JQ's Journey/Journal
In this blog, I want to share how I'm healing from bladder cancer and other inflammatory illnesses. It's a journey that's mental, emotional, and spiritual, as well as, physical. As I walk through it, perhaps, someone else will find the inspiration and strength to do the same.
My 2011 in Review
When last I wrote it was to report that I was close to having my two year cystoscopy to check my bladder. I still haven't had it. I've gotten sidetracked by some things: depression, anxiety, and loss of medical insurance. Some might ask, how does a person of faith become anxious and depressed? Her body weakens under the weight of one setback after another, without time to rest and recuperate. I am reminded that even Jesus sweat heavily in the Garden of Gethsemane at the thought of what was to come. He prayed,"Let this cup pass from me." It doesn't matter what you believe. Pain hurts. And often, it is Divine Plan that you go through it, not around it. But it still hurts.
At any rate, I've been saddened by some of the losses I suffered in 2011. My home was burglarized exactly a year ago. Several items which were taken are not easily replaced and have yet to be. The vehicle I drove to work and to medical appointments died last February. Having to take the bus or beg for a ride where I need to go makes simple errands take much longer. It makes life much more exhausting with FMD, secondary hypertension, and a cancerous bladder. I do what I have to do, but I'm triple tired when it's done. I moved my entire life, gave up my job to relocate to Florida, only to find out by the time I reached Georgia that promises made to me were false. So I returned to try to reclaim some of what I've lost. Unfortunately, things will never be the same again. I'm on the verge of a new chapter, whether I like it or not. The good news is, I've survived some of the darkest nights a soul can know so far. I still believe there is light ahead.
The point I want to make is that hope only exists where there is adversity. Where I've found myself after thinking I couldn't get knocked any further down, it takes hope to keep living strong. That is especially so as I try to maintain the mission I began when I learned I'd been given the gift of an early diagnosis with a very high survival prognosis. I am blessed to know what matters; that's why I won't allow depression to win. I will fight it. What makes fighting harder, it seems, is that once the word "cancer" is spoken, whether by doctor or patient, it begins the work of shutting down opportunities and closing doors. Patients, in general, begin a rapid decline at the sound of the word. Insurance companies slam their doors on the cancerous. As doctors attaching the word to patients, people and organizations detach themselves from them. Everyone seems to say, "Come back and see us (if you're still alive) in 5 years." I'm saying all of this to say, let's fight for our own lives and not simply surrender to "the pestilence that waits in darkness."
How many times have you heard others say,"Well, no one lives forever," as an excuse to cop out of taking responsibility for themselves. Maybe that's you. Let's not believe everything and accept it. Who truly wants to watch the life, feel it, be gnawed out of them by cancer or any other disease? We each surely have to die one day, but we don't have to choose it. Let's be pro-life for ourselves first, otherwise, what are we saving others for? (That sacrifice was made once for all.)
Peace, JQ
Thanksgiving Update
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I have yet to have my 2-year cystoscopy to see if I've remained free of bladder cancer. I continue to take atenolol, amlodipine, and hydrochlorothiazide for hypertension. The good news is that the generic form of Plavix has made the list of medications which will be available in the United States within the next year, I hope. In the meantime, I will have to either do without or order it from Canada.
You may recall from one of my earlier posts that Plavix costs a whopping $176 for a 30-day supply here in the U.S., with no available generic, as I stated before. Canada makes the generic form, clopidigrel, available to American consumers for about $25 per 90-day supply. It is all legal, requiring a verified doctor's prescription. But it's a 3-month process since such orders must first pass through customs inspection. My cysto exam is on hold because I've lost my insurance.
