Greetings everyone,
It's amazing how different I can feel from one day to the next. Had a wonderful time with Peter over the weekend. Got two 6-7 hour passes from the hospital. We tried a couple of new restaurants, went to a movie, hung out at his house, and watched the Game on Sunday. I was feeling so good during the Game, for a few hours I completely forgot I have leukemia. I was able to drive myself back to the hospital that evening for the first time to begin my chemo preparation. I think the contrast from the weekend "out" and then coming back to a difficult round of chemo got to me Sunday night....I slumped and had to really work on my perspective the next morning. Felt completely whiped out, emotionally too, so I prayed deeply for some encouragement, some comfort and support as I waited for my lumbar pucture to begin at 1 p.m. I literally "stormed the gates of heaven".....
Comfort came quickly in the form of a visit from Peter and a couple of doses of Western's best: 1 mg of dilaudid pain killer and 0.5 mg of adavan, a relaxant. The two worked like a charm. I hardly remember anything about the puncture, except that I was light-headed AND light-hearted. No fear or anxiety whatsoever! Peter was here holding me and I think I even dozed off during the procedure! After it was done they laid me down and I slept all the way to 5 p.m. It was magical to see how well the procedure went and that I had such a sense of well being in my body when sleeping throughout the day. The memory of how well yesterday went is with me still today, as a beautiful response of Grace. To go from intense anxiety and depression in the morning, to smiles and even cheeriness by evening, is truly remarkable!
This morning I woke up without a headache for the first time in weeks. My WBC went from 4.7 yesterday to 11.3 today. Actually, the 11.3 is "high normal" and rarely makes a jump like that in a day. The doctor says it may point to an infection (perhaps in my lungs), but regardless it is a good sign that my body can produce that level of WBC, he said. My plateletts went from 150 to 187 -- a really good jump too. Some Leukemia patients can't get their counts that high ever, I've heard.
I have two more times today that I have to take the potassium pills (they are truly yucky) to keep me in a good heart rhythm -- and two more times of pill form methotrexate, the chemo I'm on during this round. By tonight they will have me on the antidote for the metatrexate and by Thursday I should be off all IV and thinking about coming home for a week before starting all the treatments over again during my second half. Peter and I are going to celebrate the half way mark in some way this weekend.
When I was first admitted in November last year, 6 months of the hospital seemed mentally and emotionally out of reach. I just couldn't grasp the enormity of it. It is HUGE to have been through all the treatment now, know what's coming and that it should be easier the second time around because, as the doctor said, my "cancer load" is much less (or completely non-existent) right now. Imagine how wonderful and upbeat I will feel after the next treatment is done and by March I should have just 2 more left.....or six (plus) more weeks in the hospital -- compared to six months!
I'm getting there, my dear friends. It has been so heartwarming to travel this road with all of you cheering me on. There have been brief moments when walking out has gone through my mind...never seriously entertained, I might add. The deeper part of me is committed to going through with everything to give myself the best shot at getting every Leukemia cell. It will be a new day when I can begin focusing more intensely on building my body up. A Naturopathic doctor sent me this website about some research on Vit. D and D3 for cancer, for anyone who's interested: http://www.vitamindcouncil.org/researchCancer.shtml There are so many good nutritional things I want to begin to incorporate when I'm in the outpatient phase of the treatment.
I've been painting again. Feels good.
Sending my love to each one of you.....
Heidi
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
A Rough Week
Hi Friends,
This was my second week of the chemotherapy called methotrexate, and a difficult one. I haven't felt up to too much communication, so I apologize if some of you didn't hear back from me if you called. The Methotrexate has built up in my system now and so the side effects are more pronounced than the first week. I have one more week of this particular chemo to go before I reach the half way point (of the hospitalization portion) of my treatment.
Yesterday (Thursday) my white blood count went down a bit and my chronic cough got worse. I'm learning that the path to regaining my health is not going to be linear. It's more like 3 steps forward, 2 backward. However, Dr. Liao gave me a wonderful perspective during his visit in the morning. His words were a life raft in this seemingly shoreless ocean of chemo, nausea and pain.... He said "Heidi, you are doing above average with the treatment. Actually, how you are responding is superior to others I've seen." And I could hear the sincerity and enthusiasm in his voice.
