Will I Ever Feel Better Again?..........

1/23/13--Wednesday--Day 102--"I'm going to get better.  I trust God."

It is now 38 days after the first surgery, which I felt fine after and was back to work three days later.  It's 16 days after the second surgery, which was really big and hurt, but I was walking 1.5 miles at a fast pace four days later.  But 11 days after the third surgery, I feel worse than I ever have in my life.  If only the bowel hernia hadn't happened, I think I would be well on the road to recovery.  Instead, I truly feel just horrible.

Movement and recovery has been incredibly slow.  The best comparison I can give is it feels like the worst flu you've ever had, but without the ache.  My head is cloudy and groggy, even though I'm not taking pain pills.  I don't really feel like doing anything--hence, there have been no blog updates.  I don't have a specific pain, so I don't take pain pills.  You wouldn't take a pain pill when you have the flu.  My stomach and bowels are very, very, very angry so the best relief is laying in the recliner couch stretched out--thank goodness we bought these electric reclining couches in October.  My insides gurgle and growl and the core of my body is so sore that movement is just exhausting.  One day the pains contracted and intensified just like labor pains and I did end up taking a pain pill.  It was seven days after surgery and I hadn't had much of a bowel movement since the surgery so I took a laxative, which the doctors said I might need to.  That night, what felt as intense as a contractions hit and for about 30 to 45 seconds, I would have to breath through the intense pain as my intestines or bowels or stomach or something contracted.  I even had lower back pain contractions--it was ridiculous.  Thank goodness within about 10 hours of the most miserable night of my life, everything started emptying out, but my intestines and bowels remained sensitive, contracting, and angry for the next 15 hours.  I still felt better getting all of that crap out of me though.

I have been chilling and going through freezing spells since I came home.  That is likely due to the three shots a day of Hepburn Greg gives me.  Staying in a jacket and under an electric blanket topped with two additional thick blankets still sometimes doesn't cut the chill.  A couple of days ago I got so cold, even though I was under all three of my blankets, I asked Greg to come blow dry my feet.  He kindly obliged.  The heat hitting my feet instantly made goosebumps bubble up my spine and fill my body, which brought me to tears as my feet seemed to be the thermostate for the rest of my body.  After four or five minutes with the blow dryer, Greg decided to bring in his space heater and set it on high pointed right at my feet and up my blankets.  It ran full blast for three hours before I warmed up.  Finally I was warm.  As I started removing the blankets, Greg said I looked flush.  After being out of the blankets for almost an hour, I felt just awful once again.  I started crying feeling completely hopeless.  I decided to take my temperature.  It was 102.5.  I took a couple of Advil, which did nothing.  After talking to Diane, our friend who is a nurse, we called the doctor.  Dr. Byrum didn't like that high of a fever, but she also didn't want me to go to emergency if we could help it.  I had no other signs--no unusually swelling, bleeding, puss, nothing.  With all the sickness in the ER's, she was afraid I would catch something after spending six or seven hours there.  They would probably want to run a CAT scan and send it to her.  She recommend I try a pain pill or Tylenol and see if we could control the fever, get a good night's sleep, then head to the cancer center in Mesa in the morning if I wasn't better.  That way they could do lab work and tests there without me being exposed to all the sickness.  I took a pain pill at 9:15 and by 1AM the fever finally broke and hasn't returned since.  I felt better the next day.  Maybe my body just needed to fight something using the fever and my body won, who knows.

Yesterday morning after the night of the fever, I did start this absurd leaking.  It feels like when your water breaks when your pregnant.  You go to the bathroom, and as soon as you wipe, stand up and move, all this wetness comes out again and there is nothing you can do about it.  So after soaking through three pairs of sweats trying to use panty liners, I finally just had to just use a wash cloth, just like I did when my water broke with Brooklyn.  I'm not sure if the liquid is coming from my bladder or my vagina but nothing is bloody or smelling.  When I called Melissa, she thought it might just be some of the fluids from all of the surgeries finally finding a path of least resistance in which to escape, which is a good thing.  She did talk with Dr. Matt who now wants to see me to double check during my Thursday follow-up appointments so that is probably best.  Since then, Greg was wonderful and found gigantic maxi-pads which seem to be working to win the battle of containment.

When I first came home, I only had one pair of sweats I could wear.  I was so bloated and any pressure on my belly hurt so the only pair of sweats I owned that didn't have elastic was my only attire.  Thank goodness for good friends.  Carol found me a few more sweats with no elastic just in time for the leaking phase.  That has been a life-saver.

