my appointment was for 10:00 at the doctor’s other facility, which is farther from my house, and it would be the first time travelling there. Plus, right now there is surface street construction ongoing everywhere, as well as freeway construction, so leaving a little padding (and I mean little) on the time was wise.

The problem? 9:00 arrives and no mom. Not unusual … 9:05—same status … 9:10—same. I’m beginning to get concerned, because my mom is usually pretty good about letting me know when she leaves, so I have an approximate arrival time, and she hadn’t called. She has also not been in the best health herself and said she had been sleeping through her alarm. The home phone is not sufficient to wake her if that is the case (and her message box was full so leaving a message was not possible) and her cell phone is safely in its box on the pool table in the family room, where she will also not hear it if it rings. My concern at that point was not whether I would make it to my appointment on time, but whether she was okay. Because fortunately, I did have a back up plan in place, and standing right next to me. Hubs did not get scheduled for today, so he was ready, willing, and able to take me to the appointment (and I put all my appointments in his phone last night so he’d get the reminders. 🙂 )

At 9:20 I left a message for my mom on her cell because I knew if we didn’t leave then, we’d be late for my appointment. Mom called having reached our place at about 9:30. She had been having a few issues which delayed her departure (not uncommon), but had we waited and had she driven, I’d have been about half an hour late. I drove us to the appointment (I drive faster), on the freeway, in the car pool lane (which she usually won’t drive) and we managed to make it and find the building, arriving smack on time. YAY for small successes.

MissedBruiseNext minor and not unanticipated bump in the chemo road? Not able to get the vein. I always explain upfront to all people who draw my blood, try to insert a drip, etc. that what they are looking at is not necessarily what is going to work. I have small, squirrelly veins. Which means they are small, so a challenge right off, the squirrelly means that now you see it, now you don’t, and to make matters worse, they collapse easily. I also tell the technician/nurse to take their time up front, because that usually means a better chance of success. And I have met with arrogance to my statements, like somehow a lifetime of having people miss the vein will somehow not be the case when they do the sticking. As long as the person listens and gives it their best try, I don’t have a problem with an occasional miss. It happens to everyone—even my regular doctor who has a perfect record, except for once, and he has drawn my blood countless times over the years. The picture you see is what happened today. Yes, this is after it has been iced.

I don’t blame my chemo nurse. She listened, she communicated that she understood exactly what I meant as she took her time trying to find a good candidate—especially when one she thought was going to do just fine suddenly disappeared on her, and it was prior to the stick (thank goodness). And technically the bruise is not from a “miss”. She got the vein. The problem was that the vein was not cooperating with allowing the drip to move on through. It bubbled. It bulged. The drip was quickly turned off and the doctor happened to walk past in the hall, so I made a joke about her having it notated in my chart challenging. 🙂 She came in and took a look and said she’d do it and put it in the back of my right hand after a brief discussion (from the peanut gallery = me) about keeping the drip lines out of the way so I could work on my laptop, and the fact that my compression glove wouldn’t work as well with the drip in the way. After reminding me of the priorities (I said laptop, of course #joking), we got everything switched over with only one minor hiccough where the vein, which had stopped feeding back blood, decided to start pumping it out.

I may have turned a slight shade of green at that point. I don’t do well with blood. If someone is hurt and I have to react to take care of the situation, I’m fine until the situation is over, then get queasy. But in this case, I couldn’t do anything to stop it, so queasy hit me pretty quickly. But once they got it out and the pillow case changed, I was fine. I’ll be wearing the battle scar for a few days. But as I said, this was not an unanticipated bump.

The remainder of the visit was uneventful. Hubs was able to come back and sit with me for the entire time, because it was a slow day and there weren’t any other patients scheduled for chemo while I was there. We were able to leave, half an hour earlier than anticipated, I had a little lunch, and took a nice nap in the afternoon. The nap was necessary because I had an interrupted sleep due to my first bout of chemo diarrhea, which was not all that bad, but did have me up a few times.

