Tail Kicking

My month of radiation recovery, during which I’m told many patients spend taking a vacation (against our doctors’ wishes), is now over.  And I now understand why they ask us not to go anywhere and cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would not obey—it was not a good month!  I have been a hazy/loopy, ever-worsening lump of deaf craziness.  I’ve spent my days in dreams while awake, which made sense to me, and trying to remember who I might be talking to.  My left ear deafness got much worse (I cannot hear from it at all), and my right ear is partially deaf as well.  It is maddening.    

All of this groaning is to say that it turns out I’m on a three to four week hang from the effects of what I got in treatment.  Gosh, I wonder why my radiation doctor, Dr. K, my head guy for the six weeks of treatment, didn’t make sure I had that information?  It makes me laugh to think about it.  Just as all the bad effects start to show up Dr. K gets to scoot out, I spend 4 weeks “recovering”—i.e. “suffering”—and then Dr. G gets to deal with me.  Pretty good set up, radiation staff!

I kid, of course.  That whole staff was amazing.  And do I really want to be convinced in advance of just how bad it is going to get?  (Answer: No, I do not)  Also, I was slowly weaning off of the remainder of my steroids, and that is never any fun either.  Advantages here now include sleeping fully through the night!

Now: exciting news arrived from Dr. G yesterday.  He reported on my MRI to see the results of all this hoopla and the results show, “No apparent enhancement.”  This means no level 3 chunk is there anymore.  Doesn’t it seem like it should sound like more of a big deal?  It naturally says lots of other things, but that is pretty exciting.  It says that my brain is still puffy, that Lloyd in general shrank slightly, and that I am in quite good shape.  I am kicking tail.

Next: I go back on chemo.  I am not looking forward to it, but we will get through it.  Five days on, then three weeks off; a significantly higher dose; for six months or as long as my body can withstand it.  Dr. G gave his personal advice to take anti-nausea meds on the sixth day, too.  I think I will obey.

It has been so nice outside, and I’ve been upsetting the doves (who are already on their second set of 2012 babies)  just by being in the garden so often.  I recently realized I’m better than half-bald—the bottom third of my new hairline takes a sharp turn to the right.  My ponytail is not going to win any contests.  

Things are going genuinely well, which is a funny thing to say when you can’t hear and still don’t feel terrific, but it is true!  I’m on the upswing, my treatment WORKED, and the chemo will continue to do the job.  Back in December we were minutes from a very different path—one with no chemo—and look where we are now!  I am incredibly lucky to have the doctors and staff I do, the friends and family who support me, and mostly Mark.  

I say it all the time, but I am the luckiest person I know.  

 Love,--Kristina (& Mark)