To add to the very trying year 2011 has been, I discovered a strange lump on my left arm two days ago. (I know what you're thinking: What's next with this chick? I feel you.) When I first noticed it, it was soft like a blister, and about the size of a quarter. By this morning, it had become firmer, in time for my doctor's appointment. The preliminary diagnosis is that it is a ganglion cyst, which usually appears on the wrist, rather than the inner elbow where mine is located. Cysts are caused by inflammation, I'm told. Most of them shrink on their own. But, since this one has grown into the tissue of a tendon, is near the main artery in the crease of my arm, and is of considerable size, removal has been recommended. I am being referred to a specialist for closer analysis and possible surgery.
Wow! Other good news, though, is that while in the doctor's office, I got the flu shot I was needing. As I recall, when I had the (H1N1) flu in 2009, it was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. I recommend that everyone my age and older, especially those with medical issues, get the shot. You don't need the added burden, or the loss of time it takes to recuperate from some nasty virus. Be wise. Take care.
I'll let you know what happens with my procedure.
Happy Thanksgiving! --JQ
The Rhythm of Life
2011 has been quite a year for me. It's been a year of many disappointments: being burglarized at the turn of the new year; filing bankruptcy for an out-of-control pile of medical bills; moving to relocate, but returning after being let down by someone I trusted; an ongoing legal battle with a well-known federal agency; conducting a new job search, and living in someone else's home. I didn't know the depths of my repressed internal stress until recently, when I began literally having digestive issues. I am not dealing well with being dependent on others, which manifests as shutting myself up in a room, trying to stay out of the way. I've told myself that I don't have time to cry, to be angry, or to express disappointment about things that haven't gone right, one after another. I have too many things to do, to correct, to complete. I will lose time if I stop to "feel" the setbacks. But as I'm losing control of my physical health in ways that are embarrassing me, I've been asking,"Do I have to keep pushing myself?"
Thankfully, my constant, my faith remains; otherwise, I might have thrown in the towel years ago. My faith keeps telling me that despite the barrage of unfortunate experiences that have accosted me, I am a child of Divine Love, and that Love, along with Infinite Wisdom will guide me through and out of this haze. It will continue to heal, as I continue to acknowledge that everything I need is all around me. I must focus my thoughts on the goodness of life.
Back in May, a neighbor came to me and said,"You will only hear from God by going inside." I wondered what she meant by going inside. That was certainly not the Christian technique for meditation, going inside. I was afraid of going inside, afraid of what I might find. I had some inklings about what might be in there, given that I was me. But she sat down and demonstrated how she simply sits in the silence and waits. And I thought, I can do that; I've been doing that for a couple of years. I just haven't been hearing. The fearful thoughts racing through my mind have drowned out the voice that is speaking on my inside. That voice belongs to the very life in me.
Fast forward to today, and I am sitting in this quiet room alone, the TV off, the laptop shutdown, meditating on the name that is Life to me, trying purposely to make the inhalation longer and deeper, acknowledging that I am inhaling the I AM presence. If it is true that I'm inhaling life through the I AM, then I must be exhaling it, too. And I suddenly get it: Breathing is the rhythm of life. Therefore, I conclude: The Rhythm of Life is to inhale and be inspired by I AM; to exhale and inspire I AM in everyone and everything around us. I am inspired to inspire, empowered to empower. That keeps me going.
Enjoy life, JQ
Two-Year Update
JQ
Day After Episode
The worst part of having these episodes, which are called, transient ischemic attacks, is the aftermath. I usually spend the next few days feeling weak, and having head and body aches. I imagine my internal organs need time to recuperate from the shock of being thrown into crisis mode. During this time, I most appreciate the simple expressions of love and care from family and friends, not the advice. Advice about de-stressing and making diet modifications is unappreciated, and sometimes infuriating.
Lori Ulrich, a cofounder of the Midwest Women's Vascular Association (MWVA), and Facebook friend, also has FMD. In an article interview, she said, "When I was diagnosed, my doctor said 'Oh you look too healthy to have anything wrong...There's been a huge struggle with patients with FMD because friends and family don't understand. It's such a misconception that you're healthy when you feel like a walking time bomb." http://www.mwva.org And I empathize with this assessment, because I feel as though some of my family and coworkers wish I would stop doing whatever I'm doing to cause these attacks. It never fails for someone to ask, "So what are you stressed out about?" And then comes the advice.
