Cancer Ever After

Musings on Infertility, Adoption, Parenthood and Cancer

Still Here

on 08/22/2016

I’m not dead.  Just thought I’d throw that out there since it’s been so long since I’ve posted.  I had good intentions when I revived the blog upon receiving my diagnosis.  What I didn’t account for was the level of fatigue and ridiculous amount of energy it takes just to get out of bed, work and take after my kids when my body is at it’s lowest.

To catch you up on my story, I finished chemo after a bit of a scare, I had a sinus infection that went out of control due to my neutropenic (barely any white blood cells to fight infection) state.  I went from not feeling well to barely speaking and burning up with fever within a day and ended up in the hospital for several days. That experience scared me quite a bit, because it was the first time I truly feared for my life since beginning treatment.

Once we got that little scare out of the way, it took me a while to ramp back up and finish my treatment. The final chemos seemed anticlimactic after that.

Then there was a glorious break, a three week break between chemo and radiation when I began to feel human.  I was finally able to take the kids a few places by myself.  My family and in-laws have been taking them to do fun things most weekends for us and daycare handles them during the week for most of the day.

It seemed like everything had taken a turn and I was in the home stretch.  I went for my radiation consult, got fitted for my mask and was scheduled to start treatment.  That’s when the wheels fell off. I received a phone call the day I was to begin radiation treatment- “We need to talk, there are complications with your treatment plan, and you have some choices to make.”

When I called him back, I found out that given the placement of my tumor, he couldn’t proceed with radiation. There wasn’t a way he could configure the treatment that was within acceptable levels of radiation to my heart and lungs. Queue freakout.

 

 

 

Advertisements

One response to “Still Here

  1. Dee says:

    I’m so sorry. That’s so stressful. They’re not lying when they call this cancer gig a roller coaster. Sending you my very best wishes.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: