All this time, I've felt there's been limited optimism. Now it seems to be on the wain. I don't go anywhere anymore anymore, and I think it's because my body is going to waste. Ken has to keep convincing me I'm not dying, and my mom, who is doing well in her hospital doen's admit to worry. Would be nice to see Lori, but oh well.
I would like to eat. And relax. We'll see. I'll check tomorrow, I guess.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
blogs
I don't know quite what I'm writing lately. I've been feeling like crap lately. I need to apologize to all those who come here for valid information. Worse, I have to apologize for some help. Along with the wonderful news that Ken has a new new job, comes the realization that I suddenly can't drive. Seriously. I'm not allowed to drive out of the state. And Ken can't, so how do I get to Penn. I'll call the ACS to find out, but then you might be my next step. How stinky :(
Well, that's my post :(
Michelle
Well, that's my post :(
Michelle
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Channeling Charles Dickens
Well, now my damn sinuses have completely irritated me. I had my sinus CT scan, had my abdominal CT scan, didn't have chemo because of minocycline, which is, depending on your vantage, either the antibiotic du jour or the antibiotic du forever. At any rate, minocycline makes me nauseous and I am not a fan. It has helped this sinus infection, however. Or so I thought.
Dr. Fox told me I could/would not have chemo last Wednesday because he wanted me to finish the minocycline pills, and I STILL have 7 left. Civia and I went from Penn to Wegman's, where we bought probiotics to hopefully combat the antibiotics. I wish that worked better. So I'm not eating much, certainly not enough, and the bathroom at Parkway is nowhere near the gym. I'll keep going, and though I love watching Jonah's team win these last second basketball games, I'd love them to keep their first half momentum going once in awhile.
Boy, I do know how to get off track. Let's see, off chemo ... Oh yes. My tumor markers are up about 25 points and according to my abdominal CT I am doing worse, but Dr. Fox thinks I'm still better off waiting until next Wednesday, the 6th, to get my infusion. I'll be finished the antibiotic by then, but there might be another reason for a hold-out next week. I have an appointment on February 12 with an ENT surgeon because my sinuses are ALL messed up and I need two surgeries. Both outpatient. Apparently I'll feel so much better afterward, even my mom is acting happy for me. Here's what's officially wrong with my sinuses. I have a stone, like you get in your kidneys, but in a gland. It has to be removed from the right side, and it explains the jaw pain and headaches, etc. The other problem is that the infection has turned chronic, which somehow is another way of saying permanent, but I only have a cursory understanding of that. So one surgery to get rid of the stone, the other to I guess scrape away the infection. This is a nice diversion from breast cancer. Or whatever.
Last night I made the mistake of going to the Metastatic Breast Cancer Network site. I thought it would be a safe place, but no. I ended up with visions of my family and friends mourning for me at my funeral. You'd think the MBCN site, which is for people like me, would be a safe place @@.
Today was clearly not shaping up to be a great day, and then Jason came home from school with news that he got an A in his English midterm. An A! Last year he was in the hospital and didn't take midterms, and my only concern was that he'd take his own life if left to his own devices. This year he got an A. I'm proud to report he is suddenly caring and doing much better in school. He actually studied for these midterms!
Today. It's a great day!
Dr. Fox told me I could/would not have chemo last Wednesday because he wanted me to finish the minocycline pills, and I STILL have 7 left. Civia and I went from Penn to Wegman's, where we bought probiotics to hopefully combat the antibiotics. I wish that worked better. So I'm not eating much, certainly not enough, and the bathroom at Parkway is nowhere near the gym. I'll keep going, and though I love watching Jonah's team win these last second basketball games, I'd love them to keep their first half momentum going once in awhile.