Those who know me well know that I am one of the few persons in this world who shops only for whole foods. I use no more than a teaspoon of sea salt when cooking, and avoid products with high sodium content. I take my blood pressure medications everyday, as tedious as it is to have to split one of the pills. I make the effort to incorporate moderate exercise into my life, and yet, the attacks happen. The ER physician had the audacity to advise me to ignore the high BP readings and simply take my medication, because I am probably causing my pressure to rise by fixating on the problem. That kind of advice is given without a clear understanding of how FMD defies the conventions of normal maintenance. Many doctors know nothing about it or how to treat it. But here is another quote from the MWVA website:
FMD is a non-inflammatory vascular disease that affects artery wall development. There is no plaque buildup with FMD — the problem exists in the artery itself. Instead of a long and straight artery, women affected by FMD have arteries that look more like a string of beads with webbing inside that blocks blood flow and is susceptible to tearing.
At any rate, it appears that I won’t be adding Plavix to my regime, at $176 for a 30-day supply. Wow! I mean, that ER doctor must have been sleepwalking to even consider writing such a prescription. Maybe he confused me with some rich black woman in another room. I think 81mg. Bayer aspirin will do just fine. In the meantime, I must lie down again, as I am still weak and achy.
If anyone is interested in gaining a better understanding of FMD, you might want to check out the patient stories on the FMDSA (Fibromuscular Dysplasia Society of America) website. They are very similar to my own.
http://fmdsa.org/patientstories.html You can also begin following my healing journal at Livestrong.com: http://www.livestrong.com/community/profile.html?plckpersonapage=personablog&plckuserid=odhkmje1nzlkzmm2mjfizme2n2m1ndi5mzc3mwvknjdlntu0nzc2oa&uid=odhkmje1nzlkzmm2mjfizme2n2m1ndi5mzc3mwvknjdlntu0nzc2oa&sid=
Peace and blessings!
Episode 2010
I hadn't taken my daily walk around the park next to my school/workplace in a couple of days. I was resting my left leg. Today I walked. My left arm started hurting toward the end of the first lap, but I took a second one anyway. After my walk, I checked my blood pressure again and decided to call my family doctor to report my symptoms. I tried three times on three different phones and was placed on hold, until I reached a triage nurse at Tacoma General Hospital. I described my symptoms and she urged me to get to the ER as soon as possible. So I did. My BP was up to 158/100 by that time. Didn't I just write in my last post that I hadn't had such an episode in over a year? What shock and surprise!
At the ER today, it took three tries to get the IV properly into the bony little vein in my bony little arm. And I was a fuss budget the whole time. I forbad them to stick me in the hand, but a nurse did it anyway because a sample hadn't been taken through the IV. My BP creeped to 169/102. An EKG was done. My finger was pricked to test for diabetes. And finally, an MRI was done, for the first time, to look at my brain after an episode. I assumed that everything else was okay when the doctor gave me the results of the MRI. What I had today is known as a transient ischemic attack, in which a blockage occurred in my blood flow, and then cleared itself. The doctor also told me that sometime in my past, he doesn't know when, I have had a "tiny" stroke. (Silence...yes) Well, there is a small scar where the blood vessel has healed. My BP got up to 172/105 in the ER, after 300 mg. of Plavix. Even now, it is riding at 152/92. I am adding Plavix and the old medication, hydrochlorothiazide, to my daily regime. And, I'm taking tomorrow off to rest and think about all of this, and to meditate on how next to battle this enemy known as inflammation.