It is so important to hear words of encouragement and perspective from those who have experience with Leukemia. My nurse last night also told me how well I'm doing....."I've seen many, many Leukemia patients in my career and let me tell you, Heidi, you are doing really, really good."
I take these words with me into the daily battle -- doing my best to remain positive and to go the full 9 yards with this difficult treatment. For example, this morning I can't even imagine another lumbar puncture this next Monday and going through yet another week of Methotrexate. So I don't look ahead...except to this weekend when I hope to get out of the hospital and play a bit, energy permitting.
The most challenging aspect of this right now is the sheer length of time of not feeling good with only a little respite now and then from the pain medication. It is a journey of utmost GRIT!! There is no going half way.... Dr. Liao said if only one leukemia cell is there, I would have a relapse in the future. So I'm taking every pill they give me, every IV, every injection.... I'm fighting this with all I have. I am absolutely determined to be in that 40% that gets to the 5 year point (and beyond) with no relapse!!
There are moments, like this morning, when all I want is some tenderness....something to offset the rough, sharp edges of this experience. Something soft and easy. There are moments of tears when I just can't get down another yucky potion that is there to help me, but makes me even more nauseous in doing so. But get it down I do, and I wake up to another day....closer to my goal, closer to the end, closer to a new, brighter chapter of my life.
Today, if up to it, I'm going to take a longer walk outside. I'm no longer hooked up to my IV as of this morning...so am freer to get around. I'm also going to do some art. I haven't felt inspired to do anything creative in such a long time, and even today it seems like a bit of an effort. But I feel it will help me....
That's it for now.... will post again soon. Meanwhile, my love and hugs to each of you!
Heidi
This was my second week of the chemotherapy called methotrexate, and a difficult one. I haven't felt up to too much communication, so I apologize if some of you didn't hear back from me if you called. The Methotrexate has built up in my system now and so the side effects are more pronounced than the first week. I have one more week of this particular chemo to go before I reach the half way point (of the hospitalization portion) of my treatment.
Yesterday (Thursday) my white blood count went down a bit and my chronic cough got worse. I'm learning that the path to regaining my health is not going to be linear. It's more like 3 steps forward, 2 backward. However, Dr. Liao gave me a wonderful perspective during his visit in the morning. His words were a life raft in this seemingly shoreless ocean of chemo, nausea and pain.... He said "Heidi, you are doing above average with the treatment. Actually, how you are responding is superior to others I've seen." And I could hear the sincerity and enthusiasm in his voice.
It is so important to hear words of encouragement and perspective from those who have experience with Leukemia. My nurse last night also told me how well I'm doing....."I've seen many, many Leukemia patients in my career and let me tell you, Heidi, you are doing really, really good."
I take these words with me into the daily battle -- doing my best to remain positive and to go the full 9 yards with this difficult treatment. For example, this morning I can't even imagine another lumbar puncture this next Monday and going through yet another week of Methotrexate. So I don't look ahead...except to this weekend when I hope to get out of the hospital and play a bit, energy permitting.
The most challenging aspect of this right now is the sheer length of time of not feeling good with only a little respite now and then from the pain medication. It is a journey of utmost GRIT!! There is no going half way.... Dr. Liao said if only one leukemia cell is there, I would have a relapse in the future. So I'm taking every pill they give me, every IV, every injection.... I'm fighting this with all I have. I am absolutely determined to be in that 40% that gets to the 5 year point (and beyond) with no relapse!!
There are moments, like this morning, when all I want is some tenderness....something to offset the rough, sharp edges of this experience. Something soft and easy. There are moments of tears when I just can't get down another yucky potion that is there to help me, but makes me even more nauseous in doing so. But get it down I do, and I wake up to another day....closer to my goal, closer to the end, closer to a new, brighter chapter of my life.
Today, if up to it, I'm going to take a longer walk outside. I'm no longer hooked up to my IV as of this morning...so am freer to get around. I'm also going to do some art. I haven't felt inspired to do anything creative in such a long time, and even today it seems like a bit of an effort. But I feel it will help me....
That's it for now.... will post again soon. Meanwhile, my love and hugs to each of you!