Boy, I do know how to get off track. Let's see, off chemo ... Oh yes. My tumor markers are up about 25 points and according to my abdominal CT I am doing worse, but Dr. Fox thinks I'm still better off waiting until next Wednesday, the 6th, to get my infusion. I'll be finished the antibiotic by then, but there might be another reason for a hold-out next week. I have an appointment on February 12 with an ENT surgeon because my sinuses are ALL messed up and I need two surgeries. Both outpatient. Apparently I'll feel so much better afterward, even my mom is acting happy for me. Here's what's officially wrong with my sinuses. I have a stone, like you get in your kidneys, but in a gland. It has to be removed from the right side, and it explains the jaw pain and headaches, etc. The other problem is that the infection has turned chronic, which somehow is another way of saying permanent, but I only have a cursory understanding of that. So one surgery to get rid of the stone, the other to I guess scrape away the infection. This is a nice diversion from breast cancer. Or whatever.
Last night I made the mistake of going to the Metastatic Breast Cancer Network site. I thought it would be a safe place, but no. I ended up with visions of my family and friends mourning for me at my funeral. You'd think the MBCN site, which is for people like me, would be a safe place @@.
Today was clearly not shaping up to be a great day, and then Jason came home from school with news that he got an A in his English midterm. An A! Last year he was in the hospital and didn't take midterms, and my only concern was that he'd take his own life if left to his own devices. This year he got an A. I'm proud to report he is suddenly caring and doing much better in school. He actually studied for these midterms!
Today. It's a great day!
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
January
It's actually Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday today, but the kids will have their school holiday on Monday. I remember celebrating it on January 15 when I was in school, and it may have changed to a national "Monday" holiday when I was still in high school. I'm stalling. The things that I want to write are green, and nine days after the most incredible day I don't want to write green, ugly stuff.
Nine days ago I had people treat me like a big star. I know what it's like to be treated like a VIP. It rocks, I hope you all get to experience it, especially for something like a birthday. I hope Barb and Tom, who are are so remarkably generous and selfless and organized and energized, get to find out how much all they do means to others. Renee, I love you! And my email loop, my dad and Libby, everyone who came from all over, including silly Laura N. who came from Philly with a cold and wouldn't come into the house. And all the people who smiled at me when I faced out from my birthday cake, it was the most amazing thing to see. I wanted to frame all of you just like that! Thank you for bringing delicious food, but of course most of all for being there.
For that day I had limitless energy, I could stand the whole time, and I felt no pain. My face even seemed less swollen to me. But it all went so fast and of course I didn't have nearly enough time to spend with anyone, which made me feel guilty on a few different levels. So I was feeling guilty for the people I had invited and those I'd wanted to invite and couldn't, and when I said good-bye and left Barb's I needed some quiet. The next day, when I sadly watched Sally and Renee take their luggage toward departure terminals, I sighed, because you never know when you'll see people again when they leave for home on airplanes.
So I slept for a day, otherwise complaining about this miserable sinus infection, and then I headed to Penn to jump back on the chemo local (wouldn't ever call chemo an express line, that's for sure). I ended up NOT having chemo once again, as Dr. Fox decided he wants me to have two more weeks off. He called it a new plan, but it's one time I have to say I'm a bit concerned about that choice. I know I just had rads a couple weeks ago, but shouldn't I be continually treated with meds? Dr. Fox acted a bit blase about the whole thing, almost like he wanted to make sure I wouldn't get concerned. Which, of course, had the opposite effect. Still, I was feeling sick and ooky, and didn't say very much. I have an abdominal CT scan and chemo scheduled for the 23rd, so for better or worse I should leave the Perlman Center that day feeling like good old patient me.
Update's not over: I would need a bigger blog to complain sufficiently about my sinuses. So my mom found me an ENT (the woman should just become a medical directory, seriously) and got me a quick appointment for last Thursday. I headed there, only to discover traffic everwhere on the road to Jefferson Hospital. Cars had flipped on the Ben Franklin Bridge, cars were broken down on I-95. And I realized as I miserably waited through it, I'd forgotten my ubiquitous water bottle. By the time I got to Jefferson they brought me water and a vomit pan. Thank goodness the water eliminated the need for the pan for once. The nurse sprayed minty stuff into my nose and it cleared out a lot, nice! Then Dr. Rosen came in with this giant scope thing and I was supposed to relax? It hurt. So my next step is a CT scan on my sinuses, too. In the meantime, I'm now on my third antibiotic and I'm still waiting to experience any relief.
