Janet's Blog

So much has happened in the time since my last post. I regret not having been able to chronicle things as they occurred. At this point I think most of the three or so people who read this blog are up to date, but I will try to reconstruct events (to the best of my ability) after the fact.

After my less-than-delightful news about the cause of my joint pain (which just had to be delivered by the incredibly condescending doctor whom I have since given several bad ratings in a mail survey sent to me by Oakwood Westland Family Practice), I intended to soldier on and go about my business. I contacted the University of Michigan Cancer Center, and was told that I would have to supply them with all of the conceivable medical records relating to my initial cancer diagnosis. Slides, mammograms, X-rays, scans, pathology reports, everything.

I was unable to do much of anything besides make phone calls; Brian did most of the collecting. He went to various hospitals and gathered piles of films and scans and CDs. He tried looking at them too, but to a lay person they don't make much sense. The Cancer Center called and said I had an appointment with Dr. Daniel Hayes on November 29. I met the doctor and Lita, his nurse practitioner who both seemed very kind and yet somewhat disquieting. Nobody asked the really dangerous questions, and nobody seemed inclined to provide answers to what remained unasked: how bad is it? How long do I have? What's the prognosis? Will I get better?

What they did do is start setting up appointments like gangbusters. I was to come back the next day to meet with the orthopedic surgeon to find out if surgery would be required for my hip. I was to have the first of my monthly infusions of a bone-strengthening drug and the first injection of the pellet which has by now completely shut down my ovaries (there will not be the pitter-patter of little feet in my future unless the little feet are attached to a puppy), and I was to meet with the radiation oncologist to get "measured" for the radiation treatments.

The next day I was back at the medical center being wheeled around. Good news from the surgeon: no surgery. It wouldn't really help at this point, and radiation would be of more benefit. The infusion was unpleasant, as they always are; the iv lady couldn't get the iv started and after several failed attempts had to get somebody else to do it. The giant needle used to insert the pellet hurt like a m***** f*****. When they say "You might feel a little sting," be prepared for the PAIN.

Finally I went to meet the radiation oncologist, who was oddly smiley, and the radiation people put me on the table, made some marks on my body, and then said something which sounded disturbingly like, "Ok, now we're going to do the tattoos."

"Is that really necessary?" I said. I'd had it with being stabbed for one day.

It wasn't. They were able to make do with stickers, so I avoided acquiring permanent markings as a sign of my treatment. (I did eventually get something of a radiation burn on some very private areas--and suffered some rather interesting hair loss--but the rash went away and I assume the hair will eventually grow back. If not, I'll forever be able to save money on the kind of bikini wax job people pay good money for.)

Sitting up from the table, I started to feel very ill...I am extremely familiar with nausea and started having that extreme saliva production that heralds the onset of, well, the puking. Somebody grabbed a pink tray for me, and I spewed into that for a moment. Of course the involuntary spasms caused no small amount of agony in my hip.

Later that evening, getting into the car, I had trouble turning on my good foot and accidentally put my full weight on the injured side.

Agony.

Every bump in the road compounded it.

Getting out of the car took forever.

Getting up the steps was one of the hardest and most painful things I've ever done; putting any weight at all on my right leg caused horrible, excruciating pain. Dangling the leg and putting no weight on it caused similar, but different pain. Every time I was able to hoist myself onto the next step, my right foot would tap the step as well, causing more agony. About halfway up the staircase I started to feel like my left hip was snapping apart as well. I don't know how I finally made it; Brian tried to help but lifting under my arms didn't work either. I eventually made it onto the landing and it took about a half an hour to go from the front door to the bathroom. From there I went to bed, where I planned to stay the next day.

Before leaving for work the next morning, Brian made sure I would have pills and water nearby, and that I'd have access to a phone. When I woke up and attempted to get out of bed, I was made painfully aware that I was not going to be able to do so. I couldn't get out of bed, much less cross the hall to go to the bathroom or make it down the stairs to any of my radiation appointments. I called Brian and left a message; Brian called Lita and started planning how to get me admitted to UM Hospital's Emergency Room.

To be continued...

Labels: blog, Brian, Dr. Hayes, hip, infusion, IV, Lita, nausea, Oakwood, radiation, spasms, University of Michigan Cancer Center, Zometa

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