Archive for the 'Cancer' Category

Okay, Call Off the Dogs

September 19th, 2006

Wow, a month can go by pretty quickly when you’re not paying attention. Let’s see how quickly I can get you folks caught up.

In my last post, I thought I’d be admitted to the hospital later that day. I was right. After a nuclear medicine study of my lungs and an echocardiogram, I was eventually admitted to the hospital. The primary reason for the admission was because SuperCoop wanted to have a CT of my chest done with contrast (aka x-ray dye). This stuff is iodine based and rough on the kidneys, which isn’t good when you’ve recently had renal failure. Thus, he wanted me in the hospital so they could overhydrate me and give me a drug called mucomyst, which helps protect the kidneys.

Long story short, I was in the hospital for six days and all they could come up with was a little pneumonia. In addition to the echo, nuc med and CT studies, I also had an MRI of my C-Spine and T-Spine (neck and upper back). Turns out I have a slipped disk around T-5 T-6 or T-6 T-7. Maybe it was T-7 T-8. Anyways, it was apparently an old injury but interesting to learn. Not quite worth the fifty minutes straight in the MRI tube, however.

Oh, and I got to meet with the radiation therapy folks who did my simulation on Friday (a CT exam that lets them figure out where they’re going to aim the radiation). I then receive three tiny tattoos in the form of black dots.

Immediately upon leaving the hospital that Saturday, Barb took me home so I could shower the hospital off me. Then we went to Moe’s Grill for a burrito and stopped by the movie theater to see Little Miss Sunshine. Great afternoon and the way everyone should get to leave the hospital.

The next week or two I was pretty depressed. Not sad depressed so much, but a combination of blah depressed and “don’t feel like doing anything” depressed. Unfortunately for you folks, that means no web updating.

Two Thursdays ago (9/7), I started developing a pain in my left shoulder. Initially it just felt like I slept on it wrong, but by Sunday it had progressed to an unrelenting stabbing pain down through the top of my shoulder. Put your hand on your shoulder. Not there – more between your shoulder and your neck. You know how you can sort of feel the gap in the bones there? That’s where the pain was.

Last Monday the radiation folks look me over and say it’s not ’cause of them, since this is out of the radiation field. Unfortunately, they don’t have the power to order random x-rays and such over at the hospital, so they recommend I go through the ER. Incidentally, everyone at Yale calls it the “ED,” which I know stands for “Emergency Department” (after having the first person who used this acronym repeat it three or four times), but it’s still wrong. An ER is an ER, not an ED. If anything is an ED, I would say a school is. Especially if it’s special.

Anyway, I go over to the ER and they zip me right in again (let’s hear it for cancer!). They take a chest x-ray and think they see some pneumonia. Guess who’s going back in the hospital. This time I’m in there for four days. This time was quite exciting because the floor just got brand new beds.

It really sucks that I know this.

After I had been there for a couple of hours, SuperCoop comes in the room, eyes all agoggle. “What are you doing here?”

I figure he’s joking and start gushing at length about the cool new bed (it was quite impressive after the clunkers they used to have, believe me) (still depressing). He stops me as I’m showing him how the head of the bed goes up and down silently to say, “No seriously – what are you doing here?”

Turns out the ER folks had been talking to SuperCoop’s fellows, who had neglected to relay to him that his star patient was causing trouble again. He was on the floor making his rounds and just happened to notice that my name was on one of the doors. Comforting.

So after four days and a few more random tests, I leave the hospital minus the shoulder pain and any knowledge as to why it might have occurred. It just stopped around the third day (same day I had a shoulder MRI), so they figured they couldn’t hold me there any longer. Damn straight.

So now I’ve decided that if anything hurts or feels weird I’m not telling anybody. Every time I do, I wind up in the hospital for a week. I’ve also decided that I looooooove dilaudid (aka hydromorphone). Up until this point, I’ve had a lot of different pain meds and I’ve remained puzzled that people get addicted to them. I’ve had morphine, percocet, darvocet and a lot of other pills you hear about suburban wives getting hooked on. As soon as I stopped hurting, I stopped the pills, no problem. No desire whatsoever to continue. After this stuff though, I understand. Aside from twisting my reality a quarter turn and knocking me on my ass, it left a definite impression in my brain that I liked what just transpired and would be quite happy to have it transpire again. Scary stuff.

