Saturday, March 28, 2020

Chapter Nine, Post #1 Story of Ken

Dear, dear Angels,

Due to my physical energy, difficulties with my typing and piecing together of info over the past month, you'll probably read this ten times fast than I'll type it. Luckily, Google will archive it until I and finished and send it. There have been a few twists and turns over the past month, so forgive me for not sending out any updates.

The first few days after chemo set the tone for my stamina and physical discomfort, so I did less and less but just try to hold the line. The next month has been a blur and I have no notes to speak of. There were some great findings, after the follow-up MRIs and CT scans of the thoracic area and cranium, so I'll mention those. (the later follow up was probably 2 to three weeks after May 20, the date of my chemo.

The chemo actually commenced after an earlier (Feb 13) CT scan, looking at the work done on the brain by the radiosurgery in December. The brain showed that the original lesion was dissipating (being disposed of by the body), which was great news, but a goose-egg like a lump under the scalp that had been presumed to be something else was now being viewed a cancerous tumor since it had grown. While I waited and chatted with Rita, a few friend in administration at St. Thomas, The Radio Oncologist, Dr. Rosenblatt consulted with Medical Oncologist Dr. Blakely about the new growing mass. Rather than treat it five times (like the lesion) to get rid of it and the pain (believe me...the most painful part of my morning every morning requiring morphine pills every 4 hours) it was decided by both of them that the "chemo-cocktail", as I like to call it, was designed for a variety of types of cancer including that, and that going ahead with chemo the following week would prove how well it worked. It made sense to me so I agreed. 

Note of not-so small-miracles: A few weeks later, the new scans showed the brain free from any signs of cancer and it was obvious the new mass was now nearly 100% gone, and totally pain-free. Johnetta Blakely is a Cancer-Sniper of World Class, in my book. Other body-cavity MRIs showed no spread of cancer either. So, I continue basically to recover from chemotherapy. 

A couple of weeks later, shortness of breath became a real issue so I called the Oncology Hotline and they recommended the ER. I went right away and, they found me to have pretty low blood pressure and evidence of fluid on the lungs. The ER Doctor ( a cool guy and intelligent one) told me it was not good to send me home without dealing with such low blood pressure and talked me into being admitted into the hospital. I agreed.

I ended up staying a week, and not much progress was made, at first. Eventually, as the fluid went down, along with the swelling in the ankles and feet, and the blood pressure became reasonable enough for them, they opted to release me. I'm back home with Steve, and some new medicines, and am in good hands. They even set me up with home health care visits for all the technical stuff and monitoring of meds and vitals. They are even on call 24/7 if need be, so I'm recuperating as fast as I can by doing everything as right as they suggest, and feel more than just "well supported". Dr. Blakely has wisely chosen to postpone any more chemo until the body is sturdy enough to handle it. She said, "Chemo's meant to help you, not kill you." So, we all watch the numbers. I even bought a new blood pressure machine. (only to find that the one I had was just fine.) We state-o-the-art baby!

I don't want to start whining, but every sentence of this email required multiple editing and was very taxing. (i refuse to write crap, even in an email) Meaning, there probably will not be a steady flow of them. I am still available by all means, individually though. I prefer to keep the phone calls themselves to a minimum, but it's not NEARLY as problematic as it used to be. Still, it'd be best to pre-arrange any phone call.

I love and thank you for your patience and support. (and messages and cards) As I like to say, "It's palpable", meaning actually felt in my physical body. 

Peace and Health and Happiness to you.
Grateful Ken

"No chemo until further notice"

p.s. I'm in love