Today I saw my oncologist and noted to the oncology fellow beforehand, that today was exactly six months to the day from when I left my husband in Hawaii to wrap things up for our move. That feels lightyears away, but today I was feeling hopeful. I've been ready and rather anxious this whole week in anticipation of today's visit. Last night I even made a deal with God. I didn't write it down in a legal contract or anything and I'm not about to tell you what sort of proposal I made, but let's just say that we're both getting a good deal out of that prayer session. I'm spiritual but a bit of a lapsed Christian when it comes to regular church attendance, so I had some ground to make up. Today, I wasn't let down.
Lab wise, I've been in a holding pattern with my values these last few weeks, dancing around with slight variation but not dropping to transfusion levels. So I had high hopes and a mental checklist of questions for today's visit barring no declining values. As of today, it's been almost a month since I had a RBC transfusion and a month and a half (December 16th) since I received a platelet transfusion.
I'm still in a plateau with my blood levels, but a much safer plateau than where I've been previously. I really like my oncologist and he's kind of a TV celebrity, being in Froedtert Cancer Center's ads and all, but today I cut to the point with my questions. I made it known that I'd really like to be with my husband for Valentine's day (first/last one we had together was 2012). I didn't beat around the bush and well it paid off, because I've been cleared for travel!
Asked when I'd like to get the tunneled PICC line out, I kind of jokingly said "today, if possible" and well yeah, that happened too. It was quite the eventful hospital visit, with an appointment with the pulmonary lab for a pentamidine nebulizer sandwiched in the mix, too. That wasn't painful, but the taste from that 15 minute session is something I'm still experiencing about eight hours later. And wow (!), taking out the PICC line was nothing. I was told to take a deep inhale and it was out in a second, never even saw it (not that I really wanted to, either). So for the next few days I just can't: bend at the waist, lift anything heavier than a gallon (sweet excuse), or do any push/pull motions. The nurse made a remark about not doing any yoga and I took that to mean 'crazy', 'twisting' or 'weight-bearing' yoga moves, but in the name of proper healing, I am happy to put it on the back burner for a few days...I've already got physical evidence of improper scar healing that I'd like not to repeat. This sounds like the perfect time to catch up on some overdue Netflix watching.
I'm now super excited to finally be getting back to Hawaii and to start actually acting like someone's wife. What a crazy idea! But at the same time, it's almost kind of bittersweet to be leaving such a great care team at the hospital in two weeks. I mean, it's like Cheers where everyone know my name (or at least my hair)! But it's not so bittersweet that I'm going to stick around any longer than needed. With nothing else is to be said, I'll leave you with a quote from Elizabeth Kubler Ross:
"Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from."