I've just finished the second week of my last semester and must now face a glaring truth: In 17 weeks, if all goes well I will graduate. This event has been 8 years in the making when you include the little cancer hiatus I took from 2007-2010. In 17 weeks if I manage to survive the last 3 classes I will ever have to take as a construction management undergrad, I will be done.
At the moment, I'm currently immersed in the nightmare of every type-A introvert that's ever traipsed through the halls of any learning institution. I'm finally taking the 1 class I've been putting off since my first day of college. Intro to communication studies. There is much emoting expected and the emphasis on class participation is great. I will survive.
There is another class that I must take in order to graduate and until I actually read the syllabus, it didn't occur to me that my grade would depend so heavily on the participation of other students. The class is a semester long group project. I did have the luxury of choosing my group, but that was of little comfort considering I only recognized 2 or 3 students in the class and they were of the variety that I specifically did not want to work with. I tend to remain in a constant state of stress when relying on others for a grade.
Since I can be extremely anal retentive about my grades, my stress level is hovering somewhere in space. I'll get through it. The project will get done. I will graduate.
A side effect of my constant state of stress is a constant state of itchiness. Stress=GvHD for me. Both of my arms are constantly covered in a rash from my wrists to my shoulders. My cheeks are constantly rosy and my scalp is flaking big time. I know that the rashes and itchiness would subside if I could relax. I'm working on it. This is nothing new for me and I've been down this road before. Remember last semester when I thought I was flunking? I finished the semester with a 3.0. I will survive.
The last bit of stress in my life centers upon finding a job. That will have to wait until the next blog post.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
3 little numbers
I've recently come to realize that sets of 3 little numbers hold a great deal of power in my life. 3 little numbers when combined in the right order can occasionally fill me with joy, dread, irritation, or some combination of the three emotions.
985 for my mother.
314 for one of my oldest friends.
408 for my uncle and aunts living too far away.
713 for the place that has owned most of my time over the last 5 years.
At one time, seeing 713 flash across my cell phone screen used to fill me with annoyance and dread. During the early days of learning to live with the snarling bête noir that is cancer, 713 meant another appointment, another hospital stay, more strange news about my condition, another day spent away from home. The sight of 713 conditioned me so that my heart beat a little faster, my hands became less sure, and I stopped whatever I was doing at the time to scramble for my phone.
After 5 years, endless chemotherapy, and 2 transplants, I've come to realize that 713 doesn't have to be the growling beast gnashing its teeth at the end of a too short leash. This past Monday, 713 became routine.
A physician's assistant covering for my regular PA at MD Anderson called to let me know that some of the results from my bone marrow aspiration were available. I don't have cancer. There's no molecular evidence of leukemia. In blood cancer speak: no minimal residual disease.
The flow cytometry is still pending and results won't be in for some time. The PA reassured me that my transplant doctor wasn't concerned since my numbers were all so normal. Normal.
I suppose you can guess how I feel about 713 these days since it is now Wednesday and I've been sitting on these results since Monday afternoon. No anxiety and no accelerated heartbeat. 713 now means business as usual or a friend on the other end of the line.
985 for my mother.
314 for one of my oldest friends.
408 for my uncle and aunts living too far away.
713 for the place that has owned most of my time over the last 5 years.
At one time, seeing 713 flash across my cell phone screen used to fill me with annoyance and dread. During the early days of learning to live with the snarling bête noir that is cancer, 713 meant another appointment, another hospital stay, more strange news about my condition, another day spent away from home. The sight of 713 conditioned me so that my heart beat a little faster, my hands became less sure, and I stopped whatever I was doing at the time to scramble for my phone.
After 5 years, endless chemotherapy, and 2 transplants, I've come to realize that 713 doesn't have to be the growling beast gnashing its teeth at the end of a too short leash. This past Monday, 713 became routine.
A physician's assistant covering for my regular PA at MD Anderson called to let me know that some of the results from my bone marrow aspiration were available. I don't have cancer. There's no molecular evidence of leukemia. In blood cancer speak: no minimal residual disease.
The flow cytometry is still pending and results won't be in for some time. The PA reassured me that my transplant doctor wasn't concerned since my numbers were all so normal. Normal.
