It’s my second day out of the hospital. Let’s keep in mind that I had been locked in a room, solitary, for 30 days, to keep me away from infections. I still have a weak - but functioning - immune system.
So what do I do after 30 days of supposed bed rest? I got shopping.
Yesterday was my first day out. My mom took me to Valley Fair Mall, and to get groceries.
Of course there was the argument of my assumably being too weak, versus my thought that I need to get back on my feet as soon as possible. I won.
First on the list was to get new glasses. Thanks to the “no infections” clause, I was not allowed to wear my contact lenses while in lock down. But I had no glasses either. This became a problem sooner than later. Basically, 30 days of blur. Only when at close enough range was I able to detect who were the hot nurses, and who were perhaps a bit less than hot (or, married, if the rings were in focus). TV was an interesting ordeal in itself.
In any case, I needed to get glasses, and Lenscrafters seemed to be the place to get them.
While in the mall, apparently I stared a bit too hard at a poster advertisement of Veronica Mars, admiring actress Kristen Bell. In fact, I was trying to get my eyes focused. This was rewarded with the onslaught of questions, “Do you like her? Is she ‘the one’? Is that it? You like her?” Geez! Get off of it. Locked in a hospital room is just the same as being in prison (I imagine). 30 days later, I’ll about like anyone who’s female and remotely attractive. Weakened state or not, the libido was working just fine.
Groceries galore were to follow, but with limited items of consumption. I apparently still had to be very careful of what went into me. Nothing that could potentially carry any germs, nothing that wasn’t within the proper boundaries of vitamin and mineral offerings, etc. I didn’t care. FOOD! Just give me something good to eat!
All in all, after a 30 day lock up, I think I spent 9 hours in total on my feet, walking the stores and all... and I loved it!
I did have to cover up in the sun, as I was susceptible to bright sunlight (skin exposure was a problem with my current chemo). That aside, it was all fine. I was a bit groggy and shaky on the feet, but you couldn’t sit me down.
Today, was Day 2 of my shopping and outside excursion extravaganza. Trader Joe's, Pizza My Heart, and more. Aahh, this was much needed.
OK, I need to go and take it all in now. Check in with you all later.
Tales of my having APL Leukemia, as well as other humorous medical issues. Inspiration that you yourself can potentially beat anything. We're all going to die at some point. What you do in the meantime is what matters. Keep busy, keep focused. Life is an adventure, no matter what happens.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
I got paroled from the hospital finally
Howdy folks!
Just a quick note to let everyone know that I was paroled from the hospital.
The docs figured that I stood a better chance of catching everyone else's diseases from within the hospital, and that I would be safer at home. So... off I was to trot home.
Keith and my mom came by to help pick up my apartment's worth of crap that I had accumulated in my room. Since I was Neutropenic (susceptible to any infections, not having an immune system), I was not allowed to leave my room for one month. So, it was a strange sensation to finally leave.
Before I left, they had to unhook me from my Pic Line I.V. That was attractive. Keith sat across the room, cringing at the thought. The doctor who was there to release me unhooked the line from the I.V. machine. He asked if I was ready to have the line taken out of my arm. The option was slowly and deliberately, but that would just prolong any odd sensations, or yanking it out quickly (but not so fast that it would damage the veins). As I thought about it for a moment, and Keith happened to look over, the doc just gave a good tug and pulled out about 3 feet or so of white line from my arm, which now had dripping bright red blood all over it. I thought, “Wow! Cool.” as something from the Alien films. Keith, on the other hand, was not so thrilled by his vision. I asked if that was it, and made sure no remnants remained inside. It was over and done, a bandage put in place over the hole, and I was ready to go.
It was under cover of the night (10 pm on Sunday, Aug. 28), so it wasn't that bad, but still... knowing that I was back in the big world was weird. It took me a bit to get accustomed to being able to walk around a bigger area, but I'm all settled in now. Looking forward to sleeping in a bed more my size. (Hospitals are not equipped to sleep someone 6’6“.)
I have to really say a HUGE Thank You to everyone who supported me emotionally (although it appears that I apparently emotionally supported many others through my own good spirits)... and wrote emails, and posted comments, and everything. And even some of the phone calls that I got were great. You are all awesome! And know that I would do the same for you. Friends (real friends... even new ones) are not something that I take lightly, and I truly appreciate everyone one individually.
So for now, I am going to be seen in outpatient clinics and still have a few treatments to go in the next couple of months or so. They will finally be satisfied by next year. All in all, it looks very good that I will be cured. I'm healing a bit slowly for my liking, but it's apparently within normal range, so I won't complain. More info on my progress as it comes.
