Mother’s Day was really nice. I was starting to feel good again and being less tired. It was a quiet day filled with the kids playing and my dear husband cooking us food throughout the day. Even had a nice breakfast in bed surprise and felt like Christmas when I got downstairs. This week gauged where I was in relations to pre-cancer. Rightfully, it reminded me when I had to rest.

I was able to enjoy the first part of the week relatively pain free. Then, the lovely phantom pains kicked in followed by more random pains. They are bearable, so, the week continued on relatively normal.

Fatigue was the biggest obstacle, which taken care by frequent naps, was no problem. Otherwise, I was pretty much incoherent by dinner time. (Yes, I did manage some late night communications; how I did it, I don’t recall…)

Blood is still holding steady; always a good sign. Chemo is scheduled for next week and am already feeling the anxiety and excitement. There is also talk of another chemotherapy that’s somewhat the same procedure as a spinal tap. [Future post will tell you all the gory details of my experience with the spinal tap.]

Speaking of incoherent mind, this brain is quickly fading and nervous system is misfiring. It is time for me to sleep the day away…

By now, you are wondering “How? Why?”. Looking back, cancer’s been in me since September 2011. I was constantly tired and not feeling myself at times. I was also starting to ache with arthritis-like pains. We took it as part of recovering from pregnancy #2. Our boy was born in June and figured it wouldn’t last too long; I would get my strength back.

However, it aggressively attacked my bones in January. I finally went to the ER in March after spending the day before Costco shopping. (Yes, folks, I was shopping–full load.) I had spent the week prior doing my usual business, running errands, kids and et al. while taking longer and longer breaks in between them and eventually, gasping for every breath I took to get through the day. It was a Tuesday morning when I called my family and asked if they can come and help me. The hospital was close by, but my Self was done. I no longer wanted to deal with it alone; I could no longer help myself.

Hindsight, my family saw something was seriously wrong. No color to my face. I would stop every few steps to catch my breath and they patiently waited for me while I packed myself for ER. My loving husband had also returned home from work that day, even though I had told him things would be fine. (I’m a lousy liar.) At the hospital, things seemed to quickly spiral down to an even more urgent need to tend to me. One nurse who saw me dubbed me, “Hemoglobin 5.” What she and all of us didn’t know, I was really hemoglobin 3.7. (To give you a better sense of where I was at, normal, healthy people run around 11-14.) I had lost alot of blood. The medical staff had a million questions for me and eventually were baffled as to: 1) How I managed to live my life at 3.7, 2) Where/how was I losing the blood and 3) What was the cause of this???

A blood transfusion got me back to my anemic level and by week’s end, a bone marrow biopsy had revealed the true cause of my illness. Stage IV, aggressive B-cell lymphoma. The suspense was over.

April existed for cancer. It became an almost daily visit to some doctor or perform some procedure prior to my chemotherapy regiment. I wanted April to go away. We hit a snag with one of the procedures, the Spinal tap. Migraine headaches are minor compared to spinal headaches. This also bumped up the chemo treatment early and before I knew it, I was headache-free, start of chemotherapy #1 and delayed port insert. I think I had an out-of-body experience by this point. It was fast lane all over again, but with cancer.

This week was a week never to be forgotten. It’s not 9/11 memorial type, but it’s worth noting that no one should endure this pain.

Personally, I enjoy psychology. Human mind intrigues me. The spinal tap headache, did not. It was a procedure to test for possible brain tumor. I really did not care, only the fact I will have a needle in my spine.

Needle + Spine = Epidural + Baby

The reward here was not as tangible as a baby and I did not feel very compelled to do it. We did it for precautionary steps. Prepare for the worst. The side effects of this procedure was “rare” and headaches would be a minor inconvenience. Unfortunately, my recovery time was too short, which led to this nasty obstacle. It turned out to be a major inconvenience, leaving me bedridden for a few days, hidden away in our darken bedroom. My head hurt a lot. My brain itself felt like a deflated ball, at worst, a swooshing goop of jello slowly draining out of my head. Everything bothered me and, like a migraine, I couldn’t stand the light nor any noise the most. Driving around town was utterly miserable.

My rule of thumb with any sickness befallen to me was to wait 3 days. It should go away in 3 days. I was sadly mistaken. It was 4 days of constant, unimaginable pain. I thought I was going insane. I was told that the brain can only handle one pain at a time with the body. There were more than one pain going on neck up; The skin became uncomfortable, the skull was hurting, brain like jello, the eyes burned to see any light and ears were pounding with pressure.

In the end, I was admitted to the hospital to remedy it. It was a quick procedure. Another needle in the spine, draw blood from a vein, put some blood back into the spine and viola! Headache be gone! The doctor kept asking if I was feeling alright and all I could do was whiplash my head in excitement. Amazing! A drop of my blood fixes psychosis.

Duly noted.