Tough News, Good Thoughts

I didn't get the news I hoped for yesterday. There are some new questionable spots lighting up on my PET Scan. We are working on digesting the news and formulating a plan. Thank you for continuing to keep good thoughts for me.

Let's Do This Thang

I once again feel very, very good. Last night I actually paused to check if I was still breathing because I was breathing with so much ease. I have no fullness in my chest and no twinge over my heart when I breathe deeply. I've made a full recovery since the cold that sent me down into the depths of fear. My mood and outlook are a million times better, and I am again completely focused on moving forward. Tomorrow will be an important part of that movement: my Day +133 PET Scan – the one we bumped from last week.

I'm pretty psyched up for it rather than psyched out. This has never happened. Of course I still have plenty of anxiety and worry, but I feel as confident as I think is possible going into one of these things. I feel ready: Let's do this thang. Maybe that's why I had a rough patch there. I knew there was something else going on and didn't want to spoil results. I'm now much more ready to handle those results – whichever way they might swing. I feel fantastic by my standards and that's what matters.

Worried Sick

I feel as if I’ve squandered away the past week. I completely bowed down to the tremendous anxiety and stress that today’s looming PET Scan was causing me. And after all of that fretting, my oncologist and I decided to postpone the scan – as well as my appointment with the transplant team – until next week. I contracted some kind of cold/flu and we do not want to risk a false positive reading on my scan results.

Whether I picked up a germy somewhere or I got myself sick with stress, I came down with a whopping sore throat, chills, feveryness, aches and tremendous fatigue this past weekend. I convinced myself that it was DoomsDay. I worried and worried and worried and worried about all the scenarios:

Conclusion A: I’d never recover from the virus I’d contracted and it would find a way to eat me alive

Conclusion B: Hodgkin’s Disease was flaring on the rise, for sure, so fast that my new immune system would never be able to catch it

Conclusion C: I re-broke my foot, as it was so achey, along with the rest of me. A piece of bone must have dislodged and was floating through me ready to nest in my brain and cause me to hemorrhage (so obvious)

All of these scenarios were evils that I manifested then couldn’t handle comprehending. I completely lost control and surrendered, basically digging myself a grave these past few days. I conceded defeat and moaned and groaned the days away just wishing I could get to today to have my damn PET Scan that would seal my fate. That is not like me, and I hated it.

By Bike and Boat I Go

My broken foot is now in an air cast that is worn with a sneaker allowing me more flexibility and more opportunity for sporty activities. Of course I latched onto this news with zeal.

After examining an X-Ray of my foot bone last week, my orthopedic doctor told me that I could start using a stationary bicycle while using the stirrup air cast for support.

“How about a real bike?” I asked him.

“Just don’t fall off,” he replied, warning that sometimes people find that their balance is shaky after being off of one foot for so long.

Day +119 Recovery Update

Last week’s check-up at Sloan-Kettering was the smoothest that I’ve had yet. A friend’s mother’s best friend, Renee, picked me up from my home and drove me all the way into Manhattan. We hit no traffic on the way in and very minimal on the way home – a rarity. The smooth nearly seven-hour roundtrip commute allowed me the opportunity to get to know this incredibly giving woman who offered up her day and escort services to help out a near stranger. She incorporated a lunch visit with a friend while I took care of medical business.

I completed the drooly, spitty, alienish process that is the monthly Pantamadine breathing treatment to prevent against PCP pneumonia. After I removed the misting pipe from my mouth and was unzipped from my human size plastic bag they lock me in to hold in the medicinal excrement, I was ushered to my next part of the appointment.

Day +110 Recovery Update

With one of my best friends, Meredith, at her 

recent engagement party.

My foot is still broken, which means it’s still in a walking boot. I have been toting around an extra 1.5 pounds for three weeks now. There is a lot of Velcro strap tightening involved and a lot of heel-toe hobbling. However, like Forrest Gump, I have shed the crutches. I just won’t be running to the West Coast anytime soon. Instead, like my favorite Jersey Shore gorilla, Ronnie: “Every Day I’m Shuffling.” Cue club music.

I return to the orthopedic doc tomorrow to check on the bone healing process. I can just about put full weight on it now so I expect he’ll say that it’s healing well. This is a far cry from several weeks ago when I could not go up even our shallow porch stairs and in order to bathe, I had to sit in a plastic patio chair that Craig squeezed into the shower tub for me. I’ve been consuming a lot of soy protein and started up on Calcium plus Vitamin D supplements in addition to my multivitamin, folic acid and Magnesium that I’m already on per post-transplant needs.

Dietary Negotiations

“So now that I’ve essentially reached 100 days, do any of my diet restrictions loosen up?” I asked Dr. Sauter at my Day +98 check-up.

“Now we’ve reached the point when it’s time for negotiating,” replied Dr. Sauter. “What is it that you want to eat?” he asked me playfully.

Oh no. The pressure of this immense decision! I have to pick something that’s worth it and can’t push the requests too much or I’ll lose my bargaining power. Must make this a good one. Out came the first thing on my mind – something that’s been on my mind since getting out of the hospital: