Life moves onward...
So I had that little song-and-dance on Thursday to instruct me on injecting the lovenox (pronounced LOW-ven-ox) into myself. This is the "bridge" drug which will give me a different drug to "thin" my blood, hopefully preventing blood clots without causing additional bleeding, both during and after surgery. And as of Thursday night, I discontinued the pills (warfarin) and this morning gave myself my first injection. Not as bad as I thought it might be, but already have a round purple spot from shot #1. That was on my right side, and tonight's (I just completed it) on the left side. The injections must be at least 2 inches from my belly button. It doesn't make me dizzy to do this, but it does smart a bit. I was told to get a "sharps" container to put the discarded syringes in, so I did this. But the darned syringe wouldn't fit through the drop-in spot! The plunger is bigger than the drop-in slot allows. ...the syringe has a shield that drops over the needle after you finish with it, which protects the needle portion. I have been deploying this shield and, for now, just gathering the discarded syringes. I think I will drop off the discarded syringes (what I will have accumulated up til then) at the clinic Monday morning.
Have been trying to figure out if I can snap a photo of me giving myself the injection, but since I need TWO hands to do this (one to pinch up a bit of fatty tissue and the other to stick the needle into the tissue and hold and push the plunger in), you are safe. I don't have a third hand to work the camera. Maybe I can convince my sister to snap one after the surgery!
Had a wonderful lunch yesterday (Friday) with S, a friend from my high school years. A wonderful, warm and supportive friend. She is (and has been for years) a nurse and sometimes gives me explanations on questions I have about procedures. I always feel better after spending time with her. We were apart for years, doing our own things and (in her case) raising a family. Now we live about 30 minutes apart and find we still like spending time together.
ANNNNDDD... I had a "coffee date" on Friday afternoon. Very nice guy and we chatted for about an hour-and-a-half or so. I thought it went pretty well. He lost his wife nearly 2 years ago. We talked about a few people that we (or others) have encountered on these dating services. Old photos (a guy with a BIG belly that was not in his photos), a woman who immediately tried to dictate (telling the man that he should get rid of his motorcycle because SHE thought they were too dangerous), a woman with a live-in boyfriend when she had claimed to be "single", and so on. Nothing dramatic, but some have amusing stories that flesh them out. And those tidbits make you want to be cautious. If I had dated L before he put the "big rush" on me, I probably would never have been in a relationship with him. Seeing someone "on stage" for a few times does help to bring out traits that you may or may not be able to accept.
Tomorrow I have a lunch date with another guy! In his profile, he seemed to have a very good sense of humor, and I like that in a man. The old saying says, "You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you will meet your prince." So here I go again...
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Mini update
Finally "caught a break" yesterday. I had been dreaded the financial impact of the cost of a drug that I must self-administer before my surgery.
Little background: I have an artificial heart valve, due to scar tissue on one of my heart valves from rheumatic fever and subsequent strep infections. My valve was not doing its job, so it was replaced in 1992. I must take daily doses of coumadin/warfarin, which keeps my blood a little "thinner" than most, so that the body will not respond to this artificial device by forming protective blood clots, in an attempt to "heal" around the valve. I always thought my valve would be an eventual health problem, but this time it is playing a significant challenge in my pre-op instead. I must give myself shots in my gut, twice a day, for 3 days prior to surgery (next Monday is day #1 of this "fun"), plus an unknown number of days after surgery. This drug will "bridge" me to a lower blood-thinning level, one that should protect my heart from blood clots. My poor gut will be sore post-surgery, and I have to stick needles in that post-surgical gut. I can hardly wait.
To top all of this off, the drug is VERY expensive, folks. I had been dreading the portion that I would have to pay for this drug, as my insurer seems to call everything a "deductible". This drug, 20 doses, runs over $1000. I do not have that much extra cash -- and truly, how many DO? Yesterday I stopped at Sam's Club and the pharmacist informed me that I would be paying only $20. Finally, a bit of a break.