Skip forward to today. I have four more radiation treatments (out of an original 20) as of today’s treatment – Monday will be my last one. I have a little bit of a sunburn on my chest and back where the radiation shoots through, but my skin’s been holding up pretty well thanks to early glooping of Aquaphor on the affected areas. Internally, I’ve been having some esophagus troubles. Originally, this consisted of a burning feeling right around the esophagus/stomach juncture. Now it’s turned into more of an indigestion feeling which sometimes morphs into… Have you ever swallowed wrong and it feels like your esophagus either gets a knot or swallows backwards? That’s kind of what it feels like. Often. But not enough to really bother me – just annoy me.

I think that does it. Today’s been a better day than usual – I replaced one of the headlights on my truck and got a spare key made for the house after locking myself out this morning. Idiot. That’s been safely hidden (no one looks under mats, right?) and my squirrels have been fed. You think I haven’t written here in a long time – it’s been even longer since I’ve fed my poor little furry buddies. They were going apeshit today over the piles of peanuts that suddenly appeared all over the deck. Eventually I’ll get around to taking some photos.

So, that brings you all up to date. Aside from locking my keys in the house, this has felt like a pretty good day, so hopefully that bodes well for keeping the blog up to date. Hopefully.

Might be Going Away Again

August 21st, 2006

Figured I should put up a quick post since I think there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to be back in the hospital today. I don’t know if it’ll make any sense, since I’ve been whacked out on pain meds since yesterday and I’m still a little loopy/shaky.

Thursday when I saw SuperCoop, I had started having some chest pain. It was primarily in my sternum and felt a lot like the old Neupogen/Neulasta type of bone pain. It would appear rather randomly, though elevation changes (going from standing to sitting to lying down) would usually bring it about. I initially felt it was probably just my brain causing the pain, since that’s the area we were going to be discussing. I told Dr. Kang about it at the start of the appointment, then didn’t think of it again after he asked me some questions and did some poking around.

Friday was the same as Thursday, though maybe slightly worse. Saturday was horrible. I tried to put up with it for as long as I could, but it was too much. It had gotten to the point where if I was sitting up in bed and slid down a little, it would hurt. My cough also started getting much worse as well. The pain is a throbbing sort of pain that seems to be tied in with a really strong/hard heartbeat. You know how you can feel your heart pounding after you’ve held your breath for a long time? That’s the heartbeat thing. Imagine having that happen to you after your sternum’s been broken open and you’ll have an idea of what this is like.

Aside from the elevation changes, by the afternoon the pain was happening to me at random times when I wasn’t moving. We called the oncology fellow and he had us go to the ER. You want to get a private bed super fast in the ER? Be a post-stem cell transplant patient with chest pain. Not only do you get hooked up, everyone listens to you.

They took some blood and blood cultures and a chest x-ray. Everything came back normal. The doc came back in and said SuperCoop wanted to see me Monday morning. We walk out of the ER and suddenly my chest feels better. As Barb will attest, I did a lot of cursing at that point, as it seemed my stupid brain had indeed been pulling one over on me. I was miffed to say the least. Then, around 11:00 at night, the pain started coming back.

I woke up around 3 AM in searing agony. In addition to the whole chest thing, my left arm (that I was lying on) felt like it had been ripped out of the socket and poorly reattached. The coughing was worse, which didn’t help the chest or the arm. I finally found some of my pain pills and started popping them down. They don’t completely take the pain away, but at least make it less frequent.

Sunday was pretty much complete hell all day long. I couldn’t really sit comfortably or lie down comfortably or stand comfortably or walk… you get the idea. In addition, my head’s in the clouds from the drugs and my arms and legs are all wobbly. The pain at this point seems to be all around my chest cavitiy – back, front, shoulders, sides – if I cough or burp or breathe, different parts shoot pain through my body.

