Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Cycle trauma
The other day at the appointment with Dr. Rodriguez (who is a physical rehabilitation specialist), it was determined that I am well enough now to not require further visits with her, and that should I desire physical therapy in the future or if anything comes up, I could see her "as needed," but for now I should consider myself as being graduated from physical therapy.
I asked about the CT scans she had ordered of my upper spine, since I had complained of some neck issues which seem to be causing numbness in my thumb when I turn my head to the left. It turns out there are metastatic lesions on that part of my spine as well, which isn't something she can really address.
Brian brought up the subject of whether or not it would be safe to ride a motorcycle, which she denied vehemently. I believe he was asking if RIDING could cause any problems, but she focused on what happens when you fall off or get hit by a car.
Of course nobody thinks that will happen.
Yesterday on the way home from the infusion, Brian asked what I thought about what she had said. There was a yellow bike ahead of us. I said I think that riding itself won't necessarily shake me to pieces and that the doctor is correct in that the consequences of actually having an accident are likely to be worse for me than for other people, but that it might be possible to ride safely. Brian also said he agreed completely with the doctor, that riding a bike isn't as safe as being in a car. It's true; you're totally exposed. But it might be possible to find a relatively safe place to go to ride where bikers are expected and common. We agreed Hines Park would be a good place to ride. At that moment the traffic got a little wonky. Things slowed down and we shifted lanes a little bit only to see that the yellow bike we had seen lay smashed in the middle of an intersection. The rider was lying face down on the pavement.
"Oh my God."
"Holy shit."
Brian pulled to the right and hopped out of the car to see if the rider was ok. I called 9-1-1, only to regret I didn't know exactly what part of 153 we were on. The operator told me they were getting other calls, so I thanked her and hung up. The rider appeared to be breathing, and I think had been advised to lay still in case of a neck or back injury. There wasn't much else we could do. When a police car pulled up to take control of the intersection, Brian got back in the car and we continued down the road. Brian said that the rider's face was smashed up from not wearing a more protective helmet.
Brian went out riding after we got home. I told him to be careful and was relieved when he got home in one piece. He later told me that the smashed yellow bike was still in the intersection but that the car and the rider were gone.
He was still thinking about the accident this morning.
I asked about the CT scans she had ordered of my upper spine, since I had complained of some neck issues which seem to be causing numbness in my thumb when I turn my head to the left. It turns out there are metastatic lesions on that part of my spine as well, which isn't something she can really address.
Brian brought up the subject of whether or not it would be safe to ride a motorcycle, which she denied vehemently. I believe he was asking if RIDING could cause any problems, but she focused on what happens when you fall off or get hit by a car.
Of course nobody thinks that will happen.
Yesterday on the way home from the infusion, Brian asked what I thought about what she had said. There was a yellow bike ahead of us. I said I think that riding itself won't necessarily shake me to pieces and that the doctor is correct in that the consequences of actually having an accident are likely to be worse for me than for other people, but that it might be possible to ride safely. Brian also said he agreed completely with the doctor, that riding a bike isn't as safe as being in a car. It's true; you're totally exposed. But it might be possible to find a relatively safe place to go to ride where bikers are expected and common. We agreed Hines Park would be a good place to ride. At that moment the traffic got a little wonky. Things slowed down and we shifted lanes a little bit only to see that the yellow bike we had seen lay smashed in the middle of an intersection. The rider was lying face down on the pavement.
"Oh my God."
"Holy shit."
Brian pulled to the right and hopped out of the car to see if the rider was ok. I called 9-1-1, only to regret I didn't know exactly what part of 153 we were on. The operator told me they were getting other calls, so I thanked her and hung up. The rider appeared to be breathing, and I think had been advised to lay still in case of a neck or back injury. There wasn't much else we could do. When a police car pulled up to take control of the intersection, Brian got back in the car and we continued down the road. Brian said that the rider's face was smashed up from not wearing a more protective helmet.
Brian went out riding after we got home. I told him to be careful and was relieved when he got home in one piece. He later told me that the smashed yellow bike was still in the intersection but that the car and the rider were gone.
He was still thinking about the accident this morning.
Labels: accident, CT scan, Dr. Rodriguez, infusion, motorcycle, physical therapy
Second Verse, Same as the First (reprise)
I've been here before. I've been to a second dose of chemotherapy. The last time I had a second dose of chemotherapy I didn't suddenly have trouble breathing, have to have the treatment temporarily stopped, be given oxygen, and then have the treatment team paged.
