Showing posts with label bruise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bruise. Show all posts

Friday, May 10, 2019

Not Good

Pss. 63:3 “Because thy lovingkindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.”

When people ask me how I’m doing, like everyone else I say fine. They’re happy with that and offer me to ‘keep it up’! I’m not lying I just don’t want to get into the gist of what I feel is a failure. My husband, son, and mother-in-law don’t see it as a failure but I do. I feel like I’ve let myself an everyone else down. I come down pretty hard on myself.

I’m lying to myself more than anything. I want to be fine and believe I’m going to be fine but getting from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ is a whole different matter. I accepted the easier of the chemo routes meaning not the kind where they slice, dice, and radiate you, then place what they call a ‘port’ under my skin to fester. The port is the loading dock for the poison they’d administer. No, I took lethal injection instead.

It has been nothing but lethal since the first ninety-minute injection where the side effects were tearing me up from the inside. They lied and told me it would get better; the chills and hard pain should subside with each dose and after the third dose I see no change in side effects except them getting worse. Had Allison been more concerned with the patient than the kickbacks from the Femara she kept trying to push, maybe she would have known about the swelling.

The last visit I had was two weeks ago and Allison, whom I think is the doctor’s assistant came in and saw me instead of the Dr. himself. I guess he was too busy and bears the weight of the patient load. For some reason when they ask you how you’re doing, and you tell them, they spin your words. 

“I’m not good. I’m in a lot of pain from side effects,” I say.

“Oh, they get better with time. Some women don’t even know they’re getting chemo. So, why don’t you want Femara?” There it is, the sale of drugs.

“Well, I know I don’t like the side effects, but I’ll push on. Not with Femara though, something milder the doctor offered.” 

The argument. “Chemo has saved millions of lives, you know?”

“I’m not getting into this conversation, it upsets me.” She knows this, I’ve seen her before. She pressed on until I was in tears and she was (unapologetically) apologizing. She knew what she was doing. They push the fear and scare tactic buttons until you’re a hot mess. Needless to say, she didn’t check my heart, my swelling, or my pulse, all that are normal things to check for in a visit. She was too busy trying to sell her drug.

I was going to give this weeks Herceptin a try, so off I went for my thirty-minute poison pump, where they pump the ‘juice’ into my veins. Afterward, at home, I ate and thought all was right with the world, I was feeling good, then the pain came like a freight train barreling down the tracks. I’ll never eat again, is what I said over and over in tears, wrapped in a blanket, and now in bed at five in the afternoon. This was the norm when coming home from the chemo trips.

A couple more days followed suit and it hit me, that since my first treatment what was once a vital woman was now a shell, a crippled woman trying to make it through each day. I was waking sad, sore and depressed. I couldn’t do my exercises that for seven months I’d been doing. I was just wheeling through the house, using my walker too, but the cane… it became a hindrance and I haven’t used it in nine weeks, almost twelve weeks.

Now when people ask how I’m doing I say, “Not good.” I just can’t lie. When I said I was doing okay, I was! I was walking, exercising, cold or not I got out of the house, intermingled with human beings, I was good. WAS being the operative word. Say your not and poof, everyone disappears. They’ll be back when the word is ‘good’ again. Not good is negative (I know) and brings them down. I don’t blame them.

My mother-in-law emailed me last week and asked if she could come out for a visit, bring me some flowers (for the outside) and I said YES!! Need anything? FRESH RIPE tomatoes! Lol So I was getting a visitor besides my son! Wouldn’t you know, we had so much rain the roads are a muddy mess. It was warm that day and she wore shorts and I told her, this week you’ll be bringing the coats back out! We are all in amazement of this crazy weather. Surprising tornadoes in the city of Lincoln, rain, high winds, cold, chill, floods again, if not, washed out roads! Just a mess, just not a frozen solid ground mess.

Then last week the pain hit me hard. I was having adverse reactions and needed to call the doctors office and let them know. I wrote about the ‘normal side effects a few weeks ago, like sleep problems, nausea, muscle pain, abdominal pain, loss of appetite, tiredness and more, so many more. But there were also the bad side effects. I remembered the swelling but needed to look and see what else I had.

Serious Reactions:
bone pain,
increased coughing,
swelling of the hands/ankles/feet, MY ONE FOOT IS SWELLED LIKE A BALLOON
sudden unexplained weight gain,
unusual tiredness, I FEEL SLEEPING TWELVE AND FIFTEEN HOURS IS NOT NORMAL
severe headache,
tingling or numbness, MY LEFT-HAND GOES NUMB/ NECK TINGLY
mental/mood changes,  I THOUGHT IT WAS NORMAL MENOPAUSE CRUD
fast or pounding heartbeat, and  YES
easy bruising or bleeding.           YES (WHERE’D THAT COME FROM)

I  called and told the nurse Navigator I was experiencing adverse reactions. She said to rest and put my foot up and see if that helps. It did for a couple of nights but that was it. Only my left foot is swelled. And… and… “I’ll take care of the scrip for ya. Ok, bye.” This malpractice is in their court, not mine!

I’m giving up on Herceptin and to me feels like I failed. But wait I didn’t, the DRUGS did!

I know I didn’t, and everyone will tell me so. I go this week for what the docs office thinks is a Herceptin trip and to their surprise, they’re getting me and all my adverse reactions, FINALLY, but no more Herceptin, on to a new plan, Doc! I hope I make it that far, until Wednesday!

There’s more going on that I need to tell you, I’ll call extenuating circumstances! 

TO BE CONTINUED….

Pss. 119: 78 “Let the proud be ashamed; for they dealt perversely with me without a cause: but I will meditate in thy precepts.”

Pss. 119:17 “Deal bountifully with thy servant, that I may live, and keep thy word.”

God Bless!