Happy Shamrock Day!

Happy, happy St. Paddy's Day to everyone. For some reason, every time I think of the word "shamrock" I think of Shamrock Shakes and Grimace in a leprechaun outfit. Some sort of childhood trauma, I'm sure.

First, before I do anything else, a couple of notes:

• I am compiling all the suggestions and information from all your great notes on my recovery plan, and will share what I've come up with once I've got it all kind of put together.
• If I start doing macrame, I will shoot myself, so do not worry, dear auntie.

Just wanted to mention those before I got sidetracked!

Ok, onward. Yesterday was the one-month-post visit with Dr. Mazj, or as it turned out, Roni, his PA. It was actually a very productive, very helpful visit. I'll try and share everything we discussed and sorted out, but it won't be in any sort of order, so you'll have to pardon me if it's rather disorganized!

• I'm cleared to start yoga classes (YAY!!!) as long as I stick with the "Gentle Level 1" and "Gentle & Restorative" classes at first, and as my pain dictates.


• I can start taking my mountains of supplements and vitamins again, which, while I F***ing hate taking all the pills (more than you will ever know my friends...) they might help me on the road to recovery


• My weight gain is, sadly, normal, and most likely radiation's fault. I'm supposed to talk to the radiation oncologist about it on Thursday. It's most likely because of all the liquid I'm retaining, which would make some sense. I've gained somewhere between 5-10 lbs, which fluctuates from day to day, and it's all come on in less than 3 weeks time.


• Now, before you say it Mother...........I did not need to gain this weight, and it NEEDS to go away. See, I went into surgery back in Sept somewhere between 135 and 140 lbs, which was too heavy, and anyone who saw me last August would tell you that was true. After surgery, I dropped all the way down as far as 115, which was too skinny, and anyone who saw me would agree. For a lot of months, my fight was to stay "on the right side of 120" as I put it, meaning above 120, preferably around 125. 125 puts my BMI at the PRECISE right place, and that's what I care about, not the weight number, the BMI number. At 125, I feel good, my clothes fit properly, and my BMI is 22.9. "Normal" is 18.5-24.9. Now, I'm floating between 130 and 137, which puts my BMI at 24.7 (that's calculated at a weight of 135) which is borderline "obese" according to the BMI calculators, and borderline unhealthy in general. I had gotten to a good place, and now I'm in a bad one again!!! In theory, it will go away over time...but I am certainly not happy at all. Pants I wore 2-3 weeks ago are binding around the waist now!
• We spent lots of time talking about my pain and swelling, which are once again...normal.


• They drew blood (I KNEW I wouldn't make it out of there without at least one needle-stick...) for a CBC panel, which came out "great" according to the nurse who called me this morning. I didn't ask what the results were, because I don't know what the scale on that one means anyway. What it means to me is that I'm cleared to have my dental work done Friday, which is what matters to me right now.


• We talked lots about nutrition, and the fact that mine totally sucks right now, and ways to try and correct that....... ways to actually get some food or food-like substances into my body. Apparently, I have to get more food of some sort in me. Blurgh.


• And, of course, we talked lots and lots about my recovery plan and how to get one going. She says it's actually called a survivorship plan and gave me a nice fat booklet from the National Cancer Institute on life after treatment. I haven't finished reading it, but so far it seems it will help. The corresponding booklets for chemo and radiation were great, very helpful, so hopefully this one will be as good. As I mentioned above, I'm compiling everyone's advice, and I will share when I've got it figured out.


• CT scan results came back--so far, so good. There is nothing on them that looks like cancer, which is what we're aiming for. Strangely enough, there does seem to be a lung infection brewing (weirdest part of that is that I had no idea they were scanning as high as my lungs!) so Dr. Mazj is sending me to a pulmonologist, to make sure that whatever it is gets taken care of immediately and aggressively. Funny, I have been having some odd coughing and chest tightening starting lately and getting progressively (but verrrrry slowwwwwly) worse. I just figured it was asthma, but it might be a viral infection, so they want to make sure I'm watched carefully. My immune system still can't take any major illnesses!

So! After all of this, I had a little family meeting with the kids at dinner last night to talk about my recovery and rest needs. It's hard right now for them to understand, because I don't "look sick" to them, so it doesn't make sense that I have to lay around and do nothing for some period of time. And, it's harder than hell for me to tell them no when they come and ask for something. It'll be something simple, like "I can't find the tylenol" in the kitchen cabinet, and I get up for 2 minutes and find it for them. Problem is, that scenario will get repeated about 8 times and I'm perpetually up-down-up-down. Hopefully our talk last night will help, both on their side and on mine, because my own guilt at not helping them or taking so much time for myself is part of the overall problem. I have to work on that part in my own head.

That, perhaps, is the biggest, hardest, most confusing, frustrating, maddening part of the entire equation right now.........................................

The central theme of every bit of advice and direction I get on how to structure my recovery period is to listen to my own body and not do any more than I can handle, stay within my own limits, let my own body dictate the amount of activity I do, listen to my body, listen to my body, listen to my body, and listen to my body.

I am apparently either stone deaf when it comes to listening to my damned body, or it's not saying a hell of a lot!!! Or speaking Esperanto. No matter what, my stupid body isn't telling me what I need to know in definite terms, like "sit down and rest for at least 3-4 hours every day." All it says is "I'm tired," or "Ouch." Obviously, I have some work to do in that area, and so far I haven't found anyone who can really guide me on it.


Well, right now my body is saying "I'm tired," so I'm going to listen to it before it's time for my hair appointment at 2:00. Here's the ultimate in totally unintentional irony--I had no real concept of what day it was going to be when I made my hair appointment. Amber said Tuesday, I said sure. So, I'm going to the salon to get the green streaks REMOVED on St. Patrick's Day. That really is kind of funny...

Off to rest for a while.