Showing posts with label hand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hand. 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!



Saturday, June 16, 2018

The Fear Factor

1 Sam. 17:34 "And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep, and there came a lion, and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock:"

I realize there is something inside me that helps me overcome so many hurdles; I have the strength of a lion and the gentleness of a lamb. When you come face to face with a lion ( a rare event for sure), I'm sure you're instilled with fear. The fear factor is something that rules everyone, even though they don't know it has washed over them or that the feeling has saturated their souls.

Let me ask, when you're faced with a diagnosis from a doctor, you know that tingling you get in your heartbeat where it feels as though it has stopped but you know it didn't because you're still alive, as you feel the rapid rhythm pulsating in your chest? Your brow breaks out in beads of sweat, your palms become clammy as you wait for a prognosis; that there is fear, fear of the worst-case scenario. 

I don't think anyone goes into the doctors' office with the faith that all is well. You walk in out of fear. Most people don't even go to the doctor because of fear but by the time you've made it to his doorstep, you're carrying fear in there with you. Why? Because you know full well you haven't taken care of yourself. You know deep down the neglectful years are finally going to catch up with you.

When I finally went to the doctor because of 'a lump', I instinctively knew what was going to be said. I had done all of the google searches that aimed me in the 'most likely not' direction, but the final diagnosis became 'the worst case scenario'. Fear drove me home that day, fear tried to wake up with me the next day but the little lamb in me came and nestled in my heart as a comforting blanket of wool in a much needed time of cold despair.

I remember a few years ago when we visited an animal sanctuary and I came face to face with a lion! I actually stood in a cage of tigers and was allowed to pet one. Can you say that you've ever done THAT in your life? No, not many people can. The lion was big and fierce but he was wounded and neglected, that is why he was in the sanctuary, to save his life from years of neglect. Rory was finally getting the help he needed in the saviors at the animal sanctuary. As we came eye to eye, neither of us feared; we were both sizing one another up but as I went to pet him he let me know why he was the king of the forest with a loud roar and a snap at my finger. At that time he urinated on me in a spray and our uncle giggled and said, "That'll happen when they want to mark you." I wasn't laughing but I did find it cool to later that day go back and tell my friends that a lion had 'delivered me', I mean, peed on me. 

1 Sam. 17:37 "David said moreover, The LORD that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine. And Saul said unto David, Go, and the LORD be with thee."

When I was diagnosed with the Big C, I feared the doctors more than I did the lion! I feared the diagnosis, the treatment and the finality of the prognosis. I let the fear factor go home with me but I didn't let it pee on me and ruin my life. When the gavel came down later that week with the verified results, I didn't fear the doctor, I feared the treatment and the lack of willingness for us both to work on a positive outcome of what they had just sprayed me with. I didn't get to go home and be joyful to tell all my friends how I overcome the spraying of the venom that the doctors unleashed, instead I came home and told my friends of the fear I saw in the eyes of my loved ones as I said I wasn't going the conventional route.

This is when I realized I would need every bit of strength in going forward.  I needed to see past the fear factor. I knew I would need to look the lion of fear in the eye and let it know that I am a victim too, I am not a weak victim and my Savior is not a sanctuary for saving cats but a sanctuary of love for saving human beings; the Lamb would rise up to save me. I believe this with every fiber of my being. He knows it, I know it, I just wish the surrounding onlookers knew what it took to get me from point A to point B!

As many of you may have feared your dad as a child; the impending belt, switch, the hand of discipline, you feared. Many unknowingly carry the fear of accepting an Almighty Savior, feeling a little insecure in giving Him 100% total trust.  My dad wasn't the disciplinarian in my family, so I had no fear of accepting my Father in Heaven's discipline or guidance. I never had any trouble getting flushed by His spray of undeniable, unconditional love. He has marked me and surely is saving me from my own self. As I relinquish the fear factor and move forward with unwavering faith in a snail's pace enjoying the brilliant view, painstakingly hating the climb but cherishing the time I spend with my Father as the day draws near where we will be walking hand in hand on the shorelines of Heaven.  There won't be two sets of footprints because I will be beside Him, basking in all of his love and glory. As I miss my earthly father who now resides in heaven I am ever grateful to my Heavenly Father for sending out a boat, filled with life preservers and saturating my soul when I need Him most.