So yeah, today I’m pretty messed up and I’m getting ready to go see SuperCoop. Something bad is going on inside me and I don’t know what – I can only hope that they’ll know at the hospital. I’m figuring that they might hold me there ’til they get it all figured out or that this might be some kind of infection (can the lining of your lungs get inflamed and infected?) for which they’ll need to pump me full of IV antibiotics. Whee.

Mom and Dad – I’ll give you a call later tonight to let you know the verdict and where you’ll be able to find me. Everyone else, I’ll be back to posting whenever I’m back to posting.

The Groundhog Appears

August 18th, 2006

Hey gang

Sorry I’ve been quiet lately – I saw that there was some franticness a bit earlier before Barb stepped in with an update. We’ve gotten to another one of those tired spots, where we realize we’ve been in a constant fight for fifteen months and a sporadic fight for a couple of years beforehand. We’re both getting tired and worn out, but The End is Near. No, not that End – the good End.

I think today is Day +37. I’m a bad SCT patient, ’cause I’ve never been able to keep up with my days. Makes sense though, since most of the times I can’t keep track of the days or dates. I saw SuperCoop and he says I’m ready for radiation. I got a call from the rad onc’s office a little bit ago and I’ll be seeing him on Tuesday. It’s either Dr. Rogers or Dr. Roberts, I would assume that depends on how beautiful Tuesday is in his neighborhood.

The actual results for that PET I had in the hospital were in, and said pretty much what SuperCoop told us – other than the kidney problems at the time, no Hodge was showing up. No talk of NED or remission or the like, but they agreed that the alien is gone. Not a whole lot of celebrating in the room, primarily because SuperCoop had already mentioned this and after going through surgery, it had better not be showing up. Plus SuperCoop was a little miffed that the thoracic oncologist got all the credit. “It says it’s gone after the surgery, but I gave you chemo afterwards to get rid of the stuff he missed and I don’t even get a mention!” I did notice that he was mentioned as being there looking over their shoulder while they read it, though I believe the phrase “pain in our ass” was redacted. SuperCoop’s the Man.

So now I just wait for Tuesday to see what/when happens next. My tastebuds are still majorly out of whack, but I discovered last night that Eggo’s taste good, so I’ll be burning myself out on those pretty soon. The homestyle flavor, not any of those fancy city-boy flavors like blueberry and whatnot.

So far, other than the mental struggle, that’s been the worst thing about the SCT experience – the tastebuds. They’re so screwed up it’s hard for me to eat, so I don’t get any energy, so I’m weak, so even when I feel up to eating, I’m too tired to do anything about it. If I could just get the food thing going, I’m sure I’d already be over this – it’s just at this point, I can feel the little bit of energy I have drain out of my arms and legs when I try to do things. Everyone says I need to force myself to eat, but there are very very few of those everyone who know what this is actually like.

The one thing I’ve found that’s consistently good to eat – Taco Bell crunchy tacos. Go figure. So far I haven’t burned myself out on those, but I am getting to the point where I can’t look at sweet or sour stuff anymore.

Since I feel like I’m just rambling at this point anyway, I’ll bring up my latest eye exam from the day before yesterday. The band of color I was seeing has mostly faded away, though I’m still seeing the arc in my right eye. I saw Dr. Portela, retina fella (if that didn’t make you laugh, say it out loud), and she said the spots they saw in my right retina a couple of weeks ago are getting smaller. They still don’t know if that’s the cause of the band or what else might have caused it if it isn’t, but at least things seem to be improving. This time I wait a month before a re-check.

So there you have it – the latest on me. Now I’m going to go crawl back in my little cave for awhile again. I’m sorry I’m not posting more, but I’m a little too tired to censor myself, and I’m afraid of letting out something bitter and angry in my current mood. You all know how that goes – good days and bad. So, once I have another good day or Tuesday arrives, I’ll be seeing you again…

She Blinded Me With Science

August 4th, 2006

(and lights)

Today was a busy busy day. Well, it didn’t start off that way. I spent most of the morning watching my Arrested Development DVDs, the best comedy show ever put on a network. Then suddenly after lunch, a transport person shows up to take me for my EEG. Sweet!

