tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3936292734876508402024-03-14T01:06:43.850-04:00Roll The Bones"Why does it happen? Because it happens. Roll the bones, Roll the bones" (Rush)
<br>
<br>
Documenting my journey through the world of bone disease.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-45138450133039583972012-11-15T21:57:00.000-05:002012-11-25T22:18:27.054-05:00MRI - a solo day in TOFinally had my MRI.<br />
<br />
Funny, when everyone thinks you have cancer, you get MRIs in a week, or even less.<br />
<br />
This time was 5 weeks from appointment to MRI. I know - still less than the average wait time. But it felt like a long long wait.<br />
<br />
During this time my pain had been increasing again.<br />
<br />
Lots of pain, lots of heat, lots of swelling. Generally miserable all the time. Managing pain with two extra strength tylenol and two extra strength ibuprophen four times a day. Still hurts. But I can get through it.<br />
<br />
I had a lovely chat with the MRI tech before going in to the tube. She was very friendly, and was full of questions, and just general perkiness. I love those kinds of techs. The hospital is big, and scary, and has lots of really sick people in it. Techs who are positive and kind counter the rest.<br />
<br />
My MRI took ages. It was supposed to be from 10-1030. I was in the tube for an hour. Or more. I got out at 11am. There was lots of shots, both without contrast dye and with.<br />
<br />
Then the tech helped me out. And she wouldn't look at me. She was trying to keep a neutral face.<br />
<br />
She asked when I was going to be following up with my doctor. I said "next month".<br />
<br />
The tech "NEXT MONTH! That is too long! He'll get these today, for sure".<br />
<br />
Crap.<br />
<br />
They saw something. Again. My leg isn't better.<br />
<br />
Bought a fancy coffee. And waited for my blood work to be done. Which will no doubt be normal. My MRI, however, will likely not be.<br />
<br />
Crap.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-12955646975102323992012-07-04T21:40:00.000-04:002012-11-25T21:46:59.922-05:00What are the antibiotics supposed to do anyway?I'm halfway through my 3 months of antibiotics.<br />
<br />
My leg is still sore.<br />
<br />
It is still swollen.<br />
<br />
It still hurts.<br />
<br />
It still throbs.<br />
<br />
I visited my family doctor a couple of weeks ago, hoping to get some guidance as to what the heck is going on with my leg.<br />
<br />
Alas...she has none.<br />
<br />
She sent me back to the team at Mt. Sinai.<br />
<br />
They told me the following:<br />
<br />
Your leg is still healing from the biopsy.<br />
<br />
Your leg is still battling a bone infection.<br />
<br />
Of course it is sore.<br />
<br />
Maybe you are doing too much?<br />
<br />
Or not enough?<br />
<br />
I was very upset. It felt very "there there, little lady, you just go on home and put your feet up and take these pills and it will ALL be just peachy keen fine".<br />
<br />
Fuckers. It isn't getting better. It isn't.<br />
<br />
But I really hope they are right.<br />
<br />
They say I can come back when my antibiotics are completely finished. Scheduled me for end of September.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-31600332945621346902012-05-17T21:35:00.000-04:002012-11-25T22:20:46.377-05:00Start the Car<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have never gotten out of a hospital so quickly. I was desperate to get out of there before they changed their minds.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6C7oqXewyCE" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ikea Start the Car</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
<br />
They didn't find cancer. They found nothing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Nothing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Which is great - because I don't have cancer, but not great - because they really don't know what is wrong with my leg.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
They are going to assume it is a bone infection (osteomyelitis). 3 months of antibiotics should clear it up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
They didn't manage to culture any infection. No bacteria or virus was found in the "generous sample" that they took from my leg and bone. But it is their best guess at this time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
They still don't really know what is wrong with my leg - and it still really hurts - and my bone throbs at night.<br /><br />But I'm delighted I'm not starting chemo on Monday :)<br /><br />Part of me is paranoid that they biopsied the "wrong" area. And that there is sarcoma lower down. Or higher up. And that it will spread and grow.<br /><br />But that will be caught in August, when we go back fro more testing. And even, at that point, if it is cancer, it will *still* be early.<br /><br />In the meantime, I'm on my antibiotics, and calcium and vit D to heal any possible infection, and to regrow the damaged bone.<br /><br />And I continue to be delighted that I'm not starting Chemo on Monday.</span>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-52204070806874107512012-05-09T17:22:00.001-04:002012-05-09T17:22:21.931-04:00Living in Egypt<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Living day by day with probably-cancer is horrible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, having for-sure-cancer sucks
worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because then you actually
have cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But this waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And holding on to hope when the logical part of you says there really is
no chance of it not being cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is so stressful and ridiculous.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When my family asks how I’m doing, I reply that I’m happy in
Egypt for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As they say,
“denial isn’t just a river in Egypt”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not really in denial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can’t get bogged down in the details of cancer-land
right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I don’t know
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what is
happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what will
be happening over the next week, or two, or the next year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a clue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chemo, surgery, chemo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that is a little vague when it
comes to planning and scheduling, so I can’t focus on what is coming.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can focus on getting the kids school work done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can focus on what we are having for
dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can focus on cuddling on
the sofa and reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can focus
on soccer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking care of my
family – that I CAN do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is
really all I can do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take care of
them and take care of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