And to those of you who have cancer, or some other disease, or know someone who is sick... I really hope that I have given you something to think about and some inspiration. Attitude is everything. My being locked in a room for one month was NOTHING (even with four chemo treatments), compared to people who spend months and years doing chemo while suffering. You've got to look upon your situations in life and think them through, then do whatever you need to, but be productive. If it's going to save your life... don't complain. Blood draws, IVs, dealing with doctors, it's all part of the game... just like what we deal with in the outside world. Make your game plan, decide what you want out of it all, and just do it.
Again, as you have been there for me, I hope that I can be there for you too.
All the best to everyone for now... :)
Just a quick note to let everyone know that I was paroled from the hospital.
The docs figured that I stood a better chance of catching everyone else's diseases from within the hospital, and that I would be safer at home. So... off I was to trot home.
Keith and my mom came by to help pick up my apartment's worth of crap that I had accumulated in my room. Since I was Neutropenic (susceptible to any infections, not having an immune system), I was not allowed to leave my room for one month. So, it was a strange sensation to finally leave.
Before I left, they had to unhook me from my Pic Line I.V. That was attractive. Keith sat across the room, cringing at the thought. The doctor who was there to release me unhooked the line from the I.V. machine. He asked if I was ready to have the line taken out of my arm. The option was slowly and deliberately, but that would just prolong any odd sensations, or yanking it out quickly (but not so fast that it would damage the veins). As I thought about it for a moment, and Keith happened to look over, the doc just gave a good tug and pulled out about 3 feet or so of white line from my arm, which now had dripping bright red blood all over it. I thought, “Wow! Cool.” as something from the Alien films. Keith, on the other hand, was not so thrilled by his vision. I asked if that was it, and made sure no remnants remained inside. It was over and done, a bandage put in place over the hole, and I was ready to go.
It was under cover of the night (10 pm on Sunday, Aug. 28), so it wasn't that bad, but still... knowing that I was back in the big world was weird. It took me a bit to get accustomed to being able to walk around a bigger area, but I'm all settled in now. Looking forward to sleeping in a bed more my size. (Hospitals are not equipped to sleep someone 6’6“.)
I have to really say a HUGE Thank You to everyone who supported me emotionally (although it appears that I apparently emotionally supported many others through my own good spirits)... and wrote emails, and posted comments, and everything. And even some of the phone calls that I got were great. You are all awesome! And know that I would do the same for you. Friends (real friends... even new ones) are not something that I take lightly, and I truly appreciate everyone one individually.
So for now, I am going to be seen in outpatient clinics and still have a few treatments to go in the next couple of months or so. They will finally be satisfied by next year. All in all, it looks very good that I will be cured. I'm healing a bit slowly for my liking, but it's apparently within normal range, so I won't complain. More info on my progress as it comes.
And to those of you who have cancer, or some other disease, or know someone who is sick... I really hope that I have given you something to think about and some inspiration. Attitude is everything. My being locked in a room for one month was NOTHING (even with four chemo treatments), compared to people who spend months and years doing chemo while suffering. You've got to look upon your situations in life and think them through, then do whatever you need to, but be productive. If it's going to save your life... don't complain. Blood draws, IVs, dealing with doctors, it's all part of the game... just like what we deal with in the outside world. Make your game plan, decide what you want out of it all, and just do it.
Again, as you have been there for me, I hope that I can be there for you too.
All the best to everyone for now... :)
Wednesday, August 3, 2005
Having cancer sucks....
I had recently mentioned in my previous blog that I had gone to San Diego Comic Con, and gotten sick there. Well, I'm here to tell you finally what really happened...
I started with a sore throat when I got to San Diego. What I didn't know was that this was the beginning signs of something more drastic than simply strep throat or pharyngitis (which I had been diagnosed as having).
On Fri., July 29, I had gone to my doctor's for another visit, and a random blood test. I had been hoping to fly to Los Angeles the next day and then come back that night. Friday afternoon, I got a very distressed phone call from my doctor begging me to not get on the airplane in the morning or, I would "not come home, ever". How true that could have been. I was checked into the hospital immediately that Fri. evening and felt myself physically sinking lower. It turned out that I had almost NO white blood cells, NO platelets (that help your blood clot), and was getting anemic And my blood count was dropping by the hour. Literally, I was dying as I stood.
For three days, no one could figure out what was wrong with me. They kept me pumped with antibiotics and transfusions. On Saturday morning, I seriously did not think I would make it through the following Monday. They were worried about my getting a fever, infection, or starting to bleed out. Well, as it happened, I did get a slight fever, and my nose started bleeding for over two days. As I write this, it has slowed down. I was a bit scared, to put it honestly. But worse, I had a few very close friends who were even more traumatized by what they heard. No one could believe that someone like myself, Mr. Get-Up-And-Go, who lived active and overworked, could ever get so sick, and so suddenly.