It's amazing how you can have a thing like cancer that runs willy nilly all over your body and you can generally go through life with energy and passion. But get some gook in your nose and you're dying. Which is how I feel, a bit. I'm dizzy and tired and my muscles are terribly weak and I don't want to do anything. Those of you who think you shouldn't complain to me because I'm going through a more terrible illness, picture me sitting here with one box of empty tissues that I'm filling with disgusting tissues from the newer box. Because Molly takes all the ones I pile into the trashcan, they're a delicacy to her. And I'm miserably nasal. And the crap is green. And it's ugly. And even though I know I'm not, I feel like I'm fading from the earth because of this mess. You might be able to relate to this ...
Nine days ago I had people treat me like a big star. I know what it's like to be treated like a VIP. It rocks, I hope you all get to experience it, especially for something like a birthday. I hope Barb and Tom, who are are so remarkably generous and selfless and organized and energized, get to find out how much all they do means to others. Renee, I love you! And my email loop, my dad and Libby, everyone who came from all over, including silly Laura N. who came from Philly with a cold and wouldn't come into the house. And all the people who smiled at me when I faced out from my birthday cake, it was the most amazing thing to see. I wanted to frame all of you just like that! Thank you for bringing delicious food, but of course most of all for being there.
For that day I had limitless energy, I could stand the whole time, and I felt no pain. My face even seemed less swollen to me. But it all went so fast and of course I didn't have nearly enough time to spend with anyone, which made me feel guilty on a few different levels. So I was feeling guilty for the people I had invited and those I'd wanted to invite and couldn't, and when I said good-bye and left Barb's I needed some quiet. The next day, when I sadly watched Sally and Renee take their luggage toward departure terminals, I sighed, because you never know when you'll see people again when they leave for home on airplanes.
So I slept for a day, otherwise complaining about this miserable sinus infection, and then I headed to Penn to jump back on the chemo local (wouldn't ever call chemo an express line, that's for sure). I ended up NOT having chemo once again, as Dr. Fox decided he wants me to have two more weeks off. He called it a new plan, but it's one time I have to say I'm a bit concerned about that choice. I know I just had rads a couple weeks ago, but shouldn't I be continually treated with meds? Dr. Fox acted a bit blase about the whole thing, almost like he wanted to make sure I wouldn't get concerned. Which, of course, had the opposite effect. Still, I was feeling sick and ooky, and didn't say very much. I have an abdominal CT scan and chemo scheduled for the 23rd, so for better or worse I should leave the Perlman Center that day feeling like good old patient me.
Update's not over: I would need a bigger blog to complain sufficiently about my sinuses. So my mom found me an ENT (the woman should just become a medical directory, seriously) and got me a quick appointment for last Thursday. I headed there, only to discover traffic everwhere on the road to Jefferson Hospital. Cars had flipped on the Ben Franklin Bridge, cars were broken down on I-95. And I realized as I miserably waited through it, I'd forgotten my ubiquitous water bottle. By the time I got to Jefferson they brought me water and a vomit pan. Thank goodness the water eliminated the need for the pan for once. The nurse sprayed minty stuff into my nose and it cleared out a lot, nice! Then Dr. Rosen came in with this giant scope thing and I was supposed to relax? It hurt. So my next step is a CT scan on my sinuses, too. In the meantime, I'm now on my third antibiotic and I'm still waiting to experience any relief.