I’m healthy going into whatever treatment is on deck for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m still scheduling my panics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For an hour or two after the kids go to bed each night, I
panic, scour the internet for survival rates, read blogs, cry over the ones
that end suddenly with a grieving spouse providing the last entry, look up
chemo drugs and their side effects, learn shorter routes into the hospital in
case I spike a fever during treatment, and get angry that my family has to go
through this at all.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-61071155363621161372012-05-08T17:21:00.000-04:002012-05-09T17:21:23.544-04:00The Call<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a perfect world, I get a phone call from Dr. W’s office
saying that I have been referred to another surgeon who will be finishing up my
care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I have a bone infection,
maybe there is some hotshot surgeon who is brilliant at rebuilding rotten
bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I happily wait the couple
of weeks for that appointment, do more tests, get fixed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wham, Bam, Thank you Mam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Physio, drugs, all done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wrapped up in a neat little package.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sadly – that didn’t happen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I received a call today from Dr. W’s office.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They have booked me in for an appointment with Dr. W and his
team next week on the twelfth floor of the hospital.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Damn it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr.
W’s team is the Sarcoma Team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
the twelfth floor is Oncology (yes, I did memorize the floors while I was in
the elevators during my previous visits).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no way that our medical system would waste
everyone’s time and have me come in to meet with the Sarcoma Team to go over
the pathology report if I didn’t have cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I
didn’t have cancer, they would just shift me off on the next lucky doctor who
specializes in whatever problem that was found.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But they didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They want me back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Sarcoma Team wants me back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I’m sitting at 99.999999999% sure that I have
cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damn it.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-22394183279400196792012-05-07T23:03:00.002-04:002012-05-07T23:03:36.626-04:00The help<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Watching my kids do track and field without me hurts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love being a coach. I love playing
and running and jumping and having fun with the kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is part of my identity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>10 years as a stay at home, homeschooling mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is who I am.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Which makes interviewing for full time babysitters
absolutely horrible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t even know my diagnosis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t even know how long I will need help for.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And it is certainly awkward to explain to candidates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You seem really nice – and a good fit
for our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I really hope
I don’t need to hire you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
offence”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I have cancer, I’m looking to hire someone for nine
months to a year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That will keep
us through chemo, surgery, recovery and more chemo.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I have a bone infection, or some other kind of problem,
then I will likely need help for 3-4 months.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
According to google (I know, I know), at the very least I
will require some sort of surgery to remove the rot and rebuild the bone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know how much of my bone is
damaged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am pretty sure my knee
is just fine (no one has indicated otherwise, and my bone scan showed NO
glowing in that area). But even the tibia rebuilding will require some rehab.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-68365391153748270282012-05-03T18:05:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:06:10.621-04:00Responsibility<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It isn’t my responsibility to help you deal with me having
cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It isn’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have enough to handle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m dealing with me having cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m dealing with DP dealing with me having cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m dealing with my kids dealing with me having cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m dealing with my parents dealing with me having cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sorry you are upset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m kind of glad too, in a sick and twisted way, as it probably means
you care about me. And that you think it sucks I’m going through this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I can’t help you deal with this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you it will all be
okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t hug you and comfort
you and be there for you, and talk about your fears of mortality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t help you digest this news, and
hear you imagine what you would do if this was happening to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have too much on my plate as it is.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-70091760281636813752012-05-02T18:04:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:04:45.795-04:00"Sad Face"<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
First SOLO day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>DP headed to work, hesitantly, leaving me at home with the kids.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The plan was that my brother and his family would bring subs
for lunch, and that Grampa would bring dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I all had to do was parent the kids all day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was blown out of the water by a visitor just after
10am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said to the kids “Don’t
answer the door”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they
did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were sure it was going
