Hi, Gentle Readers,
I was surprised to learn from a good friend of mine that my website wasn’t working. She thought I’d deleted it myself, but I assured her that I hadn’t. I had been receiving emails mentioning that the site hadn’t been performing backups the way it was supposed to, but I ignored them since I didn’t know how to deal with that, having never had that issue before. I thought I’d figure it out “later”.
However, when Katy wrote to say my site was down I thought, okay, this is the day we deal with it. I reluctantly asked Erica to look into it, which she did and now things are back to normal. There are probably much better and cheaper platforms for designing websites, but here we are. I threw some money at the problem and it went away. Phew.
Of course, this happened because I haven’t been paying too much attention to my website, so maybe I should explain that.
After my last post, where I revealed the bad news that I had stage 4 pancreatic cancer, I had every intention of keeping up semi-regular updates on my health and how it was going but this proved more challenging than I expected. I’ll give you a brief (if that’s possible) synopsis of the last two months.
My first chemo was on February 10th, exactly one month after I was diagnosed. In the early morning of February 12th I was whisked out of the house by ambulance because I couldn’t breathe and was hallucinating. I was soon diagnosed with pneumonia. It wasn’t exactly a response to the chemo, but somehow some bug got in and, with my white blood cell count dropping due to the chemo, it was inevitable that I would get very sick. I was so sick that I had to be intubated. My heart function dropped to 24%, I got pulmonary embolisms, they even think I might have had a small stroke. I was pretty close to death, but the amazing people at the MUHC brought me back to life. For four days I was intubated but they finally were able to remove the tube when my oxygen level improved (and other stuff too no doubt). Therefore, the side effects of the chemo were mixed up with the symptoms of pneumonia etc that I had and were in fact, so minor in comparison that I had no real sense of how bad they could be. Probably a good thing, at the time. I had a lot of catching-up to do.
I was discharged after 2.5 weeks and was very happy to be home, recuperating with my daughter, Erica, and husband, Dave, (and sometimes my son, Travis, who comes to stay whenever they can) helping me. I don’t know what I’d do without these three. They have my back at all times. In that way, I am SO lucky. I don’t know what other people do, who don’t have the kind of support I have. Also, friends and family have been incredibly helpful and supportive. Even after all this time, we’re still receiving messages, meals, flowers, etc on a regular basis. It’s incredibly touching. I have one delightful friend, whom I’ve known since childhood, who sends me snail mail cards periodically. She always has interesting observations about life to help distract me and lift me up.
Since that time I’ve undergone three more chemo sessions, and they haven’t been pretty. I’ve been told that this chemo (Folfirinox) is one of the harshest ones they use and it’s used primarily for the very cancer that I have. It has a pretty good track record, comparatively speaking, but it’s very difficult to manage. The side effects are brutal. They include: tender and sensitive skin inside the mouth, diarrhoea, constipation, acid reflux, loss of appetite, muscle cramps, difficulty swallowing, fatigue. I’m probably forgetting some. Oh, don’t forget, situational depression, which probably hits most people going through chemo.
My therapist, (provided by the Quebec government, btw) tells me that’s what I’m suffering from, no surprise there. I’m finding it very difficult to be the one who needs help. As a woman and a mother, my role has always been to nurture others, and I’m pretty comfortable with that. This is not comfortable. This is the exact opposite of that. Not only that, but when I’m so weak and vulnerable (especially during the first week after chemo) I start to believe I can’t do much, that this is going to last forever, and…down and down she goes. Luckily, my crew is around to lift me up and kick my butt. Meditation has been helpful too, but only when I think to do it!
I’ve tried starting this post at least five times but this might be the lucky try. I’m feeling better than I have for quite a while. Yesterday was an actual good day, despite having to go in very early for a heart stress test to see how my heart has recuperated since the pneumonia. Good news! My heart is pretty much back to normal. From an efficiency rate of 24% it’s now at 60-65%, which is actually what most people run on, though it doesn’t sound that great. My friend came with me to the appointment and we enjoyed lunch at the cafeteria, while waiting for the last part of the test. It felt so normal! It turned out the test was completely painless (no running on a treadmill thank goodness) and though it took a long time, it was mostly waiting around.
Okay, it’s time to sign off for now. I won’t go on too long because I may run out of steam at any moment and not be able to finish this. After the next two chemo treatments they will do a CTScan and see how the chemo is doing and decide what to do from there. I’ve been whining about how hard this chemo is, but I think they’re going to convince me to keep it up (at least for two more) if I can endure it, because it’s the one that works the best on this dastardly cancer. The docs have told me that my “blood tumour markers” have improved, so that’s encouraging. Every time I feel better and can eat a decent amount I suddenly feel that I can manage it, but when I’m in the middle of the worst of it, it seems impossible.
My friends, send out your positive vibes, your good wishes, your love, and any practical help you can think of, and I hope it will keep me going during the rest of this treatment. One day at a time, that’s the only way. Thank you for everything.
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