From Ann this afternoon: About radiation: In order to make sure that the radiation hits the body in exactly the same place each time it is important to make what the radiologists call a mask. I first lay in a kind of warm bean bag that is packed up tight to my body. Then I am pushed into a position that enables the therapist to line up my chest with the beams representing the radiation. They have small markers along my breastbone which relate to the anticipated aim of radiation. Meanwhile, the bean bag has become cold and hard. It holds me in exactly the same position every time. The therapists place my body in position, and I hold my hands above my head to hold posts in exactly the same position. I am not allowed to move. Each patient has their own mask. For each treatment, the process is the same. And it seems to work. I find it very interesting, the preparation for the radiotherapy. Thanks for following. Ann
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From Ann today: The radiotherapy began on Tuesday. It is a very strange experience. It is like being a fixed point around whom a series of large panels and circular disks revolve. Each panel has its own angle and aims the radiation to a certain point. I feel nothing except some heat at times. I also have no nausea yet. So far, this is a positive experience. It took 4 days this week. The chemotherapy is very different. It involves adding dangerous chemicals to my body. They each have their own purpose. But each is treated as highly dangerous material. The nurse wears a hazmat outfit. None of the chemicals can be spilled. They go by intravenous route straight into me. They arrive in a special bag, and the empty chemical bag is disposed of in that same bag. The dangerous chemicals are left behind in me. There are many risks involved with these chemicals, including how they affect my body. I did not understand them, but it is part of the cure that I agreed to. This onl
From Ann this morning: I have been told today that unless there is a dramatic change of plans I will be transferred to Saint John on Tuesday by ambulance, to arrive to begin my treatment at 8.50 AM. I will then be admitted for the course of this series of treatments before discharge home for the weekend. Ready for 4 more weeks to come. Meanwhile my hemoglobin is just under what it should be. I may be given a little more blood to boost the levels; that will be this weekend. I will update as changes happen. And yes, the nasogastric tube is still in place until the very end. Many thanks for your support, Ann
From Ann this afternoon: Dear friends and relatives, Some of you have noted last week's air of depression; perhaps it is time to share something of how it really is in hospital in NB. I can call for help. The call is answered with, "I will send you someone." Over an hour later, the nurse passes by.. She hears the sound of a machine, etc. in distress. The first comment is, "No one told me." And you can tell from her response to this machine that this is the truth. A second situation is of my own personal experiences. The high fibre feed has disturbed my bowels. One night I managed to make it out of bed. No one responded to my call. Eventually someone came, but it was all down my legs and all over the floor by then. We have individual toilet needs. I am assigned a commode. No one set it up for me. Repeat these things many times a week. There may be 2 or 3 staff to your floor; rarely is there a full complement. Meanwhile the government protests
From Ann this evening: Hello to you all. I was given a pint of blood on April 14th.. I have somehow lost that much over a series of cancer bleeds. It has restored quite a bit that slowly but surely was lost. I could see it going and was depressed about it. In a few short days, my wrinkles have slowly been filled with flesh, my muscles have regained some strength. I can easily climb in and out of bed, can adjust my body in and out of bed, am not as confused as at some times I was. I have regained my feisty persona, I am still in the battle. One request I have, please. Pray that I will keep the nasogastric tube in place for 2 more weeks, and not vomit it out. An item for praise: the fact that lab work can create a whole new pint of blood for me from other blood cells. Rejoice in a whole new perspective on life this weekend because of Easter. Thanks for coming on this painful and difficult trip with us. God bless you all.