to be their uncle with lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Forget that we had just had breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One who doesn’t know what is going on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bear “My mom can’t come to the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She just had surgery and has crutches”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friend “WHAT?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So now I have to have her in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I can’t have <b>that</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> circulating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I
know, I should have people to support me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know, I know, people care about me and want to help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The “sad face”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
deal with it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My kids are all in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asks what is going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dancer “My mom had a test to find out the type of germs in
her leg”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is correct honey –
good for you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friend “What kind of test?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Biopsy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friend:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>SAD
FACE.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you can’t pull it together, friend, you have to
leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friend left, with tears in her eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kids:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is
wrong with her???</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sent a message to Friend very soon after her departure,
explaining that I was sorry that I kept this from her, and that I will be
telling everyone very soon, but that for now, all I needed was patience and
privacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that I was begging
her to keep this quiet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not used to begging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m not ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Until we know for sure.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-19581627378308150972012-05-01T18:02:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:02:26.909-04:00First day home<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Spent the day pretending I was still in hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting on sofa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of resting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big adventure was crutching from
one sofa to another so I could watch a movie while the kids were outside with
DP.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My percocet fueled brain was very happy to have a day of
nothingness. Being around the kids, being with the kids, but not actually doing
anything with them, or being responsible for them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t nap, though I suspect my brain did shut off a few
times.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The pain wasn’t too bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I did know when my 4 hours between pain killer doses
were up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As an extra bonus, I was outed by Dancer today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That is a nice purse, Dancer”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dancer “Thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I got it when I dropped mommy off at the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now she has great crutches with
stickers”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is what happens when you encourage open communication
with your children. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They openly communicate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phone call to ask for discretion followed.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-87618821242079289162012-04-30T22:07:00.000-04:002012-05-01T22:08:43.219-04:00And the good news is...<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are no further along in the is-it-cancer-or-not-cancer
question.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We know nothing more about the type of growth in my leg bone
than we did before the biopsy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
still consider myself to have “probably-cancer”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, today has been a day of positive outcomes and good
news about my health.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I rocked the biopsy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was very worried about the surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have never had surgery before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was prepared for pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I was worried about feeling sick, or throwing up, or
generally being out of sorts for the day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the day was fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was in recovery until 1130, then they moved me to my room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was up taking care of personal
business by 1pm, walking myself to the bathroom on crutches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slept a bit, rested a lot, enjoyed
some clear fluids (mmm mmm good vegetable broth and vegetarian jello).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt strong and well enough to leave
the hospital, and around 630 pm we left the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drove home. Stopped for a quick bite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was home before 9, and was able to give
the three monsters good night kisses and hugs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The news:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They removed and tested the tissue right beside the affected
area of my bone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no
cancer in that tissue.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bone growth looks “reactionary” rather than<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“tumour growthy” (I assure you this is,
in fact, a medical term).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now – to be fair – both of those things were considered to
be very likely before the biopsy based on imaging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, having clinical proof and visual confirmation of
that is wonderful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It means that whatever is in my bone hasn’t spread to the
tissue around the bone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other great piece of information is that the cells that
they dug out of my bone were not easily determined to be cancerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor were they easily determined not to
be cancerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically, the cells
looked like regular cells.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