Tomorrow, I will have a chest x-ray just before the nurse instructs me on how to do self-sticking. Oh, joy.
Apparently I have the "worst" option of artificial heart valves: the mitral valve can be harder to monitor (for blood thinning) and if the clotting factor is too low, I can throw a blood clot too easily (a stroke); but if the clotting is too high (or thin), I can have internal bleeding which is not a good thing. I had 11 units of blood due to internal bleeding post-surgery, when this valve was put in, 19 years ago.
So, my friends, I hope I have very few complications during or after this surgery. Ideally, I would prefer that the cancer is contained, and that the bleeding or clotting is controlled as much as is possible. I will try to update you following surgery, but that will probably not be for several days.
MORE GOOD NEWS: My surgery date has been moved up! I received a phone call about 30 minutes ago from M, who is the surgical scheduler at the U. Because the surgeon has SUCH a heavy schedule on the 17th (her last patient has a 7 pm surgery time!), one of those patients was offered an alternate, earlier date of the 15th. And bless M, she phoned ME first and gave me this option. I phoned my sis (who along with her guy R) who will be bringing me to Minneapolis for this surgery. Had to leave her a message (they were shopping) and was just starting to key in a text to her, when she returned my phone call and gave me the go-ahead for the earlier date. Can you imagine? TWO pieces of good news. Can I hope for more??!!
Thanks for putting up with my whining! I think I have two "faithful" readers -- or at least two who occasionally post comments. All comments welcome, and thanks to those who "lurk" but do not comment.
Little background: I have an artificial heart valve, due to scar tissue on one of my heart valves from rheumatic fever and subsequent strep infections. My valve was not doing its job, so it was replaced in 1992. I must take daily doses of coumadin/warfarin, which keeps my blood a little "thinner" than most, so that the body will not respond to this artificial device by forming protective blood clots, in an attempt to "heal" around the valve. I always thought my valve would be an eventual health problem, but this time it is playing a significant challenge in my pre-op instead. I must give myself shots in my gut, twice a day, for 3 days prior to surgery (next Monday is day #1 of this "fun"), plus an unknown number of days after surgery. This drug will "bridge" me to a lower blood-thinning level, one that should protect my heart from blood clots. My poor gut will be sore post-surgery, and I have to stick needles in that post-surgical gut. I can hardly wait.
To top all of this off, the drug is VERY expensive, folks. I had been dreading the portion that I would have to pay for this drug, as my insurer seems to call everything a "deductible". This drug, 20 doses, runs over $1000. I do not have that much extra cash -- and truly, how many DO? Yesterday I stopped at Sam's Club and the pharmacist informed me that I would be paying only $20. Finally, a bit of a break.
Tomorrow, I will have a chest x-ray just before the nurse instructs me on how to do self-sticking. Oh, joy.
Apparently I have the "worst" option of artificial heart valves: the mitral valve can be harder to monitor (for blood thinning) and if the clotting factor is too low, I can throw a blood clot too easily (a stroke); but if the clotting is too high (or thin), I can have internal bleeding which is not a good thing. I had 11 units of blood due to internal bleeding post-surgery, when this valve was put in, 19 years ago.
So, my friends, I hope I have very few complications during or after this surgery. Ideally, I would prefer that the cancer is contained, and that the bleeding or clotting is controlled as much as is possible. I will try to update you following surgery, but that will probably not be for several days.
MORE GOOD NEWS: My surgery date has been moved up! I received a phone call about 30 minutes ago from M, who is the surgical scheduler at the U. Because the surgeon has SUCH a heavy schedule on the 17th (her last patient has a 7 pm surgery time!), one of those patients was offered an alternate, earlier date of the 15th. And bless M, she phoned ME first and gave me this option. I phoned my sis (who along with her guy R) who will be bringing me to Minneapolis for this surgery. Had to leave her a message (they were shopping) and was just starting to key in a text to her, when she returned my phone call and gave me the go-ahead for the earlier date. Can you imagine? TWO pieces of good news. Can I hope for more??!!