They took a bone marrow biopsy (no fun stroll in the park, I tell you), and finally found out what happened to me by this Monday, Aug. 1. It turned out that I had Leukemia. But they were not sure what type yet. I was given a 75% chance of recovery - meaning that it could recur, or cause other cancers later. On Tues. Aug. 2, they had it figured out. I have a subset of AML Leukemia called Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia.
Now, here's where the clincher, and the fun part begins. Of course, I would now have a new chapter to my life's adventures. It turns out that I have a form of Leukemia that (as my doctor told me) "If you had to have any form of Leukemia, this would be the one you want to have." It is a very rare type, and happens to be the easiest to treat. AND... has a 90% cure rate (meaning, no coming back). Also, it is not inherited, so I can still have kids later with no fear of transmission... provided I make it through.
They are trying to control my bleeding currently, and I am already being treated. Another strange portion of the story... instead of bombarding me with two or more major forms of chemotherapy, it is treated with ONE chemo drug cocktail (a rather milder form) for eight days, and... a derivative of Vitamin A. Still a cocktail, but not nearly as bad. I may or may not still lose my hair, but whatever.
So here I sit in the hospital for the next four weeks hoping that it all works and my recovery is healthy. I have a pretty good mindset that it will all work out. I've got way too much to do out there to call it quits yet.
I just wanted to let everyone know what's been going on with me. And to those of you who got my rather cryptic emails about going to the hospital, I am not dead yet, but only had some scares along the way in the past few days. Now I am chipper, upbeat, and ready to have my ass kicked a bit so that I can kick ass back and get this beat, and get back out there with everyone.
Wish me luck and I appreciate all the well-wishing's, prayers, and thoughts.
See you soon!
PS... I will be checking my emails as well so that I don't just sit around bored.
(For more on what happens, check my other blog - Leuk I Am Your Cancer
I started with a sore throat when I got to San Diego. What I didn't know was that this was the beginning signs of something more drastic than simply strep throat or pharyngitis (which I had been diagnosed as having).
On Fri., July 29, I had gone to my doctor's for another visit, and a random blood test. I had been hoping to fly to Los Angeles the next day and then come back that night. Friday afternoon, I got a very distressed phone call from my doctor begging me to not get on the airplane in the morning or, I would "not come home, ever". How true that could have been. I was checked into the hospital immediately that Fri. evening and felt myself physically sinking lower. It turned out that I had almost NO white blood cells, NO platelets (that help your blood clot), and was getting anemic And my blood count was dropping by the hour. Literally, I was dying as I stood.
For three days, no one could figure out what was wrong with me. They kept me pumped with antibiotics and transfusions. On Saturday morning, I seriously did not think I would make it through the following Monday. They were worried about my getting a fever, infection, or starting to bleed out. Well, as it happened, I did get a slight fever, and my nose started bleeding for over two days. As I write this, it has slowed down. I was a bit scared, to put it honestly. But worse, I had a few very close friends who were even more traumatized by what they heard. No one could believe that someone like myself, Mr. Get-Up-And-Go, who lived active and overworked, could ever get so sick, and so suddenly.
They took a bone marrow biopsy (no fun stroll in the park, I tell you), and finally found out what happened to me by this Monday, Aug. 1. It turned out that I had Leukemia. But they were not sure what type yet. I was given a 75% chance of recovery - meaning that it could recur, or cause other cancers later. On Tues. Aug. 2, they had it figured out. I have a subset of AML Leukemia called Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia.
Now, here's where the clincher, and the fun part begins. Of course, I would now have a new chapter to my life's adventures. It turns out that I have a form of Leukemia that (as my doctor told me) "If you had to have any form of Leukemia, this would be the one you want to have." It is a very rare type, and happens to be the easiest to treat. AND... has a 90% cure rate (meaning, no coming back). Also, it is not inherited, so I can still have kids later with no fear of transmission... provided I make it through.
They are trying to control my bleeding currently, and I am already being treated. Another strange portion of the story... instead of bombarding me with two or more major forms of chemotherapy, it is treated with ONE chemo drug cocktail (a rather milder form) for eight days, and... a derivative of Vitamin A. Still a cocktail, but not nearly as bad. I may or may not still lose my hair, but whatever.
So here I sit in the hospital for the next four weeks hoping that it all works and my recovery is healthy. I have a pretty good mindset that it will all work out. I've got way too much to do out there to call it quits yet.
I just wanted to let everyone know what's been going on with me. And to those of you who got my rather cryptic emails about going to the hospital, I am not dead yet, but only had some scares along the way in the past few days. Now I am chipper, upbeat, and ready to have my ass kicked a bit so that I can kick ass back and get this beat, and get back out there with everyone.
Wish me luck and I appreciate all the well-wishing's, prayers, and thoughts.
See you soon!
PS... I will be checking my emails as well so that I don't just sit around bored.
(For more on what happens, check my other blog - Leuk I Am Your Cancer