It's amazing how you can have a thing like cancer that runs willy nilly all over your body and you can generally go through life with energy and passion. But get some gook in your nose and you're dying. Which is how I feel, a bit. I'm dizzy and tired and my muscles are terribly weak and I don't want to do anything. Those of you who think you shouldn't complain to me because I'm going through a more terrible illness, picture me sitting here with one box of empty tissues that I'm filling with disgusting tissues from the newer box. Because Molly takes all the ones I pile into the trashcan, they're a delicacy to her. And I'm miserably nasal. And the crap is green. And it's ugly. And even though I know I'm not, I feel like I'm fading from the earth because of this mess. You might be able to relate to this ...
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
2013 LOVE
Bear with me, I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing here at 11:28 pm. I can tell you I just spilled my saltwater mixture while gargling with it. How thrilling and stupid and current.
I finished radiation yesterday. I had 15 treatments on the table at Hahnemann, with this netted helmet thing. Over time the helmet didn't fit any longer and they were shoving it on me, asking if I could handle it. My head looks like a giant balloon about to separate from Earth. It's round, kind of purple, and looks nothing like my head. My head, which is now completely bald, probably permanently, and covered with weird spots. I can't say this cancer thing is improving so much. My mouth is so sore I can't taste much of anything, but I keep wanting to eat. It's so unenjoyable. But I keep thinking Chinese food will be incredible.
Riding to Hahnemann five days a week was interesting. I couldn't stop doing things. Every single day, I felt like I had to make some sort of stop in one direction or the other. In the three weeks I had radiation, Jonah's bedroom went from bright yellow to green, white, and Phillies red with a Citizens Bank feel (I hope). I baked three different kinds of cookies, a couple appetizers, and made a ginormous vat of chicken soup for my sinus infection. I've made cornbread twice from scratch. I ran out of gas for the first time. I had my "last" visit at group therapy, where I cried my eyes out to the psychiatrist and ended up having a second LAST visit at group therapy, where my 18-year-old friend said he thinks he personally would love having me as a mom and doesn't understand why my own kid hates me so much.
She's making me so crazy, who needs brain cancer. I can't make sense of her, so I just keep running back and forth in her life making a bigger mess. I try really hard to stay out of her mess, I do, it just doesn't work. I love her, so I make an ass out of myself everyday. It doesn't help that I AM sort of crazy, that I see things, literally, that aren't there and have to make my mind make sense of it. I lose the right side or pages flip repeatedly, and I miss reading. I haven't even tried to read a book in two months. But as for her, is she so unreasonable? She's nice to other people, and she's got that very nice boy who rides his bike here from Jippip. And she eventually did get in the college apps, and the stuff she's asking for isn't bad, like the music department Ohio trip and a high school yearbook. I think if she wasn't trying to smother me, literally, or if she didn't wish me dead on a daily basis we might not be in bad shape.
I think the key right now is that there's no way I'm making sense. Just read this. There's no sense and I'm not making any come out of the blue, that's for sure. So clearly the cancer and Allison are still in my brain. The radiation is supposed to continue to help for like two more months, though. Then Allison turns 18. How do I make any sense of that? Do you think my brain will somehow take over and protect me like it used to do?
I'd really like to live to 2014. I'd never even imagined such a year occurring before, but if I don't make it, I won't see any of my kids graduate from high school. It's not just 2014, it's 2015 when Jason graduates, and 2021 when Jonah dons the gray gown. So I have to figure out how to get healthy. I've made a couple New Years' resolutions, in fact: I'm going to get rid of this sinus infection, even though it means taking two antibiotics at once. I'm going to call Dr. Miller in the morning and do this. I'm going to call the Y tomorrow and get the free cancer membership Jill looked up for me. Then I can swim for three months and I also get a personalized class or something sometimes, and the whole family can go. I have so much muscle weakness from the radiation (and steroids, according to Dr. K), I can barely carry a gallon of milk into the house from the car. In November it was nothing but fun to walk four miles outside, now I struggle to leave bed. I'm going to finish my lovely cherry sours and then avoid sugar forevermore. I should stop eating chocolate chip cookies, too. Hmm, I might start this resolution next week. But I will start next week, that's the trick. I do have my next appointment with Dr. Fox, so I will soon have my bone shot and my chemo and my next abdominal CT. I guess that's not a resolution, because it's not like there's a choice.