Apparently Taxol can do that to you. I had some kind of reaction (which they assured me was not uncommon) and that I'd probably be fine and never have that reaction again. they gave me some benadryl to be on the safe side. It was very weird; it felt like my lungs just weren't working and my face turned beet red. I certainly hope it doesn't happen again; it delayed things and I ended up not getting out of there until after 6 p.m. I don't know why it is all of my appointments have to take so long.
The other day at Dr. Rodriguez's office, a patient showed up with a very demanding parent/guardian who insisted that the patient be seen despite not being in the system as having an appointment. We could hear the entire conversation through the walls, and I think his being there caused something of an uproar, disrupted the schedule, and I ended up being the last patient out of the office. Why? Why me? Do I need to be a squeakier wheel? Should I complain more? Should I loftily proclaim I will leave or threaten legal action if I'm not seen now? Those options aren't appealing; I think most people are just trying to do their jobs and don't want to be harangued. It's just that I'm getting a little tired of being passed over and having things run later than they ought.
My dose of 1 chemotherapy drug actually also involves a drug designed to inhibit new blood vessel growth (this is something tumors like to do...they nest somewhere and set up their own blood supply...little f#$%ers), which naturally have to be delivered separately. Then of course, to help with nausea, I am given some anti-nausea meds beforehand, two in pill form and one intraveinously, which delays the chemo. Then of course there are bags of saline to "flush" and since I had an episode, benadryl and more saline. Everything adds up to me sitting there forever. Blargh. I don't know what Brian did while I was sleeping. My mom had a book with her before she left for her yoga class.
Then of course the ride is long to get home. They are going to start offering infusions at the Canton health center, which will be much more convenient (I hope).
Apparently Taxol can do that to you. I had some kind of reaction (which they assured me was not uncommon) and that I'd probably be fine and never have that reaction again. they gave me some benadryl to be on the safe side. It was very weird; it felt like my lungs just weren't working and my face turned beet red. I certainly hope it doesn't happen again; it delayed things and I ended up not getting out of there until after 6 p.m. I don't know why it is all of my appointments have to take so long.
The other day at Dr. Rodriguez's office, a patient showed up with a very demanding parent/guardian who insisted that the patient be seen despite not being in the system as having an appointment. We could hear the entire conversation through the walls, and I think his being there caused something of an uproar, disrupted the schedule, and I ended up being the last patient out of the office. Why? Why me? Do I need to be a squeakier wheel? Should I complain more? Should I loftily proclaim I will leave or threaten legal action if I'm not seen now? Those options aren't appealing; I think most people are just trying to do their jobs and don't want to be harangued. It's just that I'm getting a little tired of being passed over and having things run later than they ought.
My dose of 1 chemotherapy drug actually also involves a drug designed to inhibit new blood vessel growth (this is something tumors like to do...they nest somewhere and set up their own blood supply...little f#$%ers), which naturally have to be delivered separately. Then of course, to help with nausea, I am given some anti-nausea meds beforehand, two in pill form and one intraveinously, which delays the chemo. Then of course there are bags of saline to "flush" and since I had an episode, benadryl and more saline. Everything adds up to me sitting there forever. Blargh. I don't know what Brian did while I was sleeping. My mom had a book with her before she left for her yoga class.
Then of course the ride is long to get home. They are going to start offering infusions at the Canton health center, which will be much more convenient (I hope).
Labels: allergy, Avastin, Brian, chemo, Dr. Rodriguez, infusion, mom, nausea, Taxol
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
More Like Myself; Less Like Igor
Yesterday I went in to the orthotics and prosthetics clinic to get fitted for an orthotic insert for my shoe. Dr. Rodriguez determined that there is now a 1-inch discrepancy between my two legs as a result of my hip fracture, and sent me to the clinic.
While I wasn't excited at the prospect of getting something to stick into my shoes (I imagine it won't work in many of my fancy dress shoes), I thought it would be nice to be able to stand and walk without having my hips tilted, which can contribute to lower back pain and is just generally awkward.
Yesterday the doctor at the clinic took some little rectangular platforms and had me stand on them with my back to him as he had me lift up my shirt so he could press down on my hip bones (eep, ticklish) to see if that particular height made them level. The ideal platform height turned out to be 3/4 of an inch, which is problematic: for a discrepancy that size, they usually have the platform attached to the outside of the shoe.