FANTASTIC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because either 1 – it
isn’t cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2- it is a low grade cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Low grade cancers grow slowly and are
less likely to spread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Less likely
to spread is wonderful news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
also means it is not likely to be Ewing’s Sarcoma, which is a much more
aggressive form of cancer than regular old osteosarcoma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Aside:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it is creepy to be wishing for one kind of cancer
than another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it is where I am
right now).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The best news of the day, for me anyway, came from an accidental
run-in with Dr. W in the elevator as we were leaving.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I said “I know this may be a little inappropriate, but is
there a chance you remember how my chest Xray looked?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He thought about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He said “It looked good”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This – this is the golden news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no cancer in my lungs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bone cancer likes to spread to the lungs (this is was got
Terry Fox in the end).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there
is no cancer in mine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If it is cancer…it hasn’t spread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we caught the sucker early.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We now wait for the pathology results to come back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We continue to hope for not-cancer, but
I know that no matter what disease I am up against, I will win.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-56009179163516765692012-04-28T11:01:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:06:36.933-04:00Another MRI<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Telling Bee was easier than telling my parents. Of course, the fact that we had to have
the conversation in the 5 minutes it takes kids to get into their jammies helps
for sure.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Can’t get too bogged down in the details or the sadness when
you have a child at the table joining us for tea!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then there was a very long drive home. A drive that normally takes fifty
minutes took two hours. Two long
hours in the dark. To prevent
despair, Jann Arden kept me
company on the way. I know all the
words – so if you were driving on the 401 on Thursday night and were stuck in
the traffic caused by the closing of two lanes for construction, and noticed a
crazy lady in full karaoke mode…that was me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The MRI I had on Thursday went fine. I got into the hospital in just over
two hours of travel time. Again on
the subway with the great unwashed.
I did, however, get my very own single seat on the way in. Which meant – NO ONE TOUCHED ME. Bliss.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The MRI tech was lovely. Very sweet. She
came out and called my name, but then checked her sheet. She felt I was very young. I can honestly say, I’m never called
young anymore. I glanced at the
requisition form. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“URGENT!!! Need
MRI before sarcoma biopsy Mon, April 30”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Which explains why despite the 2-3 month wait times for
MRIs, I have managed to get my two in one week, and then one day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The tech asked the usual question “So, do you know why you
are here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes – to get a picture of the growth in my bone before Dr. W
does a biopsy on Monday.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the MRI, the tech said “Are they sure it is a
sarcoma? Your bone looks very
straight”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No. They don’t
know. That is why I’m having a
biopsy. And my bone looks straight
because if this is cancer…we caught it early. The cancer hasn’t started bulging out of my bone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tech “I really hope it isn’t a sarcoma”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks. Me too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-72210451577688896822012-04-27T10:59:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:06:59.882-04:00More telling<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thursday, I had to tell my parents I probably had
cancer. I can honestly say it was
the hardest thing I have ever had to tell them. You could visibly see my mother’s heart break when I told
her the news.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Granted – she was thinking that I was going to tell them
that I was pregnant. Failing that,
perhaps my relationship was in trouble, or perhaps DP had lost his job.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cancer was not expected, and a whole lot worse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the initial discussion, my parents went into business
mode. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom “So, we will look after the children on Monday while you
have your test.”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kat “No, mom, you can’t do that”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom “Why not” (bristling a little – because this is
something that she CAN do, LOVES to do).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kat “I need you to look after me”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CRACK. There
goes her heart breaking again. And
the tears.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I honestly thought that my time of causing my parents pain
and suffering was long over – adolescence was fun for everyone – but this is a
new entire level of sadness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know what I’m going through. I know how my body feels. I know the uncertainty, the misery and the stress of the
unknown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the only thing worse than going through this myself,
would be to have this happening to one of my children.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I get it. It
must be brutal for them.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-17440803743267023052012-04-26T10:58:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:07:24.519-04:00Perfectly healthy...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most common question asked of me during Xrays, scans, tests
and checkups:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you know why you are here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nobody wants to be the Xray tech spilling the beans on a
cancer diagnosis.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Second most common question:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And how is your health, generally”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m very healthy.
