Tag Archives: water retention

Apr. 10.

Chemo Comes To An End

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Hallelujah |
Comments (8)

Balloons

***fires off confetti cannon***

I have not posted this chemo cycle like I have done the others … one post per day, because I didn’t want to post a series of DONE posts. Which at the moment is how I feel. DONE.

Done with the monthly trips to kill off the bad blood cells. Done with sitting in a chair for hours on end waiting for the drugs to drip into my system. Done with being a pack mule carrying all the stuff to keep me occupied during those hours. Done with feeling myself swell up like a balloon from water retention. And OH SO READY to get my life back to some semblance of normal.

But as much as I’d love to celebrate (and I will because what is each step forward on life’s journey without a bit of celebration) the END of cancer in my body, I cannot. I will celebrate the end of this round of chemo. I will patiently await for the results of the tests that will determine how effective the chemo has been at ridding me of the bad abnormalities they found in my blood system. But the truth of the matter is, however much I want to say done with cancer, it is not done with me.

This is step 2 along my journey with cancer at best (and may there be many more steps, because as long as I’m stepping, I’m living.) The types of cancer I have, chronic lymphocytic leukemia and small cell non Hodgkin’s lymphoma, are not curable (today), so I will be living with them for a while—may it be a long while. Fortunately, they, by themselves, are not aggressive, and can be managed mostly through monitoring my blood values. As long as I keep up with the monitoring we’ll know how things stand and I’ll be able to take my life back. If the counts get out of whack, then we’ll whack back with some drugs and put them back where they should be.

So for me, this is done with chemo, for now. I don’t know whether I will need chemo again in the future, so I don’t want to be categoric about never needing it again. I might. I don’t know. But for now, let the dance party begin. I am done with this cycle of chemo, and that is enough to celebrate. What happens in the future will happen. And I’ll deal with it, just as I have dealt with this episode. Head on, flinching only when necessary.

The truth is that in looking at the grand design of my life (that which I can see at any rate) since I had to go through chemo—this was good timing. Since I had to do it. I have kept busy. Things have been changing on the writing side of life for the better, and things are getting ready to break open there, so better now than later to be isolated from the rest of the world. I need my energy back because I have so much to accomplish … I’m ready to spread my wings and soar.

The balloons in the post header are for the celebration. It’s time to relaunch my life.

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Feb. 28.

Fatigued

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Musings |
Comments (2)

Yawn! That pretty much sums up this week for me. I’ve been tired every single day. This should have been the week my energy came bouncing back, but instead of bouncing, it hit the floor and played dead. Every day has left me bleary-eyed by 5 PM, and that’s with taking a lunchtime nap during the work day.

I realized a few days ago that I had been so tired I forgot to have my dandelion tea, which is probably why I’m still retaining excess water. I don’t know if it’s the changing weather or just that the chemo is hitting me harder this month … but I do know, I don’t like feeling this tired. I want to crawl into the castle in the picture and sleep for about a month. And at the same time, I want to get things accomplished. Not once in my entire life have I ever accomplished more than dreams and ideas while sleeping. Which by the way, I don’t want to give up the dreams and ideas, they help fuel my writing.

Not to go on and on whining about my tiredness, I have had some bright spots to my week. Even late this afternoon as my energy level was plunging, I figured out a possible solution for something in the day job, so I’ll be ready to tackle it and see whether I can make it a reality on Monday. I’ve been doing some research for my newest story and found out some important information about my main character this week. And, of course, the brightest spot to the week was signing with Italia Gandolfo of Gandolfo Helin Literary Management.

Other than being plum tuckered, I’m doing well. My blood values remain good, and I’m feeling well—except for the fatigue. Yesterday and today have been marginally better energy-wise, but tonight I may just lean back and stare at the ceiling for a while (otherwise known as pre-plotting) 😀 .

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Feb. 19.

The Blahs Hit

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Meh |
Comments (4)

The photo for today involves fog because right now I’m feeling a bit foggy. Today I was focused on the day job and got a lot accomplished. The problem is that when I was done with the day, I suddenly realized I wasn’t feeling all that great. Nauseous, tired, and completely unmotivated to work on anything—even this post. HA!

