dcnovice
Posts: 37282
Joined: 8/2/2006
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Howdy, folks!
Sorry to be awol. I've been in and out of hospitals the past month. Here's a 4/14 update:
Fellow fans of seaside arcades may smile at the thought of Whac-A-Mole, but the game has never appealed to me. It overwhelms me too quickly, and my tender heart can’t bear clonking even a plastic rodent on the head. I’m particularly unexcited about the way that my medical life seems to have turned into its own version of that boardwalk attraction, with yours truly despairingly flailing the plastic mallet.
For the past decade, I’ve thought it a bit of hard luck to have to cope with both clinical depression and diabetes. Each is a tough foe, steadily draining away the very energy and focus needed to battle this dysfunctional duo. Now, of course, I look back over those ten pitying years and think, “Wow! Who knew those were the good old days?!”
I’m starting to wonder if my body was programmed to self-destruct just short of the half-century mark. About a year or so ago, I noticed while doing Wilson House tours that my left arm tended to go numb between the second and third floors. That led to the discovery that my neck was a hotbed of arthritis and other issues. I embarked on physical therapy and got various treatments from a pain specialist. Things seemed to be on the mend.
That was handy because The Big C soon came along, eclipsing everything else in my medical sky. You know from my previous notes about the quest for an oncology team and the start of my oncology triathlon. I’ve now just about completed the race’s first leg, with 25 radiation treatments (literally) under my belt. The plan was for radiation to yield to a blessed month or two of rest as I sorted out surgery options. But, as E.B. White pointed out, “There’s no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another.”
The “one thing” in my case lately has been, you may recall, a growing tendency toward what I call wobbliness. It’s a hard feeling to describe. It’s not exactly dizziness; the world doesn’t spin. It’s more a sense of fuzziness and fogginess that leaves me feeling unsteady on my feet. Ever since my night of falls on March 19th, my doctors and I have puzzled over what’s going on and how to stop it. So far, this quest has included three stays at Georgetown University Hospital. I’ve spent the bulk of April on campus, or so it feels.
I’m sorry: I know I’m treading old ground. To bring the story forward a bit, my current stay began with a summons (via phone from a GU doc) to come to the emergency room on Saturday, April 6th. As I mentioned in my brief email then, a recent MRI had raised serious concerns about my neck. Long story short, a neurosurgeon operated last week, plucking out damaged bits of my neck and replacing them with a sliver of bone from a cadaver. That last detail leaves me wondering if I’m now entitled, perhaps in some modest way, to think of myself as a zombie. I’ve certainly felt like one lately! Holding my new and hopefully improved neck together are a titanium plate and some screws. So I suppose I could also arguably describe myself as bionic, but that seems passé.
The days since the surgery have been mellow, even dull. I deeply appreciate all the visits, calls, texts, and emails that have broken up the sameness of hospital hours. Many thanks!
Happily, the neurosurgeons have pronounced my surgery a success. The wound drained properly, and the incision seems to be healing neatly. This pleases me, though I wish someone were taking a more holistic look at my entire neck—and self, for that matter. There’s still a spot on my neck where I feel an odd sort of pressure. That spurs me to twitch, a bad habit that annoys my shoulder. And I’m still a bit wobbly on my feet, a situation not helped by the inching invalidism of hospital life. My fingertips remain a bit numb, and my left arm doesn’t cooperate as eagerly as it should. Perhaps time will sort all this out.
Meantime, what’s next? I believe Mother Georgetown is gearing up to release me, perhaps as soon as tomorrow. Given my weakness, the next stop may be a stint at the National Rehabilitation Hospital over near Washington Hospital Center and Children’s. I’ll let you know as I learn more. Till then, warmest thanks for being there!
I did indeed do a week at NRH. The PT sand OT there helped me become more steady and confident on my feet. I'm still using a cane but hoping to shed it soon as I do outpatient PT. I got home yesterday and have really enjoyed being back in my own space.
All the recent attention to my neck has rankled MiMA a bit. She feels strongly that she's my star ailment, after all. And attention will indeed turn back to her as I prepare for leg two of the oncology triathlon--surgery. On May 7th, I will meet a surgeon at Memorial Sloan-Kettering in New York. Depending on how that goes, we'll set a date for MiMA's eviction. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the SK surgeon is more positive about my retaining my sphincter after the operation.
_____________________________
No matter how cynical you become,
it's never enough to keep up.
JANE WAGNER, THE SEARCH FOR SIGNS OF
INTELLIGENT LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE
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I'm a horrific coward when it comes to the dentist.
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