First Consolidation

I was hospitalized for my first consolidation after the trip to Carlisle for Dean's retirement. Cheryl returned from a trip to Arizona on the 3rd of May and drove me to Tufts. "Consolidation" is a six day period of chemotherapy that is less intense than the first time. Cheryl awoke on the 4th running a fever and couldn't come see me. She went to the emergency room and was diagnosed as having a sinus infection. The rooms on the oncology ward are kept as sterile as possible. All visitors and staff wear robes and plastic gloves to protect the patient from infection. 


Cheryl did not recover until the end of the week and returned to pick me up. You are released from the hospital as soon as your last chemotherapy is given. There is a higher incidence of infection occurring in a hospital than in your own home.  


Since I had no visitors that week it became retreat time and I had brought a book to read. "The Good Book" by the Reverend Professor Peter J. Gomes. He was born in Boston, Massachusetts in 1942 and graduated from Harvard Divinity School. He studied at Tuskegee Institute and in 1970 he came to Harvard as assistant minister in The Memorial Church. In 1974 he was appointed Plummer Professor of Christian Morals and Pusey Minister in The Memorial Church, Harvard University. A good friend of mine had given me his book of Sermons several years ago and I had not yet read them. I had heard of Reverend Gomes and that he was really good but I have a lot of books to read.  I don't know why I bought another book by him without reading the first but I did. I thought that "The Good Book" was the last book he had written before his death but it wasn't. 


I began reading and became mesmerized by what I read. It is about reading the Bible. He covered many topics such as "Women and the Bible," "The Bible and Science," "The Bible and Homosexuality," which made it easy to jump around and not necessarily read straight through. As I read more and more I knew that I hadn't adequately prepared myself. I didn't have a highlighter pen or any other means to mark the passages that were most relevant to me.  


The staff of nurses and technicians were in and out taking vital signs and checking on me, of course, and I enjoyed it very much. Several stayed and talked for a while and some commented that they liked coming to my room. I reveled in the attention and met several people that had we been connected in another way would probably have become friends because we shared interests. Everyone asked about the book I was reading and they gave me paper for notes and found a highlighter for me!


I was most impressed by Reverend Gomes inclusiveness. He excluded no one from the love of God. He was also a wonderful writer and at times I felt the need for a dictionary! I read and re-read. The book excited me and touched me   in ways not usually experienced. I finished the book while in the hospital and read parts of the book a second time. I was enjoying a "high" all week long! I recommended the book to everyone. 


A woman who was with social services came to see me and said she would  like for the chaplain to meet me. I agreed that it would be nice. The chaplain was a woman and she came up to see me that afternoon. I enjoyed meeting her but probably talked too much! 


I was so disappointed that I had not known about Reverend Gomes when he was at Harvard. I could have driven to the chapel and attended services and heard him in person. A lost opportunity that I regret. 


I intend to review "The Good Book" again. Especially the chapters of special interest. And I am now reading "The Gospel of Jesus Christ" and enjoying a sermon before sleeping at night! Though he is no longer living and I never met him, he has had a profound influence on my spiritual life and I am grateful to have met him.


A meaningful quote from his chapter on Women and the Bible:


"When the congregation is asked to sing 'Rise Up, O Men of God,' are the women to remain seated, or are they to think of themselves as Elizabeth I did, as a man trapped in the puny body of a woman?"


The Reverend Peter J. Gomes, Preacher to Harvard University
"The Good Book, Reading the Bible with Mind and Heart"

Palm Sunday Miracle!

I received so many cards and notes in the hospital wishing me well and I wanted to make a scrapbook of my mementos to be reminded of the love that surrounded me. So I put them all in a box as soon as I got home and when I was strong enough I went shopping! 


I loved the cards. They were all beautiful and reassuring of the sender's affection and the prayers that were said but there was one special card I received that was very dear to me. My youngest daughter had made me a frog card on her circuit machine and it was adorable!  You are aware that I am extremely fond of frogs! I planned to put it on the first page of the scrapbook.


I bought a scrapbook and some paper and came home with grand intentions. I got as far as placing my beautiful frog on the first page. As I thought about the scrapbook it dawned on me that a top loading scrapbook wasn't going to work because the cards could not be opened. I needed a scrapbook that would allow me to open and read the cards. We looked several places and no such thing seemed to exist any more! We went on line and finally located a company that made scrapbooks but they were VERY expensive. I was discouraged and set the scrapbook idea aside for awhile, returning to Walmart the top loading model we had bought and the extra paper. 


One day I went to look at my cards and the FROG WAS MISSING!!! I searched and searched and was very distraught. Everything was there that should have been there but NOT THE FROG! My older daughter knew how much it meant to me and how upset I was and she methodically went through the living room but to no avail. Finally she suggested returning to Walmart's and inquiring if it  
been found among the return. Having worked at Walmart's in the past she knew the procedure for returned goods. She went to the scrapbook department and went through every scrapbook on the shelves.  NO FROG. I resigned myself to the disappointment I felt.


