The journey was long, although, while traveling the first part, there was so much coming at us, the only way to stay semi sane was to roll with the punches....... and there were a lot of those. I'm going to tell you about the whole thing, I'm pretty sure I can't pull it off in one sitting, so you may have to come back a couple of times for the full story.
As indicated, before getting sick enough to stay home from work, there were signs there was something not completely "right" in my world. In November, I had a physical, without any flags, but beginning of December I had a lump on my collarbone that was not there one day, and about the size of an egg the next, so a biopsie was in order...... The result that were given was: "We don't know what it is, but it's not cancer". That in itself put a good amount of fear in me, but what can you do..... I asked how they could say it wasn't cancer, if they couldn't say wat it was, and was told that "I should be happy with the "no cancer" verdict and not worry about it. The lump was taken out, nothing was left behind, so basically get on with my life and stop trying to "have something" that wasn't there."
I wasn't really at ease, but I couldn't MAKE them give an answer I could live with, now could I? The part of me that was happy with "no cancer" overruled the "WTeverlovin'F" part, so I got on with life. I had just started a new job, and for some reason, I could not get my head around what I was supposed to know. It was like I couldn't retain all the new stuff that was coming at me and I constantly felt overwhelmed and out of my depth. This was a new experience for me. I'm usually pretty good at knowing what I know, and quick to pick things up but I reluctantly chalked it up to being tired of starting over and being distracted. People started to complement me on losing weight, something I wasn't really shooting for, but since I wasn't eating right because the weirdest things would make my stomach roll, and sleeping worse, I took it at face value. In February, I started getting winded walking up the stairs to the workfloor, and a week or so later, I started getting winded walking from the car to the building, and having to stop halfway up the stairs, because I couldn't catch my breath..... March 23rd was the first day I couldn't get out of bed. I had been puking more than normal resulting in not having kept anything down for 4 days, having a bear of a headache, and just plain being miserable. After 2 days of not feeling any better, I figured I better go see a doctor because this didn't feel like the flue anymore.
I was weighed and it turned out I had lost about 10 pounds since my check up in November, BP was good, temperature was a little on the high side, heartrate normal, nothing funky that they could tell, blood was taken for testing and an appointment was made for 5 days later.
Next visit, I had lost 2 pounds, bloodpressure was a little low and the bloodtest came back with a lowgrade infection, so I got anti-biotics..... and within 24 hours, I was scratching my skin raw for no apparent reason and was given the advice to put some calamine lotion on the spot the itched the most, and to try and get some rest, and my follow up appointment was made for next Monday.
I am normally an avid reader, and knowing I would spend some time in bed, we managed to get to the library and pick up some books. Set up in bed with the laptop, bottles of water (at that point the only thing I kept down, a box of crackers and the books, I settled in while Mike went to work. Most days he would come home during lunch and make sure everything was still "good". Doctors visit on Monday netted me another battery of bloodtests because now they were thinking I had Catscratch Fever (The doctor had discovered we had a cat) I had lost another 2 pounds. Blood came back clean, and an ultrasound was scheduled for 2 weeks later, with "checks" at the doctors office twice a week. I kept losing weight, and by the time the ultrasound appointment came about, I was heavily leaning on Mike to get where I needed to go. Eating was at a standstill but I was always thirsty, although I rarely visited the restroom. Bloodpressure kept going down, blood still showed infection but none of the test came back with that dreaded but anticipated answer as to what was wrong with me. This went on until the beginning of July. Twice a week doctor, always losing weight but no answers forthcoming. Finally the doctor set me up with an appointment with a physician specializing in Infectious Diseases. I thought he had totally lost his mind and almost didn't go to the appointment. Our family deductible was 8000$ and we only had one income and I already had no idea how to pay the bills that were starting to come in. Mike took me anyway, siting health over financing was the way to go. I am so happy he did that. She ordered a colonoscopy for end of July. (I think, at that point, that was the only test that hadn't been done). Mike stayed with me for part of the night before the test, and was back by 7. Around midnight, I had gotten a bodyscan as a precaution. Why, we weren't told, and we assumed it was standard operating procedure. The next morning, while we were waiting on a timeframe so Mike could get some sleep, the doctor came and told me the colonoscopy was off the table. Because the bodyscan had shows my whole body to be riddled with "spots" they were going to do a biopsy immediately (and they weren't kidding) on my vocalcords, and because it was so close to my carothic, it would be done by a heart surgeon, and she was on her way. I was so upset. Not because of the surgery, but because of the scar it would leave. I already had a nice jagged scar from the biopsy in Deember right above my collarbone, and this would make me look like Herman Munster, the only thing missing would be the bolts.... (The things that go thru your head when you're all muddled...... unbelievable. LOL!) As soon as the doctor was done talking, they put something in my IV, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the ICU because my bloodpressure was so low, they weren't taking any chances and I had to stay at least over night, possibly longer. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but in hindsight, I was hell on the nurses that night. I was not sleepign well, hadn't for a long time, so I would dose for half hour or so and upon waking think it was morning......so I would ask them when Mike was going to be able to visit, and why he couldn't be there...... Obviously, anesthesia makes me needy..... The next morning I was released, as my bloodpressure was ok, the anesthesia had wore off, and I was breathing without a problem. The surgery had gone well, they had scraped my vocalcord, so I would probably be hoarse for a couple of days, but they had to give me 2 bags of blood. I was to sit up for a couple of days or at least not lay flat and as soon as the results were in, they would contact us. Until than, the suggestion was to heal up, try to eat and basically "sit tight"......
