Day 6: OMG

Yeah, I had to do that, because this is an OMG kind of post.

Fil’s been receiving radiation for the past two weeks, every Tuesday. And yesterday? Her doctor called with her latest MRI results:

The tumor on her kidney? SHRANK. BY 1 MM YOU GUYS.

I know it’s not a lot, but her doctor is optimistic and he thinks Medicaid will now pay for full treatments and he’s got an oncologist willing to help.

Y’all…

This could mean that Fil gets better. That Fil goes to work. That.. OMG. My brain can’t handle it. I’ll just leave you with a song.

Song of the Day: Perfect Fingers – Tami Greer

In honour of my Fil, who is perfect, and amazing, and everything this old-fashioned lesbian could ever want. I love you, baby. (Also, it was in Better than Chocolate… he’s not a fucking drag queen, yo.)

Day 20: Perhaps

Today was a day I looked forward to all week. Well, since Tuesday.

In my human g&d class we’re studying the end of life, late adulthood and the end of days. Hosp!ce, etc. Our professor had a speaker planned to come in today, the man who serves as the Director of Programs for Hosp!ce Aust*in. He sounded like the most wonderful man in existence. He is a zen priest, a chaplain, has a Masters of Divinity from Harv@rd divinity school and so on and so forth.

So yes, he sounded like a remarkable man and I really looked forward to hearing him talk.

He talked at length about hospice, the benefits, etc. and the aspects of care given to those who enter hospice. Near the end of the discussion he mentioned a clinic here in Aust*in called Shr!vers Clinic. The only charity injection clinic for eleven counties. What does that mean? FREE chemotherapy/radiation treatments for those with little income and a cancer diagnosis of some kind.

Ever since Fil lost her insurance due to a state fuck up, she has been getting worse. The scale we’ve been scrambling to balance is tipping the wrong way – not in our favor. She hurts all day and barely sleeps. She’s constantly tired and sometimes doesn’t even want to move because of the pain.

We’ve not been sure for a while when she’ll get in to see her doctor, when she’ll get insurance, or even chemo. All we know is that she’s still sick, and probably getting sicker.

This knowledge, that there is help out there for us, gives me peace on this cold and windy night in Tex@s. Peace that perhaps, after a few phone calls and conversations, Fil will be back on the long and bumpy path to recovery.

But still, there lurks beneath this temporary relief, the fear that perhaps this is just another shining glimmer of hope that is not meant to be.

Tonight, I will only hold onto hope. Hope and my Fil.

Calling all Angels

I’m still reeling from the news a week ago.

Yeah, I’m speaking of the PW post.

Fil has cancer. Stage 0 Bladder (hopefully) cancer. Little free radical cells are attacking her body and making every ache of rheumatoid arthritis, every twinge of fibromyalgia, every shift of her ever increasing scoliosis ever crippling. The low dose chemo makes her nauseus, weak and exhausted. Every time she brushes her hair she inspects the brush for clumps of her beautiful brown hair.

Somehow this diagnosis feels unreal. Like we’re struggling against a rip tide with no side to swim to. Everything is sluggish and at the same time urgent, like death is sitting on our porch drinking our water and waiting for the last shoe to drop.

Very few of my friends know what’s going on. My best friend knows, but that’s about it. My family is there for us. They’ve put money forward when we’re hurting (since Fil doesn’t work we’re pretty much broke) and provided sanctuary against the rising tide of anxiety and fear. I know no greater comfort than having my family at our back providing support when we need it, reassurance when possible, and love constant.

I know we will get through this. I know this will make us all the stronger, all the more cautious. We’re not new to the fragility of life lesson. Both Fil and I have lost those we love, watched family wither and die before our eyes. No matter how many deaths you see, there is no way you can become jaded towards it. We are constantly in awe at the precious life given to us, which makes the nagging fear of the worse more like a Balrog beneath the bed than a dark cloud knocking on the wall.

I just wonder when we’ll get through this. Haven’t we suffered enough loss in these short 2 years? I know there are others who have suffered more, lost more, seen harder times and gotten through to the better side. But doesn’t humanity allow each of those people a moment to feel bleak and lost, alone in a growing pool of obstacles? I think so, and I’m taking advantage of my moment.

