Alrighty- so, I've been keeping my head down nice and low, taking my prednisone like a BOSS, getting X-rays like my ass works for Mme. Curie, and here's what I now know: I am indeed a delicate creature.
That's right. DELICATE CREATURE. (A term coined by none other than Anthony Maroudas.)
And here's why- thanks to the year-long use of steroids, according to some dude named Paul Farris, I have "multilevel thoracic and upper lumbar degenerative changes." Paul also goes on to state that "faint residual left lower lung zone opacity persists; significant interval improvement; right hemothorax clear." Thanks, Paul. Way to keep it professional...
Good Dr. George Pappas also sent me a letter by mail- (really, George? I thought we were friends....) informing me that I have low bone mass and that I am to take calcium and vitamin D.
What I don't know is what exactly all of this means.
Ok, I know what opacity means- I do wear tights, after all. So, I just applied that concept to my lungs. Some gunk is still in there that makes them unclear. However, the fashion bug in me keeps seeing my left lower lung zone swathed in purple tights...Don't ask me why.
And low bone density- well that has me stumped. Truly. I mean I know what all the words, strung together mean. But, what I don't know is how low is low? And does this mean that my spine will look like Swiss cheese in a couple of years? If that's a possibility, then DANG! I really like my spine and being able to walk, and shit like that. So I'd really like to keep that going for as long as possible. However, I keep having these images of me all hunched over, wearing awful Velcro shoes, pushing a walker, while wearing polyester pants with an elastic waistband. I mean, Christian Louboutin isn't known for making kitten heels...
Of course, this is me just being all paranoid. However, I will continue to swear by the fact that I enjoy looking nice. And cancer, cancer treatment, recovery, etc has been a major challenge and threat to that which matters to me greatest: that I look nice. I mean, dang! My hair is starting to grow back- and with a major attitude, I might add- like some vendetta seeking Sicilian...WTH???
And, well where would I be without my friends? That's right- if it weren't for my friend Fabrizio, who shouted, demanded, insisted (that's how the Italians talk...) that I get a bone density scan, I would have no clue what's going on. So, thanks Fabrizio. You deserve a huge hug and kiss.
Also, Fabrizio insisted that I get an endocrinologist on the team. Why? Well, the prednisone shut down my adrenal glands (Google it.) And they didn't come back online the last time I was taken off of steroids. This poses a huge problem, as at that time I was sleeping about 16 - 17 hours a day, drooling like a total bleary-eyed spazz, and just really doing everything in my power to keep one foot in front of the other. And well, we know how that ended up working out for me.
So, I chatted George up at our last meeting. And, you gotta love the doctor who is so humble that he actually slapped his forehead in that "Oh, I should have had a V-8" fashion and said: "Of course. I know just the right person for you to work with." So, he hooked me up with Dr. Frances Broyles, with whom I had the most interesting phone conversation. Dr. Broyles will step in once I taper down to 10 MGS of steroids. Then she will bring in her roots, berries and other potions to cast her magic spell on me- all in an attempt to get me to better health.
And that's that.
On a related note, this week I met a very, very interesting woman. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. Decided to undergo a lumpectomy, but turned down the recommended chemo and radiation. Her reasons were that the outcomes for her diagnosis just didn't outweigh the crappy side effects of treatment. She figures she's got another 7 - 10 years of good living and, well if it's her time, then it's her time. She plans to monitor things and will make adjustments as she see fits.
And in many ways, I envy her. While I truly disagree with her decision, I do really envy her. As I reflected on my own cancer and path towards recovery, I honestly asked myself if I would be brave enough to make that choice- turn it all down and walk way? And while I realize just how different breast cancer is from Hodgkin's Lymphoma, still I can't help but wonder.
Now, look- I decided to seek treatment, damn the consequences, because of my kids. And, yes I hate the fact that I am still dealing with so much crap from the treatment. But last night, when both of my boys climbed into bed to snuggle in for their nightly ritual, I thought to myself, "Self, this shit was totally worthy it."
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