Thanks for putting up with my whining! I think I have two "faithful" readers -- or at least two who occasionally post comments. All comments welcome, and thanks to those who "lurk" but do not comment.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
A date with ??
I have now been "scheduled" for my surgery. It's for the Thursday before Thanksgiving, Nov. 17th. Naturally, I have a late-in-the-day slot, which I am sure means that I will be logging not ONE, but TWO nights in the hospital. I do not tolerate hospitals and their routines well, with the insistence of the staff on popping in to do "vitals" just minutes after you have managed to squeak out a moment of sleep, in spite of the constant noise just outside your door.
The surgery will be at the U of M (Minnesota), where there is a good-sized staff that specializes in gynecological oncology.
And I want to be anywhere, ANYWHERE but here, anywhere FUN and worry-free. Instead, I can now add cancer to my list of pre-existing conditions. Too young for Medicare/Medicaid, I can only hope that my insurance will cover a fair amount of the expense. I have already heard that "you can't put a price on health" (try telling that to a health insurer and to my fixed income); that "you are strong, you'll get through this" (heard that when my husband died, too -- folks, you need a new catch-phrase). I cry too easily now, but always when I am alone. I was able to plow on, after Greg died. But this... this is just TOO MUCH for me.
'Bye for now. Thanks for reading.
The surgery will be at the U of M (Minnesota), where there is a good-sized staff that specializes in gynecological oncology.
And I want to be anywhere, ANYWHERE but here, anywhere FUN and worry-free. Instead, I can now add cancer to my list of pre-existing conditions. Too young for Medicare/Medicaid, I can only hope that my insurance will cover a fair amount of the expense. I have already heard that "you can't put a price on health" (try telling that to a health insurer and to my fixed income); that "you are strong, you'll get through this" (heard that when my husband died, too -- folks, you need a new catch-phrase). I cry too easily now, but always when I am alone. I was able to plow on, after Greg died. But this... this is just TOO MUCH for me.
'Bye for now. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Me and the big C
Well, folks, this is becoming very REAL to me. I have been scheduled for a "consult" at the U of MN in the Women's Health Center. Today, a phone call informed me that this will be a 2 to 4 hour appointment. Sobering thought, all that time for who-knows-what.
I wish I had someone's hand to hold through all of this. A none-judgmental warm and caring person. I feel so alone, so lonely. I have been a major support of my late husband through all of his many health issues, and then for my (former) guy-friend through several of his health treatments and issues. And my thanks is: a major, MAJOR health crisis that I will have to go through all by myself. Yes, I have family, my sister and my mother. But it's not the kind of support who can be by my side, to give me a shoulder to cry or sob on, to help me work out my fears. But this is not to be...
Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers.
I wish I had someone's hand to hold through all of this. A none-judgmental warm and caring person. I feel so alone, so lonely. I have been a major support of my late husband through all of his many health issues, and then for my (former) guy-friend through several of his health treatments and issues. And my thanks is: a major, MAJOR health crisis that I will have to go through all by myself. Yes, I have family, my sister and my mother. But it's not the kind of support who can be by my side, to give me a shoulder to cry or sob on, to help me work out my fears. But this is not to be...
Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Shine a little light...
Oh, how much more optimistic I feel today. And ONE person is responsible for this.
Yesterday (Thursday) and even Wednesday evening, I tossed out a wide net, making phone calls to several family/friends in the healthcare industry, specifically one physicians' assistant and two nurses, all based in the Twin Cities area. My statement to all, after stating my diagnosis, was to ask them if they had any contacts in the gyn/oncology practices in that region.
And the replies basically confirmed what the gyn doc up here had mentioned, in his lovely mid-dinner over-the-phone diagnosis. The best place is at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis campus.