In order to correct the problem perfectly, I could put 3/4 inch platforms on each and every right shoe I own. Eek!
So I asked if it would be possible to try the smaller insert. It wouldn't correct things entirely, but it would be easier, less obtrusive, and might at least help reduce some of my lower back pain. He agreed, and now I have an insert that helps me walk more like me and less like Igor looking for brains. I also think if I'm more steady on my feet, I can avoid falling like I did which ultimately caused the problem to begin with.
While I wasn't excited at the prospect of getting something to stick into my shoes (I imagine it won't work in many of my fancy dress shoes), I thought it would be nice to be able to stand and walk without having my hips tilted, which can contribute to lower back pain and is just generally awkward.
Yesterday the doctor at the clinic took some little rectangular platforms and had me stand on them with my back to him as he had me lift up my shirt so he could press down on my hip bones (eep, ticklish) to see if that particular height made them level. The ideal platform height turned out to be 3/4 of an inch, which is problematic: for a discrepancy that size, they usually have the platform attached to the outside of the shoe.
In order to correct the problem perfectly, I could put 3/4 inch platforms on each and every right shoe I own. Eek!
So I asked if it would be possible to try the smaller insert. It wouldn't correct things entirely, but it would be easier, less obtrusive, and might at least help reduce some of my lower back pain. He agreed, and now I have an insert that helps me walk more like me and less like Igor looking for brains. I also think if I'm more steady on my feet, I can avoid falling like I did which ultimately caused the problem to begin with.
Labels: Dr. Rodriguez, hip
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Appointments and CT scans and MRIs, Oh My!
This week I had the veritable motherlode of appointments. I had my usual blood draw/oncology team visit/infusion & pellet injection on Tuesday. I made sure to bring pictures of the wedding with me to show Lita, the Oncology nurse practitioner, who demanded them last time. (I also tossed in some of the wedding favors Brian's mom put together for her and Dr. Hayes.)
My mom picked me up, and they were running on time at the blood draw station, so I went in, had some tubes sucked out painlessly as possible (I love those people), and then came out to go to the next appointment. We went upstairs and waited for Brian. The check-in area was hectic, and there was about an hour to wait.
We did not get to go in early.
They called me to one of the rooms, and forty minutes later, Brian showed up. Finally, my mom decided she had to go, so she left and Brian and I waited some more. And we waited and waited. I chewed some gum. It lost its flavor, and still I waited. Finally Lita came in and checked how I was doing. I showed her the mini-album of pictures my mom put together and gave her the party favor. She was delighted with the candy, not having eaten lunch that day.
We talked about the nausea, and how that's really the only thing bothering me significantly at this point. We also talked about driving, and she suggested that physical therapy would be the place to address that issue, so I said I'd talk to Dr. Rodriguez (the physical medicine specialist) today about it. Then she took off to find Dr. Hayes and send him in.
We waited, and waited, and waited....
My gum lost its flavor, so I threw it away. I got cold and decided to put my shirt back on. I figured if the doctor wanted to use the stethescope, he didn't need me in a gown for that.
Finally he ducked in and asked if we'd seen Lita. Sure, uh, about an HOUR ago. He asked briefly how I was and then said he'd come back with her.
When they got back, and the doctor talked about how the "numbers are down" and that things are looking very good. He was talking about the presence of protein markers which indicate tumor activity: tumor activity is down, so I am getting healthier. He is a little bit concerned about the nausea, and ordered an MRI of the brain to rule out tumors there. "A hundred dollars on it being nothing," he said (or something like it.)
This makes me nervous. I have beaten stupider odds. But surely the universe would not do this to me again--that would just be cruel. They just have to rule it out. I hope they're ruling it out. "I'd stay and talk, but you're doing well and I need to go help the sick people," he said, and left.
So Lita suggested seeing if the MRI people I was going to see this morning could add another MRI.
I had to be at the hospital today at 5:30 a.m. Laugh uproariously, all ye who know how much of a morning person I am not.
They did add the other MRI, but it totally ruined my whole shtick about pretending to be a photon torpedo. They put stabilizer pads by my head and then affixed a thing that was more like The Man in the Iron Mask than Star Trek. It ruined my concentration and made me all tense. Then just as the test was beginning I suddenly realized I had totally forgotten to take my wedding band off. Was I wearing any metal? Duh....I thought for sure I had remembered everything. I could feel it buzzing to the MRI pulse and hoped that the machine wasn't going to explode or zap my ring finger off or anything like that.
