Tag Archives: optimism

A Bad Day

It’s hard to start with that title because right away you are already thinking “oh no! What can I do to help and how can I fix it for you”. I always win on the scale of all Bad Day scales. It has been a bad day, a hard day, a down day. I wrote about this once before with my Colors blog post. I’ve gotta say though, bad days are getting harder. I hate writing about them because I do suffer so strongly with the “Good Patient” syndrome, the “I just don’t want to make it harder for anyone by venting” syndrome.

Today I’m going to practice venting. I don’t do it very often because I really do believe we can choose how to live each day, but I know that doesn’t always work. We all have crap days, and the more honest about those days we are, the more we can help others who have crap days.

It starts when I get out of bed to go the bathroom. Sometimes I dream about just getting up and moving freely. I’m sure people who are paralyzed must do this. I think I have my long hair back for a second and make a move to brush it off my face, I go to stand up and then I remember it all. My whole torso hurts with the strain of standing up. I can’t stand up straight, no matter how hard I try, and when I go to take a step my right hip gives just a bit, but then my left hip hurts as I shift weight. I hope this is not what feeling old feels like. But, then again, I have to love the dark humor. I’m living to 57, but I know what it feels like to be 115, so who’s saying I died before my time?These last few days have been tough. I reached out to pick up my full glass of water with my arm straight out and pulled a muscle somewhere in my shoulder. It honestly hurts so bad that I’m having trouble making certain movements with it. I can’t hold it out straight from my body or lift it straight out. I’m not sure if I tore it, or pulled it, but I did something to it. There is the realization I can no longer walk more then 20 feet without a walker, and I need a wheelchair for longer distances. Then shame of all shames, I step on my toe so hard with my walker that I’m pretty sure I’m going to loose a toenail out of it all. See, you squirted wine or beer, or something, out your nose after reading that one, I know.

I say, “I want to go into Town” to get out of the house and out of this damn bedroom and bed (which I honestly love very much). But, by the time I’ve washed my face, brushed my teeth and gotten dressed, I have to lay down on that damn bed once again, because it hurts too much to keep standing. Of course, the other downer here is that I’ve been using a walker to get from one place to another this whole time.

We go to a beautiful restaurant and we sit outside and soak up the sun and beautiful day, but then I start crying on the way home because suddenly I realize that what I really want, is to be sitting on the boat drinking margaritas and listening to Steve’s old country songs. I get mad later as he leaves to go fishing, I suddenly feel like a carton of milk being put in and out of the fridge and Steve is just dumping me back in the house and leaving to do fun things whenever he wants.

How stupid is this all! But, the feelings are real. I’m feeling so lonely, even though I’m surrounded by people who love me. We must need to do this as a part of dying. I’m starting to feel this weird separation, and sometimes while I’m sitting with others, I suddenly see the room without me in it. I have to, or I am, starting to let go. I’m starting to feel the separation of spirit and body. It’s hard to explain. But I can feel my cells have stopped growing normally and are slowing way down. My body is starting to choose to stop rejuvenating each day. Crazy to say I know, but it’s what I think about and what I’m feeling. My hair isn’t growing as fast and my nails have slowed way down. And don’t you dare tell me to keep fighting, or to try harder. I have tried my best, but this was always going to end one way, with me dying. The reality is this disease is terminal, not chronic and definitely not one of the “better” cancers to have. Especially with 114 people dying from it each and every day. This is one of the reasons funding research is so important. Thinking about research dollars just adds to my bad day. With only 2-7% of all breast cancer dollars going to metastatic breast cancer research. Calling metastatic breast cancer one of the easier cancers is just a side effect from the in your face pink washing days. Trust me, no cancer is an “easy” cancer to have. They all stink big time.

Admitting the time is getting close takes a little bit of bravery. Being brave doesn’t mean you aren’t scared to death, ( no pun intended) I’m just a person trying to figure this out as best as I can.

Tomorrow will be different. I’ll wake up hurting, but my attitude will be a little better. I am sleeping well and starting again in the morning is always a plus. I also have the help of some antidepressants. Another area we don’t talk about enough. We live in an unbelievably difficult world, most of us are going to need some help at some point. And if you don’t believe that is true, then you really do need the drugs.

