Today I walked 5 miles for the Making Strides Walk, which benefits the American Cancer Society. I did not think I would make the whole 5 miles on my bad hip, but I did it, slowly, my own way, with great friends my sister, and a most beautiful sunshine. Last year I did this same walk much faster, with much less effort. This year I needed to get home for some Advil. Last year I raised money. This year I made no attempt to do so. I could've, for sure. People want to help and don't know what to do. I'm at a loss for what these people can do. I get phone numbers from people I like very much but don't know so well, who want to know what they can do.
What everyone needs to know first and foremost is that I deeply appreciate every hug I get. That seems to be the best thing to do most of the time. I've become very huggy. It's a wonderful connection that stays with me for awhile. I also apparently like talking endlessly if you have time to listen and I'm on Prednisone. Most of the time, I need to do anything I can do. Or at least try! If there's something you think to do because you see a need, that's amazing. I was sick one morning at work and a teacher gave up her prep to stay with my kids while I napped in the nurse's office. She simply came into my classroom and sent me away. My friends showed up for two days while I was at work and cleaned my house, which was desperately dirty. The day I came home to fresh smells and order, I was completely overwhelmed. But you have to know someone very well before you can show up and clean their house.
Now I have a few others wanting to pay a service to clean, which is also wonderful. Just like the plentiful meals we receive. And yet on one hand it feels strange. I would certainly have the same thoughts if any of these beautiful women were sick, I'd want to do something special. I should just gratefully accept it, and I will. I believe I'm feeling guilty for receiving a bountiful of riches from amazing and sincere people while there must be many others suffering in silence. Why am I so lucky and blessed, and how can we make sure everyone gets those offers of "anything I can do?" (I really appreciate those offers, by the way, I never take them as empty expressions.) This is what I think about. Some people are more private than I am, perhaps suffering more. Are they getting all the good care and concern? We all keep our eyes open for anyone who needs a good deed. I hope I notice more often after this whole experience. I think all I can do is to pay it forward.
As for how we're doing in the Friedman Family Clinic. Ken's shoulder surgery went well, and if you see him, tell him to wear his sling all the time. I think he's doing too much. I'm feeling mostly well. I have enough energy, certainly, and a huge appetite, which I feed with abandon. The chemo has a minimal effect on me compared to the Prednisone. I'm having continuing back and hip problems. I lost a lot of myself physically while lying in bed most of the time for more than a month. With Prednisone, I stood up to face the world again, and promptly bent wrong. Ouch! The kids are doing great. You should see Allison's trombone solo in the marching band. We're so proud of her! Jason got his braces taken off and he is so handsome. We're proud of him for being an incredible help to Ken during his worst days. Jonah is doing well and has agreed to join a support group for kids with parents suffering from cancer. I think it starts this Thursday, and there will be a concurrent parent group. He's also quite a pitcher at baseball! On a sad note, I have a couple extraneous, estranged family members who need to leave this blog. Good-bye, Mrs. Abrams and Mrs. Fine.
Shout out to Renee, who checks everyday to see if I've written anything. Email me tonight or tomorrow! Shout out to Scott, whose remission is on my mind lately. You always make me smile!
Shout out to Barb, because she's Barb!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Saying it Once
I've pretty much discarded the whole point to the blog, because I don't write nearly enough and I end up telling the same news repeatedly. Somehow I've got to get more information across here, because I'm not getting enough information across. I'm frustrated and miserable, and if I could just do this more often it would clear my head just enough, I think.
Cancer is shitty. Livers can be killers. I could write a whole lot about vomit, as I have become so adept at the act. I wonder how much I could write about curling up in one corner of my bed, staring at the same walls as the light changes through the day, with the computer eight feet away, so far, the bathroom a distant and necessary goal. When I'm not dehydrated. There's agony, and it's amazing that a human in 2011 could simply be left like that. Can't they just keep me in the hospital sometimes and drug me enough to sleep peacefully?
Anyway, that's all the past for the moment. I'll start at the beginning.