I packed up all of my stealables and hopped on the stretcher. You have to be taken on a stretcher to an EEG in case you have a seizure while you’re down there. I guess that way it’s easier to push you out into the street.

As we left the floor, each nurse’s station had at least one of my many doctors at it, who all waved and asked if I was going for my EEG. Okay, so maybe I groused a little about being stood up yesterday. Who wouldn’t? I asked the transport guy if it was a bad thing that every desk we passed had one of my doctors. Before he could reply, SuperCoop came down the hall toward us as well. I’m POPular

At the last desk, I met a first year opthamology resident who was going to be looking into my eyes. She stopped us and asked a couple of quick questions, then put some numbing and dilation drops in my eyes so I’d be ready for her after the EEG.

We finally made it downstairs, where I made the EEG tech’s day by being bald. Much easier to place all of the electrodes on skin than on hair. The worst for them are the in-betweeners: the chemo patients who are just starting to lose their hair and haven’t shaved yet. Talk about embarassing for both parties involved.

The exam itself was pleasant for the most part, just lying there on the stretcher with my eyes closed and breathing calmly. Then came the end portion with the Flashing Light From Hell. They were either testing my epileptic response or my patience tolerance. The thing would flash like crazy at me through my closed eyes, then I would have to open them. Are you kidding me? Then she’d speed it up. Repeat. And faster. And faster. I felt like I was in Willy Wonka’s boat ride.

The eye resident followed me downstairs and started doing some examining while we waiting for me to go back upstairs. This primarily consisted of shining lots of lights in my eyes. Then we get back up to my room. She closes the curtains, shuts the door, dims the lights… and shines more bright lights in my eyes. Only this time, she’s got this magnifying glass thing like you use to fry ants on the sidewalk! When she left, I was seeing everything through a hot pink fog. Psychedelic, man.

I called Barb to let her know what had been happening for the past few hours and the eye resident stuck her head back in to tell me she was going to take me to the eye clinic to have more people look at my eyes. Great.

We make it to the eye center and she gives a third year resident a call so he can come take a look at me. In the meantime, she looks at my eyes again using the real equipment, rather than the handheld stuff. She also finally sees my ols corneal scar this way. You see, I was a forceps baby at birth and the doc scratched my eye and the surrounding areas when he yanked me out. As I had told her earlier, this is my test when I go to a new optometrist. If he sees it, I stay. If he doesn’t, I move on down the list.

So third year gets there and starts looking at me with the wicked bright lights. Right off the bat: “Were you a forceps baby?” You’re hired, Mr. Third Year. At least that’s what I thought until he started poking me in the eyes. First he’s looking at me with the bright light and the ant-killing magnifying glass, then he’s got a stick in his other hand that he’s using to press in on my eyeball!

What are two things that eye doctors always tell you not to do? Don’t stare into the sun and don’t press your fingers into your eye sockets. Do as I say, not as I do.

So after he’s looked for awhile and confirmed first year’s findings, they go outside the room to call the retina resident fellow. As they’re doing so, they run into the actual retina specialty honest-to-goodness doctor. Apparently, it’s been awhile since third year has been in her presence, so they’re outside catching up for awhile.

There’s a reason I like dogs – I understand them. When I get bored and I’m feeling ignored or forgotten, I act out and occasionally get myself into trouble. This time, I was safe on the trouble part. I was exceedingly bored and forgotten, so I started playing with all of the equipment. I was in a typical eye exam chair with all of those neat opthamologic devices right in front of me. What else could I be expected to do?