But then I realized one beautiful thing … I’ve been going through chemo for 4 months now, and tonight I’m more nauseous than I’ve been the entire time … and it’s manageable. I was able to have something to eat (nothing fancy, a helping of mashed potatoes) and I have not become one with the great porcelain bowl. And I’m starting to feel a tad better. Not great, but not as lousy as I was before.

I saw my doctor yesterday and she mildly chastised me for not sharing all my symptoms with her. (Ironically, yesterday I felt great.) And I told her my journey was so relatively light, I don’t really think of the negative symptoms as negative. Yes, after every chemo session I go through a few days of turning into a gas factory … I take the anti-nausea medications she prescribed and keep it in check. Yes, every treatment cycle means I’ll retain water like a camel and it takes a couple weeks to get back to normal. Yes, the injection to boost my white count gives me a headache and backaches, sometimes more severe than others, but these are known side effects, and none of it is beyond my ability to deal with. Yes, I get tired after the treatments, but I’m encouraged by how much better my energy is getting in between treatments.

So the bottom line is, I don’t talk about feeling poorly because I really haven’t had a bad time of it. I know many others who have had a much rougher time, so I feel blessed. But since I am not feeling the swiftest tonight, I am not working on things (other than this post) will probably watch a movie or read a little and get some rest. Oh, and I absolutely attribute my ability to stay well to keeping myself isolated most of the time, and being diligent about wearing a surgical mask when having to go out in public at any time.

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Feb. 12.

Cycle 4, Day 2 – Chemo

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

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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Jan. 17.

The Aftermath

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Meh |
Comments (2)

My Status: Headache-y
Mood: Cranky

Today what my body has been through in the last week caught up with me. Tired, headache I can’t seem to get rid of, and I’m retaining water like a camel. So I took it slow and easy this morning. I had an appointment with the surgeon for the port recheck today at 11:30, so I geared my morning toward prepping for that. My only problem with the recheck was finding the doctor’s office.

Once again, I didn’t get a confirmation call… and if I had, things might have gone a lot smoother because I might have questioned them when they told me to go to an office I’d never heard of. Not even thinking twice about it, I hopped in the car and went to the office I know… to be told when I walked in the door that I was at the wrong location. The receptionist handed me a card with the address, a place MUCH closer to my house, and off I went. Good thing I was early for the appointment at the wrong place, eh? I arrived at the “new” location and couldn’t find the suite on the card, so popped into the Urgent Care facility on the ground floor and asked. The receptionist there looked at me like I had two heads. So I asked for the doctor… OHHHH despite having 101 as the suite number on the card, he was upstairs… they didn’t tell me what suite, but gave me lousy directions “just up the stairs”.

By this time, my temper was frayed. The headache I had been trying to outrun came on full force, and I was NOT a happy camper. This is one of those times where I know my anger was disproportionate to the situation, but I also couldn’t change things. (Don’t worry, I didn’t behead anyone… I just kept stating over and over that I was NOT happy.) Fortunately, everything is good with the port, and I don’t have to go back unless there is a problem with it. And the drive home was short after having driven half the county earlier.

Knowing I wasn’t fit for any interactions with people, when I got home, I took a nap, hoping the headache would go away. No such luck. Of course, I’m way behind on getting fluids into me because I haven’t figured out how to sleep and drink at the same time. Pushing the fluids will ultimately help the head situation. I did ice it, so the edge has been dimmed, but still suffering with it. I am now drinking tea, and will try a little food before nausea kicks in, but I do have to say today has not been one of my favorites. I really could have done without the extra driving and the headache can leave any time.

The picture shows how I feel… being beaten by the forces of nature at the moment.

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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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Dec. 17.

Cycle 2, Day 1 Chemo

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Meh |
Comments (8)

My Status: Head-achy & slightly nauseous
Mood: Hanging in there

Today was long. Reeeeaaaallllly long. For a lot of reasons. Where do I start?