But I will not let this terror rule our lives. I will be Fil’s rock when she needs it, I will need her when she wants to be strong. I will let her do the laundry and make applesauce cake and not nag her about over exerting herself. The fastest way to heal is to let her do what brings her joy. That is something I will have to work on.

I won’t let this cancer change our future or shrink our desires. I think because of it we will fight for children harder, save more for a home and plan better. But most of all? I won’t let this damn cancer change us as a couple.

Walk us through this one…

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Misery

Well, not REALLY misery. But most definitely a lot more than I can handle right now.

A few posts ago I was optimistic that things would regulate after our third visit to the hospital. Things… haven’t.

After her visit to the hospital, the hospital labs called saying there were abnormal cells growing on her kidney and ovary, bacteria or something that they couldn’t identify. Abnormal usually means bad, in doctor’s words.

Fil has not gotten better in any way. Instead of the antibiotics perking her up, they did nothing. She went to her PCP because a growth on her hip (one that has been there for a few years) was growing rapidly. Her doctor sampled the growth and confirmed a diagnosis of MRSA* … finally, a frickin’ diagnosis!! He put her on doxycycline, hoping it’d cure the MRSA. Assuming that the MRSA was the cause for all of the pain from her kidney all the way to the lingering pain in her shoulder, we’re ALL hopeful that if we cure the MRSA we cure everything. Oh fingers crossed.

So with doxycycline in hand, we forged on. Fil, go figure, didn’t respond to the doxycycline. Normally, doxycycline makes you feel better after a few doses. The growth, however, was still growing and getting way more painful. She called her doctor who quickly informed us to rush to the ER where he’d send over a letter for immediate admission into the hospital.

We scrambled around trying to figure out what to do with JT while we were gone. My parents were awesome enough to take him even though he had tons of homework to do and there was an open-ended time-frame in which he’d need to be off our hands. We got him packed and dropped him off at my ‘rents place. I made sure Mel ate some dinner and we settled into the ER waiting room for a long haul. This was around 6 when we started our wait.

By 8 we were back in a room where we already knew we’d be going home soon. The ER doctor was pompous and ignorant. Even though we BOTH said she was diagnosed with MRSA no one seemed to care or aknowledge that there was this incredibly sick patient on their hands. So they gave her a CT scan to figure out where her kidney stones are (3 in the kidney that are so small they shouldn’t cause much irritation) and some fluids because she was dehydrated. Right before we left her doctor did a little surgery and drained the growth on her hip (he cut her open right there!). We had a moment of “I hope you get MRSA you ignorant ass” because he didn’t use any protective gear besides gloves) after he left. Sounds a bit cruel, but they treated her like she was a crazy person with a medical dictionary diagnosing a weird abscess on her hip.

Anywho, with all that done we were out by 10:30 and home by midnight (we had to drop off and pick up medicines and get some groceries) so JT got to spend the night at my parents house which I’m sure he soaked up and relished. My parents were even wonderful enough to take him to school in the morning. What a relief.

All of that trauma, the nervousness of Fil possibly being hospitalized, trying to keep her quiet and calm so she didn’t flip out while shaking around in my own head.

I don’t know what to think of the whole thing. If she doesn’t just have MRSA, if the MRSA doesn’t clear up soon… oh who knows, she might have cancer. What do I do then? How do I survive that?

Narrowly

This post gets me out of being a bad blogger, I narrowly avoided the title, horray! It’s only been under a week but it’s felt like a lot longer. A lot has happened since I posted photos of adorable li’l Baby B.

On the top of the list, Fil’s kidney stones turned into something way more terrible. So far we’ve been in the ER two more times. They’ve done a pelvic to eliminate ovarian cysts, another CT to eliminate appendicitis and a series of swabs and smears to make sure nothing harmful is growing in or around her. The recent visit showed a recurrence of her UTI. Her doctor put her on a different antibiotic and sent her home again.

I hope this is the last visit to the ER. She’s been out of work since her first visit and been in unreasonable amounts of pain. Yeah, I’m going a little batty with her here all the time. As a good wife, I want her to get all the rest and attention to she needs to heal, but I need my sanity back. There’s no room for me to study (school’s started) or clean anything like it’s supposed to be. I really want that normalcy of a routine back. Fil at work, Monster at school and myself at home.

I think things will regulate soon.

The next change.