Heidi
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Greetings everyone...
There is so much spaciousness in this day. The nurses aren't coming in as often. My treatment is on hold, for the most part, until later tonight when they begin the sodium bicarbonate in preparation for my second rigorous round of methotrexate this week. I'm sitting in my hospital bed with little to do. If I were home now, I would be more active, perhaps creating some art. But here there is just this hospital bed, a window looking out at the brick wall of the wing next door, and the TV which I'm determined not to turn on. This hospital floor seems very quiet to me at the moment.
I have heard there is another patient around my age with my type of Leukemia on this same floor. She isn't doing so well as she has the Philadelphia chromosome. I wish I knew her room number so we could chat (if she wished), share notes, and be a support to one another. It's the second time in two days that I've heard of women in the hospital with ALL who have the chromosome and aren't doing well. I am so grateful to have dodged the bullet of that chromosome. There must be some purpose in that, and it gives me deep hope that this disease has come, not to take my life, but to free me to live more of life.
My blood counts continue to be spectacular (blessings and gratitude to my body for being so responsive and such a warrior!) Today they went up yet again (a good thing) and all of them are in the normal range, just a few days after the methotrexate. The more I learn about ALL, the more I understand that this is no small feat...and consquently, the more grateful I am to those mysical, magical forces within that bring life and healing.
I didn't feel quite well enough to be home this weekend and am not feeling "sick" enough to lay around the hospital all day. Fortunately, I got a day pass yesterday. Peter and I went out to lunch, then to a sweet little neighborhood park where we laid on Mother Earth for about an hour in silence, snuggling.....then to Coldstone, where I got a DELICIOUS banana caramel crunch, and finally to the movie True Grit. I had been out a little over 6 hours and was exhausted when we got back. Felt sooo good to stretch out and give myself over to this strange place I've been calling home for the last 3 months....
Today I get another day pass and Peter and I will drive up to my house to pick up some art supplies so I can have some creative focus during the next two weeks. It will help, believe me, as I'll be going back down, down, down into the dark chemo cavern: spinal chemo, brain fog, nausea, bone pain, blood transfusions....for the second week in a row.
It is a journey of utmost surrender. If I try to look for an escape hatch, I find none. There can be a sense of being trapped by pain, for there is nothing I can do with my will force to change "what is" except keep positive thoughts, feelings, images, and the love of family and friends very near to my heart. When the occasional tears come, I can feel compassion for my human-ness. What happens to us doesn't doesn't define us, but how we respond to it does.... This experience is forging within a new strength I didn't know I had.
What gets me through sometimes is the knowledge that this experience will have an end. There will be a day when I walk out of the hospital (I will frame my discharge papers!). Life, with all its potential, will be there to greet me. I will be somehow freer inside, perhaps a little wiser and stronger, and more giving. I know I will not take things for granted as I used to. Like health. And I know that LOVE is truly all that matters in the end. This experience has shown me that in spades. Love and service to others. This desire to help others go through Leukemia is growing within me. I'll definitely be looking for some ways to volunteer.
Much love to all my friends and family who are keeping up with my progress. Your caring means so much!
Heidi
There is so much spaciousness in this day. The nurses aren't coming in as often. My treatment is on hold, for the most part, until later tonight when they begin the sodium bicarbonate in preparation for my second rigorous round of methotrexate this week. I'm sitting in my hospital bed with little to do. If I were home now, I would be more active, perhaps creating some art. But here there is just this hospital bed, a window looking out at the brick wall of the wing next door, and the TV which I'm determined not to turn on. This hospital floor seems very quiet to me at the moment.
I have heard there is another patient around my age with my type of Leukemia on this same floor. She isn't doing so well as she has the Philadelphia chromosome. I wish I knew her room number so we could chat (if she wished), share notes, and be a support to one another. It's the second time in two days that I've heard of women in the hospital with ALL who have the chromosome and aren't doing well. I am so grateful to have dodged the bullet of that chromosome. There must be some purpose in that, and it gives me deep hope that this disease has come, not to take my life, but to free me to live more of life.
