Fingers Crossed
Originally published at bcvsbc.blogspot.com on 08/17/18
It's early (2:30 am), or late, depending on your perspective. On the morning of round 5 for me it is early. I have been attempting to sleep for hours but decided to give it up and jump on here to clear my head. You would think that after doing this four times I would be less anxious, yet each time I am at this same crossroad, of fear and anticipation. Fear because I know how bad I am going to feel after getting the medicine and anticipation because I know it is the best chance of giving me a very long life. It is an odd mix of emotions that I think really only someone that has gone through this can honestly understand. I know before this I had nothing to use as perspective and never imagined how strong people that get cancer have to be. It's a little bit taxing to say the least.
As with every round I have my blood drawn 24 hours prior to the infusion so that was done yesterday. I really felt pretty good this time around. The majority of my bruising seemed to come early in cycle four, there were less nose bleeds, and I didn't notice any random additional bleeding. Truthfully I thought my blood work was going to come back better than last time based on that. Regrettably it came back worse.
Last time my platelets were at 115 which was low but not terrible. If the number gets to 70 or below we have to post pone chemo to let my body recover longer. Essentially it means my bone marrow isn't able to produce enough healthy blood cells to keep my body in a safe zone. My number yesterday was 71...not good. On top of that my red and white blood counts are not good either. It seems that my anemia is getting worse even with all the different ways I have tried to bolster them through diet. Not gonna lie it is a little bit depressing.
In my head I know that I have no control over the numbers I am reading on my blood tests but I feel like I am some how letting myself down. I try to give my body pep talks, it is the competitive athlete in me I think and the knowledge that our mind is our most powerful muscle, but I am frustrated that mine is too weak to force the numbers higher. Insert a long deep sigh here.
Of course as I washing dishes after dinner a pair of tongs snapped and cut the middle of my palm. Seriously this cut was minuscule but bleed like I severed an artery. Ah-Ha moment, my platelets have literally given up the fight so to get it to stop bleeding I had to crazy glue the skin back together.
This week I also met with my oncologist regarding the random "spells" I have had and swelling. After a lengthy discussion we both decided it was best for us to not change or add anything to my regiment. From her perspective a water pill is not going to remove the problem because it is a side effect from one of my chemo drugs. I might get a small reduction in the amount of swelling but it wouldn't go back to normal. Another option was to decrease the drug causing the swelling but it is the most effective one I am on at killing cancer cells. If we were decrease it so close to being done there would be a slightly higher chance at reoccuracne. Ultimately it was my decision and I chose to not change anything. This was a hard decision to make because I had to willing say, "yes please give me cankles, a slight limp, no pants that fit but cropped yoga pants, and stretch out my favorite flip flops to never fit again." On the opposite side I am increasing my chance at life. It sucks but it is an easy(ish) decision to make.
This post might sound like I am in a deep dark place, I'm not. What I have come to realize is that you have to just accept this, all of it. There is no good physical side effect from getting cancer. I know that I am going to feel awful. It is hard, but I am accepting the new level of energy I have...none. Though it is hard I am embracing my continuing transformation into my father (balding head, gray hair that keeps growing and won't lay down, legs that swell just like his, and no I don't want to borrow your compression socks dad). The fact that I wake up with a new bruise somewhere and stiff painful leg muscles like an elderly woman is anticipated. It is getting harder and harder to remember how easy life was four months ago, and life really was.
One thing cancer does do is remind you how precious life is. I look at my family and am more thankful than I ever knew possible. In fact the other day I was talking to a friend that lost his wife to cancer. We were discussing how you gain an elevated level of knowledge in so many areas of life when you and your spouse go through this. I told him I remember meeting Scott and falling in love with him thinking, there is no way I could love that man more than I do this day. Then we got married and I thought, there is never going to be a day I could love him more than this day. Then we got pregnant and the day I held Brody in my arms I looked at Scott and thought, there is no way I could ever love this man more than I do today for this precious gift he helped give to me. Then we had Reyna and Emery and I thought, okay this is it, my love could not grow more than this for this man. Then I got cancer and I watched him support me and I knew. This was the moment. This was the day that I knew I could never ever love him deeper than I did. Cancer gave me that. So in some weird way I am thankful for this stupid, painful, horrible disease.