I was off chemo for a month, waiting to begin the oral chemo. The break wasn't pleasant, as my liver became more palpable. Literally, I could palpate my liver, and I could practically feel it in my rib cage, in my bones. Nausea was constant and then it progressed beyond just that. I made it to work everyday during all this time and taught first grade, and I can't tell you how. Mints, diet coke, ginger ale, and thank goodness for a sink in my classroom. I could hold it together for the kids and then get home and sleep until the next morning. Then it got worse. On Friday the 30th (the same day I finally started the oral chemo) I walked into a wall at school and left early. By Sunday I was begging to go to the hospital, but Ken was hesitant. We finally talked to an oncologist that night, who suggested I might just want to wait until the next morning, when I could go to Penn for fluids. Unfortunately, I woke the next morning, considered all the prep work I'd have to do for a sub, and went to school instead of a hospital. That was stupid. I did last half the day, somehow, but that wasn't the greatest three hours of learning for 17 first graders. Thank goodness they're great, and we have a pretty good auto pilot.
Penn, what a relief. I got my fluids and strong ativan, and blessedly, prednisone. Prednisone makes such a huge difference, I was fully ready to get back to the kids pretty quickly. And here I am, functioning to a degree I would've found unimaginable last weekend. These ups and downs are crazy, but at least there are ups.
My back hurts, and my left leg isn't acting right. I can't figure it out, and it's more annoying than anything else. I'll certainly take it after what I dealt with last week. I hope it clears up soon. On Wednesday Ken is going in for surgery on his shoulder, with a tough recovery. I'm pretty stressed about that.
So far 2011 has been one enduring nightmare. With Ken recovering from shoulder surgery and me in this condition, should we take a cruise in December? We booked it in March, and we were so excited to take such a big family vacation. Now, we're just not optimistic about anything good happening in 2011 (see Phillies post season for more info). Ken will be in pain, I'll be in a corner of a bed, and it'll rain the whole time. We have trip insurance. Should we push the cruise back to March or April, or just try to go for it in December?
Cancer is shitty. Livers can be killers. I could write a whole lot about vomit, as I have become so adept at the act. I wonder how much I could write about curling up in one corner of my bed, staring at the same walls as the light changes through the day, with the computer eight feet away, so far, the bathroom a distant and necessary goal. When I'm not dehydrated. There's agony, and it's amazing that a human in 2011 could simply be left like that. Can't they just keep me in the hospital sometimes and drug me enough to sleep peacefully?
Anyway, that's all the past for the moment. I'll start at the beginning.
I was off chemo for a month, waiting to begin the oral chemo. The break wasn't pleasant, as my liver became more palpable. Literally, I could palpate my liver, and I could practically feel it in my rib cage, in my bones. Nausea was constant and then it progressed beyond just that. I made it to work everyday during all this time and taught first grade, and I can't tell you how. Mints, diet coke, ginger ale, and thank goodness for a sink in my classroom. I could hold it together for the kids and then get home and sleep until the next morning. Then it got worse. On Friday the 30th (the same day I finally started the oral chemo) I walked into a wall at school and left early. By Sunday I was begging to go to the hospital, but Ken was hesitant. We finally talked to an oncologist that night, who suggested I might just want to wait until the next morning, when I could go to Penn for fluids. Unfortunately, I woke the next morning, considered all the prep work I'd have to do for a sub, and went to school instead of a hospital. That was stupid. I did last half the day, somehow, but that wasn't the greatest three hours of learning for 17 first graders. Thank goodness they're great, and we have a pretty good auto pilot.
Penn, what a relief. I got my fluids and strong ativan, and blessedly, prednisone. Prednisone makes such a huge difference, I was fully ready to get back to the kids pretty quickly. And here I am, functioning to a degree I would've found unimaginable last weekend. These ups and downs are crazy, but at least there are ups.
My back hurts, and my left leg isn't acting right. I can't figure it out, and it's more annoying than anything else. I'll certainly take it after what I dealt with last week. I hope it clears up soon. On Wednesday Ken is going in for surgery on his shoulder, with a tough recovery. I'm pretty stressed about that.
So far 2011 has been one enduring nightmare. With Ken recovering from shoulder surgery and me in this condition, should we take a cruise in December? We booked it in March, and we were so excited to take such a big family vacation. Now, we're just not optimistic about anything good happening in 2011 (see Phillies post season for more info). Ken will be in pain, I'll be in a corner of a bed, and it'll rain the whole time. We have trip insurance. Should we push the cruise back to March or April, or just try to go for it in December?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