One thing I wanted to say, and I mean this from the heart. I am very early in my journey still, and I know that things will not always be going as smoothly as they have so far, but I couldn’t ask for a better set of cheerleaders along my way. You guys rock!!!! Your support through this time means more than I can say, because no matter how alone I am, I know you are at the other end of the keyboard and are there for me every step along the way.

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Nov. 12.

Chemo Cycle 1, Day 1

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (4)

My Status: Overall good day.
Mood: Cheerful 😀

Today started off after an unusual, but completely welcomed, good night sleep—only to be followed by the first bump in the journey. I’ll talk about the bump after the chemo update, but suffice it to say that it rocked me harder than I expected.

Onto the chemo experience. The first cocktail I had was Rituxan, and being me, I had already thrown the doc a curve-ball before the first drop hit my system. You see, standard practice with Rituxan is to have Benadryl standing by, in case the patient has an allergic reaction to it. So what’s the curve-ball?? I’m allergic to Benadryl. 🙂

I am the first patient for my doc in the 12 years Rituxan has been available who has not been able to accept Benadryl in response to an allergic reaction. The doc decided with my respiratory system issues and the number of allergies I do have, it would be best to give me a steroid along with the Rituxan treatment, and she slowed it down initially so she could more closely monitor in case of a reaction. So my treatment was longer than the anticipated 6 hours, but that’s okay by me. I’d rather they went slower to make sure I wouldn’t have a major reaction than to proceed at the normal pace only to have to get the ambulance to carry me next door to the hospital.

I was actually able to do a little work on the WIP while I was having the treatment, but I had to keep taking my headphones out when the doc would come in to check on me, or the chemo nurse, etc. and then I’d get distracted by Facebook (ooh the shiny) or having conversations with people. But progress is progress. I caused the doctor some concern when I was telling Denny (the hubs) that I brought a blanket as recommended because I might get cold, but I was sweating. The doc thought I might be having a reaction to the chemo, but I run hot, and had just plugged in my laptop because the battery was down to about 20% and had both a hot laptop and a hot power supply sitting on me. I told her I could stop the sweating and lifted the laptop in the air. **Magic**

I’m not really sure how the rest of the journey will go, but right now, my laptop is the most important thing to have with me, after something to drink (and I say that grudgingly only because keeping the fluids up should be the most important thing, but—shhhhh, the laptop secretly wins with me every time.)

That was pretty much it… I was the most active of the patients in the room … I kept going walkabout—mainly to use the facilities. I loved listening to the other people in the room as well. Like the lady who was brought in by her sweetheart from junior high … they got married out of high school and had been together ever since. I think she said they had been married for 56 years. And the lady who came to pick up her husband had come to the United States from Japan in 1956 … and her husband says, I think she’s going to stay here…

About the morning bump in the road … it boils down to communication or how we’re dealing with the situation … and the we in this case is my husband and I. He jumped in the shower shortly after we woke up this morning, and I thought he was getting it out of the way while I was trying to choke down something to eat (morning eating has not been kind to me of late). Then he came in and announced he was going into work to resolve some pay problems and ask whether they had anything for him work wise, as he is a rover and hadn’t been fully scheduled for this week. My response was along the lines of You’re leaving??? and then the volatile nature of me kicked in and I said, Fine! Just go!!

Dear husbands, partners, and significant others everywhere – the words Fine. Just go. translated from their subtext mean Buddy, you’d better stick around and explain what kind of crap you just pulled/said, because you have PISSED me OFF! After seventeen years of marriage, my husband still doesn’t understand the subtext, so he left.

I had a brief meltdown. My first for this journey, but I’m sure not my last. While I have gone through this entire process so far pretty prosaically, it rocked me hard to feel abandoned before the first treatment. My thoughts were along the lines of if he can’t even be there for me for the treatments, how am I going to survive the next six months?? I know he’s scared—more than I am, truth be told. Sometimes it is harder being the one not going through the process. And yes, I know he wants to bolt and come back when this is all over, but I was unprepared for how bereft it would make me feel when he did run. Because I fully expected him to run (briefly) at some point, just not this early.