My blood counts continue to be spectacular (blessings and gratitude to my body for being so responsive and such a warrior!) Today they went up yet again (a good thing) and all of them are in the normal range, just a few days after the methotrexate. The more I learn about ALL, the more I understand that this is no small feat...and consquently, the more grateful I am to those mysical, magical forces within that bring life and healing.
I didn't feel quite well enough to be home this weekend and am not feeling "sick" enough to lay around the hospital all day. Fortunately, I got a day pass yesterday. Peter and I went out to lunch, then to a sweet little neighborhood park where we laid on Mother Earth for about an hour in silence, snuggling.....then to Coldstone, where I got a DELICIOUS banana caramel crunch, and finally to the movie True Grit. I had been out a little over 6 hours and was exhausted when we got back. Felt sooo good to stretch out and give myself over to this strange place I've been calling home for the last 3 months....
Today I get another day pass and Peter and I will drive up to my house to pick up some art supplies so I can have some creative focus during the next two weeks. It will help, believe me, as I'll be going back down, down, down into the dark chemo cavern: spinal chemo, brain fog, nausea, bone pain, blood transfusions....for the second week in a row.
It is a journey of utmost surrender. If I try to look for an escape hatch, I find none. There can be a sense of being trapped by pain, for there is nothing I can do with my will force to change "what is" except keep positive thoughts, feelings, images, and the love of family and friends very near to my heart. When the occasional tears come, I can feel compassion for my human-ness. What happens to us doesn't doesn't define us, but how we respond to it does.... This experience is forging within a new strength I didn't know I had.
What gets me through sometimes is the knowledge that this experience will have an end. There will be a day when I walk out of the hospital (I will frame my discharge papers!). Life, with all its potential, will be there to greet me. I will be somehow freer inside, perhaps a little wiser and stronger, and more giving. I know I will not take things for granted as I used to. Like health. And I know that LOVE is truly all that matters in the end. This experience has shown me that in spades. Love and service to others. This desire to help others go through Leukemia is growing within me. I'll definitely be looking for some ways to volunteer.
Much love to all my friends and family who are keeping up with my progress. Your caring means so much!
Heidi
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Request for Blood Donations
Hi sweet friends and well-wishers!
I am always so touched by your comments about my blog entries....this last batch was especially fun and heart-warming to read. Yes to writing a book! I almost signed up for an online mentoring process to help first time writers get their books out in one year. Am not 100% sure that I'm up to the energy output at this time, but that day WILL come. I'm touched by your encouragement!
I'm beginning to see just a crack of light at the end of the tunnel of my hospital treatment. The doctor told me yesterday that the next phase (beginning in June) will be so much easier on me. June is really not that far away. This third course of chemo is well under way and then I'm on a fast track toward the end...countdown just 3 quick little months .... and then so much more of my life comes back.
There are several significant factors in my favor toward my remaining in a full long-term remission -- I caught the Leukemia so soon, got into a remission after the first chemo treatment, and have the best proven care. I'm surrounded by so much love and light. You can tell I'm feeling upbeat today. One of you wrote "Screw welcoming the pain. Welcome the wellness!" Thank you for the reminder. It gets tricky when there is so much discomfort.... Easy to forget at times to focus on the glimmers of hope and well-being.
This week is a blur. I slept nearly 72 hours off and on (mostly on). Yesterday I couldn't interact at all with the 3rd dimension. People came and went into and out of my room... I could squeeze a hand or two to let them know I knew they were there, but I was out of it, more so than at any other time since beginning my treatment. There was nothing to do but surrender, to let go and to trust that life would come back, as it did this morning. It is a strange experience indeed when there is absolutely nothing you (or the doctors) can do to stir the life force sufficiently. It has its own miraculous time-line.
I go through this chemo cycle for the next 2 weeks. It's a very intense cycle. If all goes well, however, I will get a "day pass" this weekend on Sat. and Sunday and can take a drive & perhaps, if I have an appetite, get something to eat when I'm out. I've developed a "conditioned" response to the hospital food -- even the smell of the trays in the hallway makes me gag. I'm told this is not unusual for chemo patients. There is nothing on the hospital menu that appeals to me. No doubt more pounds will be dropping off. I haven't weighed so little since I was in my 30's!
If any of you have the inclination to donate blood to my cause, it would be very much appreciated. My blood type is A positive, but I believe you can have A negative, A, O positive, etc. and I can still use your blood. Am anticipating needing more transfusions and it is a great comfort knowing that I'm receiving blood from a known source. All you have to do is ask them to ear-mark it for Sherry (Heidi) Hall at the Kaiser Permanente hospital in San Diego and they will make sure I get it.
Much sweet love to all of you. I feel your support profoundly each day...
Heidi
I am always so touched by your comments about my blog entries....this last batch was especially fun and heart-warming to read. Yes to writing a book! I almost signed up for an online mentoring process to help first time writers get their books out in one year. Am not 100% sure that I'm up to the energy output at this time, but that day WILL come. I'm touched by your encouragement!
I'm beginning to see just a crack of light at the end of the tunnel of my hospital treatment. The doctor told me yesterday that the next phase (beginning in June) will be so much easier on me. June is really not that far away. This third course of chemo is well under way and then I'm on a fast track toward the end...countdown just 3 quick little months .... and then so much more of my life comes back.
There are several significant factors in my favor toward my remaining in a full long-term remission -- I caught the Leukemia so soon, got into a remission after the first chemo treatment, and have the best proven care. I'm surrounded by so much love and light. You can tell I'm feeling upbeat today. One of you wrote "Screw welcoming the pain. Welcome the wellness!" Thank you for the reminder. It gets tricky when there is so much discomfort.... Easy to forget at times to focus on the glimmers of hope and well-being.
This week is a blur. I slept nearly 72 hours off and on (mostly on). Yesterday I couldn't interact at all with the 3rd dimension. People came and went into and out of my room... I could squeeze a hand or two to let them know I knew they were there, but I was out of it, more so than at any other time since beginning my treatment. There was nothing to do but surrender, to let go and to trust that life would come back, as it did this morning. It is a strange experience indeed when there is absolutely nothing you (or the doctors) can do to stir the life force sufficiently. It has its own miraculous time-line.
I go through this chemo cycle for the next 2 weeks. It's a very intense cycle. If all goes well, however, I will get a "day pass" this weekend on Sat. and Sunday and can take a drive & perhaps, if I have an appetite, get something to eat when I'm out. I've developed a "conditioned" response to the hospital food -- even the smell of the trays in the hallway makes me gag. I'm told this is not unusual for chemo patients. There is nothing on the hospital menu that appeals to me. No doubt more pounds will be dropping off. I haven't weighed so little since I was in my 30's!
If any of you have the inclination to donate blood to my cause, it would be very much appreciated. My blood type is A positive, but I believe you can have A negative, A, O positive, etc. and I can still use your blood. Am anticipating needing more transfusions and it is a great comfort knowing that I'm receiving blood from a known source. All you have to do is ask them to ear-mark it for Sherry (Heidi) Hall at the Kaiser Permanente hospital in San Diego and they will make sure I get it.
Much sweet love to all of you. I feel your support profoundly each day...
Heidi
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Progress
Greetings!
I'm on another chemo safari for the next three weeks, with unexpected twists and turns. Each hill and valley gives me new vistas and new challenges. Woke up this morning determined to traverse the day with grit, but the lumbar puncture was a bit more than I could bear. My stoic attitude began to break down when the needle didn't get into the right spot and the doctor (too inexperienced in my opinion) kept having to poke it in and out, each time with excruciating pain. Finally, after about 20 mins. of pure agony, the chemo went in and the needle could come out, for good... Needless (needle-less??) to say, I will request another doctor for next week!!!!
This was all on top of just 1-2 hours of sleep last night -- a loooooong night of chemo and a substance called sodium bicarbonate to protect my kidneys. Today I have to drink at least a half gallon of liquid in order to avoid developing kidney stones. With that much liquid going into me last night (about another half gallon of the sodium bicarbonate and the chemo), you can imagine what I was doing every 10-15 mins.!!! Sleep was impossible.
So this safari (so far) has taken me on a ride into some rocky places. There were some bright "vistas" along the way, however. Some wonderful people stopped by my room -- hospital staff and a good friend, Mel), and Peter was there during the puncture to offer moral support and humor. He developed this "warrior" song and dance that always brings a smile to my face, even during the most painful part of the procedure.