I dig out my old friend, Gratitude, because I can be thankful for being a crabby jerk. Thankful, because I know feeling like a crabby jerk is real and those hard emotions have to be felt and endured. Grief is becoming more of a daily occurrence. The loses that I’m feeling are becoming bigger and harder. I’ve learned I have to let myself feel these crap emotions. I used to freeze and go into deep depressions during parts of my difficult childhood. The trauma was so real back then, the only way to survive was to not feel. But, I’ve learned through lots of practice and therapy, that you must lean back and float into all of these hard emotions. Let them pass through you, but, feel them all, you must. Otherwise, you risk becoming a hard shell of no emotion.

The other thing about dumping my feelings is that it’s harder when you’re dying. You are already hurting so many people by dying ( and geez! does it have to be taking so long!) that you don’t want them automatically racing to fix it all. I already feel so grateful and yes, overburdened, with the help I know I can never repay. I remind myself a hard earned lesson, how would you feel and behave if it was someone you loved and not yourself? Yea, right, check feelings of guilt. It usually takes me a few tries. But honestly, trying to find, yes, struggling to find, my reason to be grateful does the trick on everything else those handy drugs failed to manage.

I’ve started saying this meditation every night before I go to sleep, it’s from Where Healing Begins by Mishkan R’Fauh.

Meditation on Healing

When I panic, God, teach me patience, when I fear, teach me faith. When I doubt myself, teach me confidence. When I despair, teach me hope. When I lose perspective, show me the way- back to love, back to life, back to You.

I’ll meditate with this and say it many times tonight with the hope that tomorrow will be a better day. Today was just one of those bad days. Even writing this blog has helped me to start feeling more hopeful. Thank you for letting me vent. I’m so sorry it hurts you and makes you cry. As my friend Kelly Grosklags says “we experience grief because we feel love. And I do love you. That’s why leaving is going to be so hard. It’s grieving the loss of those I love and missing out on the wonderful future that’s to come. Damn I would have been an incredible grandma, and damn I miss my old self.

Changes

The last two months in Cancerland have been challenging. The week before Thanksgiving my pain levels increased dramatically. It is still hard for me to process how quickly I experienced such a dramatic change in my quality of life. My back started to hurt a lot. I experienced spasms every time I tried to stand or get up out of a chair. I couldn’t sit very comfortably either. I was able to get somewhat comfortable if I was in bed with my back elevated and had pillows under my knees. There was no real injury. I think that the levels of cancer in my bones and spine grew to such an amount that nerves started to become involved and I started to hurt more.

Currently, my whole torso is painful and I’m still in pretty much the same place pain wise. Both sides of my rib cage are extremely tender and it hurts to take a deep breath. My back is hurting everywhere and I have issues with trying to stand. If I stand for more then 15 minutes it feels like my spine has disappeared and the muscles in my torso are straining to hold me up. Thankfully, I see the Nurse Practitioner who handles pain management and palliative care in our clinic tomorrow. I’m hopeful we can come up with a pain management plan that will work. I know I’m also going to have to get better at taking pain meds and being honest about how much pain I am in. We have such a problem with opioids and addiction right now in our society. I think that once again, we keep trying to treat it one way or the other when there are lots of gray issues in between. There’s a whole other blog post on the number of times I’ve almost been denied pain meds. It makes me laugh a little because part of my problem is I try so hard to not take too many. I’ve also been trying CBD in different forms. I’m hoping to find a way to have that be helpful also.

I had scans the end of November which showed innumerable mets in my spine, pelvis and hip area. The cancer has grown quite a bit more from my scans just a month before.

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A little Er visit this month

I did see the High Wizard and he consulted with my Wizard. They both reviewed the results of my Foundtion One testing. I don’t have any mutations that are unusual. The course of treatments we’ve been doing have been the best treatments to use with my cancer. It’s a little disappointing to not have found a magic bullet to use, but I didn’t expect to find one either. We decided to circle back and try the CDK4/6 drugs again. CDK 4 and 6 are proteins which help to control how fast cells grow and divide. They work for both healthy cells and cancer cells. In metastatic breast cancer they aren’t working right which is what is causing the cancer cells to grow, divide and spread. CDK4/6 drugs inhibit the growth of these proteins and try to slow down the spread of the cancer cells. I’ve been on this type of drug twice before (Ibrance). You see many commercials about these drugs on TV. The women are always smiling and going about living with mbc like it’s no big deal. I really hate these commercials. They are so misleading.

