I had my annual physical in the morning. My primary care physician was so sorry I am dealing with this. Later, I realized she never asked me about getting my annual mammogram. The left breast has only had a recent MRI. I wonder if that counts.
We talked about my sleeping problems, and I told her the Oncologist prescribed Ambien, but I’ve only used it a few times. Are there any other options? She reviewed some and suggested Lunesta, but the same issues with that as Ambien mean it should not be taken consistently for an extended period of time. I told her I would think about it. She gave me a handwritten Rx, just in case.
I asked her if I should see a dietitian, but she wants to wait and see how I do on chemo before we go that route. I told her I worried about my weight loss and our goal. She said we would cross that bridge as we came to it during chemo. I still want to reach my goal weight. I am still not comfortable in my body. And that is besides The Lump.
We talked about everything that had happened in less than a month, how I fell apart from my first Support Group. She asked if I was going to go back. Well, yes. Just because I was overwhelmed last week doesn’t mean I can’t try to find some value in this. My husband found value in his support group when he didn’t expect to connect at all. I can do this.
We went over my blood work, Thyroid was a little high, I told her I actually forgot which day I was skipping a pill (my dosage for several years now has been 6 days a week, one day off). I messed it up the week before my blood draw, and I have a feeling I took more than 7 pills that week. It’s been a bad month. I swear I will be better, and I have already double-checked my dosage for this week after I realized on Sunday that I had taken a pill the night before, and I had one in my hand for my “day” pills.
Then, there were some white blood cells in my urine—not a lot, and nothing grew when the lab tried to culture any bacteria. I told her the lab I went to had no antiseptic wipes. I washed as best I could with a paper towel, soap, and water, but… So yeah, I don’t plan on going back to that lab again. I was surprised that for clean catch, they had nothing!
Everything else on my labs was fine.
We agreed that I should increase my D3 to at least 2000 IU daily instead of just 3x weekly. She said I could go higher.
I forgot to ask her about a medical cannabis card, just in case. We’ve (husband and I) talked about how if chemo is really rough on me, this is an option. Just the cannabis oils or edibles. Really not interested in smoking!
I went home, did some work, and then had to turn around and return to have the echo-cardiogram. It’s the same medical complex. I told them I’d had at least two echoes previously at Torrance Memorial, but they said I had to do a complete baseline echo because this was my first time in their office. They didn’t even have a gel warmer! And the poor ultrasound tech had to sit on a metal folding chair. I was not all that impressed with that office, but oh well. I have a new baseline echo-cardiogram on file.
I went back home and got back to working. I worked straight through till a little after 5 pm when we had to leave for our respective Support Group meetings.
We got there a little earlier than we anticipated, so we took a walk around the pier. Husband asked me if the absolute worst should happen in this process, and we have to plan for my death, have I decided what I want done? Well, yeah, we’ve discussed this before. I want direct in-ground shroud wrapped burial. There is a place north of San Francisco that does this. He joked that what, I just fold you into the car and drive you up there? I told him I had the information before, I just don’t remember where I put it so I will pull it up again and create a file.
Then he asked me about any type of service… Wow, we’re really discussing this, right before Support Group, where last week it broke me. Ok, I can do this, it’s life. I think about that part, a service, or life celebration or whatever. I don’t know, but I think if this does go south, I think my family will need something. There will need to be a celebration of life. Then he asks me where? Do I have to do this up North? No, No, it needs to be done here. The kids are here, you’re here, most of our friends are here. The rest of the family will just have to be inconvenienced this time instead of us. They have to come to you and the kids. You and the kids should NOT have to go to them to celebrate my life and the fact that it ended so much earlier than I ever planned. Then my husband asked me if he would have a fight with my mother over this. I told him I don’t care what she wants, this is about you and the kids and what I want. He said good, if he had to, he’d tell her to F off. He has my permission. If it comes to this, he gets the easy out. None of them (husband and kids) should have to travel because a celebration of life service for me is not convenient for the rest of my family.
Then we talked about him, I’ve always known he wants to be cremated, but he’s never said what he wants done with his ashes. He said I could do whatever I want with his ashes. Put them in a urn and keep them on a shelf, scatter him in the waters at Disneyland (which they don’t allow, but I’d find a way I think). He wasn’t sure about any kind of service or celebration. He thinks no one would attend but me and the kids.
We finished our discussion before we went in for our Support Groups.
I did admit to mine this week that I came out of last week totally overwhelmed and broken. They were very glad I came back.
This week went much better. I’m still pissed that I’m going to loose my F’ing eyelashes, but I can deal with it if I have to… They were all very supportive and understanding and validated my feelings of being angry about the damn eyelashes. I know it’s a stupid thing to be hung up on, but everyone’s got something, right?
It was a good night, and despite the apprehension of the unknown, as everyone is different on chemo, I feel better prepared now, and more in control. My dragon is still there, lurking, but does not have the same hold it had just a few days ago.
Life is still on hold.