A setback

My new hat

She made me laugh when she took this picture with my new hat.  I wasn't feeling too happy, though. I'd just been told that I can't start taking the cyclophosphamide, because my blood test was not good. My white blood cells and neutrophils were too low.  About half normal. What does that mean?   I began to worry, but Keith, the head nurse of the chemotherapy suite, said not to worry. He was sure it would soon recover and told me to come back for another blood test in two days' time - on Thursday.  This was on Tuesday. That would mean I would be going to the hospital like a yoyo this week - back and forth almost every day. I wasn't too happy about the prospect.

I wasn't feeling too happy to begin with. I woke up really tired and achey, happy that I had arranged to get transport.  The weather was iffy and my abdomen was pulling in all directions. I had great difficulty walking upright, even with my walking stick. I have neuropathy in my feet from the chemo seven years ago and I am very careful about not falling. Rather the walking stick than a fall. I can't understand people who refuse to use a walking aid out of vanity, when they clearly need it.

In any case, I felt I needed a pick-me-up. So, while I was waiting for my volunteer driver, I took a look at the volunteer sales desk and bought myself a lovely, hand knitted hat, the one in the picture taken by Nada, the amazing volunteer coordinator. It seems she is not only a brilliant coordinator and human being, but also a good photographer. She made me laugh so hard that you really can't tell I am sick at all. That made my day.

Well, not quite.

When I got home, I felt really strange. A heavy fatigue as well as the discomfort in the abdomen. The weather outside was getting worse. Cold and wet and windy. Slowly it dawned on me that I was having one of my chronic adrenal episodes that I've been living with for over 25 years, something I can never get used to, but something I no longer fear and learned to manage. I think it's called adrenal insufficiency or adrenal storm. It's basically an inappropriate release of adrenalin, and the symptoms vary from very mild to unbearably scary, both for me and those around me. Once I realised what was happening, I went into my coping mode, which is biofeedback - a mind control technique I learned specifically to lower my blood pressure during these episodes.  It's a sort of quick meditation - a Pavlovian mental trick - to put the body into alpha relaxation mode. It helps to quiet the body and also eliminate the fear of the episode. It works for me. It would be nice if one could learn some similar mental trick to remove the cancer as well as the fear.  Ah well.... one can't have everything. (Sigh)