Being tired and weak I still wanted to go to my home. I was dismissed from Fair Oaks Hospital. Hospitals aren't places of rest. My first general practitioner after I got married said, "You must go home from a hospital after you've been treated to rest and recuperate." I've carried this knowledge for 46 years and it is just as valid today as it was when he said it!
Memorial Day came soon after I got out of the hospital. Cousins David Shaver & his wife Nancy came to visit while visiting in the DC area. I talked to them as well as other friends about needing to make a decision about chemotherapy.
In early June, 2010, I went to the oncologist for an office visit. There he laid out a plan of attack. I would have a chemo IV treatment each week for 3 weeks then an office visit with the oncologist. Prior to the IV treatment my blood would be tested to ascertain exact measurements of the chemicals to be administered to me right there in the doctor;s office. He wanted to give me the strongest treatment that he felt I could tolerate. The first of the three treatments would last about 3 hours while the others would each be about one hour. The office visit would entail blood work and repports of how things were going with my body.
Finally I consented to this regimented treatment plan and it began in mid June 2010. The first treatment wasn't too bad. I had taken anti-nausea pills and I felt no nausea. That day I felt OK and throughout the week, I continued not feeling sick. Chemotherapy wasn't so bad afterall. I had the second IV treatment. Again I took the anti-nausea medication and didn't feel sick immediately following the treatment. That evening I didn't feel good and I didn't want to eat. Pretzels were about the only food that set well in my stomach. Things continued about the same through the third treatment.
Following IV treatment #3 I needed medication to help my blood cells regenerate. I got a shot following the treatment and returned the next 2 days for a shot each day. This helped rebuild my blood but after a few more treatments my blood was so low I had to have transfusions. Having A negative blood, it is hard to find a supply. One time my blood was so low I required 9 units of blood. The technicians and nurses would administer the transfusion, test to see how the blood was building up, then determine if I needed more blood.
I was in the hospital 3 days for this lengthy procedure.
A person generally has 14 to 18 pints of blood. YES, I had half my blood replaced! God provided many blood banks for gathering the needed blood. The interruption in my life was growing.
I'd like to close with a quote from Breaking Free by Beth Moore:
"I'm freed to know that my God is huge. and my God is able. So I know if I don't get what I asked from Him, if I cooperate, I'll get something bigger. I'll know that a greater yes is in progress."
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Cancer diagnosis
I've been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Will I see this as an interruption in my interesting, busy Christian life? Is there a possibility this is a divine intervention? Will I get some inspiration to accomplish something for God before I die?
For years I have reconciled that I would not go through chemotherapy. Too many people suffer through months, even years, of chemotherapy only to die a miserable death. I determined long ago that it wasn't in my life's plan. No way would I put my family through the ordeal of watching me be unable to eat, in constant pain, then medication that puts you out of your misery but gives you a totally don't care attitude! Just who wants an interruption like that? Not this lady, for sure.
Into my hospital room came a medical team--an oncologist, an infectious disease doctor, a hospitalist, a patient advocate, a social worker, my husband Hampton, our son David, and our daughter Sarah. I had encouraged our daughter Jennifer not to travel until we knew more about what was happening. WOW, what were all these people going to tell me?
I had undergone a miriad of tests to determine what was the matter with me. I felt terrible and was exhausted from days of testing. "You have blood clots in your chest, liver lesions, and pancreatic cancer. The survival rate for pancreatic cancer is 2%.
Immediately I began explaining I had no plans for chemotherapy. I stated that I'd given this situation lots of prayer, thought, and discussion. I was not going to undergo chemotherapy. What don't you understand? The oncologist asked to speak to my family outside my room. He told them that he felt I had a good chance of surviving and that I should take the chance. 2% survival rate; good chance, right?
My family came back into my room and said they thought I should reconsider chemotherapy. Obviously they weren't in favor of my speedy demise. How could I be assured I'd quickly die they asked. What if I just began lying around sick. I agreed to pray and reconsider.
The next morning in came the oncologist. Had I rethought my decision? I replied I'd thought and prayed but had not made a decision. I agreed to continue pondering my situation.
For years I have reconciled that I would not go through chemotherapy. Too many people suffer through months, even years, of chemotherapy only to die a miserable death. I determined long ago that it wasn't in my life's plan. No way would I put my family through the ordeal of watching me be unable to eat, in constant pain, then medication that puts you out of your misery but gives you a totally don't care attitude! Just who wants an interruption like that? Not this lady, for sure.
Into my hospital room came a medical team--an oncologist, an infectious disease doctor, a hospitalist, a patient advocate, a social worker, my husband Hampton, our son David, and our daughter Sarah. I had encouraged our daughter Jennifer not to travel until we knew more about what was happening. WOW, what were all these people going to tell me?
I had undergone a miriad of tests to determine what was the matter with me. I felt terrible and was exhausted from days of testing. "You have blood clots in your chest, liver lesions, and pancreatic cancer. The survival rate for pancreatic cancer is 2%.
Immediately I began explaining I had no plans for chemotherapy. I stated that I'd given this situation lots of prayer, thought, and discussion. I was not going to undergo chemotherapy. What don't you understand? The oncologist asked to speak to my family outside my room. He told them that he felt I had a good chance of surviving and that I should take the chance. 2% survival rate; good chance, right?
My family came back into my room and said they thought I should reconsider chemotherapy. Obviously they weren't in favor of my speedy demise. How could I be assured I'd quickly die they asked. What if I just began lying around sick. I agreed to pray and reconsider.
The next morning in came the oncologist. Had I rethought my decision? I replied I'd thought and prayed but had not made a decision. I agreed to continue pondering my situation.
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