My True Colors (Post #47)

 

Time flies when you're having fun! Isn't that how the cliché goes? It certainly goes faster when you're not constantly holding down the couch. 😊 Yes, I am doing well, perhaps even better than I should be. I'm a walking, talking example of answered prayer! I haven't quite returned to "full strength Heather" yet, fatigue continues to be an issue, but I'm grateful for how far I've come. 

So, fatigue. 🥱 I've discussed this a bit in past blog posts, and both my oncologist and my radiation oncologist warned me about its tendency to linger, but, of course, I was hoping it would only be a dim memory at this point. Not so. I continue to be amazed at how disruptive it can be to my to-do list! It's actually a rather curious feeling, almost as if someone has replaced my bone marrow with lead. The usual things like caffeine, naps, or copious amounts of sugar, preferably in the form of chocolate, are not effective in the battle against fatigue; when it hits you, it takes you down. I usually "hit the wall" between 1:00 and 2:00, which is especially noticeable at work. So far, going shopping has been the most effective treatment. 😁 Another thing I've noticed is that I can push through when I'm running on adrenalin, but the higher the rush, the farther the fall. 

I wasn't trying to be provocative or cryptic with the title of this post; I had genetic testing done. I ordered a test online (after selling my spleen - yikes, it was expensive!) and when it arrived, I spit in the tube, sealed it up, and sent it back. I can only imagine a conversation at a dinner party: "What do you do for work?" "I work for Colors; I play with tubes of saliva all day." 🤢 Gross. My results came via email while eating breakfast during our vacation in Victoria. Of course, I immediately opened the file, while hubby suddenly looked rather queasy. The test I ordered looked for abnormalities that could cause cardiac conditions or cancer. Mine came back as negative for any abnormalities, meaning both my cancers were spontaneous and not caused by "bad genes." What. A. Relief. The thought that I could be giving my children something bad, in addition to my wonky sense of humor, was not a pleasant thought. 😖 Oh, and I have no cardiac genetic abnormalities either. Yay!

The obligatory Sunken Garden photo at the Butchart Gardens. 

Ken and I managed to get away to our Canadian happy place in April. Yup, Victoria, BC. We love the relaxed pace of life, and as we continue to age, the median age of its residents appears to be getting younger! 👵🏻👴🏻 We stayed at the same bed and breakfast that we had twice in the past; they serve the most decadent breakfasts. 😋 However, while we enjoyed our time there, we were also plagued with disquieting emotions that were difficult to dissect. I found myself feeling incredibly sad that I would probably never live in Victoria and was doomed to endure Edmonton winters for the rest of my days. And I just didn't want to go home! This attitude is rather unusual for this Mennonite Pollyanna. However, as our holiday wore on, it became apparent that we were actually vacationing in d'Nile (denial). You see, the last time we were in Victoria was in May of 2022, just prior to my cancer diagnosis. We had a wonderful vacation back then and were perhaps subconsciously attempting to recreate that carefree holiday. While we were in Victoria, I had no doctor's appointments, no infusions, no tests; it was as though I had never had cancer. Except that the side effects of my treatment hitched a ride. It feels silly even mentioning such paltry complaints in light of all I've put my body through, but if I ran as much as my nose and eyes do, I'd be in fantastic shape! And I no longer possess my pre-cancer bovine skin. Seriously; the cows were jealous. Now I play a neat game called "What rash will pop up today?" It's grand. And then, of course, there's the fatigue. 😣 However, hubby and I still had a lovely time and made a lot of memories. Funny how that has become more important now. 😊 

My skin is still suffering aftereffects of my treatment. 😑

I saw a plastic surgeon a couple weeks ago. No, I'm not "getting work done;" (now, now, no need to be rude...😄) Dr. Morhart is the best nerve surgeon in the city. (Insert joke about getting on my last nerve here. 😁) Just prior to my breast cancer diagnosis, I was scheduled for an ultrasound-guided cortisone injection in my elbow. I started feeling pain in my forearm about 10-15 years ago but dismissed it as a knitting injury, caused by knitting too vigorously. (Yes, this is a thing. For real!) Over the past couple of years, it's grown progressively more painful, interfering with my ability to play piano, drive a vehicle (especially difficult when simultaneously eating a burger), and carry anything heavier than a single dinner plate. And forget about knitting. 😔 My family doctor thought that a cortisone shot might alleviate the pain. When the radiologist began gliding the transducer over my elbow, he gave me a quizzical look:

"There's nothing wrong with your elbow."

What he didn't say, but his facial expression conveyed was, "Why are you here?"

"Oh, the pain isn't there, it's here." I rubbed a spot on my forearm. "I have a bump."