I suppose you can guess how I feel about 713 these days since it is now Wednesday and I've been sitting on these results since Monday afternoon. No anxiety and no accelerated heartbeat. 713 now means business as usual or a friend on the other end of the line.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
MDA Recap
I've been trying to write this post since last Thursday, but life and a mild case of writer's block have been conspiring against me. My most recent visit to MD Anderson involved a routine checkup with my transplant doctor and a bone marrow aspiration to be sure that there's no evidence of residual disease. 6 months has elapsed since my marrow has been checked for any lurking leukemia cells and so I was due.
The procedure went off without a hitch, my blood work was normal, and my transplant doctor was happy to send me on my way. As a special treat, I was able to meet with 2 of my twitter friends for lunch. Jody and Jennifer deserve a commendation for infinite patience. My clinic was running 2 hours behind and they had to wait on me for lunch. After a comedy of errors in which I kept pushing the schedule back via text messages, and poor Jody lost her keys, and sweet Jennifer was stuck at the restaurant holding the table during lunch time rush hour all by herself.
I'm afraid I'll have to recap the adventure in another post since my brain is shutting down and this seems to be as good as it's going to get. Before I completely forget, I managed a 3.0 for the semester. I don't know how it happened, but I'm happy to have it.
Here are the numbers for my blood work:
RBC: 4.01 M/UL (4.0-5.50)
WBC: 7.5 K/UL (4.0-11.0)
Hemoglobin: 12.3 G/DL (12.0-16.0)
Platelets: 387 K/UL (140-440)
Absolute neutrophil count: 4.94 K/UL (1.70-7.30)
My liver enzymes are absolutely middle of the road normal
The procedure went off without a hitch, my blood work was normal, and my transplant doctor was happy to send me on my way. As a special treat, I was able to meet with 2 of my twitter friends for lunch. Jody and Jennifer deserve a commendation for infinite patience. My clinic was running 2 hours behind and they had to wait on me for lunch. After a comedy of errors in which I kept pushing the schedule back via text messages, and poor Jody lost her keys, and sweet Jennifer was stuck at the restaurant holding the table during lunch time rush hour all by herself.
I'm afraid I'll have to recap the adventure in another post since my brain is shutting down and this seems to be as good as it's going to get. Before I completely forget, I managed a 3.0 for the semester. I don't know how it happened, but I'm happy to have it.
Here are the numbers for my blood work:
RBC: 4.01 M/UL (4.0-5.50)
WBC: 7.5 K/UL (4.0-11.0)
Hemoglobin: 12.3 G/DL (12.0-16.0)
Platelets: 387 K/UL (140-440)
Absolute neutrophil count: 4.94 K/UL (1.70-7.30)
My liver enzymes are absolutely middle of the road normal
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Shuffling along
I took my last final of the semester this past Thursday and have spent the last 3 days blissfully doing nothing more intellectual than reading some pulp fiction for a book club I've recently joined. The club was started by a friend from high school and its members all live in different states. We communicate via the internet and I must admit that I've been enjoying their pithiness immensely.
Aside from continued pain from the car accident, my health is good. I have a checkup in Houston on Wednesday which will include another bone marrow biopsy. It's routine, so no worries. Monday, I'm going to see my internist about the issues that I continue to have as a result of the car accident.
After a week of radio silence from the claims adjustor, I started leaving messages for him. After 2 weeks of staring at my smashed SUV taking up space in the driveway, I vented about the insurance company in question on twitter. Their twitter representative responded with a phone number and a request that I call. I'm glad I did. She worked some magic and my claims adjustor called me the next day. My car went in for repairs 24 hours later. I'm still waiting for reimbursement from them for the cost of having my car towed from the site of the accident back to my house. It's been almost a month and still nothing.
I'll post the results of the MDA visit Thursday or Friday.
Aside from continued pain from the car accident, my health is good. I have a checkup in Houston on Wednesday which will include another bone marrow biopsy. It's routine, so no worries. Monday, I'm going to see my internist about the issues that I continue to have as a result of the car accident.
After a week of radio silence from the claims adjustor, I started leaving messages for him. After 2 weeks of staring at my smashed SUV taking up space in the driveway, I vented about the insurance company in question on twitter. Their twitter representative responded with a phone number and a request that I call. I'm glad I did. She worked some magic and my claims adjustor called me the next day. My car went in for repairs 24 hours later. I'm still waiting for reimbursement from them for the cost of having my car towed from the site of the accident back to my house. It's been almost a month and still nothing.