I finished radiation yesterday. I had 15 treatments on the table at Hahnemann, with this netted helmet thing. Over time the helmet didn't fit any longer and they were shoving it on me, asking if I could handle it. My head looks like a giant balloon about to separate from Earth. It's round, kind of purple, and looks nothing like my head. My head, which is now completely bald, probably permanently, and covered with weird spots. I can't say this cancer thing is improving so much. My mouth is so sore I can't taste much of anything, but I keep wanting to eat. It's so unenjoyable. But I keep thinking Chinese food will be incredible.
Riding to Hahnemann five days a week was interesting. I couldn't stop doing things. Every single day, I felt like I had to make some sort of stop in one direction or the other. In the three weeks I had radiation, Jonah's bedroom went from bright yellow to green, white, and Phillies red with a Citizens Bank feel (I hope). I baked three different kinds of cookies, a couple appetizers, and made a ginormous vat of chicken soup for my sinus infection. I've made cornbread twice from scratch. I ran out of gas for the first time. I had my "last" visit at group therapy, where I cried my eyes out to the psychiatrist and ended up having a second LAST visit at group therapy, where my 18-year-old friend said he thinks he personally would love having me as a mom and doesn't understand why my own kid hates me so much.
She's making me so crazy, who needs brain cancer. I can't make sense of her, so I just keep running back and forth in her life making a bigger mess. I try really hard to stay out of her mess, I do, it just doesn't work. I love her, so I make an ass out of myself everyday. It doesn't help that I AM sort of crazy, that I see things, literally, that aren't there and have to make my mind make sense of it. I lose the right side or pages flip repeatedly, and I miss reading. I haven't even tried to read a book in two months. But as for her, is she so unreasonable? She's nice to other people, and she's got that very nice boy who rides his bike here from Jippip. And she eventually did get in the college apps, and the stuff she's asking for isn't bad, like the music department Ohio trip and a high school yearbook. I think if she wasn't trying to smother me, literally, or if she didn't wish me dead on a daily basis we might not be in bad shape.
I think the key right now is that there's no way I'm making sense. Just read this. There's no sense and I'm not making any come out of the blue, that's for sure. So clearly the cancer and Allison are still in my brain. The radiation is supposed to continue to help for like two more months, though. Then Allison turns 18. How do I make any sense of that? Do you think my brain will somehow take over and protect me like it used to do?
I'd really like to live to 2014. I'd never even imagined such a year occurring before, but if I don't make it, I won't see any of my kids graduate from high school. It's not just 2014, it's 2015 when Jason graduates, and 2021 when Jonah dons the gray gown. So I have to figure out how to get healthy. I've made a couple New Years' resolutions, in fact: I'm going to get rid of this sinus infection, even though it means taking two antibiotics at once. I'm going to call Dr. Miller in the morning and do this. I'm going to call the Y tomorrow and get the free cancer membership Jill looked up for me. Then I can swim for three months and I also get a personalized class or something sometimes, and the whole family can go. I have so much muscle weakness from the radiation (and steroids, according to Dr. K), I can barely carry a gallon of milk into the house from the car. In November it was nothing but fun to walk four miles outside, now I struggle to leave bed. I'm going to finish my lovely cherry sours and then avoid sugar forevermore. I should stop eating chocolate chip cookies, too. Hmm, I might start this resolution next week. But I will start next week, that's the trick. I do have my next appointment with Dr. Fox, so I will soon have my bone shot and my chemo and my next abdominal CT. I guess that's not a resolution, because it's not like there's a choice.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Crazy
My group therapy is winding down. I was supposed to be finished, but during my last session I was called to a final meeting with the psychiatrist and unexpectedly couldn't handle it. I cried my eyes out about my current situation. I'd realized I'd been exceptionally angry, I guess without knowing what was behind it. The headaches, the nausea, the fear, the steroid bloating, the lack of control over my existence. I needed the cry, but the result was the decision that I needed to actually deal with the cancer for once instead of parenting. Of course my health insurance would only pay for two more visits, and one of those was today. I did not take advantage of whatever I was supposed to do, I dealt with other parenting issues. The anger makes parenting difficult, and brain cancer makes parenting difficult, and I'm making some mistakes I don't like.
