CANCER REVISITED
I have had a pain in my hip that has caused me to progressively limp for the past several weeks. It started about the same time that my friend, JC, so generously loaned me his BMW convertible for a few weeks so I could see how I liked the car. I needed to replace my beloved '98 Jag and was considering the BMW convertible until I found it to be very low and thus too difficult to enter and exit. That plus the clutch led me to believe that I had pulled a muscle. Ah no. An MRI last week indicated that there were lesions (holes in direct parlance!) in my femur and I was at serious risk of fracture. A fracture with myeloma would apparently complicate treatment in ways that I don't fully understand. Consequently I am remaining at home and using crutches to move about, go waterskiing etc.
Tomorrow, Monday, I will receive word from Elizabeth, my oncology fellow, as to when I am to go to Boston and for what purpose; ie: orthopedic evaluation, radiation, surgery or all of it. At the moment I really don't know what will be happening next other than that I will be in Boston for several weeks. In the eloquent summation of one of my closest friends: "Fuck!"
Beyond that, I am okay. Okay does not necessarily mean good or happy. It simply means okay. The mature part of me recognizes that such events are part of the process of having myeloma and are entirely predictable. You may have heard me say that the light at the end of my tunnel is the headlight on the front of a locomotive! I know that the relative normalcy of my life this past year and a half sitting by the river enjoying the sunlight and the breeze or bringing people together at the Community Cook-Outs, or having long cafe lunches with delightful friends, or just bopping around doing errands would come to a halt sometime. What I don't know is if this is the time. And since I don't know if and when I will be able to return to the home and life I love, I have an outraged six-year-old inside of me screaming:"NO! I DON'T WANNA GO! I WANNA STAY HOME!" God, he can be a pain-in-the-ass! So I do all I can to soothe his fears and turn my attention to the beauty that surrounds me, the extraordinary friends that support me, and the brilliant competance of the medical team that works their magic upon my complicated body.
I have had a pain in my hip that has caused me to progressively limp for the past several weeks. It started about the same time that my friend, JC, so generously loaned me his BMW convertible for a few weeks so I could see how I liked the car. I needed to replace my beloved '98 Jag and was considering the BMW convertible until I found it to be very low and thus too difficult to enter and exit. That plus the clutch led me to believe that I had pulled a muscle. Ah no. An MRI last week indicated that there were lesions (holes in direct parlance!) in my femur and I was at serious risk of fracture. A fracture with myeloma would apparently complicate treatment in ways that I don't fully understand. Consequently I am remaining at home and using crutches to move about, go waterskiing etc.
Tomorrow, Monday, I will receive word from Elizabeth, my oncology fellow, as to when I am to go to Boston and for what purpose; ie: orthopedic evaluation, radiation, surgery or all of it. At the moment I really don't know what will be happening next other than that I will be in Boston for several weeks. In the eloquent summation of one of my closest friends: "Fuck!"
Beyond that, I am okay. Okay does not necessarily mean good or happy. It simply means okay. The mature part of me recognizes that such events are part of the process of having myeloma and are entirely predictable. You may have heard me say that the light at the end of my tunnel is the headlight on the front of a locomotive! I know that the relative normalcy of my life this past year and a half sitting by the river enjoying the sunlight and the breeze or bringing people together at the Community Cook-Outs, or having long cafe lunches with delightful friends, or just bopping around doing errands would come to a halt sometime. What I don't know is if this is the time. And since I don't know if and when I will be able to return to the home and life I love, I have an outraged six-year-old inside of me screaming:"NO! I DON'T WANNA GO! I WANNA STAY HOME!" God, he can be a pain-in-the-ass! So I do all I can to soothe his fears and turn my attention to the beauty that surrounds me, the extraordinary friends that support me, and the brilliant competance of the medical team that works their magic upon my complicated body.