My leg, on the other hand, is very sick.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m perfectly healthy. Except for the cancer.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-71584354917820457872012-04-25T10:56:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:08:12.076-04:00A day at the hospital<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t sleep much last night. Though I was exhausted. And drained. I
took pain meds before bed, but they wore off, and I was wakened by pain just
after 4am. And then my brain
started racing about all the things I had experienced the day before. And I was up until after 7. I did get another couple of hours of
sleep. DP (bless him) took pity on
me and my sleepless night and got up with the kids and started breakfast.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tuesday, the big day, started very early. We were up at 530, so we could leave by
6. It was like we were going on
vacation to Turcs and Caicos again.
Except totally not as much fun.
But the same sneaking around the house quietly in the dark thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were hoping than the 3 hours that we left for getting
there would allow us to take our car all the way in. Alas, the traffic was working against us, so we took the
subway in. It was crowded. With people. Standing really close to me. Shudder.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We find the hospital, and find Dr. W’s office, where we are
greeted by a soft spoken man who works for the doctor. He gets my information and my MRI disk
and my Xray disk. And hands me
some paperwork to fill out before meeting with Dr. W.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So we sit in a row of chairs. With signs for “Orthopedic Oncology” all around. Pictures of tumors on the wall. Success Rates posted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I find this terribly funny. I mean, I know why we are here. I know what Dr. W does. But what if you didn’t? That would be quite the shock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are taken into a room by a medical student who takes my
history. She can’t find the lump
on my leg, but I could certainly feel her touching it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We then wait some more. I get worried, as we were supposed to have my appointment
with Dr. W at 9, then another appointment at 1030. It is 1025, and
I still haven’t met the doctor.
I go to talk to the soft-spoken man, who tells me he has already changed
my appointment and I will go later on.
Perfect. That 1030
appointment was supposed to be a pre-op appointment. For an operation that the doctor hasn’t told me about
yet. A little awkward.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dr. W comes in.
He seems kind and friendly, and gets right to it. He starts with “So – what do you know?”
I tell him that we are here to find out if I have a bone infection, or if I
have cancer. He says okay, and
goes on with the appointment. He
can feel the sore spot right away, guessing it from the MRI he says, but he can
feel the swelling as well.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He can’t tell me for sure if I have cancer. He tells me I probably have
cancer. And that the only way he
can know for sure is to do a biopsy.
They will culture some, in case it is an infection, but some will go to
pathology to determine the type of cancer. His vibe is that he would be
surprised if it was an infection.
So there goes the hope that he tells me he was the wrong doctor for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is likely osteosarcoma, lymphoma of the bone or Ewings
sarcoma.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Regardless of the type, I’m looking at chemo and surgery.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But he says the following:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You will be cured of this”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ask him if he will connect me with an oncologist. He smiles and says that he is an
oncologist. Cancer in the bones is
all he does.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That hits me pretty hard. All he does is bone cancer. And he says I probably have cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Translation: It
is very likely that I have cancer.
Way more likely than not.
Way more. It is as good as
a given.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, he feels very strongly that it will be very
treatable. It is still contained
in the bone, there was only a small amount of bone growth, not a big lumpy
tumour outside of the bone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The rest of the day filled up quickly. Much of the testing was to help with
staging. They need to know if the
cancer has spread. I had Xrays of
my lungs (bone cancer likes to spread to the lungs), and of my shoulder and
elbow (I’ve been having pain there, likely unrelated to the cancer, but better
to have it checked out). They also
wanted new ones of my leg. I will
also be having another MRI and a CT scan.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As an extra treat – I had a bone scan. This is a super cool thing. You get radioactive isotopes injected
into your vein. Then you wait 2
hours. (We went for lunch) The
isotopes collect in your bones.