The doctor was worried I hadn't been walking enough.  I had been making laps in the house from the living room, down the hall into the back room, around the pool table, through Greg's office, the weight room, around the dining room table and back to the living room.  I was up to about six laps before the cramps would start.  Greg said that was about 70 feet per lap.  When the doctor said that wasn't enough, I decided to venture outside.  Yesterday I took a half mile walk two different times during the day.  Poor Sierra, my dog.  She is so excited to go because when I used to walk for exercise, she loved coming.  This time she would walk as slow as she possibly could to stay with me and still have to wait for me.  "Are we really going to walk this slow?" was what darted out of her eyes every time she stopped to wait for me to catch up.  But she happily wagged her tail and stood by my side.

Last night we repeated the whole angry bowel thing again, even though I didn't take a laxative, so I experienced the second worse night so far.  Poor Greg has to help me out of bed each time so I feel so badly having to wake him up, but he gladly helps.  So by morning I was diarrhea drained once more and feeling completely lethargic.  I had some oatmeal and Gatorade trying to replenish my nutrients and not become dehydrated, then felt so yucky I laid in the recliner and slept under my cozy blankets for a couple of hours.  Even though I didn't want to, when I woke up, I forced myself outside to walk.  This time Sierra and I did 1.08 miles.  I have to hold my side with every step so tomorrow I'm going to ask the doctor for an abdominal binder in hopes it will help me hurt less when I walk and I'll be able to walk more.

I have been keeping up on work and personal e-mails.  Those have been little shining moments of interaction, but honestly I don't feel like doing much more than that.  If I felt just 10% better I would be asking Dr. T if I could work from home, but I'm just not ready.  Carol's done an outstanding job stopping by or calling after work a couple of days and talking work stuff, which has made for a great diversion, but not too much.  I'm not a TV watcher so I haven't turned on the TV at all except at night when Greg and I watch some of our recorded shows.  I can't even imagine surfing through daytime TV garbage.  I am hoping my mind will clear up enough to want to read.  I have several books people have given me I want to read or study, but I'm not really even ready for that.  Hopefully that will come soon.

Everyone has been really helpful and supportive, and I feel so blessed and grateful, despite my negative physical feelings.  Sue Bonefas has been coordinating food for us, thank goodness.  I have absolutely no appetite.  In fact, eating and night times are my most dreaded activities.  But I know eating nutritiously will make all the difference in the world so I have forced myself to eat and having good healthy meals has been a God-send.

When we first arrived home, love poured from the house.  My team left me a wonderful banner across my front window.  My neighbors Kristi and Gayrene had a poster and streamers on the door and a gift bag of goodies inside.  Susie Case and Carole Brady decorated the living room with streamers and presents and Brooklyn decorated upstairs with streamers.  It was amazing and made me smile after a very long and difficult trip home.  Again, I feel so blessed.

And the cards have continued to help me smile and stay as positive as possible.  When I first came home, there were three cards that had come in the mail and were waiting on the counter.   I purposely decided to wait to open them knowing I might need them more in a few days.  After being home a few days, anger started building up inside of me.  If that stupid bowel hernia hadn't happened, I could walk without hurting so much.  How unfair was all of this!  This recovery was so hard and so big and all for what, so I could do chemo!  Stupid cancer.  It's really hard to hurt this much and not get down, especially when you know you're getting better just to face the huge mountain of chemo.  Plus, when you are an A-type personality and are used to being not only busy, but independent, and now you can't even wipe without help, it is very frustrating.  So one morning when I was particularly feeling the "poor me's", I took the three cards to my recliner and laid back.  The first was great.  It was from one of my former yearbook editors who has been so supportive with cards and kind words.  The second was a singing card that made me smile from Peggy, my best friend who now lives in Montana.  The third I didn't recognize the return label, but figured it was one of our Phoenix group of friends.  I opened it and almost cried.  It was from my new friend Pam in the imaging center at MD Anderson.  It was the Footprints card with the kindest message.  And in the card she had tucked a small prayer card with a pin on the top, you know the ones like with crosses or praying hands.  Well this pin spoke directly to my heart and soul and sent goosebumps all over my body.  In chunky gold block letters was the simple word TRUST.  Tears filled my eyes as goosebumps covered my body and I realized, in all my self-pity over the last few days, I had forgotten to TRUST God.  He will take care of me.  He will stay by me.  He will help me as I get through this.  All I need to do is TRUST Him.

So today when I woke from my horrible night, I simply repeated over and over, "I'm going to get better.  I trust God."  And as I slowly made my way back to my house hurting on the last leg of my walk, I repeated over and over, "I'm going to get better.  I trust God."  This is the hardest thing I've ever done,.  My emotions seem to be a wreck and at this point, I don't have any way of knowing if my chemo path is going to be easier, the same or harder, but thank goodness Pam sent me a small gold pin that will help me remember, no matter how painful things get, "I'm going to get better.  I trust God."