But... BUT the very BEST phone call came from the wife of my late hubby's cousin C. That's the cousin's initial, but the call was from his wife, initial B. What a WELCOME call. B went thru this very same thing herself 6 years ago, and I did not even know about it. The fact that she herself has the nursing background, plus that she used another large medical practice (not the U) based in the Cities, was a wonderful light in that dark tunnel that the doc's phone call had me in. Night and day, describes my feelings. To echo a cliche, someone who has walked a mile (and THEN some) in my shoes. And to be fair, she said that either the U or this alternate practice would be good choices for me to use.
So, friends and readers, my mood has turned completely around. Pooh on the diagnosis, hooray for those who have experienced this themselves and will SHARE what they went thru. I feel hopeful, not helpless. Thank you, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, B!
Yesterday (Thursday) and even Wednesday evening, I tossed out a wide net, making phone calls to several family/friends in the healthcare industry, specifically one physicians' assistant and two nurses, all based in the Twin Cities area. My statement to all, after stating my diagnosis, was to ask them if they had any contacts in the gyn/oncology practices in that region.
And the replies basically confirmed what the gyn doc up here had mentioned, in his lovely mid-dinner over-the-phone diagnosis. The best place is at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis campus.
But... BUT the very BEST phone call came from the wife of my late hubby's cousin C. That's the cousin's initial, but the call was from his wife, initial B. What a WELCOME call. B went thru this very same thing herself 6 years ago, and I did not even know about it. The fact that she herself has the nursing background, plus that she used another large medical practice (not the U) based in the Cities, was a wonderful light in that dark tunnel that the doc's phone call had me in. Night and day, describes my feelings. To echo a cliche, someone who has walked a mile (and THEN some) in my shoes. And to be fair, she said that either the U or this alternate practice would be good choices for me to use.
So, friends and readers, my mood has turned completely around. Pooh on the diagnosis, hooray for those who have experienced this themselves and will SHARE what they went thru. I feel hopeful, not helpless. Thank you, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, B!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Write about what you know best
Well, that's the "theme" of this particular post. I am feeling very down and you, my dear readers (are there any of you out there anymore?) will get to share my journey into the dumps.
Yesterday I received a phone call from my doc giving me the diagnosis that no woman wants to hear: uterine cancer, as showed up in the tissues that were reviewed from my SECOND round of internal biopsies/D & C. He says it is stage 1, which is, I know, the "lightest" version of cancer. Please don't tell me that I am "lucky", because I do not feel lucky at this particular moment in my life.
Furthermore, my relationship which had been on and off and is finally OFF for good, was maybe not the best one. But it did involve someone that would probably have been by my side. And so I do not have a pair of arms to wrap around me, to hug me, hold me, let me cry on him. So, SO lonely, so lonesome.
I have been told that there are women who HAVE someone in their lives that will NOT do the above, and I feel sorry for them. But right now I am too busy selfishly feeling sorry for myself.
And I had just recently been wading into the world of online dating, without much success, I acknowledge. But feeling positive about the possibilities... Anyone have a guy who wants a gal in MY situation? Yes, I thought not.
I have been told to "put on a mask" and smile, so people will think what a strong woman I am. You know, I got REAL tired of that shit after sudden widowhood. Ask how many widows want to go thru life wearing that mask, just so OTHER people will feel good. What does it get YOU (in this case, ME)?
Sorry, but I think I warned you... I need to throw myself this pity party. It has not even been 24 hrs since I got that phone call. Please allow me a chance to grieve once again. I carried forward with my blog after Greg died, and IF I make it thru this, then maybe someone will benefit from my agony. Or else I will have to leave someone my blog password and ask them to post the final update...
On the positive side: my mammogram was good, and my cardiologist gave me a 2-yr return visit date. So above the waist, good. Below, not so good.
Some people tell widows, as well as those in my situation, that "God doesn't give you anymore that you can bear". Well, I am official proof that this is NOT the case. I am breaking right now... splintering, even as I type.
I feel stupid, sitting at the keyboard in tears. And I don't want to cry only in the shower, as I did following Greg's death. I want to be acknowledged, that I have a right to cry, to grieve. And I hope to come back to a positive attitude, as I do NOT want to drag myself down. Oh, and then when YOU get this diagnosis, you can tell me how perky and smiley you are. And I will KNOW that you are either on some mood-altering drugs and/or alcohol.