Update 2010
So what is inflammation, anyway? I’m not a physician, just a human guinea pig for life’s little experiments with inflammation. Don’t quote me, but I believe it’s the immune system’s response to what it perceives to be trauma or crisis. For instance, when I cut my finger, my immune system dispatches cells to the cut to begin repairing the break in the skin. In the same way, the brain might interpret stress and fatigue as such a form of emergency that it signals the body that something is wrong. But without a localized injury like a cut to target, it might simply find the most vulnerable place in the body to increase production of repair cells. In other words, yes, the body can start repairing something that is not visibly broken, and the manifested result might be some form of infection. Inflammation covers a broad range of illness: arthritis, heart disease, cancer, hypertension, and upper respiratory infection, for example. I am most concerned with inflammation not caused by a visible break in the skin. It may be due to poor diet, poor mental health, poor environment, poor spirit, or a combination of these things.
Last year, I started writing about my bladder cancer treatment because that seemed to be the most serious of my afflictions at the time. Although I mentioned the others: renal hypertension and fibromuscular dyslasia, were put on the back burner until I knew the cancerous cells in my bladder were dead. I discovered my hypertension over fourteen years ago, when I started having headaches that would last from Friday evening to Monday afternoon. There were times when I’d walk out of a vocal jury (I was studying vocal performance at the time) and gradually get a migraine. For several years, I went without medicine to treat them, but I began to suspect that hypertension was the cause. While my BP readings were high, my doctor suggested that I reduce my stress level, rather than go on medicine. After a year of appealing to him, to no avail, I changed doctors. My new doctor immediately put me on the blood pressure medicine called atenolol (Tenormin).
Sometime in 2005, I was hospitalized a couple of times for BP spikes of 220/110. During these stays, all kinds of blood screens and heart stress tests were done, and everyone remained puzzled about what was causing it. The culprit was finally found after a young intern heard a bruit (sound) near my right kidney during an exam for a new prescription. She sent me to see a vascular specialist who ordered an ultrasound and an angiogram of all my major arteries. With my angio pictures illuminated on the computer screen, he explained to me that I have FMD, which had caused an “aneurysm” near my right renal (kidney) artery. (My carotids and stomach are also affected.) At first, he suggested stenting the renal artery, to open it up, but wanted me to see a kidney specialist before making a final decision. After conferring with the KS, and reviewing all the pictures, we agreed that since I have two right renal arteries, stenting may not be imperative. Instead, the kidney specialist added a second BP medicine, amlodipine (Norvasc).
A few months ago, I connected with the Fibromuscular Dysplasia Association of America, to learn more about the disease. I learned that people as young as eight have died of not knowing they had it, through sudden strokes and aneurysms. I learned that they all had the characteristic blood pressure spikes of 220/110. I learned that it is treatable but not preventable. And as with the bladder cancer, I began to feel as though I wasn’t alone; not in my suffering, but in dealing with things that keep coming--that I don’t control. In July, I was prescribed a third medicine, the diuretic, hydrochlorothiazide, which I discontinued because of its strong side effects. Today, I seem to be doing well. I haven’t spiked in over a year. I’ve reached a point where every little abnormality (like the cyst that I recently discovered behind my right knee) is cause for concern. I’m not afraid of them, I just want to know. If I know the enemy, I know how to fight for the quality of my life. So, I am praying for good things.
Almost A Year Ago...
It’s been nearly a year since I took a friend’s suggestion and began visiting the University of Washington Urology/Urologynecology Center, and discovered that I’d developed four more low-grade malignant bladder tumors since the first two were found and removed in 2005 and 2007. As far as I know, I am still tumor free after undergoing a third transurethral resection of bladder tumor (TURBT) last October. I’ve said all along that I knew everything would be fine (which will be confirmed by a one-year follow-up cysto exam on September 15), and I’m grateful that it didn’t turn into the kind of metastatic cancer that has taken the lives of so many, including a relative of mine. But it’s not over for me. My life has been forever changed by my consciousness. From this point on, I’m on a mission to live better, to eat better, to serve better, while in a perpetual state of healing. And with that, there are still the questions: Why did I get it? How can I help others to prevent it…or get through it?