And they REALLY collect in “hot spots” in your bones. These spots can indicate areas of
extraordinary cell growth. Cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got to see part of my scan – and my right leg was BRIGHT
WHITE. Glowing. From just below my knee to about half
way down my shin. Bright white.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only other hot spots that I could see were my bladder
and kidneys. The isotopes like
urine too! There is nothing wrong
my bladder and kidneys. I was just
working out my coffee and waters from lunch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now – I’m not a doctor (nor do I play one on TV), but the
fact that there were no other big giant bright white areas made me SO
HAPPY. Hoping that Dr. W also
finds no other bright white spots.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-41350572359423305442012-04-24T10:54:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:08:26.728-04:00Probably-cancer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Happy Anniversary to me. 14 years with DP.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have moved from having maybe-cancer to having
probably-cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And my hamster died.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So it was a big day</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Too much to process.
Need to clear my head. Too
much reality.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Way. too. much. reality.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fuck.
Cancer. What the hell?</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-24215631303108578002012-04-23T10:53:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:08:45.574-04:00Yawn<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I need to go to bed soon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m worried if I go to bed too early, I won’t be able to
sleep.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve got myself convinced that not only do I have bone
cancer, but I also have lung cancer and it is so big that it is pushing on the
nerves of my shoulder, causing the pain and numbness that I have in my left
arm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Google certainly sucks. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I do need to mention my shoulder and arm pain to the
doctors tomorrow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also looked up Dr. W on the hospital website. Unfortunately, the top hit was the
sarcoma physician referral form.
Well. That sucks too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was really hoping to find him listed as the hospital’s
expert in treating bone infections.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-604415509032871862012-04-21T10:52:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:09:03.199-04:00Maybe-cancer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a really bad case of maybe-cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is a rotten disease. It fills every spare moment, every quiet minute, every
second I’m not actively doing something productive, the maybe-cancer takes
over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The maybe-cancer makes me hate my leg. Makes me angry and miserable. And yet the maybe-cancer reminds me
that this pain could very well be the <b>least</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> of my worries in the future.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The maybe-cancer makes me limp around the house, washing
winter clothes and putting them away.
The maybe-cancer is making me re-label storage bins and clean out the
hall closet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The maybe-cancer is making me nest and clean and tidy and
organize and purge.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m frantic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This could be the last weekend I don’t “officially” have
cancer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I still haven’t found a babysitter or a house
cleaner. I simply have too much to
do to get ready for dealing with a bad diagnosis! I’m running out of time…the maybe-cancer is closing in and
making everything I do stressful and hard. I sometimes forget to breath.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The maybe-cancer sucks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I reflect on just a week ago, when I really wanted to know
what was wrong. I really wanted to
know, so that I could fight it, and get better.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But now I don’t really want to know. I just want to wake up and magically be
better.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The appointment is in only 2 days. Well – 2 days, and then it is bedtime to prepare for getting
up for the appointment. But 2 more
full days. Time flies. Time drags. It is horrible.
I don’t know which I prefer.
But it seems to drag when I’m in pain, and fly when I’m have a wonderful
time with the kids. Just like real
life, I guess.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The advantage of actually getting a diagnosis is that I can
come out of my cave. I feel I’ve
been hiding. It is easier to avoid
people that to have to answer questions.
I hate lying. I pride
myself on never lying. I’ve been
lying like crazy the last few weeks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How is your leg”
“Coming along, thanks”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What does your doctor say?” “She is still working on it”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are you limping?” “Yah, tough game last night”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You looking forward to track and field?” “Absolutely,
should be a great season!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The maybe-cancer is turning me into someone I’m not.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still crossing my fingers for a bone infection. Funny how surgery and hard core
antibiotics seem like a dream diagnosis when cancer is the alternative.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-71717652098954610262012-04-19T10:50:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:09:59.463-04:00What not to do<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can’t really write.