An elderly woman who volunteers here at the hospital just brought me a warm, homemade chocolate chip cookie. Delicious! Will soon try to take a nap. The blinds are drawn, lights out (it's the middle of the day) and I'm all tucked in this fairly comfortable hosp. bed. No interruptions for a few hours. There is so much of this mexatrexate in me at this point I can literally taste it in my mouth. Yuck!
As I was laying in bed last night I kept repeating these words over and over again, trying to feel them deeply in every fiber of my being: "My body cells are made of Light. It permeates every particle of my being. I am living in that Light. This healing Light fills me within and without." It helped shift my attention from the chemo. I need this shift more than the other earlier treatments as I begin to understand and feel the side effects of the chemo more.
Peter reminded me during the puncture to welcome the pain and not resist it. In all honesty, I found that exceedingly difficult...though if some of that welcoming filtered through just by a crack, which I think it did, it helped get me through. I love the reminders to welcome life's experiences , hard as it is sometimes, and to know that there is purpose here. I can create purpose and destiny by how I meet them each day.
I am looking forward to a beautiful pond just around the jagged corner of my sojourn..with birds singing and soft grasses waving gently in the breeze... When I keep this journey in perspective, that day is truly not too far off
Love to all of you, Heidi
I'm on another chemo safari for the next three weeks, with unexpected twists and turns. Each hill and valley gives me new vistas and new challenges. Woke up this morning determined to traverse the day with grit, but the lumbar puncture was a bit more than I could bear. My stoic attitude began to break down when the needle didn't get into the right spot and the doctor (too inexperienced in my opinion) kept having to poke it in and out, each time with excruciating pain. Finally, after about 20 mins. of pure agony, the chemo went in and the needle could come out, for good... Needless (needle-less??) to say, I will request another doctor for next week!!!!
This was all on top of just 1-2 hours of sleep last night -- a loooooong night of chemo and a substance called sodium bicarbonate to protect my kidneys. Today I have to drink at least a half gallon of liquid in order to avoid developing kidney stones. With that much liquid going into me last night (about another half gallon of the sodium bicarbonate and the chemo), you can imagine what I was doing every 10-15 mins.!!! Sleep was impossible.
So this safari (so far) has taken me on a ride into some rocky places. There were some bright "vistas" along the way, however. Some wonderful people stopped by my room -- hospital staff and a good friend, Mel), and Peter was there during the puncture to offer moral support and humor. He developed this "warrior" song and dance that always brings a smile to my face, even during the most painful part of the procedure.
An elderly woman who volunteers here at the hospital just brought me a warm, homemade chocolate chip cookie. Delicious! Will soon try to take a nap. The blinds are drawn, lights out (it's the middle of the day) and I'm all tucked in this fairly comfortable hosp. bed. No interruptions for a few hours. There is so much of this mexatrexate in me at this point I can literally taste it in my mouth. Yuck!
As I was laying in bed last night I kept repeating these words over and over again, trying to feel them deeply in every fiber of my being: "My body cells are made of Light. It permeates every particle of my being. I am living in that Light. This healing Light fills me within and without." It helped shift my attention from the chemo. I need this shift more than the other earlier treatments as I begin to understand and feel the side effects of the chemo more.
Peter reminded me during the puncture to welcome the pain and not resist it. In all honesty, I found that exceedingly difficult...though if some of that welcoming filtered through just by a crack, which I think it did, it helped get me through. I love the reminders to welcome life's experiences , hard as it is sometimes, and to know that there is purpose here. I can create purpose and destiny by how I meet them each day.
I am looking forward to a beautiful pond just around the jagged corner of my sojourn..with birds singing and soft grasses waving gently in the breeze... When I keep this journey in perspective, that day is truly not too far off
Love to all of you, Heidi
Saturday, January 22, 2011
A Glorious Weekend before the Hospital...again
Hi Everyone,
I'm making the most of this beautiful San Diego weather this weekend, before my hospital journey begins again on Monday...feeling the warm sun on my skin, listening to the birds sing without a care in the world, looking out at the vastness of sea and sky. Peter is here this weekend. I gave him a hair cut and trimmed his beard. These quiet Saturday mornings are so different from my supremely focused active life before Leukemia, and it is good to allow the moments to soak in without thought of the future or the past.
I found a wonderful acupuncturist just 15 mins. from my house. Went to two appts. this week for the nausea and they really seemed to help. We discussed the side effects from chemo -- he has experience with oncology support. I look forward to connecting with him periodically to help me through the inevitable pain and discomfort as my body receives more of this oddly healing poison.
I'm finding myself looking ahead just a bit, now that just 3 months remain to the hospital part of my treatment. Two weeks at home showed me how gradual my strength comes back. I innocently felt it would be back almost full force by now...eating well, sleeping well, for the most part, and having the last chemo treatment a good month ago (not counting the 10 min. spinal chemo I had two weeks ago). I have heard that it can take many moons to recover from chemo and, once again, patience is needed. Great patience. More patience than I've ever had to must so far in these 60 years....
For those of you who have written me personal messages offering support of various kinds, please know that I have taken them all to heart and very much appreciate your suggestions. This blog doesn't allow me to reply personally, so if you'd like to hear from me, please give me your email address in your message. I am always open for visits too -- whether in the hosp. or home.
My blood counts are great right now! After a very high ALT liver count (indicating potential damage to my liver), in just one week the level is back to the normal range. It was very encouraging to see how quickly it recovered by just eliminating some of the drugs I was taking! I keep talking to my liver and organs telling them to hang in there through the next several months to a year!
Time for the shot in my stomach and then another avocado and dill pickle sandwich!
Love and Hugs to all of you....
Heidi
I'm making the most of this beautiful San Diego weather this weekend, before my hospital journey begins again on Monday...feeling the warm sun on my skin, listening to the birds sing without a care in the world, looking out at the vastness of sea and sky. Peter is here this weekend. I gave him a hair cut and trimmed his beard. These quiet Saturday mornings are so different from my supremely focused active life before Leukemia, and it is good to allow the moments to soak in without thought of the future or the past.
I found a wonderful acupuncturist just 15 mins. from my house. Went to two appts. this week for the nausea and they really seemed to help. We discussed the side effects from chemo -- he has experience with oncology support. I look forward to connecting with him periodically to help me through the inevitable pain and discomfort as my body receives more of this oddly healing poison.
I'm finding myself looking ahead just a bit, now that just 3 months remain to the hospital part of my treatment. Two weeks at home showed me how gradual my strength comes back. I innocently felt it would be back almost full force by now...eating well, sleeping well, for the most part, and having the last chemo treatment a good month ago (not counting the 10 min. spinal chemo I had two weeks ago). I have heard that it can take many moons to recover from chemo and, once again, patience is needed. Great patience. More patience than I've ever had to must so far in these 60 years....
For those of you who have written me personal messages offering support of various kinds, please know that I have taken them all to heart and very much appreciate your suggestions. This blog doesn't allow me to reply personally, so if you'd like to hear from me, please give me your email address in your message. I am always open for visits too -- whether in the hosp. or home.
My blood counts are great right now! After a very high ALT liver count (indicating potential damage to my liver), in just one week the level is back to the normal range. It was very encouraging to see how quickly it recovered by just eliminating some of the drugs I was taking! I keep talking to my liver and organs telling them to hang in there through the next several months to a year!
Time for the shot in my stomach and then another avocado and dill pickle sandwich!
Love and Hugs to all of you....
Heidi
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Hi Everyone,
Still a few more days at home....am starting to prepare myself mentally for the next hospital session. For the first time in 9 weeks I can walk for about 30 mins. on my own steam and take short trips out (once a day for 30 mins). After "feeling into" the trip Peter and I had planned for this weekend to the desert we've decided that it would be more prudent to postpone it for sometime in the future when I can truly celebrate my recovery, when nausea is a distant dream, and energy flows through my body with much higher intensity than it does now! It was a tough decision, but after it was made, I felt at peace.
I have always had a tendency to become too active too soon when unwell....a pattern I am dedicating to changing on this healing journey. I realized, through the cautionary words of a good friend, that ALL my energy needs to go into healing right now. There will be plenty of time for travel in the future...