During my experience I’ve become aware of some things that concern me about the Bio-Tech food industry and how it affects our collective health. I have become responsible. I can’t just do nothing. I am not satisfied with saying, “What will be will be.” Although I’m going to be okay, I can’t just walk away as if I couldn’t care less about the many cancer cases that will have been diagnosed by the year’s end. I can’t pretend that although I believe there is a direct correlation between this disease and the food we eat, I am one small speck that won’t make much difference in the grand scheme. I must do what I can. So with that in mind, I’m going to walk toward the goal and see where it leads.
Peace!
What Happened?!!
Don't you just hate it when the doctor gives you that bad news? I don't mean when he/she says you need a life-saving surgery or you've got six months to live. I mean when you go to them complaining of some constant, nagging pain you know good and well you have, and they say,"Sorry, you're just getting old." If that’s not bad news enough:
I'm sitting here now wondering what just happened to me yesterday. I went to my doctor with a complaint and came out with another blood pressure medication. How?! I thought we had it under control. It seems that each time I've visited Multicare in the past year, my BP has been somewhere in the 140/80 range. I didn't know that. No one told me. My primary care physician (PCP) recently returned from a maternity leave and broke the bad news to me. She and the kidney specialist have been trying to convince me to take on a third med just because most people with hypertension are taking at least three, but I refused...until yesterday.
You see, I’m taking my medicine, but I don’t want to become dependent on more pills to treat my stress. The problem with that is what I’m doing is not adequately treating what needs treating: fibromuscular dysplasia. And one more time, FMD is a condition in which the arteries to the brain (carotids), heart, stomach, and kidneys become blocked by cell tissue that grows on their walls. This causes the arteries to weaken, which then causes tearing, aneurysms, clots, and subsequently stroke. For me, it has affected carotids, the stomach, and the artery to my right kidney. These organs produce an excess amount of a hormone that alerts my brain to pump the heart harder.
My vascular specialist was more concerned with treating the kidney rather than the other organs. Because I have two arteries to my right kidney, he decided almost two years ago not to stent the blocked one. I agreed with him to try to control my blood pressure with medication. As the years go by and it has spiked dangerously once a year since 2006, I’m beginning to think medicine is not working. Yesterday it registered in the borderline high range again. I noticed that after my walk in the park today, I'm taking much longer to cool down from something that wasn't all that strenuous in the first place. It could be a "flash." Who knows? That's been going on for a couple of days now. I have some mild sinus pressure, a little neck stiffness, and tingly sensations, which sometimes signal a sudden spike before it hits 200/100.
Minutes before the doctor came into the examining room, I stumbled upon a magazine article titled, "A Moving Target"; it was about a woman who discovered she had FMD when she had a stroke following a 20-mile training run for a marathon. The article went on to discuss the importance of treating hypertension brought on by FMD. I don’t want a new drug, but I finally gave in and added hydrochlorothiazide to my list of pills to pop.
I pray that anyone who knows you have hypertension or perhaps you don’t know for sure, but are displaying symptoms like frequent severe headache and swishing in your head, take care of it. I felt perfectly fine when I went into the doctor’s office, now that I think about it. In fact, I felt guilty about taking up her time. But isn’t it a good thing I did. I now know that the silent killer was creeping around.
It Takes A Regime
In the introduction to my blog sites at Blogs4Me and Windows Live, I say that I am going to share the journey of healing from various inflammatory issues. I’ve mentioned bladder cancer (BC) and fibromuscular dysplasia (FMD). And then, there’s hypertension, of course, caused by the FMD, in my case, but a separate issue in itself.
I do my exercising in the early evening, when the weather starts to cool a bit, and it’s not too close to bedtime. Exercising when it’s hot would aggravate my fiery metabolism and blood pressure in so many ways. I would do it in the early morning if I wasn’t such a night owl in the summer, and got to sleep before midnight.