It is a glorious Father's Day! Happy Father's Day, Abba! 

Pss. 57:4 "My soul is among lions: and I lie even among them that are set on fire, even the sons of men, whose teeth are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword."

Sunday, November 06, 2016

Poetry Sunday ~ The Path

Pss. 17:5 Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip not.
***
The Path I Take
***
As curious winds dance about
snow lay at my feet
swirling in my mind is doubt
for all the world to meet.

Take my hand and walk me through
the life that has a muddled hue.

Swift soft whispers of the day
spin my life around
stellar are the stars I see
they lift me off the ground.

Hold me now for I am weak
my Father’s face, do I seek.

Step lightly as you pass.
on wilted willow's bough;
Windows open, breath falls in
I’m here amongst you now.

He breathes new life into me
I share for all the world to see.


Originally posted:11 21 10
The one I wrote for today was
too dark.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Grains of Sand

Job. 6:3 For now it would be heavier than the sand of the sea: therefore my words are swallowed up.

Grains of Sand

Shards of glass, window broken
Words unsaid, never spoken
Lining up the grains of sand
I reach out to grasp a hand.

No one sees me standing there
Arms outstretched in deep despair.
Calls unheard, emotions dripping
Grains of sand, my fingers slipping.

Fragments of a former storm
Threads just barely keep me warm
I extend a trembling hand
Seeking out one grain of sand.

There along the barren shore
I am offered an open door.
Carried from this desolate land
Rainbows blink on grains of sand.

Prov. 27:3 A stone is heavy, and the sand weighty; but a fool's wrath is heavier than them both.
 
 

Friday, June 04, 2010

Reach Out and Touch...

Ps. 45: 1 My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
***
Boy I’ve got songs on the brain this week.

Reach out and touch somebody’s hand, make this world a better place, if you can.

This is the beginning of the song and it makes me wonder why everyone doesn’t reach out, in some way, if only to make this world a better place.

In our writing this is exactly what we’re doing. We’re reaching out to someone, anyone, that will take what we have to share through our experience, and in some small way we are changing the world. Imagine a world without To Kill a Mockingbird or The Lord of the Rings. Just imagine how unchanged we would be.

I’m sure you can name a book, (the Holy Bible?) or author that not only made a difference in your life, but altered your way of thinking. Whether it was a fictional tale of hope, or a non- fiction on truth, you read the book, you walked away changed.

Now a lot of people read for the fantasy. They don’t want to be touched or changed, they just like reading and want to lose themselves in the fantastical world of werewolves, vampires, and grisly gore so that they have thus buried the reality into which they live. Maybe they’re hiding from something? Maybe they just want a release from the here and now?

Whatever the case may be, the person will come back to reality, read another book that will actually change them again. It’s a vicious cycle, but true no less. Writer’s change the world one word at a time. And who says a good blood sucking tale can’t change your world?

Now you might say, the song says, “to touch somebody’s hand.” In my world a book whether on your MP3 player or ‘in your hand’, will touch someone at some point in time.

the song goes on...

 
Take a little time out of your busy day
To give encouragement
To someone who's lost the way
(Just try)
Or would I be talking to a stone
If I asked you
To share a problem that's not your own
We can change things if we start giving
Why don't you
reach out and touch somebody’s hand.

Amazing words Miss Ross!
 

I, in my own way, reach out on a daily basis. I wish everyone could just try to give encouragement to someone who’s lost their way. Whether words touch you, my voice touches you, or what you read touches you...I reach out, it is up to you to take hold of my hand and learn and grow. In this way, we make the world a little bit better place to live.