I'll post the results of the MDA visit Thursday or Friday.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
DNA wins
After a weekend of dealing with constant discomfort and pain, I decided to give my new internal medicine doctor a call. There is a grinding sensation in my spine and neck. I've had a low level headache since Thursday, the day after the wreck. I've been taking things easy and popping muscle relaxers as directed. Things are not improving.
I was able to get in to see Dr. C.'s nurse practitioner after classes Monday. It just so happens that they've been trying to reach me since Friday. The woman working the front desk didn't update my personal info the last time I was there and so they've been calling my old number.
My cholesterol levels are ridiculously high. I eat well and am moderately active. I have a relatively healthy lifestyle all things considered, and yet my cholesterol level weighed in at 263 mg/dL. The normal range is between 140-200 mg/dL. My near-vegetarian mother has struggled with her cholesterol since I was a child. I come by the problem honestly, and so I can't really complain. Dr. C. has started me on a prescription in the hope that my wayward lipid level can be brought back into line. Just as an aside, my good cholesterol measured at 58 mg/dL, which is higher than average and a saving grace.
As for my spine and neck, Dr. C. prescribed an anti-inflammatory drug in addition to the muscle relaxer. If things haven't improved after two weeks, I have to go back to be reassessed. The headache is a constant bother and makes concentrating in class a terrible chore. I'm hopeful that it resolves soon.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Applied physics
On Wednesday, November 16, I was in a 2 car wreck. The other driver was making a left turn into oncoming traffic without the right of way. My SUV smashed into his front passenger side door. He was at fault and admitted as much.
My car is inoperable. I am in near constant pain. I've seen a doctor who prescribed muscle relaxers. I prefer to avoid painkillers since they're either toxic to my liver or cause me to vomit, which makes everything worse. I can't get into more detail since the case is far from being resolved.
I'll write more about the accident when I'm free to do so.
In the meantime, I hope you all have a very wonderful Thanksgiving. May there be too much of everything that is pleasurable.
My car is inoperable. I am in near constant pain. I've seen a doctor who prescribed muscle relaxers. I prefer to avoid painkillers since they're either toxic to my liver or cause me to vomit, which makes everything worse. I can't get into more detail since the case is far from being resolved.
I'll write more about the accident when I'm free to do so.
In the meantime, I hope you all have a very wonderful Thanksgiving. May there be too much of everything that is pleasurable.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
A little GvHD to go with my chemo brain
It's been five and a half weeks since I last saw my transplant doctor and the rest of the team of specialists who work so hard to ensure I maintain a reasonable quality of life. I've been off of bactrim, valtrex, and v-fend since that last visit and I can feel the difference. These three drugs were taken as a precautionary measure against pneumonia, viruses, and fungal infections. I've managed to avoid catching anything so far, and when you consider the fact that I spend a large part of my day sitting amongst a menagerie of college students, most of whom are just barely out of their teens, that is quite a feat in itself.
The real reason for brining this up is related to another drug that I still take. Tacrolimus is an immunosuppressant drug that keeps my transplanted immune system in line. The anti-fungal I was taking also helped boost my ability to metabolize the tacrolimus, which meant that 1mg was enough to keep my immune system under control, and thus GvHD was a very minor nuisance. I still only take 1mg of tacrolimus and my immune system has started acting like a petulant baby left with a sitter.
The GvHD affecting my skin, mouth, scalp, and eyes has flared up ever so slightly. My skin feels like sandpaper and no amount of moisturizer really helps. I get small rashes, mostly on the lower part of my face. They're easily controlled with cortisone cream and are more annoying than threatening. I've had one mouth sore to date and that went away after a few applications of a steroid mouth rinse. My eyes are a little drier than usual, but honestly, they've been dry since transplant number one. I continue to use restasis drops and that keeps the problem under control.
As for my scalp, well, it's just gross. I constantly look like I'm smuggling artificial snow in my dark locks. My scalp itches sporadically and ferociously. I use a dandruff shampoo that smells like burning tar as well as a prescription topical steroid solution that I'm only supposed to apply every two to three days. I think the new normal for me includes an abundance of flakes of dead skin peppering my dark hair. It definitely beats having cancer, but really?