I’m going to start at the beginning of the day with the arrival of my in-laws half an hour early. Which I did anticipate them being a little early, just not half an hour. Okay, no problem, all I had to do was finish making my tea to take with for my chemo session—except my stress level is difficult to keep under control with them. They are the best-hearted people, and immediately insisted on being able to help once they knew I had to have chemo. I appreciate their willingness to drive me so much—I need someone to drive me. What I don’t need is my stress levels increasing, especially on a day when I was already a little stressed. I won’t go into the gritty details of the additional stress, suffice it to say I went from a slightly elevated stress level to through the roof. The reason my stress levels were elevated to begin with was that I didn’t know whether chemo would be a go today or not. Yesterday I went for my labs, but the test for the liver was done too late in the day to have the results same day and we wouldn’t know whether I’d even be able to have chemo until I arrived this morning.

We arrived early, and they took me back early, which ended up being a very good thing. Got the results. YAY!!! Chemotherapy was a go. I got myself settled, the pre-chemo cocktail all hooked in, and we were off. One the prep cocktail was done, we started the first chemo bag. I had brought movies, so was watching a movie and didn’t pay attention to when the bags were switched. But sometime between 10:30 and 10:45 I noticed labored breathing. I paused the movie and took a couple of deep breaths to see whether it would ease like it had the time before. My heart raced and it felt like something was pressing against my chest—hard. Not quite the elephant on the chest thing of a heart attack, but heavier than a two-year-old.

I knew this wasn’t right and it was getting worse quickly, so I told the chemo nurse I was having trouble breathing. She immediately turned off the drip and went for the doctor. They gave me a shot of something (not Benadryl—because I’m allergic to it) and the heaviness of the chest decreased, and after a few minutes the heart rate lessened. Apparently I was very flushed as well—even when I felt much more normal.

The decision was made to continue, but to give me chemo bag number 2 first, and then after I had gone through that one, we’d try chemo bag number 1 at a slower pace because I had handled it okay during Cycle 1. Normally Day 1 chemo of the cycle should last approximately 6 hours. We started this morning somewhere around 9:15 and it was after 6 PM by the time I was done. And THAT is a long time to be sitting in a chair with chemicals dripping into you.

The picture at the top of the post is because I feel as if I had a Christmas Angel sitting on my shoulder today. We were too close to making a hospital visit, and I am blessed to have a chemo nurse who reacted quickly and got things turned around as fast as she did. This also means I can count on the remainder of my Day 1 cycles being longer than the expected 6 hours. Hopefully not in the neighborhood of 9 hours, like today, but we will always need to start chemo bag 1 slowly and gradually increase to mitigate potential for the allergic reaction. Post chemo I have a blistering headache as a gift from the allergic reaction, I’m retaining water like a camel to the point where I can feel the swelling, and I have the after day 1 slight case of nausea. Tylenol has been taken for the headache, anti-nausea medication has been taken (and by the end of this post I’m feeling much better), and I have taken a sleeping pill to help counteract one of the prep cocktail drugs which causes me to not sleep well. I will have some tea and shortly (with any luck) sleep.

Oh, and the reason I need a driver? One of the drugs can cause confusion, as evidenced tonight when I reached into the back of the car we’ve had for 8 years and scrabbled around trying to find the door handle so I could put my things in the back seat. We only have two-door cars.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

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Nov. 24.

Venturing Out

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Musings |
Comments (10)

My Status: Feeling Relaxed
Mood: Amused

Today I actually ventured out of the house. Since having my treatments, I’ve pretty much been a hermit. Not intentionally, but my morning commute to work is now simply crossing the landing to my office, Denny has done the shopping so I wouldn’t have to be out and about with the general public, and so really there has been no reason for me to leave the house. Stir crazy? Not yet. (Give me time.)

But with the way my arms have been, I thought it’d be a good idea to get a massage, and there just happens to be a massage place about a block and a half from me. Convenient, isn’t it? Maybe not so much for the pocketbook, but we’ll see how things go. I’ve had several massages in the past, but one thing I have noticed … no massage therapist is ever the same. And this experience was no different. I did make sure, to the best of my ability, that the therapist did not have a cold before going in. The reason I said to the best of my ability is that the owner and therapist were Chinese with limited capacity for the English language and my Chinese is non-existent.

I will state up front, I don’t have modesty issues—and it’s a good thing. We started off the session, as normal, going into the room and the therapist indicating I was to lie on the table face-down. I mentioned I’d need a towel to place under my chest. For the uninitiated, I have big boobs, and lying on a flat table with no additional support to relieve the pressure hurts. It’s common practice and some therapists offer before I can ask. Today’s therapist nodded and grinned and left the room. I proceeded to undress.