Can barely string a sentence together in real life, let alone on the
computer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So much going on in my head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got the call on Wednesday. I have an appointment with Dr. W in TO on Tuesday.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been told to book the whole day. I will have several appointments,
several tests.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a side note:
Watching Private Practice while the mother dies of cancer with her son
sobbing and hugging her, while you are waiting to hear if you yourself has
cancer: NOT a good idea. Just in case you had any doubt. Dinner was 15 minutes late. It took me that long to stop sobbing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-46628453465707748192012-04-18T10:49:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:10:13.133-04:00Real<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;">DP “This is all going to
get real very quickly”</span>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-89380438368534955982012-04-17T23:30:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:09:43.734-04:00Official update - still no news<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
No news is….well, it is still no news.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My family doctor called me before dinner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She had called Dr. W today, and spoke to the
receptionist/secretary/person that answers the phone at his office.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She said that she needed them to call her back with a date
for my appointment with Dr. W.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dr W’s office hasn’t
called her back yet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was an alternate surgeon’s name given to her by the
local orthopedic guy. But my
doctor knows the work that Dr. W does.
He has been fantastic for another one her patient’s crisis care. So she would really like me to get in
to see him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked her if she knew what was wrong with me. “Do I have cancer?”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She took a deep breath. And said:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Kat, I just don’t know. Unfortunately, it is a possibility. But I can’t even tell you the
likelihood. I can’t interpret the
MRI. It isn’t my specialty. But Dr. W can tell us. He is the expert. He can tell us if he is the doctor to
fix you, or if you need to go to someone else.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All right then.
So we wait. For Dr. W to
get through the backlog that has no doubt piled up on his desk while he was
away last week. And for his office
to call to set up the appointment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Again, my doctor is very concerned about the level of pain
I’m in. I assured her that I’m not
in that much pain, as I have pretty much eliminated all unnecessary
activities. Like walking
<grin>. I sit. A lot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The toradol does work well. But you can’t drink while taking it – which rules out Friday
and Saturday nights. In all
seriousness – it makes me dizzy and a little out of it. So I only take it at night. But it wears off after about 5
hours. So then I wake up. But it is better than nothing. Tonight when I wake, I’m going to take
some ibuprofen before trying to go back to sleep. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My doctor says she will talk to me again this week, one way
or another.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So we wait.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-87391626880224418842012-04-17T17:45:00.000-04:002012-04-27T17:46:24.617-04:00A watched phone never rings...<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Waited all day by the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
now 445, and still no call from the doctor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At 220 this afternoon, I called the office and told the
receptionist the following:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I need my doctor to call me back today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had an MRI.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My leg either has an infection, or I have cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need my doctor to call me back TODAY
and tell me if I have cancer”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
subtle or discreet or even respectful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But I’m loosing my mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
DP and I had a huge meltdown-y talk last night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About what the heck we are going to do
if I’m sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How will we cope?