My after-exercise BP readings have been in the 113/60 to 128/77 range, which is a healthy low for me. With no medication and a high stress level, my normal average was around 140/80, which is borderline hypertension. The slightest change or challenge in my circumstances would gradually spike it to a deadly 200/100. That has happened five times in five years; I was hospitalized the first three times. In the hospital, I was subjected to various types of cardiac and stress testing because doctors couldn’t find the cause. It’s only by the grace of God that I haven’t already had a stroke.
I’d like to urge anyone who is reading this and has issues with hypertension to please pay attention. If you’re the way I used to be. I only took the medicine on the days that I remembered. Then one day I realized that because of my genetic history, I was just as vulnerable as my predecessors, God bless them. Don’t think you can control it through prayer and de-stressing alone. It’s called the “silent killer” for good reason. Your life and wellness are too delicate and precious to think that tragedy could never strike while you’re still fairly young. (I most certainly am!)
Take care of yourself. It is a sign of good stewardship. And “life is good” will mean so much more.
Summer Update
I'm getting my exercise on these days, as much as I can afford it, making an effort to get out of the house most days. Of course, Ive been staying up on my meds and supplements, eating my fruits and veggies, and juicing. Fresh carrot juice is the real deal. Did you know that you can buy 10 and 20 lb. bags of carrots at the market? That's how I stay stocked.
I have to be careful about raising my BP, so my exercises are walks in the park, bike rides, and stretching, which do raise my heart rate, but are not too strenous for me. Most days, I feel well, but there are those days, the cool, overcast ones, that bring me down. I wish I could say otherwise, but I'm just keeping it real. And there are other days, like today, when I'm just tired for no reason. That's when I will pack a bag and go to my favorite spot, the B&N Cafe, to try writing. I usually go dressed for a walk, in case of writer's block. (I have a serious case of it right now.) On the good news front, the pain in my left leg has disappeared since I've been exercising. Thank God for that!
Sadly, the urge to sing is not quite as strong as it should be when I'm "tired." My only musical interaction is with whatever CD is playing in the car, until I'm REALLY sick of it. At the moment, it's Walter Hawkins' Love Alive that's lifting me up...And there's so much to do, I'm going to get 'er done!
Live healthy everyone!
--JQ
Three Month Follow-up
Spring Cleansing
Now I'm faced with the task of correcting my acts of desperation. To begin my cleanse, I'll be using my brand new juice fountain to mix together healthy elixirs, which I expect to flush out the toxins that have built up. I've consumed a lot of chicken during this time. Believe it or not, chicken is among the most difficult of animal proteins to digest. And let's not forget that it is processed in unhealthy ways here in the U.S.
In the last post, I described the condition known as fibromuscular dysplasia. What I did not say is that there is often abdominal pain after eating, due to the narrowing of blood vessels supplying blood to the stomach. Since being diagnosed with this condition, I've had several attacks of severe abdominal pain and pelvic spasms. In the past, I went to the emergency room where I was fed pain killers and presented with an enormous bill for medical services. Now I simply pace the floor, roll around on the floor, and curl up into a fetal position groaning "Oh, my Lord!" until it passes. That's what happened two weekends ago. From then on, I became more and more tired, and blocked.
The cleansing process will consist of raw juices and steamed fruits and vegetables, no animals. I look forward to the spiritual and physical renewal. Tonight I am really feeling like sauteed zucchini and yellow squash with lots of onion and garlic. We'll see. My followup cysto appointment to check my bladder status is on June 1.
And What Now?
I am relieved that after eight months of nursing a malignant bladder, I can now shift my focus to other medical issues that need my attention. I was reminded of my own complacency by an interview that Oprah did with that young Black doctor (whose name I can’t remember) who is gaining media popularity. It seems he visited several Black churches across the country to spread the word about two of the most silent killers of African-Americans: hypertension and diabetes. He found that the majority of those who admitted to having one or both of these conditions also confessed to neglecting them through unhealthy diet and lifestyle. He told them they were, in fact, shortening their own lives.
