Keeping on keeping on

At my oncologist visit on October 29th I got the news that the CT earlier in the week showed a brighter area at the base of my spine. That indicated that the cancer is waking up, the current med apparently losing some effectiveness.

As I shared in my previous post, I wasn't surprised. I'd been having more pain, especially in that area. That area hurts today but also hurts a little further up my spine. That's concerning.

Today has been especially painful—not just my spine but lots of muscle pains too. I'm guessing the weather change is intensifying pain. I'll find out more with the liquid biopsy at the end of the month follwed by a scan about 10 days later. (I gave more detail in my previous post).

Right after that new diagnosis I struggled emotionally for a bit. My poor sister had to put up with my being a jerk. I've never been one who could cry when I receive tough news. I have a stiff upper lip then. But later the emotion comes out in conjunction with something else, something that is NOT the real issue which is that I'm sad. And I'm scared of the cancer progression and all that that could mean.

I'm hoping to learn to feel the emotions directly and not indirectly in some convoluted way with an "issue" I subconsciusly create so that I can let some emotions out.

The first two or three days after learning the cancer is waking up I'd have flickers of sadness or fear. I'd try to let myself feel that, not analyze it or otherwise keep it at arm's length. I discovered several years ago that I use trying to understand, to analyze, as a way to feel as if I have some control.

But in this case I need to let myself feel whatever emotions come up. Feel the emotions and let them go. As a centering prayer leader many years ago pointed out, the word “emotion” has “motion” in it. Feelings are supposed to move. Not be stuck in one place.

After those first two or three days those pangs of fear and sadness have lessened. I’m finding enjoyment in daily life as well as “special” events like the times my sister and I went out to eat. Or when we drove around the Chickamauga Battlefield Park looking at the fall colors. Or when we watched a TV show we both enjoy.

The photo above was when I was by myself in the battlefield and wanted to get photos of the curvy wet road and fall colors. I’d parked at a pull off and gotten out of the car for a better angle. And a couple of deer decided to gift me with a road crossing, one at a time. And then one stopped and posed for me (as you see below).

Along with these deer gifts, though, I’ve had a trickster squirrel at work in my attic. I hired a wildlife service to catch it and take it far away to release. Well this particular squirrel evaded capture. The wildlife guy said he’d trapped and released a bunch of squirrels while “my” squirrel was like “NOPE” to the traps. The company sealed my attic and left an exit place for the squirrel. Early early one morning I heard the squirrel trying to get in its usual entry place. But it was unsuccessful. So this squirrel still lives nearby. Just not in my attic!

More trickster energy was connected with my with flu shot. I had waited until this oncologist visit to ask about fall vaccines like flu and Covid. She said to get the flu shot but to wait on the Covid one because it can cause swollen glands that might interfere with the info we need from the scan I have coming up. Maybe the liquid biopsy too? I’m not sure.

Anyhow I went last Sunday afternoon to get my flu shot. I wore a “nice” blouse and the thought did cross my mind, “What if blood gets on it?” But then I remembered that I had NEVER bled on any clothing after a shot. Ever.

Well I bet you can guess what happened.

The pharmacist gave me the shot, and I immediately felt a warm liquid run down my arm to the inside of my elbow. He hustled over and grabbed something and started wiping my arm while I was saying “Is that BLOOD??!”

Yep, and it bled for longer than I’d have expected. He commented that “a little” had gotten on my blouse. The “little” was a big spot of blood near my waist.

The lesson is that if you have a weird thought like “I shouldn’t wear this blouse in the very off chance that a flu shot makes me bleed” then DON’T WEAR IT. Luckily my sister was still here and did good internet research on how to get blood out of this particular fabric. And she got it all out. But really, who gets a shot and has blood RUN DOWN HER ARM??

The trickster energy was still at work when the time came for my sister to fly home on Friday. Over the years trickster energy has been strong when she travels to be with me, especially when she flies. Her flights have very often been delayed. At least two other times they were canceled.

Yes, I said two “other” times because (again, as you can guess) this one was ultimately canceled. So we got up at 4:15am on Saturday to get her to the airport. And she got home just fine.

Once again I’m so very grateful for her help and her loving presence in my life. And I’m so very grateful that her husband supports her (and me) in having her be away from him for two or three weeks at a time. He shows so much grace in being very flexible for her to be here for me when I need her.

I also had a couple of doctor appointments last week. The one with my palliative care doc was just discussion of how I’m feeling and whether any meds needs adjusting. Not right now. The palliative meds are working well. (It’s just the cancer-fighting one that’s not).

The other appointment was with the sleep doc. He gave me the results of the home sleep study. Rather than looking up the results (which I did NOT look at before seeing him because I can freak myself out unnecessarily because I don’t have the context) I’m going to give them by memory, which may or may not be exactly accurate. But it’s close.

When I had the same study in 2020 I stopped breathing just over two times a minute. This time I stopped eight times. The doc said that puts me in the “mild” sleep apnea category. My blood oxygen dropped to 88 percent for some of the time with the low at 82 percent.

So he recommends what he called a PAP machine (I always hear C-PAP but maybe it’s now just PAP??) I’m to get a call this week to go pick one up and choose a mask I think will work. Since I now only sleep on my back (after all of the surgeries I shifted from side sleeping to my back because it was too painful to turn over), wearing a mask shouldn’t be a problem.

At least I don’t think it will be. I look forward to feeling a lot more refreshed in the mornings.

And with these appointment reports I end my latest update...

...almost.

At this very moment I feel very comfortable and at ease. A Windham Hill station is playing calm music. We have early dark, which I actually enjoy.

I especially like this cozy time of year. And except for the extra pain, I like crisp, even cold, evenings.

Yes, I have a tough diagnosis and an unpredictable road ahead. I know there will be physical pain. I know there will be emotional pain. I know there will be hard days when I am super grouchy and not pleasant to be with.

And I know this ends in death.

It’s weird to type that. But it’s how each of us end our lives.

However I know this end isn’t that far away when I consider the length of my lifetime.

And right now at this moment that doesn’t scare me a lot.

Just some.

I mostly feel sad. For what I’ll miss. For what I won’t be a part of, at least not in this form.

Still I am grateful.

For the people I love. For the beauty of this life, this world.

For all that IS on this side of the veil.

Right now.

Because right now is what I have.