After three
or so failed attempts at writing this blog post over this week, I’m settling
in: trauma behind me, coffee in front of me, cookie inside of me. It is a
dreary day at the end of a week of dreary days, but I got up enough energy to
make my first Chemex of coffee in months. We’re tired, that’s what. Marie and I
had to get up quite early this morning to make early appointments in Boston. It’s
never a favorite.
Today I got
my second Hickman catheter line taken out. I was very afraid of this.
Terrified. The last experience of getting the right side out was…beyond
traumatic. It was excruciating. The manboy performing the procedure clearly
didn’t know what he was doing: he had to leave to get more lidocaine (local
anesthetic: numbing stuff they syringe into you at the area) TWICE and even
after all the lidocaine I could SOMEHOW still FEEL him snipping and cutting and
hacking into my chest wall. I couldn’t control my flailing and screaming, that's how bad. And I
have to tell you, that I have a pretty high pain tolerance. Apparently once it switches
over into medieval torture, my reserves aren’t so deep…
All kidding
aside, it was the. most. painful experience of my entire life. I could not do
that again. Thinking about it would make me cry and panic attacks were trotting
not far behind.
However,
today for removal #2, the doctor assured me that it will be absolutely nothing
like what happened last time; that he does multiple of these procedures every
day (my rookie for #1 had probably just graduated high school.). If for some
reason the pain came again as he’s going, we’ll stop and move to a procedure
room, and they’ll give me some heavier drugs to knock me out. This sounded
reasonable. So, properly Ativan-ed, I agreed to let the doctor take it out the
way they usually do it. The doctor was very reassuring, he set the site,
cleaned the area, gave my some lidocaine, told me to take a deep breath and
hum, and viola it’s out. I was shocked. The last one took over an hour of this
child-man hacking away into my chest and me crying out in agony. This one was
over before I knew he was actually doing anything. Unmitigated Success. No More Cyborg.
So we came
home, and I made some celebratory coffee and put on some trashy TV for the
background of this post (Say Yes to the Dress, all day errday)
Now, for
some catch-up. As you may imagine, a lot has happened since my last post,
millions of years ago. Honestly, most of October was spent in the hospital for
one thing or another. One week after I got out post-transplant, I was back in
for dehydration (the most common cause of re-hospitalization. Believe me when I
say it’s harder to stay hydrated than you would ever imagine! I can’t explain
it). I also suffered from extreme body pains, muscle spasms, and lots of itchy rashes
and fevers that make time go by at a confusing rate. Then suddenly it’s
Halloween, which I spent in the hospital as well, sleeping most of the day as
usual. After it all, they said the closest they could get to diagnosis for all
the rashes and body aches etc. was some sort of viral meningitis. Because it
was viral, we had to just let it run its course, treating the symptoms along
the way. Honestly, most of October is a blur to me.
November.
It’s hard to sum it up, but it was a more emotionally drained month, overall. I
didn’t see too many people, I didn’t feel like socializing—which is very unlike
me, so I knew something was up. I mean, cancer sucks, there’s going to be down
days, and I accept that. But the trend had been moving toward the negative,
almost exclusively. There wasn’t much to do… I waded through the muck, hoping
to arrive at another side. I watched a lot of Netflix. I slept. A lot. I didn’t
have the energy to write anything because I felt I had nothing to say, except
maybe to whine, but that didn’t sound appealing or cathartic either.
So, even
though it is corny to do so, I’m going to make a list of things that I am
thankful for.
I need to
remind myself that everything does not suck.
- Blood counts
have been great! (no transfusions since before my transplant!)
- Liver
counts are approaching normal!
- I can now
take a shower without having the fuss of covering my lines that never worked to
stay dry in the first place!
- we’re
cutting down on some medications
- Marie, for
her constant care and love towards me.
- the towel
warmer in the bathroom
- LUSH bath
products, especially their bath melts. holy. holy. holy. cow.
- heated
blankets
- 30 more
days until I can eat salad. (day 100!)
- the
bittiest amounts of grandpa hairs are growing in! (also wily eyebrows)
- tis the
season for Christmas cookies
So with
hopes that perhaps it will not rain for the rest of our lives, here’s to the
sun. Hope we see you soon, brother.
