Sittin On A Porch

Sittin On A Porch
Our little back porch

Monday, August 2, 2010

I am not panicking

My appointment is 3:30 Monday through Friday.  I park in the special cancer parking lot.  Yep, we get our own parking lot.  The lot you have to call to get them to open the gate to the , special parking lot.  See the little C has its perks.  And then I sign in at the front desk, and then go to the back desk and give them my name.  Then pass through the magic doors, change into one of those lovely fitting gown.  And really is an XL necessary?  I mean really I get them out of the small drawer and they are huge, gigantic,  enormous!  And then I sit in the special cancer waiting room until they call me to back.  And I have to initial this awful picture of me.  I mean really really worse then drivers license awful picture.  And then I lay down on the shiny metal table.  They do put a pillow under my knees and they shoot my chest.  Then comes the mask.  Well today when they were putting it on, it squished my nose in such a way that I could not breath well.  I can't open my mouth and I realized as I was laying there that I could not really breath all that well.  I thought about panic.  Yes, pure panic did pass in front of me.  But just that first taste of panic, with your heart pounding, adrenaline flying, no, I really don't like the feelings of stimulants.  So I raised my hand.  I can't tell you how calming it was just to raise my hand.  And in a second three therapist were there.  I waved at the mask, I can't talk.  And they were unbolting that mask and each click gave a little more relief.  And they pulled that mask off my head and all the hands were there, eyes on mine, concerned.  And I took a deep breath and felt fine.  Calm.   Peaceful.  Yes, I can do this!  I explained the situation of breathing and the mask.  They watched me.  I said I was ready and lets try it again.  They let out their breath.  And on came the mask, and click, click, click, click my head was bolted back on the table and no panic.  I could breath, the mask was back being my friend again.  ahhhh


On Mondays I meet with my radiologist oncologist.  I really like her.  I told her that my friends don't think that I am taking advantage of getting drugs.  My doctor agreed with them.  She looked at what I am taking and she says, "you aren't even on narcotics yet."  I said I know.  She said she does not want me in any pain.  I said I understand, and I am in pain, but not bad pain.  Not distracting pain.  She said, that she wanted me to consider something, because I should not have any pain.  I said I would think about it.  But I have reactions to so many drugs.  Some that area supposed to make you drowsy wire me out.  Antibiotics make me sick to the stomach.  I mean really really sick.  And so on.  So I hate to try to add in more pain medication when I am OK, but I will try and see if she can give me something.  If it doesn't work, I can always stop it and tell them it didn't work, but I have to say so far they have put together some very workable combinations.  


When we first met with Dr. Newman Mary and I both thought she had said it was my C6 vertebrate and then all of a sudden everyone was worried about the C7 and no one mentioned the C6 again.  So Dr. Newman told me today that it is the C7, but the C6 also has a spot on it,  so she is radiating both.


And then I picked up Christopher and he had fun at Space Camp and we came home and ate tacos, watched Phineas and Ferb travel around the world.  Got to love Phineas and Ferb!  And now time to sleep.  Three treatments down, still doing fine, 10 more!.  I can do this.

5 comments:

  1. I think your entire life has been preparing you for this time. And I can't tell you how much I wish it had not.
    But. Here we are and you are so sensible and you know what you need to do to ask for help. Raise your hand.
    Remember that, honey. Raise your hand.

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  2. I never have anything much to say, but I want you to know that I read every word and think about you all the time.

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  4. Hi Kathleen. I was petrified my first day of radiation. I had six weeks of radiation and then chemo and didn't think I could do it. So my husband helped me make a poster of a hill with a winding path from bottom to top where a cat sat under a tree. And he made little stops along the path, stars for radiation and moons for chemotherapy. When I got home from treatment, I'd fill in the date of the star or moon. Seeing myself climb the switchbacks on that hill cheered me everytime.

    You have a great outlook. It will go a long way in sustaining you through your journey.

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  5. I think that you can do it too. Hang in there.

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