In the late 1990s I became aware of my hypertension, and was prescribed medication. I naively thought I could control it through stress-relief, and was inconsistent in taking the medicine. It wasn’t until my father suffered a stroke in 1997, which slightly paralyzed his left leg, that I realized the seriousness of the matter. He had been placed on medication while in his forties, but over the years, had stopped taking it. I became convinced that God’s intent for my prosperous health was not that I wait for the moment of crisis, when I need emergency intervention or surgery; but rather that I take ownership of my health now, and exercise my God-given power to be well.
Two years ago a newbie doctor heard a bruit (pronounced broo-ee, means murmur) near my right kidney and sent me to see a vascular specialist. In a matter of weeks, I learned that the sudden, sporadic and unexplained spikes in my blood pressure, that often required hospitalization, were due to renovascular hypertension or renal hypertension, caused by narrowing of the arteries supplying the kidneys (renal artery stenosis). An artery stenosis is often associated with atherosclerosis, caused by plaque in the arteries. In my case, the stenosis is fibromuscular dysplasia, a condition in which one of the arteries has an abnormal cluster of cells growing in the artery wall. The cluster causes the artery to narrow, which can damage organs that receive blood through that artery. FMD, as it is also known, can cause a number of complications, such as high blood pressure, aneurysms, and chronic kidney failure, if left untreated. Angiograms and ultrasounds also revealed blockages in the arteries to my stomach, and in my carotids. That definitely explained the abdominal pain after eating, and might possibly explain the furious headaches I frequently get.
At first the specialist suggested angioplasty: inserting a balloon into the renal artery to hold it open. But since I am strange and fortunate enough to have two arteries to my right kidney, he believes the hypertension can be adequately controlled with medication. Therefore, I am taking atenolol (Tenormin), amlodopine (Norvasc), and 81 mg. aspirin to keep my blood pressure down and to prevent stroke. So far, I’ve had one episode (as I call it) in the last eight months, where my BP suddenly spiked to over 200/100, and I was driven to the ER. I see a nephrologist from time to time to check on my kidney.
With all that’s going on in inside me, I have to stay proactive and in control of my own care and treatment. No time to whine. There’s a lot to do. And the Muse is calling me.
And the Winner is...
NO NEW TUMORS!
I am writing in my notebook as I sit here in the Plaza Cafe at the UW Medical Pavilion, where I've enjoyed many a pleasant, and reasonably-priced meal. I'm watching people who should be eating healthier scarf down large quantities of bacon and sausage, as I nibble on scrambled egg (only one) and a scoop of hash browns with a slice of cinnamon raisin toast and a cup of very hot green tea. (Yes, I eat like a bird first thing in the morning, thank you.) My appointment is not for another thirty-four minutes. I'm really just reflecting on what a low-stress day I've had so far, taking the bus to downtown Seattle. The walk to the next stop at 4th & Pike was a bit windy and cold, but it only took me about ten minutes to find it. Once I arrived at the UW, the first order of business was to have breakfast. And here I am. I am tired, but that's because life has changed since I'm riding buses again. Oops! Time to check in.
To make a long story short, the exam went well, as usual, and I have no new tumors since the resection (tumor removal) in October. Is anyone surprised? Not me. I am happy. And thankful. Remember, I had a one-time treatment of the chemotherapy drug mitomycin, instilled directly into my bladder, a method which has successfully destroyed transitional cell carcinoma or cancer of the urinary tract. As in most bladder cancer cases, I will have a followup cysto exam every three months for a year, to check for recurrences. In the meantime, I am determined to keep a healthy bladder and to maintain a lifestyle that supports wholeness and wellness. Healing without change would be futile. I want to do more about my stress. It keeps coming. If your advice is Don't let things worry you, you miss the point. Things don't worry me, they weary me, enough to drive me close to breaking down two weekends ago; not because of bladder cancer, but because of other life cancers.
The stress still hovers. Hope keeps me from losing my wits. It says,"Lose yourself in your divine purpose, and the performing arts, and this too will pass."