I'll be posting a fun photo soon -- be sure to check it out. I haven't yet shown my beautiful bald head! Now you can see it in an interesting photo out in Peter's backyard. It is self explanatory....but here's a hint: I took a tumble... Fortunately, Peter and I erupted in prolonged laughter...
There are so many lessons in this Leukemia. Not having "control" over my body (energy-wise) calls for such deep surrender. My active nature -- a habit of a lifetime -- rises up inside me ....but all I have is a simmer. There is no "boil" at the moment. Try as I may with my will, my limbs are weak and I must honor, with patience, the slow healing and recovery process. I had thought I would be motivated to do many things when home these two weeks. Have been surprised by how sedentary I have been, how quickly the day goes by...how fleeting time truly is.
One interesting thing to share before signing off... my taste buds have truly been (temporarily) altered through the chemo. There are so few foods that sound good to me and many, many that I simply cannot get down. My latest fav? Avocado sandwiches with dill pickles and plenty of lettuce and tomatoes. I eat them for lunch and dinner, and nothing else! Everything else -- pizza, quinoa, even my beloved greens -- are not in the mix at the moment. Very curious!
Kaiser is sending home health care to my house twice each week to check on me. I have only praise for Kaiser...the kindness and efficiency of 99% of the personnel I've come in contact with has been truly remarkable. Today Jeannie came by to change the dressing on my picc line which I opted to keep in my arm during my stay at home, rather than going through another "installment" episode next Monday when going back to the hosp. For those of you who don't know what a picc line is -- two tubes are inserted into the upper arm and "threaded" into a vein that goes into the chest. This is where they administer the chemo and other drugs. It can stay in the arm for a whole year!
Please feel free to call me any time and, when in the hospital, would love to see any of you! You are all my lifeline!
Much love!
Heidi
Still a few more days at home....am starting to prepare myself mentally for the next hospital session. For the first time in 9 weeks I can walk for about 30 mins. on my own steam and take short trips out (once a day for 30 mins). After "feeling into" the trip Peter and I had planned for this weekend to the desert we've decided that it would be more prudent to postpone it for sometime in the future when I can truly celebrate my recovery, when nausea is a distant dream, and energy flows through my body with much higher intensity than it does now! It was a tough decision, but after it was made, I felt at peace.
I have always had a tendency to become too active too soon when unwell....a pattern I am dedicating to changing on this healing journey. I realized, through the cautionary words of a good friend, that ALL my energy needs to go into healing right now. There will be plenty of time for travel in the future...
I'll be posting a fun photo soon -- be sure to check it out. I haven't yet shown my beautiful bald head! Now you can see it in an interesting photo out in Peter's backyard. It is self explanatory....but here's a hint: I took a tumble... Fortunately, Peter and I erupted in prolonged laughter...
There are so many lessons in this Leukemia. Not having "control" over my body (energy-wise) calls for such deep surrender. My active nature -- a habit of a lifetime -- rises up inside me ....but all I have is a simmer. There is no "boil" at the moment. Try as I may with my will, my limbs are weak and I must honor, with patience, the slow healing and recovery process. I had thought I would be motivated to do many things when home these two weeks. Have been surprised by how sedentary I have been, how quickly the day goes by...how fleeting time truly is.
One interesting thing to share before signing off... my taste buds have truly been (temporarily) altered through the chemo. There are so few foods that sound good to me and many, many that I simply cannot get down. My latest fav? Avocado sandwiches with dill pickles and plenty of lettuce and tomatoes. I eat them for lunch and dinner, and nothing else! Everything else -- pizza, quinoa, even my beloved greens -- are not in the mix at the moment. Very curious!
Kaiser is sending home health care to my house twice each week to check on me. I have only praise for Kaiser...the kindness and efficiency of 99% of the personnel I've come in contact with has been truly remarkable. Today Jeannie came by to change the dressing on my picc line which I opted to keep in my arm during my stay at home, rather than going through another "installment" episode next Monday when going back to the hosp. For those of you who don't know what a picc line is -- two tubes are inserted into the upper arm and "threaded" into a vein that goes into the chest. This is where they administer the chemo and other drugs. It can stay in the arm for a whole year!
Please feel free to call me any time and, when in the hospital, would love to see any of you! You are all my lifeline!
Much love!
Heidi
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