Cancer Journal

April 19, 2003

I am scheduled for the portacath placement next Friday. The insurance company representative tells the surgery center that they have not received a referral from my PPP. Hmmm. That's the same thing they told the hospital prior to my lumpectomy. At that time, as now, I knew that a copy had been received be the insurance company because they faxed the surgeon's office a confirmation of receipt. What a pain. There is fear that they will find a way to not cover their portion of my medical expenses. What do I do if the insurance company finds a way to drop me? How do people get treatment who are uninsured? On top of receiving notice that I am not only immortal but that immortality is standing face to face with me, I must butt heads with the insurance company every week. It is a battle on so many fronts.

April 24, 2003

Worked a bit this week. I was glad to be doing something that felt normal. The portacath placement went okay. I wonder what they do to me while I'm under anesthesia - my back hurts. It hurts to breathe, to cough or to hiccup. Wish there was a chiropractor in the house. Grief was the emotion for the week. Last week I was still angry and praying for the diagnosis to be a big mistake. This week I am sad that I, or anyone, must go through the treatment. It's odd to think that I have a possibly fatal disease when I feel so healthy.

April 29, 2003

My back hurt after the portacath placement because there was blood seeping into my right lung. The day after the procedure I went to the emergency room and was admitted. A chest tube was placed. I had oxygen and IV's running. There were lots of tubes here and there. I was very uncomfortable. Have to say, it was painful. Sent home yesterday. Breathing is still difficult but coming along. I have a breathing toy given to me by the respiratory therapist that I deep breathe with every hour or two. Set myself up for the "Queen" (see May, 2003 Newsletter). The setup itself tired me out. Once I was laid back in position the lungs were so open that muscles would spasm. It was quite interesting (and painful). After about 5 minutes I was able to find an equilibrium and enjoyed the pose (mostly) for the rest of the 25 minutes I had set. This was real evidence to me that even under poor circumstances the 'Queen' can deepen your breathing.

See my oncologist today. We will schedule the chemo treatments.

May 4, 2003

Lying in set bandha and viparita karani were okay this week, painful to get into, but once settled in, okay. While in these postures my breath in the right lung (the one that had the chest tube earlier) sounded and felt like water moving over gravel. There was an observable grating type of sound, as well as feeling. Still, my breathing continues to improve each day – as measured by the breathing toy respiratory therapy sent me home with. My personal best breath in is more than twice my day’s personal best the day I was discharged.

Yesterday I set myself up in the Queen. When the timer went off at 25 minutes I decided I would lie there for a while longer. Nearly an hour later I woke up. Getting up from this posture was the turning point. After that was when I could say, “Man, don’t I feel good.” It was the finest I have felt in, I’m sure, 3 weeks. Very little pain and I could breathe fairly well. Mostly, it seemed like a fog had lifted. I have been nauseous and having trouble eating. The last few days have also had a terrible headache which is untouched by the pain medicine. I think I am having an allergic reaction to the blooming of the oak trees. Many people are. The only good thing about this is that it makes me cough. I am more short of breath. Darn.

Began thinking about the chemo to come Tuesday. Now, that I’m feeling better I’m thinking clearly. I am absolutely terrified. I want to cry. I want to find a way out. When I visited with Dr. Beck this past Tuesday I asked again if there hadn’t been a mistake. I wouldn’t mind. I would take an error in diagnosis as a gift. It is my goal to drum up positive attitude about the chemo before going in. I want to be helpful. I want to help the drug do its stuff. I just really don’t want to do this at all. With the nausea I have had this week for, as far as I can tell, little or no reason I am worried that the jolt next week will put me in the bathroom for sure. I hate throwing up. I hate being nauseous. I would rather be in pain than sick to my stomach.

I wonder why I haven’t cried more.

My plan:

Daily meditation

Visualization, especially during treatments

More anti-oxidants in my diet and through supplements

Make it to a support group meeting (Friday, when I was going to introduce myself to the group at Ozark Natural Foods, I was too tired. I literally slept all day. Felt it was a better investment and certainly one I could complete – sleeping vs. talking to people.)

Work with my treatments. See them as helpers.

Daily pranayama.

Daily yoga.

Daily tai chi.

Daily walking and daily walking with chi kung.

Herbs and acupuncture from my Chinese Medicine doctor.

Get more information from Naturopathic physician and dietician.

This week I just have to get my hair cut. I meant to last week. Also, need to investigate scarves and maybe a wig. I can go to the Cancer Support Home first in terms of the wig. I will check out Spinning Star for fabrics to make scarves. But, I need to plan on a bald head.

I smell bad. I don’t use deodorant on the side where the lumpectomy was. Also, there is hair growing there to catch the odor. I am slowly becoming accustomed to the look of it. But, I still don’t like that I smell all the time. I wash, and it isn’t an hour later when the odor is present. My urine smells different from before. My stools are yellow. Even though I’m not going through a treatment yet, there are already physiologic changes. And, I don’t know if they are good or not. They just are. I’m already a different anatomy.

Last night I dreamed quite a bit. There were so many people in the dream, so many activities. It was like about 5 dreams in one. I was attractive in the dream. People liked me in the dream. I was getting things done. I had sex (twice). I couldn’t find my jeans. There was a meeting and fund raiser with cancer survivors. We had soup. My dad was alive. It was just too much dream to try to relate.

Tuesday Lori will take me to Rogers and attend the yoga class. Afterwards we will hit Iron Horse for a great veggie sandwich. She will then drop me off at the clinic. I will walk in armed with the support of many people, a Simonton tape, a book, a journal, a coloring book, a shawl (or 2), and a veggie sandwich warming my belly. I pray for the best. I am planning to teach class that evening.

I have filled the prescriptions for nausea. Wouldn’t it be great if I didn’t need them?

Top

Go to Next Page in Journal

Return to Cancer and Exercise Index