"You have a bump."

"Uh-huh."

Again, his face clearly said, "The crazy is strong with this one!" However, his eyebrows nearly flew off his face upon gliding his wand over the spot I'd indicated. There, on the screen of the ultrasound machine, was what looked like a bloated kidney bean.  

"You really do have a bump!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell everyone for the past 10 years! Finally, someone believes me!"

So what is this beany bump? Why, it's a tumor, of course! 😬 My body is just so incredibly good at growing them! No worries, this tumor is benign, which means noncancerous. Phew! So after an MRI confirmed the diagnosis of a schwannoma/nerve sheath tumor, approximately 1.7 cm x 1.3 cm x 2.3 cm in size, I was really hoping the plastic surgeon would take a look and say, "Oh, yeah, this is no biggie. Actually, do you have a couple minutes? I'll just pop that beany bump out right now!" Not so. Because Heather has to complicate absolutely everything, my schwannoma is entangled in both the ulnar and medial nerves. Yay. 🙄 Apparently, it would require a rather lengthy, complicated surgery under general anesthetic (no, thank you), a scar that could be between 6-8" in length (no, thank you), possible nerve grafting (no, thank you), and no guarantee that it would provide any relief (definitely no, thank you)!  So, yeah, I will not be pursuing that avenue any further. 😞 Because my main symptom is pain, not numbness, or tingling, surgery is not considered necessary. (My sore arm may beg to differ; Voltaren/diclofenac, anyone?) Also...after reviewing my medical history, Dr. Morhart told me that there was no way he wanted to operate on me. Lovely. Doctors are such scaredy cats. All because of a little near-death experience. 🤷🏻‍♀️

My summer happy place. Ken bought me this greenhouse last fall, to inspire me during chemo. It's part greenhouse, part she-shed, and a complete delight. 😊 

I had a Herceptin infusion a couple weeks ago. I always forget just how effective they are at wiping me out. I had grand plans to run errands after my appointment but nah, I went home and napped. 😴 The fact that it took 3 tries to start the IV, after blowing 2 of my veins, didn't help. It's only nausea, a headache, and body aches, but it's enough. Actually, some days it's too much. The night before my infusion I was looking at my "Inspirational Wall," which is where I've posted all the cards and letters I've received. I was thinking that perhaps it might be time to take them down, but after the last infusion, I've decided to leave them up until the end of July, when I'll be done with Herceptin. The reality is that I'm simply tired of cancer, and those cards and letters continue to inspire me. Just when I think that life has returned to normal (whatever that means), an appointment shows up on my calendar, and reality hits; I am still a cancer patient. 😕

I had an ECHO appointment again last week. I get them more frequently than the norm, as my heart has demonstrated signs of being negatively affected by Herceptin. After the last ECHO, my heart had actually improved from 2/12 areas being affected to 1/12. Unfortunately, this report reads a bit differently. Multiple areas are affected, though not overly so, just enough for the radiologist to write "consider cardio-oncology appointment." Really. Just peachy.🙄 I was hoping, after requiring 2 IV starts (for the contrast) which are becoming increasingly more painful, I would be given a glowing report! It's glowing alright...with problematic areas highlighted. 😏 I haven't heard from my oncologist yet, but I'm wondering if he will either suspend or simply end my Herceptin infusions. I've completed 13/17. Good enough, right?  Well, as a rule-follower, I would prefer to complete all 17, but if it's going to negatively affect my heart, then I'll pass. Please pray that the right decision is made! 

I was feeling a bit blue the other day. Okay, okay, I'll admit it; I was having a pity party for one. 🙈 I was driving and praying, a pretty normal occurrence, and asked God for comfort and inspiration. I had the radio on a Christian station but wasn't really paying a lot of attention to the music...until I prayed. Then I heard the lyrics of "Thank God, I Do," a song by Lauren Daigle, as never before. Below is an excerpt with a bit of editorializing. 

It's been a hard year, (Ya think?)

so many nights in tears (Lost count...)

All of the darkness, tryin' to fight my fears ("I wonder if this migraine means that my cancer has metastasized to my brain?")

I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know You (Can't fathom life without Jesus)

I'd probably fall off the edge (I've been way too close for comfort more times than I care to remember)

You're my safe place, my hideaway

You're my anchor, my saving grace

You're my constant, my steadiness

You're my shelter, my oxygen (Quite literally!)

I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know You

Thank God, I do.

Amen! I'm so very glad I know Him. 💗

I told you it's part she-shed! 😊 Come on over; coffee is always on! 

(Or, perhaps I should say, "The Nespresso heats up quickly!")