This time instead of Ibrance I’m trying Verzenio. It’s a cdk4/6 inhibitor, just made by a different drug manufacturer from Ibrance. The High Wizard has had some success with people reacting favorably with one of these drugs when another one didn’t work. I’m also getting the aromatase inhibitor shots again, or Faslodex. You’ll remember the big, honking needles. So fun. Interesting fact, Verzenio is a mere $11,372.00 a month. Combine that with the shots which are about $4500 a pop and I’m an expensive cancer patient. Don’t get me started on insurance. I believe it is a basic human right. I know women who have to choose every month to keep a roof over their head for their children or take their meds.

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These babies hurt

Last month my tumor markers had increased to an all time high. If the med switch doesn’t work we will probably swing back to adriamycin. My heart has recovered from the damage that occurred previously while on it and my cardiologist feels very comfortable with me taking more then the recommended life time amounts. Once again we’ll be balancing heart damage with beating back crazy, fast growing cancer cells.

On the good news side of things, whatever spot was in my liver before doesn’t appear to be actively growing right now. It’s just the cancer in my bones which seems to be growing crazy fast.

I’m due to get tumor markers tomorrow to see if this course of treatment has helped at all. I don’t want to be discouraging, but based on my pain levels I’m going to guess it’s not working. I’ll let you know.

It’s been a discouragingly hard and wonderful last few weeks. Hard because the side effects and pain haven’t been fun. I’m throwing up more then I ever have since having cancer. The most common side effect with Verzenio is diarrhea. Yep, they don’t show Alice smiling through that one in the commercials. Couple that with constipation from increasing pain med dosages and my poor colon is wishing for a break. Also, at times the pain has been almost unbearable and I’ve had to fight back the fear that I won’t be able to do this. I’ll get help with that tomorrow. I have faith in my med team and know that they’ll do whatever they can to help manage my pain. I just have’t had a chance to get in there and talk through a plan yet.

I wasn’t able to cook any of our holiday meals. But it was absolutely wonderful to have my families help in doing it all. They did a great job of suffering through me barking commands and they did ALL of the dishes! I did still manage to “flame the sauce” for our Christmas Beef Wellington. It made me happy to know it all was fantastic and they did a great job. It means traditions can carry on without me.

 

I’m not able to drive anymore. I’m on way too many pain meds, and I’m in so much pain that it’s pretty difficult. Once in awhile I’ll hold off on pain meds to drive one mile up to the corner, but I can’t and don’t do that very often. It’s really difficult to loose that freedom.

It was heartwarming to have all of the kids and other family home for Christmas. But, it also was heartbreaking knowing how much heartache I was causing the people who love me when they saw how much pain I was in and how difficult it’s getting for me to move. I wish I could hide that one better and protect them more.

I say the last weeks have been wonderful, because once again I’m overwhelmed with gratitude at the amazing and loving friends and family I have in my life. People have been driving me to PT appointments, they take me to run errands, they’ve been bringing us meals and put up Christmas decorations for me. They take me to the doctor and lab appointments. It’s been wonderful. But it’s hard too. I just keep reminding myself that I would be doing the same for them if things were reversed. Being able to accept help is a lesson all of us need to learn. It makes us vulnerable, but also teaches us to trust the people who care about us. It teaches us humility and gratitude. Both qualities that I’ve found are important.

This is going to be a challenging year. It may well be my last. In fact I’ll be totally surprised if it isn’t. We don’t talk about death enough. It’s funny how afraid we can be of something that is going to happen to every single one of us. I’m going to talk about it. I’ve already started talking about it with the people who love me. I don’t want to be unprepared and I don’t want the people I care about to have to be worrying about what I want or don’t want because I didn’t talk to them about it. Just because I’m going to talk about dying doesn’t mean that I’m not going to do everything I can to not die. I want to find that balance. The realistic optimist in me needs to plan and acknowledge whats likely to happen. But, the optimist in me will keep hoping that the treatments will work and I’ll have some more time to spend with those I love.

Do me a favor this week and go move your body and enjoy being able to to it. Take a long walk and be proud of your body for moving and getting you around every day. Relish the fact that you can get out of bed pretty easily and make it to the bathroom when you need too. Enjoy a glass of wine for me and a night out with people you love. (I’m so sad that wine is just not tasting good.) Have a donut in moderation and then eat healthy too. Be happy this week and be kind. Buy someone’s coffee in line behind you or help a stranger. Give something useful to a homeless person. Grab some socks at the dollar store or some good protein bars and keep them in your car to hand out. If you feel like donating then donate to a cause that means something to you. Make a positive difference in the world this week!