I love my daughter. From the second she was born there was a bond like no other. I couldn't take my eyes or my fingers off of her. Everything about her reflected perfection, and for two years I thought she was perfect. She's not. Far from it. And yet I love her and I will until the day I die. Who knows: maybe if I didn't worship her we'd have a relationship. That's part of my crazy, I guess. I want to know she'll be okay when I'm gone. No regrets. And I can't assure it. It makes me angry.
Waiting makes me crazy, bad traffic makes me crazy, slow people make me crazy. But Wegman's makes me happy, especially when they have rotisserie chicken soup and my throat is sore. I want to do lots of things, but without a big giant round face. I miss looking like me. And I miss reading.
Having cancer in my brain is so weird. I feel irrational, but I think I'm scattered just because I'm trying to figure it all out. I function like normal except for feeling tired and weak. I'm very much enjoying my rest, but all the same I'm pushing myself to get extra things done. Especially during this holiday season. I get a light headache on occasion, and heartburn and nausea if I miss my steroid by even an hour. The biggest problem is the worry of the something new and the unknown. Really, I need to lighten up and I just don't know how.
Could you please tell me what I need to do? I want to get everything perfect and I want to get strong. How do I do that?
I love my daughter. From the second she was born there was a bond like no other. I couldn't take my eyes or my fingers off of her. Everything about her reflected perfection, and for two years I thought she was perfect. She's not. Far from it. And yet I love her and I will until the day I die. Who knows: maybe if I didn't worship her we'd have a relationship. That's part of my crazy, I guess. I want to know she'll be okay when I'm gone. No regrets. And I can't assure it. It makes me angry.
Waiting makes me crazy, bad traffic makes me crazy, slow people make me crazy. But Wegman's makes me happy, especially when they have rotisserie chicken soup and my throat is sore. I want to do lots of things, but without a big giant round face. I miss looking like me. And I miss reading.
Having cancer in my brain is so weird. I feel irrational, but I think I'm scattered just because I'm trying to figure it all out. I function like normal except for feeling tired and weak. I'm very much enjoying my rest, but all the same I'm pushing myself to get extra things done. Especially during this holiday season. I get a light headache on occasion, and heartburn and nausea if I miss my steroid by even an hour. The biggest problem is the worry of the something new and the unknown. Really, I need to lighten up and I just don't know how.
Could you please tell me what I need to do? I want to get everything perfect and I want to get strong. How do I do that?
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Journal Day
I'm participating in a focus interview. I think I mentioned it last week, how it was so encompassing and I ended up panicking about it more than a bit. As part of the research I have to keep a journal, and I have to videotape certain things in my life that connect me to breast cancer. Last week I videotaped my book club dinner, because I was having my glass of wine and everyone looked so beautiful and happy. Today I videotaped myself with Jill in Center City after radiation. So they could see Jill's beautiful hair, which is so similar to the beautiful hair I miss.
Now it's time to journal. My first trip to Hahnemann was on Thursday, where I got a course of action for whole head radiation. I will have 15 treatments, five days a week, and then be finished and return to Dr. Fox. On Friday I was fitted for a helmet. I have to try to get a picture of this thing, it's interesting. It's like a net that was molded to the front of my head using just warm water. The techs put tape and measuring devices on it during the treatments. It's not at all uncomfortable, honestly. The treatments are quick and have a taste, like raw peas. I pray that means they're working. The Hahnemann techs are as sweet as I remember and greet me with hugs. I think it's Dr. Komarnicky's influence. She's that sweet.
