05 November 2008

hitting the wall

This week, I have hit the wall. All the optimism and positivity is fast hemorrhaging and in its place is left a black hole of desperation. Desperation to be done with all of this.

This began over the weekend, when on Saturday my fever climbed and climbed until it reached the 100.5° threshold that means a call to the doctor. The on-call MD said he'd let the emergency room know I was on my way. I got there around 7 pm and was promptly handed a mask so I wouldn't inhale any germs. I was given IV antibiotics and fluids, and had lots of blood taken and tested. After about three and a half hours, I was given a prescription for Levaquin, an antibiotic, and let go. I must say, Dr W and Nurse S were very kind. But, as always, I don't know how I would have gotten through it without John. Between getting stuck in the crook of my elbow and having the humiliation of my first bedpan use, he encouraged me to hang in there and held my hand and even managed to make me laugh. He's good like that :)

Sounds easy, no? 3 1/2 hours in the ER, a script, and a release. But I assure you, it wasn't easy. Levaquin, a nice "broad-spectrum" antibiotic, and one of the few I'm not allergic to, rips apart my insides. There is no amount of Immodium that can offer any relief.

And along with the unending diarrhea, is nausea. Nausea like I can't explain. I know in my head that if I could just throw up, I might feel better. But I am not a puker, and so I'm left with being sick to my stomach for hours on end. I have tried three different meds for this, but nothing seems to be able to offer relief.

How I spent my weekend

I spent Sunday and Monday in bed. Tuesday, I woke up feeling a bit better. I went for blood work, and even made it into work for a few hours. But as soon as I took my Levaquin, that was all over. Today, I woke up feeling bad and have not improved. I didn't even attempt going in to work. I got ready, got dressed in my new kitty-cat shirt (thanks, Julie!), and headed off to radiation. Halfway there, the nausea hit.

I had a long chat with Dr F, who seems to really listen to me and tries to answer my questions thoughtfully. He said that although it is too early to tell if all this radiation is helping (plus the radiation causes inflammation and swelling), he has seen some improvement. And both he and Dr M are confident that the treatment is working. He gave me a prescription for Zofran, a new anti-nausea med that started to work until I took my Levaquin. Since then, I've been in bed.

Looking cute despite the nausea in my kitty cat shirt

On top of all this, I'm scheduled for my last chemo tomorrow. But my counts this week are lower than they were last week (1.7 white cells, and 9.4 hemoglobin), so logically that leads me to believe that chemo will hit me harder this time than last time. Which means that in addition to feeling physically crappy, I also feel emotionally and mentally crappy, and have spent an inordinate amount of time crying.

The thing that bothers me most is that it seems like Dr M isn't hearing me. Dr F suggested last week that I might not need this round of chemo. And after ending up in the ER, I was especially hoping for that to be true. I spoke with Dr M's nurses, and they spoke to him, and then he told them his answer, and then they told me. "Yes, she still needs it." But I haven't talked to him face-to-face since my laparoscopy, and it's difficult to feel that a doctor is on your side when you only hear from him via other people. It's hard to see if he's listening, or if he's just phoning it in. I am feeling like a number. And not a prime number, at that.

And once again, I have heard from one of his nurses. Nurse J called me and we've had a long talk about things. She suggested, and I agreed, that I will go in tomorrow as scheduled, But instead of chemo, I will get some fluids and some anti-nausea meds. And they'll do some more labs. Then, depending on how I feel and what the blood work shows, if I'm going to have this last chemo, it will be on Monday. Monday is also my last day to be on Levaquin, so if I have to have chemo that day, at least they will give me anti-nausea meds at the same time.

And on Wednesday, I will have my last Brachytherapy.

And then I will be done. My treatments will finally be over, and I can begin my journey back to being myself.

I hope I haven't forgotten who that is!

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

My sweet Linda, Having nausea. to me, is almost unbearable. You are going through a very bad period. You're hitting the bottom line and pray to God, you'll be feeling better soon. The world of experience is not funny, at the end it makes you stronger.What a price. Love, Mems

Anonymous said...

You are so strong / You are prime number.



Other john

Anonymous said...

Hi Linda,
This blog was a hard read...because you looked so ill in the first picture and the description of what you've been going through and how lousy you feel. I loathe what this illness and its treatment are doing to you, yet thank God FOR the treatment.
You looked lovely in the second picture and that was encouraging.
BTW, you are and always will be my favorite Tinkerbell..anyone who knows you can never forget you.
As always, those of us who love you are with you in spirit and thought and prayer.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. YAY!!!!!!
With warm fuzzy thoughts, MT Jeanne

Kimie said...

to quote Star Wars...'almost there...stay on target..almost there...stay on target..' but not the part where Porkins gets blown up. :) keeping you in my thoughts, K