The CT scan was over very quickly; it was just of the neck. The original CT and MRI scans were prescribed by Dr. Rodriguez, who wanted to investigate why I've been getting some numbness in my hands when my head turns a certain way. (I'm guessing "pinched nerve," but I'm not the doctor.) So after this morning, I had to go back to Ann Arbor in the afternoon to see her. She asked how I was, inquired about my movement, measuered my legs when I complained one feels shorter than the other, and wrote out a new prescription for physical therapy, suggested a driving evaluation when I asked about that, and told me that I can have an appointment with orthotist? Orthotician?
I have to get an orthotic wedge in my shoe. Sigh. At least this will help with the limping. I guess a wedge is better than having to get orthopedic shoes. My mom had to wear those when she was younger and the result was a woman with a full-blown shoe fetish that has yet to wane.
My mom picked me up, and they were running on time at the blood draw station, so I went in, had some tubes sucked out painlessly as possible (I love those people), and then came out to go to the next appointment. We went upstairs and waited for Brian. The check-in area was hectic, and there was about an hour to wait.
We did not get to go in early.
They called me to one of the rooms, and forty minutes later, Brian showed up. Finally, my mom decided she had to go, so she left and Brian and I waited some more. And we waited and waited. I chewed some gum. It lost its flavor, and still I waited. Finally Lita came in and checked how I was doing. I showed her the mini-album of pictures my mom put together and gave her the party favor. She was delighted with the candy, not having eaten lunch that day.
We talked about the nausea, and how that's really the only thing bothering me significantly at this point. We also talked about driving, and she suggested that physical therapy would be the place to address that issue, so I said I'd talk to Dr. Rodriguez (the physical medicine specialist) today about it. Then she took off to find Dr. Hayes and send him in.
We waited, and waited, and waited....
My gum lost its flavor, so I threw it away. I got cold and decided to put my shirt back on. I figured if the doctor wanted to use the stethescope, he didn't need me in a gown for that.
Finally he ducked in and asked if we'd seen Lita. Sure, uh, about an HOUR ago. He asked briefly how I was and then said he'd come back with her.
When they got back, and the doctor talked about how the "numbers are down" and that things are looking very good. He was talking about the presence of protein markers which indicate tumor activity: tumor activity is down, so I am getting healthier. He is a little bit concerned about the nausea, and ordered an MRI of the brain to rule out tumors there. "A hundred dollars on it being nothing," he said (or something like it.)
This makes me nervous. I have beaten stupider odds. But surely the universe would not do this to me again--that would just be cruel. They just have to rule it out. I hope they're ruling it out. "I'd stay and talk, but you're doing well and I need to go help the sick people," he said, and left.
So Lita suggested seeing if the MRI people I was going to see this morning could add another MRI.
I had to be at the hospital today at 5:30 a.m. Laugh uproariously, all ye who know how much of a morning person I am not.
They did add the other MRI, but it totally ruined my whole shtick about pretending to be a photon torpedo. They put stabilizer pads by my head and then affixed a thing that was more like The Man in the Iron Mask than Star Trek. It ruined my concentration and made me all tense. Then just as the test was beginning I suddenly realized I had totally forgotten to take my wedding band off. Was I wearing any metal? Duh....I thought for sure I had remembered everything. I could feel it buzzing to the MRI pulse and hoped that the machine wasn't going to explode or zap my ring finger off or anything like that.
The CT scan was over very quickly; it was just of the neck. The original CT and MRI scans were prescribed by Dr. Rodriguez, who wanted to investigate why I've been getting some numbness in my hands when my head turns a certain way. (I'm guessing "pinched nerve," but I'm not the doctor.) So after this morning, I had to go back to Ann Arbor in the afternoon to see her. She asked how I was, inquired about my movement, measuered my legs when I complained one feels shorter than the other, and wrote out a new prescription for physical therapy, suggested a driving evaluation when I asked about that, and told me that I can have an appointment with orthotist? Orthotician?
I have to get an orthotic wedge in my shoe. Sigh. At least this will help with the limping. I guess a wedge is better than having to get orthopedic shoes. My mom had to wear those when she was younger and the result was a woman with a full-blown shoe fetish that has yet to wane.
Labels: brain scan, Brian, CT scan, Dr. Hayes, Dr. Rodriguez, infusion, injection, Lita, mom, MRI, nausea, physical therapy, star trek, tumor marker, wedding