Just before starting treatment on Monday I had what a 1960s sitcom character would refer to as an episode. I was working on room parent stuff on Sunday night when the right side of the computer stopped working on my brain. I believed it was still there, but there was no way I could make my head see it. Worse, I stubbornly refused to give up my task until the "episode" passed, so I typed half blind, somewhat embarrassed at what mistakes I might have been unable to hide. For the record, the snowman craft is fine and the soup thing sounds great, whatever it is. After however much time elapsed the vision disturbance passed and I was left with a lightly piercing pain behind my left eye, not at all unsimilar to some sinus pains. But somehow more manageable. The final result was that I was unable to fall asleep that night. I am still unsure whether I was afraid to fall asleep or chemically disturbed, or what. I made up for the sleep last night, though. I was so tired. I'm tired now, which was/is expected.
I'm still suffering quite a lot of tears about my recent developments. Despite what I endure I want to LIVE my life, and that means making changes when necessary. Some of my changes are quite difficult if not impossible to make, and yet I feel so compelled to try I will not give up, I vow. Things people put off doing for years because things get in the way, and eventually the things will just keep getting in the way and the changes still have to get done. Maybe if I had time I'd still put off what I need to do, but I feel I lose that luxury a bit more everyday by now.
My birthday is now in less than a month. I'm turning 46, more than halfway to 50. My cousin Ted once pointed out that if we Sterbakovs can make it out of our 40s we're good. So that's my goal! Thanks, Ted. Renee is coming to visit for my birthday. She read my blog last week and bought a plane ticket so she can make me a party. I'm having a party! Fun!
Now it's time to journal. My first trip to Hahnemann was on Thursday, where I got a course of action for whole head radiation. I will have 15 treatments, five days a week, and then be finished and return to Dr. Fox. On Friday I was fitted for a helmet. I have to try to get a picture of this thing, it's interesting. It's like a net that was molded to the front of my head using just warm water. The techs put tape and measuring devices on it during the treatments. It's not at all uncomfortable, honestly. The treatments are quick and have a taste, like raw peas. I pray that means they're working. The Hahnemann techs are as sweet as I remember and greet me with hugs. I think it's Dr. Komarnicky's influence. She's that sweet.
Just before starting treatment on Monday I had what a 1960s sitcom character would refer to as an episode. I was working on room parent stuff on Sunday night when the right side of the computer stopped working on my brain. I believed it was still there, but there was no way I could make my head see it. Worse, I stubbornly refused to give up my task until the "episode" passed, so I typed half blind, somewhat embarrassed at what mistakes I might have been unable to hide. For the record, the snowman craft is fine and the soup thing sounds great, whatever it is. After however much time elapsed the vision disturbance passed and I was left with a lightly piercing pain behind my left eye, not at all unsimilar to some sinus pains. But somehow more manageable. The final result was that I was unable to fall asleep that night. I am still unsure whether I was afraid to fall asleep or chemically disturbed, or what. I made up for the sleep last night, though. I was so tired. I'm tired now, which was/is expected.
I'm still suffering quite a lot of tears about my recent developments. Despite what I endure I want to LIVE my life, and that means making changes when necessary. Some of my changes are quite difficult if not impossible to make, and yet I feel so compelled to try I will not give up, I vow. Things people put off doing for years because things get in the way, and eventually the things will just keep getting in the way and the changes still have to get done. Maybe if I had time I'd still put off what I need to do, but I feel I lose that luxury a bit more everyday by now.
My birthday is now in less than a month. I'm turning 46, more than halfway to 50. My cousin Ted once pointed out that if we Sterbakovs can make it out of our 40s we're good. So that's my goal! Thanks, Ted. Renee is coming to visit for my birthday. She read my blog last week and bought a plane ticket so she can make me a party. I'm having a party! Fun!
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