Thursday, May 30, 2013

Celebrating Life

May 30, 2011 - another early morning radiation treatment at the Utah Cancer Center...
May 30, 2012 - after major Whipple surgery and IV liquid food, first bite of REAL food (yummy grilled chicken) in 30 days...
May 30, 2013 - in between scans, just waiting - reading "The Light Between Oceans" in a quiet house with my puppy on my lap, showering late, no makeup, watching favorite movies ("Chocolat" and "This is it")...so far...
It's been an interesting year. No new surgeries, but introduction to the Infusion Center with the IPI treatments & iron infusions. Yep, this blasted cancer has kicked me to the curb a few times, but there is always an answer to beat it back. Continually fighting, whether it's shrinking tumors, gaining strength through exercise & physical therapy, eating, eating, eating, moving forward. LIVING with cancer, never dying from it. Dealing with stress, mostly financial, which I've come to realize ties me in knots and impedes healing as much as sun without sunscreen. Worry? Yes, always, because of my life-long weaknesses when it comes to money. Ugh. So frustrating. But with the anxiety comes the hope and desire to do better, be better, try harder...
So, I celebrate life with those I love: my good husband who works long days to give us a little more to pay those bills, my teenager who gives me support and a hand to hold and stories to make me laugh, my married kids who make me so proud of the good people they are & the families they are raising, my precious grands who brighten my days & shower me with hugs & smiles ("you know what I love? YOU!") and all my extended family. I do have to remember and remind others that I'm stronger than I look...I CAN do it & I WILL do it. I need encouragement, not "baby-ing", which makes me feel weaker... It's that worry gene in all of us & I understand and do it as much as anyone.
Just last week, our family celebrated the life of my precious Aunt Barbara. I miss her already. The computer was our lifeline to each other - she loved to send cards for all occasions through email, as well as encouraging thoughts. She remembered our special days & kept us in her heart and prayers. She always told us she loved us, sincerely & honestly. Celebrating life was her mission. Celebrating our individual lives was her passion & I always felt special reading her words. Love you, BAB...


Thursday, May 16, 2013

Stretching

Yesterday, I received my fitness "prescription" from theWellness Center and got to meet with Kim, another wonderful physical therapist.  I was a little apprehensive because I want to think I'm stronger and more able to do things than I really am.  I know this is all tailored just for me, but what if it's too hard from the get-go and I get too discouraged?  Kim put me at ease right away.  We were going to move slowly for the first few visits and get my muscles "fired up" again, reminding them what they're supposed to be doing.  I liked that.  I was also a little afraid of the treadmill, just because it was scary that I got so winded and frantic the last time I was there.  No worries again.  Kim let me pick what machine I wanted to warm up on, and I chose the bike-like machine where you pedal and move your arms opposite your legs.  It felt good to be moving and not too strenuous.  Just right.
We started out with stretches...and by the time my hour session was over, we had just barely finished the list of exercises for stretching!  We both laughed (I was thinking, "Really?  You mean there is more?"), but again, Kim assured me that as I learn the routine, the stretching time will go faster and I'll feel more confident moving on to the actual exercises. 
They are all so kind.  Last session and this session, it was one-on-one with me and the therapist and no one else.  That attention can't help but make you feel important and and worth their time and expertise.  I expect from here on out, there will be other patients on the machines with me, but that's okay, too.  We're all working for the same results--to be stronger and better able to handle whatever this demon cancer throws at us.  It's a good feeling to be doing something, even if it seems as if I'm hardly moving at all.  For instance, I had to do some leg lifts on a big padded table and I could barely get my right leg off the surface.  But Kim encouraged me, saying, "No, I see it moving!  You're doing great!"  Ha!  Someday soon I hope to be able to actually feel it moving as well.
I go again tomorrow and then twice a week through the rest of May (we'll work on scheduling June and July soon).  I did get a little shaky after, but I had my carton of protein drink on ice in the car and after I drank that, I felt better.  It's just new stuff and my body has become comfortable being sedentary, but now that the weather is behaving better, I want to get out and walk without wobbling.  Funny how our goals change!  Once upon a time, I could walk three miles in an hour--now I'd be lucky to do a third of that without collapsing. 
It was Mother's Day last Sunday.  I am so grateful for my own sweet mama, who was able to come home from the hospital Monday after having her colostomy reversal surgery.  I love her and her "hopefulness".  I love my precious children:  Aaron and Lindsey, Chelsea and Robby, and Janessa. They are very good people and I'm a proud mom.  And of course, my six (soon to be seven!) wonderful grandchildren are the light of my life.  They make me want to get up in the mornings.  Life goes on, some days are better than others, but the bottom line is that I'm living on love and prayers and hope.  It's a good life...