I have family and friends in the medical profession, and they are confirming what my doc mentioned in passing: that the best treatment in this state for my situation, is at the gyn/oncology dept. @ the U of MN in Minneapolis. I just hope that appointments are available soon. Let's go ahead and do what needs to get done.
So that's it, folks. My sad, pitiful situation. Lucky, that's me, for sure. Updates will probably follow... I am sure I will smile once again... and it will probably be a very PHONY smile. Check out my eyes - if the mouth is smiling and the eyes are not, then it's a definite paste-on smile. Not me, just a mask. And not fun.
Yesterday I received a phone call from my doc giving me the diagnosis that no woman wants to hear: uterine cancer, as showed up in the tissues that were reviewed from my SECOND round of internal biopsies/D & C. He says it is stage 1, which is, I know, the "lightest" version of cancer. Please don't tell me that I am "lucky", because I do not feel lucky at this particular moment in my life.
Furthermore, my relationship which had been on and off and is finally OFF for good, was maybe not the best one. But it did involve someone that would probably have been by my side. And so I do not have a pair of arms to wrap around me, to hug me, hold me, let me cry on him. So, SO lonely, so lonesome.
I have been told that there are women who HAVE someone in their lives that will NOT do the above, and I feel sorry for them. But right now I am too busy selfishly feeling sorry for myself.
And I had just recently been wading into the world of online dating, without much success, I acknowledge. But feeling positive about the possibilities... Anyone have a guy who wants a gal in MY situation? Yes, I thought not.
I have been told to "put on a mask" and smile, so people will think what a strong woman I am. You know, I got REAL tired of that shit after sudden widowhood. Ask how many widows want to go thru life wearing that mask, just so OTHER people will feel good. What does it get YOU (in this case, ME)?
Sorry, but I think I warned you... I need to throw myself this pity party. It has not even been 24 hrs since I got that phone call. Please allow me a chance to grieve once again. I carried forward with my blog after Greg died, and IF I make it thru this, then maybe someone will benefit from my agony. Or else I will have to leave someone my blog password and ask them to post the final update...
On the positive side: my mammogram was good, and my cardiologist gave me a 2-yr return visit date. So above the waist, good. Below, not so good.
Some people tell widows, as well as those in my situation, that "God doesn't give you anymore that you can bear". Well, I am official proof that this is NOT the case. I am breaking right now... splintering, even as I type.
I feel stupid, sitting at the keyboard in tears. And I don't want to cry only in the shower, as I did following Greg's death. I want to be acknowledged, that I have a right to cry, to grieve. And I hope to come back to a positive attitude, as I do NOT want to drag myself down. Oh, and then when YOU get this diagnosis, you can tell me how perky and smiley you are. And I will KNOW that you are either on some mood-altering drugs and/or alcohol.
I have family and friends in the medical profession, and they are confirming what my doc mentioned in passing: that the best treatment in this state for my situation, is at the gyn/oncology dept. @ the U of MN in Minneapolis. I just hope that appointments are available soon. Let's go ahead and do what needs to get done.
So that's it, folks. My sad, pitiful situation. Lucky, that's me, for sure. Updates will probably follow... I am sure I will smile once again... and it will probably be a very PHONY smile. Check out my eyes - if the mouth is smiling and the eyes are not, then it's a definite paste-on smile. Not me, just a mask. And not fun.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Just a brief suggestion...
If you have EVER had self-esteem problems of any kind, you might want to read this woman's blog. She lost her husband about 6 months before Greg died, and I somehow found her blog on-line (of course, where ELSE would I have found it?). She has been very open about sharing her highs AND lows.
Anyway, even if you haven't lost a spouse, but occasionally read my blog, give her current post a try.
Thanks.
Janine's blog
Anyway, even if you haven't lost a spouse, but occasionally read my blog, give her current post a try.
Thanks.
Janine's blog
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)