The more things change...

Looks like this cancer is going to kill me after all. My job now is to make sure we have a long truce and postpone the inevitable amicably, for a long time to come.  Easily said than done.

A week ago Sunday night I passed out and when I got to my senses, I found myself on the bathroom floor with my head popped up against the wall. I was alone. Scary stuff. It took a while to figure out what happened (I have never passed out before) and got to my phone. I called the ambulance and then spent the next week in hospital.

I guess every part of my body was listened to, prodded and scanned. It's a new hospital. They just opened the wards a few months ago and still have a few things to smooth out from the patients' point of view. Otherwise, I was happy to be there, as it coincided with the horrible storm that hit our region the day after I got to the hospital. Luckily, my apartment was safe and dry when I returned, but then a day later we got a hailstorm, which sounded really scary from inside.

I've been at home for two days now. I slept some 16 hours the first night and I am still pretty tired. I sent the hospital release notes to my son and he forwarded them to a medical friend. The news is not very good. I just have to deal with whatever comes next in this decline to the end, however long it takes.

Many moons ago, my mother thought she had cancer and told me that if she saw that she was coming to the end, she would take something. She made me promise not to stop her. It was the hardest promise I have ever had to make. I thought about that in the hospital. Would I take something?  The answer is no, not from my present vantage point. Life is beautiful. I love the sunshine, I love my family and friends. Why hasten things? But then, my fractured rib has healed and I don't have any sharp pain.

Although I am very slow in my movements, I can deal with everything in its own time. I don't ever want to lose the mental clarity I have until the curtain goes down. Of course, that's what my Dad said. He was a doctor and looked on death as THE enemy he faced all his working life. He was determined to see him face to face and refused all morphine. I am told it was an epic battle. I wasn't allowed to see him, as I was only 12 years old.

Getting back to my situation. I have been very sluggish since I came home from the hospital. It takes an effort to get out of bed. Of course the weather doesn't help. It's been raining hard again and the temperature has gone down. Yesterday I succumbed and put the heater on for the first time. What a difference that makes. I feel like I am in a warm cocoon and never want to get out of it.

So, I have given myself up to the elements. My carer is coming today to clean and I am staying home. Tomorrow is another day. I'll be energetic tomorrow.

Slow days

Sorry, I've been pretty slack with my blog entries lately. That's because nothing was really happening. I  was in pain and had little energy, so I adapted my days to deal with that. I was slow with everything, including the administrative stuff I need to do before I move. It seems overwhelming.

Last month the Professor was away, so I saw his Registrar, who didn't know much about me and didn't really examine me.  Today, it was the man himself. My appointment was at 9am. I had my usual list of grievances: fatigue, pain, runny nose, cough, and various body functions, lethargy, dry skin, etc, etc. He gave me a thorough examination and sent me off for a chest A-Ray. 

Sure enough. I have a rib fracture on the other side from where I had a few before. OK, that explains the pain and pain. So, I went on the internet and came up with this very interesting explanation of a rib fracture. So this explains most of what I thought were side effects of the chemo. Maybe this Caelyx is not as bad as I thought. However, it can damage the bones, which lead to hairline fractures, so maybe it is. Now that I am aware, I am not going to focus on it anymore. Evidently the pain will go away after 6 weeks or so, so I am about half way through or more.

What else has been happening? Well, because of all these cancer treatment related things I have been less active in my social life. I am undable to go to functions at night, or if I do I need a ride and also need to sleep during the day to have enough energy. I can do one or maybe two things in the morning and early afternoon, but mostly I am done for after 2-3pm. For someone who has been as active and as involved in community and the arts as I've been in the past, this seems like purgatory.

For the past couple of months I seem to be on my bed for much of the day, either sleeping or watching TV, movies or play iPad games. For the past two weeks I've been getting bored with all this, so I put it down with getting better. Today's blood test confirmed it.

The liver function is better and the major organs are fine. The cancer markers are not normal, but stable, as they have not changed in the past month. Hooray! We can now make concrete plans for my move to the US and I will have only one more chemo - in May. I love it. I really look forward to playing with my grandson in person. I'll put up with the pain and discomfort.

My personal life has also improved in the past week. On Sunday I went to the Australian Museum to see the National Georgraphic's Wildlife Photographer photographer of the year exhibition. I go every year and this time I was determined to see it also, despite the pain. We rented a wheelchair (for free!) and it was fantastic.

On Monday, my final social justice project in Australia became a reality. We had 70+ people attend our Table Talk at the Jewish Museum to change the conversation about asylum seekers in our community, organised by the NSW Jewish Board of Deputies and the Sydney Alliance. The original idea came from my work with both organisations over a number of years.  It was fabulous and I hope the conversations will continue after I move back to the US.

On Tuesday, my body said: 'go to hell!' and I rested most of the day. Tomorrow we will have the same conversation, but I feel that things are moving in a positive direction, so I'll listen to the old dog and pay attention to its needs. What else can I do, if I want to get well and prove the prognosis wrong?