Several weeks later--the frog had been delivered in early February and now it was Palm Sunday--Cheryl and I stopped by Walmart's after church because I needed a larger wrench than I had to adjust the kitchen sink. She went to the tools department and I strolled down to the yarn department. When Cheryl joined me, she noticed that there was a huge display of scrapbooks behind us.
While I continued to look at the yarn, she picked up a scrapbook, opened it
and THERE WAS MY FROG!!!!! We were incredulous and I was so stunned and happy that I wanted to cry! It was a coincidence, the nature of which was so unlikely, that it cannot be logically explained.


I am now in possession of my FROG again and I have found a scrapbook that allows you to open the pages for viewing. 

We think too small, like the frog at the bottom of the well. He thinks the sky is only as big as the top of the well. If he surfaced, he would have an entirely different view.
Mao Tse-Tung

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/frog.html#LI8SJzrPZaHoMFwB.99

Too much. Too soon.

In spite of having a good report yesterday, I am not so good. I awoke this morning and wanted to go to A.C.Moore to find the special yarn that was being knitted yesterday into a spiral of scarf. I was determined to go! I was sure they would have it in muted colors of purple and they did. For whatever unknown reason I am excited about the color purple this year. Ironic that the color has been adopted to raise awareness of leukemia and lymphoma. 


We didn't get started until late in the morning but drove to Salem after going to the bank and then sitting in a parking lot trying to orient myself on how to get there. My brain does not remember directions well and I am often confused. The Garmin was also rattled but after a few minutes of thinking clearly I remembered the route. 


We arrived around 11:00 o'clock and should have stopped at the Weathervane for lunch before shopping but I was excited about the yarn and wanted to see it.  The yarn was lovely and I bought two skeins. We spent quite a while browsing around, looking at patterns, planning projects.  


They had a sale on t-shirts so we bought purple t-shirts for sleeping and bought purple photo books for $1.00! We were having a good time. Then we wandered into the bead department and I began to feel tired. Very tired. I walked up to get in the check out line and suddenly knew I was in trouble. I called Cheryl for help and after a few seconds she recognized that I wasn't quite right. I left the basket and headed for the door with Cheryl close on my heels. My balance was very poor and my walking stick wasn't keeping me on course. 


We made it outside but I couldn't hold myself together to get to the car. Cheryl supported me under my arms and for a few seconds I don't remember anything. I slid to the walk and in a few seconds I was laying down and enjoying the breeze. A young woman had stopped to help. She was so very kind and said she had worked on an oncology ward. The paramedics were called, arrived and wanted to know if I had fallen, wanted to go to the hospital, and took my vital signs. They were young and very strong. I did not have the strength to get up on my own. However I was rational and when standing again I seemed to be OK. My blood pressure was low for me but not dangerously so and my blood sugar was normal. If my fever went up and I worsened I would go to Tufts immediately but I didn't think that Lawrence Hospital could help me.


The episode I had today was very frightening and humiliating. Being overcome by a physical condition is a total loss of control. I was embarrassed by my inability to control myself.  I have had two similar episodes where I was overcome by the circumstances and I felt utterly helpless. The first incident happened during my first consolidation. Fortunately I was able to recover myself because I made it to the car and rested there.


There is something incongruous about a 78 year old woman lying on the sidewalk outside a busy store unable to get up! I want so much to be healthy and well and capable of living a normal life.  I have been tired since Halloween. Please God, help me to be patient.

Nagging Fears

Today has been a mixed blessing. I had an appointment with the lab for blood work and a shot that helps my white blood cell count go up. The ride into Boston was pleasant with unusually low traffic and we arrived a little early. Harriet, the woman who runs the lab, was having a break and about four couples arrived in the waiting room. I have nicknamed Harriet my "Chief Vampire" since she has drawn vials from me!  The people who congregate in the waiting room usually arrive in twos. One is the person who has cancer and the other is a loved one, a husband or wife, a sister or brother, a daughter or son. After the initial shyness wears off, they engage in questions and inquiries, sharing casual conversation. The female patients sometimes remark on each other's chemo cap and discuss the growth, or lack thereof, of their hair. The men are not as outgoing. Today, there was a woman who came with her brother, and she was knitting a lovely long curly scarf. Cheryl and I were much admiring it and wanted to know where she found the yarn. She told us and said that it was an easy pattern. 


A brief encounter but a warm and friendly one. They were both from another country, I didn't recognize the language, and the brother spoke haltingly. There seems to be a very special camaraderie between the persons who have cancer and those who are concerned about them. 


Harriet was back and I was called in for blood and a shot that helps reinstate my immune system. Then we waited for the blood to be sent to the blood analyzers. Today I was thrilled! My count was good and I did not have to go to the infusion center! We left and drove home--another pleasant ride with little traffic. I celebrated with a pair of earrings in the gift shop!


I was both elated and a little bit scared. I am more tired this time and I'm having some difficulty with my balance. I list to one side or the other and feel like an old battleship. Of greater concern is that I am worried about my eyes. I am using antibiotic eye drops for ten days. Two drops in both eyes every six hours. I have always been very protective of my eyes because I have worn glasses for most of my life. Until cataract and lasik surgery miraculously restored my eyes to near perfect vision and colors appeared brighter! Now my eyes are not focusing well and I'm having trouble typing on the computer.
On top of it all, the eye-drops are in a ridiculously small bottle and getting another prescription is a pain!