What can we give up?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What can we
do right now?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We need to keep DP working, if at all possible. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will take leaves, he will take
vacation, but we really need to keep him employed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has great medical benefits, and there is likely quite a
bit of medication cost or physical therapy costs coming up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously, we will constantly
re-evaluate as thing go on, and as we get more information, but we need to work
with what is best for the whole family over the long term as well as getting us
through the immediate crisis.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whatever the hell that crisis is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is 455.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still no call from the doctor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I may camp out at her office first thing Wednesday morning if I don’t
hear from her today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is now
bordering on cruel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have known
for 3 weeks that there was something officially “not right” in my leg (after my
Xray), and now it has been almost 2 weeks since the MRI –<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>which we knew was “not good” right
away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jay and her kids spent a couple of hours here this
afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been skipping
activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Been spending a lot of
time just cuddling on the sofa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or
I sit on a chair in the front lawn with my phone beside me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watching the kids in the park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So today was a nice distraction to have
them all here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My crew loved it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Small-c dropped dinner and snacks off for me today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To save for a day I didn’t feel like
cooking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today felt like that kind of day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made bread to go with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the kids ate the snacks all day,
and there was no thinking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I need to get more sleep tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lay in bed last night for ages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mind spins, my leg hurts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is hard to settle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is 5pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
doctor is done seeing patients around now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she doesn’t call by 6pm, then she won’t at all today.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-11129539456809138452012-04-16T17:43:00.000-04:002012-04-27T17:44:32.114-04:00Please be the wrong guy.<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Waited all day by the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No call
from the doctor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that there
wouldn’t be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My doctor had clearly said that she
would call Tuesday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there was
still a small part of me that was hoping and wishing that someone would call.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To at least give me an appointment time with Dr. W.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I can start planning that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or maybe to tell me that Dr. W is not the right guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That he feels that I need to see
someone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone maybe less
cancer-y.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cannot go much longer without knowing what is wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every ounce of my being aches to get
answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just need to know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
DP needs to know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He is very stressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has
gone from “you are fine, it will all be fine” to “I’m not fully willing to
accept it, but why else would they be sending you to Dr. W?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is not sure what we are going to do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m still praying that Dr. W will say “I’m not the right
doctor for you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even if it is “just” a bone infection, there are LOTS of
things I have to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much of
any illness is out of my control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But so much is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need
childcare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need meals
planned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need a cleaning
lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(thinking a cleaning lady
may be a good thing anyway)</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-16565352061136461702012-04-14T17:41:00.000-04:002012-04-27T17:42:29.991-04:00Calm<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The calmness that comes with knowing that today, you will
learn NOTHING new is amazing.
Quite freeing, actually.
The phone rings, and you can answer it without dread. I am feeling much guilt about not
telling people about what is going on.
I feel like I’m letting people down, not taking on as much
responsibility as I normally do in a given week. I sit at activities instead of running around. I expect others to play with my kids at
group gatherings. I sit in the
park instead of playing tag. But I
have to take care of myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My leg bone is in a “weakened” state. My family doctor has made it clear that
I MUST go easy on my leg. In its
“weakened” state, it is very easy to break. And that would suck.
Whatever is wrong with my bone needs to stay in my bone. It seems contained right now –
obviously my bone has grown a little, so things are “pushing” out. But it is smooth and contained. It needs to stay contained. Bone cancer loves to spread to the
lungs. Which doesn’t turn out as
well as plain old regular bone cancer.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-241149865738175072012-04-13T17:40:00.000-04:002012-05-04T18:09:20.485-04:00"I'm sorry, but I can't"<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know what else sucks…when emails and phone calls come in
and say “Hey, can you coach track and field again this year?” or “Our testing
is starting up again, can you start working again in two weeks?” And I don’t know what to say. If this is nothing at all – then I can
say “certainly, I’m in”. But as it
stands, I’m not sure what to say.
I don’t want to tell people my situation, and yet, saying no requires
some explanations, as they are things I have done many times before, and I’m
depended on to continue doing them.
Obviously, if I’m sick, then no one would expect me to coach, or to work
at 530 am. But I’m not ready to
tell people I’m sick.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I’m coming up with a half assed “reasons why I can’t”
email. One that doesn’t lie. But one that doesn’t exactly tell the
whole truth, either.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-393629273487650840.post-2650596248566035292012-04-12T17:37:00.000-04:002012-04-27T17:38:34.090-04:00Away? When I need him?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Couldn’t handle waiting any longer. At 230 this afternoon, I called my
family doctor to see if there has been an appointment made for me in
Toronto. The receptionist, who,
for the record, has become <b>much</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> nicer
to me since she is aware of my medical situation, told me that Dr. W is away
for the rest of the week, and will be looking at my case on Monday when he
returns.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My family doctor will call me on Tuesday. That seems really far away. I likely have another week of not
knowing what is going on. Not
knowing what is wrong with me, and another week of not being able to come up
with a plan of “attack” against whatever I have, and not being able to come up
with a family plan to support my health care plan.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I need plans.
They keep me sane.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15348090074406448492noreply@blogger.com0