Saturday, May 4, 2013

From Weak to Strong

Yesterday, I had my appointment at the Wellness Center with Dr. Hansen.  I was so ready to begin this new phase of my well-being.  Lately, I have begun to feel much weaker and more fatigued, with weird symptoms that are affecting my every day life.  For one thing, my hands are tingly/numb, which makes it very hard to grip or type or write with a pen.  If you know me well, you know I love to write long-hand--everything from cards and letters to short stories.  And, as my family teases, that writing is done in "typewriter print."  Now, I can barely hold a heavy pen and it's hard to write legibly.  In fact, it looks horrible.  I don't like it at all.  It is also affecting my job--when you can't type accurately, it's frustrating.  So, I haven't been putting in the hours I would like with my wonderful job, which makes me feel guilty (for not helping more when they really need the transcriptionists) and powerless to contribute a few dollars to our expenses.  Another weird thing is that my legs and arms are much weaker than they were even a few months ago.  I'm back to the "days out of the hospital" feeling, which is not something I want to feel right now, if ever.  I'm not sleeping well either, blah blah blah.  Just done with feeling this way...

The appointment went very well, for the most part.  My few minutes with Dr. Hansen was informative, as she went over my health questionnaire.  I also liked the physical therapist, who was very kind and gentle.  They took my vitals (once again, my blood pressure was very low--really need to talk to Dr. Beckstead about stopping my Losartan or at least decreasing the dosage) and had me wear a heart monitor through the evaluation.  My first test was on the treadmill.  The two doctors were standing on either side of me and encouraged me to hang on to the balance bars as we started.  Every few minutes, they asked how I felt on a rating system of 0 to 10, 0 being no real stress at all.  At first, it felt great to be moving.  If I could have stayed on that level, I would have been happy.  But, very gradually, the speed and the incline was increased.  All the time I was walking, we were talking about Bear Lake and their cold winters, since Dr. Hansen had just bought a cabin at Bear Lake.  I was getting more and more tired, even anxious, and finally said, "Okay, I'm done," right in the middle of someone's sentence.  Unfortunately, I think I had waited too long because the very few seconds it took to decrease the speed and incline were torture and I honestly felt like I would fall off or start bawling.  Part of me was upset to be so weak...I was barely on the machine more than 5 minutes!  It was hard to take.  The other tests only confirmed how much muscle I have lost--strength tests, balance tests, etc.--and I was pretty depressed by the time we were finished.  At one point, I told the therapist how sorry I was and he said, "Don't ever apologize.  This is what you can do now and we'll help you increase your strength so you can test better in the future."  That made me feel a little better, but honestly, I felt so OLD. 

The next step is the doctors will go over all my tests and write me a "physical therapy prescription", just for me.  I will go back in a couple of weeks to get that prescription, which will be entered into the computer so that any of the physical therapists will have access to it.  Then, I made appointments to go into the workout room twice a week through May (I'll have to play June by ear with school ending and Chelsea's baby coming, etc.).  It feels good to have a plan, but I am really so tired of being tired and not feeling normal.  Ugh.

It has been two years since my initial diagnosis. Just a few days ago, on May 1, it marked one year since my "Whipple" surgery.  Sometimes I look at all I've had to give up because of this devil cancer, which now includes the writing bit I talked about, and resigning from the Symphony Chorus.  I will probably never go back to the chorus--my voice is not the same and I'm sure I couldn't pass an audition.  I am too skinny and unrecognizable to most people who haven't seen me in a while, and I don't like it.  Anyone who says, "Wow, you look so good," hasn't looked close enough to see the real me.  I don't like it.  I would gladly have an extra 20 pounds if it meant I felt better and wasn't so weak or tired.  I have not only lost over 100 pounds in two years., but I have lost an inch in height.  I am now 5'8".  Probably getting older has contributed to this, but I think not having that core strength in my abdomen and chest has shriveled me up, too.  I will never be able to wear heels again to church and other fancy events--I am too wobbly and unsteady in them and it's hard for me to stand up without being flat-footed.  But, then again, what I have gained, experience-wise, is priceless and I wouldn't trade that either.  I am stronger in faith and hope than ever before.  I know God has a plan for my life and He won't take me one day before that plan is fulfilled.  I know it.  "The flesh is weak, but the Spirit is willing," has a whole new meaning in my life.  I hope that where some doors have closed, others will open so that I can find more joy in this journey.

(Picture:  Chelsea and I in another time and place...)