Nuclear/Chemical War -- Loop restart

Nuclear/Chemical War -- Loop restart

I'm so sorry. I guess I forgot to keep a lot of people in the loop. I’ve heard this from 3 already. The first message was more an alert to key people and a request for prayer than an attempt to inform. “A large group of medical professionals has declared nuclear and chemical warfare against a terrorist invasion of my body. Please add this team, the girls and me to your prayer lists.”

Part of my excuse is that, during all those days and weeks of diagnostic testing, I was mostly loopy. Chemicals! Sometimes, it was the “dyes” but those “relaxers” stayed in my system for days, too. It seemed that, as I had nearly recovered from the loopiness of the most recent procedure, I was headed for another test. For weeks, I was dependent on Kendall, whom I called “my brain,” to keep track of everything the doctors, nurses and techs thought they were telling me.
The tests were very thorough. Diverticulitis diagnosed twice. On the second needle biopsy, they found that tumor they were convinced was lurking. The first biopsy had produced only dead cells. The PET scan was interesting only in that no one found anything -- not so with the brain scan. Of course, Kendall and I had told them we did not want to hear a “Nothing there” report about my brain. The bone scan looked good, the breathing test was a breeze. Being a Platt, I should have asked for a hearing test.

Now that I’ve gotten past the testing stage and can understand most of what I’m told and don’t need a wheelchair on exit, people expect me to know more and tell more. The problem for me is that I feel as if the reports I’m getting are mid-race reports and all I can say is, “The doctor is very encouraging about the pace of the race.”
The tumor is in the left lung and I'm getting nothing but glowing reports from the Radiologist. I asked him why, and on what he based, all this glow. One thing he said made sense. "People like to have the encouragement," he told me. The other thing he said that I understood was that he reads the daily x-rays. Everyone is a little puzzled that I'm not following the regular road. No side effects. I'll bet they're glad to see my hair go and know I'm not completely ignoring their list of side effects. I have tried to post a sign up sheet for side effects but I’m thought to be silly. I know not why so many feel that way. I remember having side effects for a friend some years ago.

Treatment has, now, fallen into a pattern, I can say I get radiation 5 days a week and chemotherapy one day a week. The first time I saw the oncologist, he set me up for a multiple dose of chemo and tried to warn me of side effects. Hair loss is the only symptom we’ve seen. My visit with the radiologist scheduled “markups” – the application of “permanent” Mr. Sharpy guidance marks, which, in turn, apply themselves to any clothing worn next to the skin. I spent a pile on shirts at the Salvation Army. Dark shirts don’t show the ink stains.

As to the pattern - - - Monday through Friday, I go to radiation therapy at 10 A.M. Since the 4th day, I’ve been reporting early for a pre-treatment shot, which is supposed to help with a predicted swallowing problem. This shot has alleviated a problem I’d been having the first 3 days but mine is a side effect the radiologists seem never to have encountered. Oh, well. This is not new to me. I took thyroid supplements for years because it controlled other problems.
I spend Thursday at the Cancer Care Center, treading the boards. I begin the day with a blood test which, because I've had a Port installed, I get in the chemo treatment room. Then, I get hooked up to chemo. When I'm in process, the chemo chicks call the nuclear crew who comes for me and rolls me over to radiation. After the Thursday radiation treatment, I see Dr. Yoon (Radiologist) and got back to chemo room to wait for the oncologist's crew to come and get me for my visit with him. All in all, this will save me lots of time because I can be in process rather than in waiting.

These days, I get more naps. Mondays are notoriously lazy days. I’m not sure why that’s true. The rest of life is quite normal. Expectations have not changed. People call to request that I “befriend” needy people without regard to my health problems and time constraints. Of course, I continue to critique the world as encountered and, last week, reported a phlebotomist who behaves as a mechanic. Even mechanics pay more attention and have more comments for the task before them. I suggested that she should be restrained or retrained. As we waited for the oncologist in the exam room, a woman appeared to ask about my complaint and went, immediately, to track and replace her staff member. Sullen staff are not allowed in the Cancer Care Center. And, isn’t that nice!

This Thursday was lots of fun. Paige came to town to oversee (or acquaint herself with) my routine. At the same time, her best friend was in from New York for the family 5-K birthday run with Dad. My new rule is “Never leave for an all-day hospital visit without planning a party.” Sherpas, Kendall and Paige, brought games and kept me on the trail. At the appropriate time, Sue brought lunch – a real spread. After lunch, I had a relaxing hand massage (Paige) and a manicure, courtesy of Sue. All this is much more fun than the knitting I drag with me. Lord Bless the girls.

I guess next week has possibilities, too. A woman we all met has planned to "save seats" so that we can chat -- and we ARE chatty. This could be a great thing. Finally, someone with whom I can stand as an equal. No counseling expected or needed.