There is always the nagging fear that you will sabotage your own recovery by not having a positive attitude. It is an all encompassing disease.  

Second Consolidation Completed

Today is the last day of my hospitalization at Tufts Medical Center. I am receiving my sixth and last chemotherapy at 3:00 o'clock which takes about an hour and a half and then I will be free to go! I am feeling a little tired and a little off balance because my immune system is destroyed and it will take a few days to build back up. I will be back on Tuesday for a shot to help the process and to give blood and on Thursday to see my doctor. I am anxious to go home but a little sad saying good-bye to the "saints" on the oncology ward! They have truly been wonderful and I will miss their camaraderie and care.


My next hurdle will be another bone marrow test! Then my name goes into the computer for random selection to one of two paths. 


I am on an everything cooked diet until my white blood cells have returned to normal. No salads or other raw foods. I googled diet plans designed to promote health in cancer patients. After years of over-eating, I have to learn to be more concerned. No more pie or cake for breakfast!


I am fortunate because in spite of neglecting my health as I've grown older, I am strong and healthy except for the cancer. Now I'm going to try to get a little bit healthier. 


Twice, Dr. Sprague has acknowledged the fact that I had a stroke and being taken seriously reassures me. And I am sure that she factors in my age as well. 


I have said so many good-byes in my life-time of military moving and they are always difficult! 






  

Growing Old!

I am re-posting a blog that I wrote on February 6, 2010 since it is very apropos to my cognitive impairment concerns!

Bemused & Befuddled

The following arrived in my email.
[Illustrated with cartoon figures of old people]
My forgetter's getting better,
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke

For when I'm "here" I'm wondering
If I really should be "there"
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!

Oft times I walk into a room,
Say "what am I here for?"
I wrack my brain, but all in vain!
A zero, is my score.

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say "Hi" and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, "who was that?"

Yes, my forgetter's getting better
While my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke.

CAN YOU RELATE ? ? ? Please send this to everyone you know because I DON'T REMEMBER WHO I SENT THIS TO!
Have a great day who ever you are!
Have a great day in spite of the fact that I’m losing my mind? I am bemused and befuddled by the above. I believe that a sense of humor, especially the ability to laugh at ourselves, is essential to our health and well being, whatever our age, but is the loss of mental faculties really funny? My father suffered senile dementia and my mother’s death certificate listed the cause of death as “Alzheimer’s.” Needless to say, I am more than a little concerned about my risk factor as I grow older. Sometimes I laugh when I forget something but sometimes I feel sheer terror.

However, I think that I do not really find the above particularly humorous because it is a reflection of the stereotype of older people prevalent in our society. There are many persons who are advanced in years who are productive members of society, but in spite of ample evidence to the contrary, the stereotype prevails and often leads to the elderly being treated in a dismissive way. In many facilities for the elderly, residents are referred to as “Honey, Sweetie, etc.” Too often the elderly are treated like children. Children who are sometimes seen but not heard. Not listened to. Not noticed. Overlooked. Not taken seriously.

It is a subtle and pervasive discrimination and most people do not even realize they are doing it. Even some of us who are elderly, join in the joke rather than try to dispel the myth.

The next time you see an elderly person, remember, they are an adult inside an aging body hoping to be recognized and deserving of respect.

It is quite wrong to think of old age as a downward slope. On the contrary, one climbs higher and higher with the advancing years, and that, too, with surprising strides. Brain-work comes as easily to the old as physical exertion to the child. One is moving, it is true, towards the end of life, but that end is now a goal, and not a reef in which the vessel may be dashed. George Sand

Mary Had a Little Lamb

Mary had a little lamb,

whose fleece was white as snow.

And everywhere that Mary went,
the lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day
which was against the rules.

It made the children laugh and play,
to see a lamb at school.

And so the teacher turned it out,
but still it lingered near,

And waited patiently about,
till Mary did appear.

"Why does the lamb love Mary so?"
the eager children cry.

"Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know."
the teacher did reply.

I loved this nursery rhyme as a child and I have loved it as an adult because of the 23rd Psalm and because "Mary" was the Mother of Jesus and "loved the lamb!"

After my first month of being hospitalized and having lost 30 pounds, my clothes no longer fit.  Kohl's was having a sale so Cheryl and I went shopping. As we were paying at the cash register I looked at a display case that was featuring lambs. Easter was coming up so there were a lot of lambs to choose from. They had an especially appealing one that was sort of whimsical with a smile on his face and slightly drooping ears.  I felt perfectly ridiculous buying a lamb to sleep with at age 77!  But I think I felt the need for comforting that a stuffed animal can give a child. I had two stuffed dolls as a child. Sleepy Head and Cuddles! They slept with me every night and I loved them. 

So I bought the lamb and decided he would be my traveling companion to the hospital and that I would sleep with him at night. He doesn't exactly have a name. I call him the Lamb of God and he comforts me just as Sleepy Head and Cuddles did.