This may be TMI, but when I disrobe for a massage, my preference is to go full Monty. It’s easier for the therapist not to have to work around under garments, and provides me with a better overall massage. I was on the table trying to figure out how to appropriately drape the small bath towel left on the table for the purpose when the knock came at the door. I said, “Just a moment,” and she barged into the room (sans the towel I had requested). Like I said … good thing I don’t have modesty issues. We got me settled and the massage began. Things were going well about half-way through the massage when I heard a new customer arrive. A few others had shown up after me, and all therapists were now engaged, and I heard the new person being told that very thing.

What blew my mind was that he argued that he really wanted a massage now and didn’t want to wait. And it was explained, again, that everyone was busy. Now this is a walk-in, not someone who had an appointment for a specific time. Grumbling, the guy settled down in the lobby area. Fast forward about five minutes. I’m still face-down on the table, half-draped while the therapist worked my entire right back side, from shoulder down to leg and the phone rang. My therapist left to answer the phone.

Leaving the Door. Wide. Open.

Yes, I peeked. Wide open to the hall. I’m draped on one side only (the side away from the door) and the guy from the lobby decides to start pacing the hall. I kept my head down and relaxed. There was nothing I could do except make the situation worse by getting up … and I don’t embarrass easily. So I listen to this guy pacing past my door on his cell phone, and he’s complaining again. “I’m here and have already been waiting for five minutes.”

I started to laugh. For all the world, it sounded as if this guy had decided to call them and make an appointment, for, oh yeah, right now. Coincidentally, he concluded his call, and my therapist returned to the room and continued my massage.

For all my writer friends, this scene is mine… ALL mine. It will go in a book somehow. I will make it happen.

The thing that this therapist did differently than any massage I had experienced (other than leaving the door wide open) was that she knelt on the backs of my legs and used her knees to massage the bottom parts of my glutes while using her hands to work the lower back and top of the glutes. It was an interesting technique. I may be wearing a few bruises (on my back) from the massage, but it was worth getting the knots out.

After my massage, I came home and took a 3 hour nap. Then was putzing around on the computer, chatting with a friend and getting some things posted, picking out the picture for this post, and I started to feel a bit nauseous. And realized the only thing I’d had in the past 9 hours was a 20 oz bottle of G2 (Gatorade light) which took me 3 hours to drink. No WONDER I was getting nauseous. That is one thing I have noticed, when my stomach hits empty, it is much easier for me to feel nauseous. Even if I only have a little something—solid—it helps.

The bout of nausea has been dealt with, and I am currently making up for lost liquid consumption. Especially having had a massage, I need to push fluids. Good thing I had that nap.

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Nov. 22.

How We Forget

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Musings |
Comments (13)

My Status: Feeling Good
Mood: Content

Last night I was finishing up some work stuff and trying to figure out what my evening would look like, when I smelled a waxy, unscented, burning candle-like smell coming from downstairs. Denny was downstairs puttering around in the kitchen getting ready for work (he worked graveyard last night). Next thing I know, Elsa (my little blonde pup) is upstairs, plumping both paws on my left leg, giving me the full pick me up treatment and panting hard. I told her no and gently pushed her paws aside. She then ran around to my right leg and repeated her performance. I again told her I wasn’t picking her up and asked what was wrong. Usually, she takes my no and curls up at my feet. Not to be denied, she squeezed past my legs onto the small desk shelf and crawled up my legs into my lap.

She was distraught and shaking, so I cuddled her for a few moments and set her down… she crawled into my lap again after running out to the landing to peer down the stairs. I couldn’t figure out what had her so excited and unnerved that she needed to be held.

Until Denny came up the stairs, rack from the toaster over in hand and said, “You know how you always tell me to put a plate under my food …” and showed me how the plastic plate had melted onto the rack. *sigh* He’s right, I have told him once or twice to make sure he puts a plate under whatever he’s heating up … in the microwave.