Ann's message this morning: I have had the nasogastric tube in for a day. For some reason it seems to sit better in the left side of my nose than the right. While it was out, there were a series of tests, measurements, etc. out of concern for what the tube would restrict. Our team of doctors are very competent and efficient. My one critical comment is that they talk to each other but not to me! Yesterday I was anemic and had low sodium levels, Apparently, cancer will bleed even if not provoked. It also stops bleeding too! I usually write the post of the day in the dawn. It is a beautiful time of day, and I find it very positive for me, even if it is raining or snowing, but always when it is glowing and anticipating a good day to follow. Enjoy this Palm Sunday. Thanks for supporting and following with us. -- Ann, Jack, Janet and David
Ann sent this today: I have a new start date for treatments. I was told today in Saint John that the new date will be after Easter, April 25. The Oncology team is ready to begin. It should take about 23 sessions in the following weeks. excluding weekends and public holidays. I have also learned both on today's Saint John visit and the earlier one that I need to stay in Saint John for the full week. I am a victim of travel sickness and cannot afford to lose another pound of weight. I am currently holding at 104 pounds. The first visit was followed by a day of vomiting - a large price to pay. One day vomiting could lose me 1 to 2 pounds. Today the nurses are holding me together with IV meds. Please pray that I will make it through the next day and night. Thank you all for your support and prayers.
Ann sent the following this evening [Janet is Ann's and Jack's daughter]: Janet said that on the night that I vomited blood, she woke up at 12.30 am. She heard me shouting for help; she said that she heard the fear in my voice. She did not know that it was happening in real time. She was distressed by the fear in my voice. She only put the times together later. Neither of us were on morphine. I found it very affirming, that she was on the same wavelength. Thank you, Janet.
This arrived from Ann today: Last night was more of the night before. This time, it was blood that I vomited. The doctor said that we are dealing with a living cancer. They bleed sometimes. I coped with the pain, nausea, shock with medications. I still had a reasonable night's sleep, and the most fantastic nurse, Stacey, She always seemed to be at the door as I vomited or knocked over the night collection of blood and urine. She already had the medication in her hand. I asked her how she knew, and she said that "I guess I have a sixth sense." She certainly did last night. God had her at the right place and at the right time for me. Thank-you God, and Stacey. Plus, most of the hospital is functioning well below staffing levels. We had 9 staff out sick last week on our wing alone, and at least 3 so far this week. The staff are constantly pushing the whole ball of work uphill, and of course it rolls back down. Today as of lunch, I can drink my fluids again. Each room
Ann sent the following this morning: Sunday night (April 3) I had a huge vomit as response to a very strange mixture of food flavors on the supper tray. I vomited out the gastric tube along with the rest! So, the Saint John group of doctors will take the opportunity to do a test that the tube would have impeded. But we're still in lockdown, so not easily arranged. It is postponed to Thursday at 8.30 am. Result: no gastric tube for at least 3 days. Now I have to be prepared with everyday food extras, in case the kitchen tray is not working and sends too little as it did today. Further updates after Thursday's test. For food, I am swallowing through the stent; so far I have even managed whole meds, pills that stuck before and made me vomit. There is a measure of progress in this. Thanks for your support, it is very much appreciated.
Ann sent these today: Every time I use the commode, I unplug my pharmacy-on-wheels and take it all with me. Step by step. These wheels are clean quiet and efficient. I make more noise with the curtains than anything else. The pumps that help keep me fed and alive in here: Pharmacist includes IV foods as well as those administered by nasogastric tube. The colored ones are an equivalent to Boost but with even more nutrients packed in. Product of a shower cap with purpose reversed. A special shower cap is fully soaped on the inside and heated. Then, one covers everything (ears, etc.) and massages it into the scalp. The end product is a head full of wet hair, but a clean head in the end. Quite satisfying for an otherwise dull Saturday morning.
Ann wrote this today: 3 things happened in close succession that need to be carefully teased apart. 1) I had a stent inserted at 2:50 PM on March 29th. This involved a fairly heavy sedative for relaxation and to help me to co-operate. Xray followed at 10:30 PM in my bedroom. 2) A night of confusion and disorientation 3) Mixed up messages or non-existent messages from the night of confusion. 4) Very little progress made. 1) The intention of the stent is to move food off of the cancer walls. In that sense, it was a success. 2) Confusion, disorientation and a very disturbed night My expectations were that the nasogastric tube would be removed - no. That I would begin to eat - no. That the doctors had already been discussing my next step plan - no. That I would sleep well - no. 3) I spent much of the night in a confused tangle, memories based on nothing but my own hopes, probably because of too much Morphine, forgotten real messages about the true situation concerning