Before you start a hate campaign against him, let me explain why I said the problem here was communication/dealing with the situation. Also he did come and sit with my mom through most of the day, came back and put my slippers on when I needed them, and checked on me throughout the treatment and left a little early to go pick up some medications I hadn’t had a chance to pick up. He left this morning because he had completely blocked out the fact that I was still home because today was my first day of chemo. And I had no idea he had blocked it out because I was still home and preparing to go to my first day of chemo. Remember when I said he is more frightened than I am. That is the truth and he is suppressing all of his emotions to the point that he has turned blinders on about the whole thing.

Before he told me he completely forgot, that idea would have been incomprehensible to me. This is the man who can tell you a baseball stat for the Titans from 2004 without having to pause to think about it. It’s the man who can tell you the anniversary of our first date, first kiss, proposal date, and the list goes on … none of these things can I tell you (I’m lucky to get the anniversary date right—and that has been since the very beginning … I requested time off for the honeymoon for the wrong month.) So the fact that he had suppressed what was about to happen so deeply that he had “forgotten” it, never occurred to me. I know it is possible, and it is not outside the realm of normal when it comes to a huge (negative) life event for someone you care about more than yourself. Your brain blocks it out because you can’t deal with it yet. And he certainly didn’t know he was going to have an issue with it—because his brain blocked it out.

Tomorrow morning I’ll know to remind him about the appointment. And once I post this, I’ll add my list of appointments for the next two months into his phone. Lesson learned: Don’t assume he won’t block things out.

I love the picture at the top of the post because it really symbolizes this day for me. The sun rising (new adventure) over rippling seas (a few bumps, but not too bad) and casting glorious colors to help light our way.

Oh—almost forgot… no nausea yet, and I was able to eat when I got home and am having a nice cup of warm tea. Life is good.

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Nov. 10.

The Change in Diagnosis

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Good Day |
Comments (4)
© MumblyJoe

© MumblyJoe

I doubt I will posting quite this often once we get into things, but I figured I should probably get this one out while I still had a few minutes before lastminuteitis sets in and I’m running all over the place trying to remember all the stuff I need to get done. Because tomorrow that will be me… without a doubt. The photo sets the right mood. I know the storm is coming in, but way in the distance, there is the glimmer of light and hope. I have my focal point—and you may need to remind me where it is from time to time—but we have a goal and a time when we will cross the finish line.

To answer some of the questions I’ve been fielding from all quarters, no, the change in diagnosis was not a shock. I’ve needed a hair cut and color for several months now, but haven’t had it done. Not because I haven’t had time, but because if I had to go through chemo, then the fewer chemicals on my head, the better. As many of you know, I do dye a portion of my hair pink, but it just didn’t seem like a good idea until I heard the final test results and the words, “no treatment necessary”. So it’s a good thing I didn’t dye my hair. The reason I didn’t was that in the back of my mind I felt as if chemo was a real possibility.

Why did I think I might be going through chemo when all the test results up until Thursday were clear (with the exception of CLL/SLL which I wasn’t going to worry about for several years)? *sigh* Because my fatigue has been too great, I have struggled lately with eating, and I have muscle cramps which are too frequent and too severe to be attributed to CLL early stages only. I have also been bruising from no impact, deep purply-black bruises which look like I’ve been scrubbed on by a toddler with a Magic Marker. These things are not normal. Something was wrong.

In a sense, the diagnosis is somewhat of a relief. If there weren’t these abnormalities running around in my system causing me to feel like a cat dragged backward through a knothole, then I’d have been wondering how much more hellish the next stage would be if THIS was Stage 0. No, I haven’t mentioned much about how I’ve been feeling. I have curtailed my online shenanigans, and I have rested more often than I’m used to. Some days are simply better than others.

Today happened to be one of those better days, after the headache I woke up with went away. I was able to finish setting up this site. I didn’t have to take a nap. I only struggled eating lunch a little bit, and was able to go out to dinner to celebrate our 17th anniversary with my husband (our anniversary was the 9th). Dinner was a good meal. I didn’t choke or feel like the food stopped half way down—and compared to what I have been able to eat, I felt like I actually had a meal. Complete with dessert. It was nice to celebrate without feeling ill.

Today we will call a good day. And for now, it’s enough to keep me focused on the light.

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