Why am I telling this story (other than the fact that it is funny and the house didn’t burn down)? It certainly isn’t to make fun of Denny for making a mistake. Or to point out how on the ball Elsa was in trying to alert me to something be wrong down below. The reason I am sharing this story is it so aptly illustrates how Denny is handling the journey with me through cancer and chemotherapy. As I mentioned before this journey is not mine, and mine alone. My health and well-being affects my family and friends, just as theirs affects me. Truthfully, Denny has been having a tougher time of things than I have. Forgetting things (like my 1st chemo appt.), being more tired, making mistakes he would never otherwise make. Like this one.

It’s not like heating things up in the toaster oven is a foreign activity for him. We use the toaster oven on a daily basis … and I mean we and not me. And yes, I recently had to remind him to put something under the food in the microwave—which he also already knows. So why is he so forgetful? Do I think he’s starting to go into early Alzheimer’s territory?

No. I don’t think dementia is setting in. I truly believe he is suffering from worrying too much about how things are going to go with me, and pushing those feelings down instead of talking about the fears. When you suppress so many feelings, and force yourself to be strong, there are negative side effects. He’s suppressing so much right now, he’s close to suppressing everything, so things that you know and take for granted that you know? Gone. One moment you know you need to take your keys to leave in your car… the next, you’re walking out the door without them. Why are you so forgetful? Because your mind is so occupied with keeping those things from you that you’re afraid to deal with or reveal.

I picture his mind much like the picture above. He will have a clear, almost sunny stretch, where lucid thought is easy, and he has his usual firm grasp on the essentials, but then something will trigger a thought about me, and the clouds come rolling in trying to bury the fears by hiding them in the mist. What are his fears? I can only guess. Fear that I will need more care than he feels capable of. Fear of losing me. Fear of my being in pain. In some ways, it is much easier to be the patient. I’ll deal with the hell when it comes, and I won’t be dealing with it alone. But Denny feels like he is alone in what he has to deal with. How can he possibly burden me with his fears? In some respects, he’s right. At the moment, I’d be able to deal with his fears just fine, but depending on how my journey continues, things may reach a point where I wouldn’t be able to help him deal with his fears. (And I’m hoping that won’t happen, and expect that it won’t—so far anyway.) But he’s not alone. And I hope to help him see that. BEFORE the house burns down. 😀

So how am I? Pretty good. Trying to get the sleep disruption under control. Still. Better night last night, but the night before that was pitiful. I have been taking the time not writing to do a little reading. Something I love and need to make more time for. I almost started writing last night. The characters (Tim and Tom) were willing and I had opened up the WIP (Work In Progress), but then I closed it. After getting better pain-wise, my right hand was hurting quite a bit after the full day’s work. The past few days have been a lot of coding work and I have not been wearing my compression glove because it was causing too much pain after removal. Which means I have to take extra care in not wearing out my hands with typing.

I tried to get a hair appointment for tomorrow to get my hair cut off (yes, I’m going short), but my stylist is getting over a cold, so the shearing will happen on Wednesday. Today is better pain wise, but I will also not work tonight for the same reason. By the end of the work day, my nerves in my hand, wrist, and forearm are tingling. Not only that… the tingles are migrating to the left. With the bloating and water retention and the little white cells running around and giving all the other blood cells the pep talk, it would sincerely be nice if my body would allow me a chance to write a little. I think my characters have settled down, and they are starting to talk to me again. But tonight, I will be good, and read.

Tomorrow—I write.

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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. 15.

On the Quest for Oblivion

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Musings |
Comments (2)

My Status: Tired
Mood: Relaxed

Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m tired today. I rested better last night than the night before, but sleep was still elusive. Fortunately, the issue with the prescription has been resolved, and shortly I will be floating in the fairy clouds pictured above enjoying a wonderful sleep.