The visits in June and July to the doctors office were done with me in a wheelchair, because I couldn't stand. If I had to use the restroom, or take a shower, Mike would lift me up in his arms, and deposit me where I needed to be, and do everything in reverse when I was done. He would stand watch while I was in the tub, under the guise of making small talk so I wouldn't drown because I couldn't be trusted to stay upright. At this point I was 110 pounds and still losing weight. When we needed a car, the people behind the counter always asked Mike about me. At the time, it really didn't register why I was getting the attention. I wasn't in a lot of pain, just so unbelievably tired, I just didn't really pay attention to my surroundings. I had a velcro kitty that would only leave my side to use the litterbox and eat and than he was right back on the bed, snuggled into my side while I was sitting up, and into my tummy when I was sleeping, and that was really the only thing that registered, and that only some of the time. Mike was in charge of shopping, cooking, cleaning and my "social calendar" as well as keeping my work informed of tests being done and my status of coming back to work, while holding down a fulltime job.
During this time Mike had an accident, and we lost the car. It wasn't his fault, and several people witnessing the accident had testified to it, but the kid that ran the red light, was the son of the policechief, so since Mike hit him........... it was his fault. Our car was totalled, but luckily we still had his motorcycle to get to and from work, but for my doctors visits we had to rent a car, because there was no way I could hang on, or even get on the back of the bike.
August 1st Mike was let go. We don't know if it was due to him taking off several times during lunch and working extra on Saturday and Sunday to make up the time if he was gone longer than half hour or what, but they were pretty obnoxious about it. Since we both missed Iowa he started jobhunting there, as well as in and around Sherman, Texas and on August 11th he had an interview in Hiawatha, Iowa. He would drive up on Monday, have the interview on Tuesday and drive back the same day as far as he could manage. He came home Tuesday night around 1 in the morning, because he had gotten a call from the doctors office while on his way to Iowa, saying the results were in. He explained that he was on his way to Iowa for a jobinterview, and asked if he needed to reschedule, but was told there was no need, so he made the appointment for wednesday at 11.30 and kept driving.
We got our answer almost as soon as we got into the room. Hodgkins Lymphoma, stage 3C. It rocked our world. I don't know why, but of all the possibilities, that one had not entered my mind. Chrohns disease was the worst I could get my head around. I don't know if Mike had considered it or not, but life for me, became a blur from than to about 2013, with snippits of memories.
I was to report to the hospital at 1PM, so the doctor would have time to get there, as she had a couple of patients still to see, so we had about an hour to get our barings. We only made it up to a parking lot half a blok from the doctors office before we broke down. We were completely at a loss on how to handle this little kink in the road. In a way, it was a relief to have an answer, on the other hand it was such a devastating verdict, it was hard to get our head around on what the future would/could look like.
At one I was checked in to a room and told to sit tight. As if I really had a choice :-) The doc came in, after taking blood, temperature and checking my eyes, and kinda went thru what was to come. That Thursday I was to have a couple of tests. One would be a bodyscan to see exactly how far the cancer had gone, the other would be a bonemarrow biopsy to see if it would stay a Stage 3 C or whether it would turn into Stage 4, at wich point she would have to adjust her current course of action. We should have the results on Friday, and the chemo would start shortly after, as soon as they could mix it up. Apparently it was personalized just for little ole me.....
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