I've also been taking the new hormone replacement therapy for five and a half weeks. I do not love it. I was taking Prempro, which left me feeling even keeled and emotionally stable, before the whole fertility mystery. Now I'm taking Seasonale and I constantly feel like I have PMS. Poor Chris has been a trooper while I've subjected him to hormonal whiplash. I'm starting to get a handle on it, so I'll stick it out for another month or two in the hope that the compulsive bitchiness disappears. If it doesn't resolve, I'll ask to be put on something else.
There's a month left to my current semester of school and to put things bluntly, my scholastic performance to date has not been stellar. I'm stumbling badly in an estimating class and the very best I can hope for is a C. Truth be told, I will probably repeat the class next semester. As for the other two classes I'm taking, I have Bs in both. I'm a bit of a freak about my grades, so you'll have to excuse my neurosis if a C sounds like a good deal to you. I spend more time than most working on the material and trying to understand the subjects. Chemo brain makes life difficult and so I have to work ten times as hard to do half as well as most people. I no longer do tests well and time constraints only make things worse. In real world applications, I can bore you to tears with what I've learned. Give me a list of questions and an hour to answer them all and I am suddenly struck dumb.
I'll get through it. My professors are great and have been very understanding. One professor who knew me from classes taken before the transplant has been especially fantastic about everything. He makes an extra effort to be sure that I understand how to work things out during class. I've spent quite a few mornings in this professor's office getting extra help on the subject. Chris has been helping me nearly every day with the subject outside of class. You'd think I'd have an A given the amount of effort I've been putting in on top of the extra help I've been getting. It's the class in which I am doing the worst.
The real reason for brining this up is related to another drug that I still take. Tacrolimus is an immunosuppressant drug that keeps my transplanted immune system in line. The anti-fungal I was taking also helped boost my ability to metabolize the tacrolimus, which meant that 1mg was enough to keep my immune system under control, and thus GvHD was a very minor nuisance. I still only take 1mg of tacrolimus and my immune system has started acting like a petulant baby left with a sitter.
The GvHD affecting my skin, mouth, scalp, and eyes has flared up ever so slightly. My skin feels like sandpaper and no amount of moisturizer really helps. I get small rashes, mostly on the lower part of my face. They're easily controlled with cortisone cream and are more annoying than threatening. I've had one mouth sore to date and that went away after a few applications of a steroid mouth rinse. My eyes are a little drier than usual, but honestly, they've been dry since transplant number one. I continue to use restasis drops and that keeps the problem under control.
As for my scalp, well, it's just gross. I constantly look like I'm smuggling artificial snow in my dark locks. My scalp itches sporadically and ferociously. I use a dandruff shampoo that smells like burning tar as well as a prescription topical steroid solution that I'm only supposed to apply every two to three days. I think the new normal for me includes an abundance of flakes of dead skin peppering my dark hair. It definitely beats having cancer, but really?
I've also been taking the new hormone replacement therapy for five and a half weeks. I do not love it. I was taking Prempro, which left me feeling even keeled and emotionally stable, before the whole fertility mystery. Now I'm taking Seasonale and I constantly feel like I have PMS. Poor Chris has been a trooper while I've subjected him to hormonal whiplash. I'm starting to get a handle on it, so I'll stick it out for another month or two in the hope that the compulsive bitchiness disappears. If it doesn't resolve, I'll ask to be put on something else.
There's a month left to my current semester of school and to put things bluntly, my scholastic performance to date has not been stellar. I'm stumbling badly in an estimating class and the very best I can hope for is a C. Truth be told, I will probably repeat the class next semester. As for the other two classes I'm taking, I have Bs in both. I'm a bit of a freak about my grades, so you'll have to excuse my neurosis if a C sounds like a good deal to you. I spend more time than most working on the material and trying to understand the subjects. Chemo brain makes life difficult and so I have to work ten times as hard to do half as well as most people. I no longer do tests well and time constraints only make things worse. In real world applications, I can bore you to tears with what I've learned. Give me a list of questions and an hour to answer them all and I am suddenly struck dumb.
I'll get through it. My professors are great and have been very understanding. One professor who knew me from classes taken before the transplant has been especially fantastic about everything. He makes an extra effort to be sure that I understand how to work things out during class. I've spent quite a few mornings in this professor's office getting extra help on the subject. Chris has been helping me nearly every day with the subject outside of class. You'd think I'd have an A given the amount of effort I've been putting in on top of the extra help I've been getting. It's the class in which I am doing the worst.
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