We’ve adopted a new kitten into the family. A squirrely little princess named Isis (we call her Spicy) who lolls around on us and furniture like we’re her own personal mattresses. She’s about three months old and weighs practically nothing, I’d give her 3-4 lbs at the top. There’s been so much drama since we brought her home. Neither of us had ever introduced new kittens into the mix with an incredibly territorial older cat. Nefi was awful. She hissed, she spat, she growled, she sulked and hid. When Isis went into hiding for 12 hours we decided it’d probably be a good idea to separate the girls until Nefi got over herself. That was a good idea. Things are better now. Nefi still hisses occasionally, but indulges Isis’ playful side and lets Isis chase her around for about 20 minutes. As long as Isis stays off of Nefi’s chair and away from Nefi’s cat milk, things are pretty good.

The kitten purchase was mostly to benefit Nefi. She’s lonely and incredibly needy – I do mean needy, she whines for attention even after hours of undivided attention spent on her. We hope that Spicy will alleviate that needyness and maybe help Nefi get over her spoilt princess attitude. All the better if she gets over the “only kitty” syndrome before we have a baby. Nefi was all to clear she did NOT like Baby B when she was over.

Amidst hair cuts and first days of school, I feel like the crumbling wall of my life is picking itself up. Relationship wise, Fil and I are at the highest point we’ve ever been at. Our fights are small, petty and blow over in 5 minutes. We’re way more connected on things and devote more time to ourselves as a couple and as individuals. I feel like things have finally turned back around.

However, Monster is being a bit of a brat. But that’s his normal at school attitude, I suppose. We’ll see how he does on medication for his ADHD.

Now, it’s absurdly late and I have class tomorrow. Hopefully I get just enough sleep to normalise my schedule and make it through the day without collapsing.

Left of Normal

The past few days have been utterly hectic.

Let’s say that, two Tuesdays ago, Fil began complaining of lower abdominal pain. Since I used to refer to period cramps my mom got as “lower stomach pain” I just kind of assumed she was ovulating (we’ll get to that diagnosis later) and it was a specifically tender ovulation. It happens to me alllll the time. We dismissed it, but just in case it was a bladder infection, we stepped up her cranberry juice and water intake.

Well, Sunday said “lower abdominal pain” grew worse. It was hot, it was throbbing, radiating out from her lower RIGHT side. I panicked. The super  cautious, nervous and always pessimistic mothering side grew wild and crazy and started screaming “APPENDICITIS” loudly in my ear. I checked symptoms (even though I knew them by heart from med. term  AND high school anatomy) with WebMD and confirmed that Fil had an almost textbook case of appendicitis. All of Saturday night I fretted away in bed, restlessly tossing and turning, fussing with the sheets. I barely slept. Not to mention the fact that I had gotten almost zero sleep the night before. (More on that in a later post)

So Sunday night I convinced her to go to the hospital. We took JT to IHOP and got him settled with his video game and snacks. Somehow we always end up in the ER at midnight. Her doctor and her nurse were both nervous about appendicitis, and after her bloodwork and urinalysis came up blank, she was sent in for a CT. Which revealed…

kidney stones.

I was never so glad to be wrong in my whole life. A wave of relief washed over me as I realized Fil was NOT going in for surgery and I could take my stupid sick wife home that night. After an injection of morphine we were off into the night to get her perscriptions. That took us to Walgreens where we got school supplies for JT at 5 a.m.

What’s left of our normal life is lying the ruins of our bedroom. The floor is messy with bits of paper, dust and probably a few crumbs from dinner last night. We’ve indulged in Fil taking sick days. We ate out more than we’d eaten out in 7 months. We finally saw The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian at the dollar theatre in Round Rock. (There were a few parts that were not IN THE BOOK and that made me a titch twitchy) Most importantly we got to spend time just being a couple. Time that, I believe, we dearly needed.

I’m thankful that Fil didn’t have appendicitis, but I’m also thankful for this time we’ve had just being a goofy, snuggly, worry free couple.

But now, what’s left of normal is wriggling its way back into place. At almost 10 in the A.M. I’ve finished all necessary cleaning that can be done before the boy gets up. Next I have errands to run and even more cleaning to do. It was good while it lasted, but I’m glad to have some semblance of routine and normalcy back.