So I pulled that light torture device to me first. Not much of interest. There was the joystick thing they play around with, but without the light being on, I couldn’t see what I was moving. Then I moved to the real treat – the superhero mask with all the little lenses. That kept me entertained for quite awhile. I really enjoyed flipping around that little “Is one better or two?” lens they’re always playing with. There’s all kinds of dials for them to play with over there. Next time you’re left alone at the eye doctor’s, give it a looksee.

Eventually, they all come in to the room (but not after I accidentally flicked all of the lights on and off. Honest, it was a power surge. I saw nothing.) and I find out who’s been taking up the resident’s time. Turns out, it’s basically the head of the clinic. Sweet! She gives me a quick exam and agrees with what the residents were seeing. The funny thing is, each one of them did the same exams, but as you went up the experience ladder, each one was faster.

Okay, I’ve kept you in suspense for enough time – the results. Basically, they can’t see anything that would definitively be causing the spots I’m seeing. They can see the floaters I have, but that’s something different. They also see two white spots in my right retina. I believe they called them something along the lines of “cotton balls.” I almost replied “nylon ass!” but was too intrigued to interject. Plus, everyone was still pink.

So these white spots could be caused by any number of things, but they think the most likely scenario is from me being anemic and neutropenic after the SCT. They want me to come in to their retina clinic on Monday morning so the fellow can take a look in my eyes with bright lights and poky sticks and they’ll also take a photograph of my retinae so they can see how they change over time. Basically, the cure for these white spots is to wait it out. Once whatever caused them is fixed, then they’ll eventually go away.

I received some great and glorious news when I returned to my room – I’m getting out tomorrow! They said if I really wanted, they could rush things and get me out tonight, but they’d prefer it if I stayed on through the night. For once, I’m not going completely apeshit in here, and I think that’s primarily due to this here laptop. Thanks again for letting me borrow it, Sue – you’ve saved my sanity, such as it is.

So tomorrow morning at some point I get to go home and see if we can do things right this time. Yay!

Did I Mention I Was SOATS? Part 3

August 4th, 2006

Okay, I have my Rice Krispies in me, so let’s see what else we have to cover here. If you need to catch up, scroll down for parts 1 & 2.

The neurology team has been by a few times, specifically the oncology neurologist. They’re interested both in the spots I’m seeing and some of my more interesting pre-cancer history. They’ve done all kinds of neurology tests and tricks (spell “world” backwards) and at some point I’m supposed to be getting an EEG. Yesterday, the nurse stopped by at 1:30 and said I’d be having the exam in a few minutes. Since Barb was here, I had her take the laptop and various other stealables back to her office. The EEG never happened. I was going bonkers by the time the dinner trays got here. At that point, I was ready to refuse to go – they can make me wait, but they can’t make me miss food. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up.

So theoretically today I’ll be getting an EEG. We’ll see. I’m also supposed to be seeing a retina doctor at some point today as well. This should be interesting.

Let’s see, what else is happening with me? The cough is still there, though getting a little better. Previously, I would cough when I changed positions (lying to sitting, sitting to standing, etc), laughed or talked for too long. Now it just happens at random. I’m having occasional headaches, pounding like migraines, but not as consistently there. Like, I’ll feel okay just lying there, but if I sit up or cough, WHAMMO!

They did half of a sputum sample test on me the other day. Respiratory comes down and makes you breath in some noxious vapors for half an hour. These vapors make your lungs produce some mucous, which you can then spit up into a cup for them. Lovely, right? This is to see if I have PCP pneumonia, the big ugly one that affects people with suppressed immune systems. It’s one of the main things that historically kills AIDS patients, for example.

So the test itself is performed twice, two mornings in a row. However, the second day was the day after my kidney biopsy and the docs all thought it would be a bad idea to intentionally make me cough and hack for an hour. They called off the second day, so I don’t know if we’ll get half the results, or if we just have to do the whole thing again. We’ll see.

Okay, I know there’s a lot more that’s been happening, but it’s not coming to me right now. I’ll just have to sit and ponder a bit as I wait again for an EEG. In the meantime, know that my condition has improved greatly and everyone is still astounded at how healthy I look.

So, I’ve got that going for me.



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