Today marked my return to work—virtually. I have reconfigured my desk space in my office so I can work from home to minimize the possibility of infection, especially during the cold and flu season. There are a lot of reasons I feel that continuing to work as much as I can will be a good thing. First off, and most importantly, it will help me mentally to keep my spirits up. Things have changed, but I’m still able to do my job, so I can’t be THAT sick, right? I won’t bore everyone with all the other reasons … suffice it to say, there are reasons working right now is a positive thing. It does take a chunk out of my day, though. 😉

How are things going otherwise? Pretty well, I think. My right hand and forearm still hurt, and I’m still retaining water, but I’m hoping those things will dissipate now that I am not taking the steroid for a while. And I’m going to get this whole lack of sleep thing handled, so tomorrow should be good. I had one little issue though… yesterday they forgot to give me an injection to help boost my white cell counts. So I ran over during lunch and got the injection. And the injection has common side effects of making your bones ache, and you potentially run a fever, oh, and be alert for a severe allergic reaction… like if you can’t breathe, or pain that means your spleen is about to rupture but other than that, you’ll be fine. Apparently they took it seriously when I walked in and said, Okay, I’m here so you can torture me some more.. But *crosses fingers* so far, so good.

I don’t really have any more than that for tonight (and yes, I heard that collective sigh of relief) because I have things I want to talk about, but my brain is mush from being sleep-deprived, so we could travel into the realm of the ridiculous if I allowed my brain to lead the way here.

A big shout out to my sister, Dana for her birthday. I remember this day those years ago like it was yesterday. I knew someone special would be arriving, and I was right. Hope you had a great day.

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Nov. 14.

Chemo Cycle 1, Day 3 – Hydration

By Liana Gardner | Posted in Meh |
Comments (8)

My Status: Tired
Mood: Meh Meh

I’m just going to jump in and say, I didn’t sleep well last night. Not because of any other unpleasant side effects (because I really haven’t had many), but I just couldn’t sleep. So I was tired today. I am STILL tired, and yet, not sure I will be able to sleep tonight. Also my right arm hurts because I had to have the chemo in the back of the hand, and I am retaining water like I’m a camel. Pretty soon I’ll have a visible hump. And the sleeplessness and water retention are both due to the steroid given during the chemo to make sure I don’t have an adverse reaction.

Yippy, Skippy—the thing to stop me from having a reaction is causing the issues. Lucky me. And I mean that in the most sarcastic and joking way. I know the steroid stopped me from having a respiratory reaction to the chemo, because on day 1, I did have a slight tightening in the chest at one point—enough to make me think about alerting the doctor, but then the wheeze loosened, and there was no need. The drugs were doing what they were supposed to.

So the side effects of sleeplessness and water retention we can deal with. The only reason I’m a bit miffed at the moment is that I mentioned the need for a sleep aid when I came in, and the doctor had to leave early, so the other doctor wound up writing the prescription … and forgot to DATE it. The pharmacy cannot fill a prescription with no date and will have to contact the doctor—who left early because of a meeting, and will not be available. I’m exhausted, but the night ahead could be a long one. When I crawl into bed, I’m going to pretend I’m floating in the boat in the picture above, on a nice sunny day—the perfect temperature, with a slight breeze as the water gently laps against the boat and rocks me to sleep. With luck (too bad I don’t have a slug of rum) I’ll sleep.

The bruise on my left arm, which now by the way looks as if someone has put an eggplant cutting on my arm, it’s so nice and purply-black. doesn’t hurt one whit. On my right arm, where there is minimal bruising, I hurt. It hurts to extend my fingers to pick things up and reaching down to pick things up from the floor—forget it. Pain shoots up my arm. I’m sure the pain is linked to the water retention. I have gained two pounds each day and have eaten less, so the doc wants me to flush my system with plain water because I am sensitive to the sodium in the drugs they’re giving me. Tonight, that plain water has been mixed with tea and milk to help me relax and hopefully sleep. 🙂

Speaking of bruises, during the night I rolled over and my left hand simply flopped on my right arm and sent sharp radiating pain throughout my arm … sure enough, this morning I see the beginning of a bruise. My hand barely touched the arm. I just hit it at the wrong point.

Small veins caused me to be there longer than the expected 3 hour appointment again tonight. Probably half an hour later than anticipated. But that I don’t really mind so far. Now I should stop complaining and tell everyone what went right today. My mom misread the treatment schedule and thought the appointment was for noon instead of 2 PM. This meant she was early to pick me up instead of late. YAY for small favors, and knocking one worry out of the way. And hubs was able to track down some arnica to put on my bruise. He had to go to multiple places, but persevered until he found some, so he gets the gold star for the day.

 

GoldStar

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