Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Still in the hospital. Day 11 & counting... And one of my fav articles from Divorced Moms (Learning to ask for help)

lizzy hospital.jpg
The Bad News

I'm still in the hospital. Today is Day 11. Also, no discharge date, though I'm told "not tomorrow" but in a few days it is possible. Happy Thanksgiving! I've spend most of November in the hospital so far.

The Good News

We finally discovered that I DO have pneumonia. I had that test where they stick the camera down your throat. I felt nothing. They switch my antibiotics so they are very targeted.

We did the dreaded and painful bone marrow biopsy last Friday. I insisted on local sedation. Oh my it was the best margarita I've ever had. I felt "almost nothing" and that floating restful feeling made the "almost nothing" worth it. Results came back. No myeloma in the biopsy. But there is nothing in my bone marrow. So recovery on my own is becoming impossible, But no myeloma -  WHOOOOOOOHOOOOOO. And they did my markers last week (I didn't even know and I'm glad I didn't because I would have been terrified). The show almost no M-spike. from 3.5 to .01. A fabulous response. 

And my daughters came to visit! We ate together and hung out. I have missed them stupid amounts. 

So...

Today we "infused" (not transplanted) 3 million of my own cells into me and this WILL work! Now we wait for them to reproduce. Please, Lord, let that be soon. I deserve a break, right??? If you're a reader and they praying type, please pray for me.

Divorced Moms - one of my favorite columns to date

We Can't Go It Alone. It's Ok to Ask for (and Accept) Help
by Lizzy Smilez for Divorced Moms

In my prior life (pre-myeloma diagnosis, pre-divorce, and living in San Diego) and was nearly obsessed with portraying my life as fabulous. Great husband (wrong—he was a seriously mean abusive drunk), great job (wrong, I worked way too many hours in a job I hated), beautiful home… And, therefore, in my deepest moments of fear and need, I never for a second thought of asking for …. Help. How could I? I was drowning emotionally and, as organized as I was, I could never make life work quite right.
…And then it all changed in a second. I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a blood cancer, and the house of cards came crashing down. To an extent. For the first time, I no longer pretended to have a perfect family and home. Rob the Great (Alcoholic’s) fishing buddy stopped by the house to check on me and he knew Rob had moved out. “Buddy” was devastated that we were splitting.
“Is there anything that can be done to save your marriage?” he asked. He was literally in tears.
“No. He is an alcoholic. He is mean, abusive and explosive. He is a liar and a sneak and I’m done defending him or helping him preserve his Rob the Great brand. He is not great. He was a monster. He is not a good man."
There. I was starting to be honest—my life was a disaster.
I allowed my parents to drive to San Diego, help me pack up the kids and some clothes and move us and our cat, Princess, into their home in Utah so I could begin treatment. And I accepted their endless help with taking me to appointments, taking care of my children, and everything in between.
But I didn’t want anyone else to know about my health. I told everyone I had a blood disorder and I was going to be JUST FINE. I lost my hair. No one knew because I had great wigs, which actually made me look better than before. I lost weight—a lot of it, like from 138 pounds at diagnosis to 119. I was finally skinny! (actually too thin) I went to great lengths to (again) portray “better than reality.”
Why was that?
Fear that someone might think something negative of me? Fear that people would feel pity? Terrified that in my sick state, that some well-meaning person might say something really tacky and it would rattle my resolve to not die? My need for privacy?

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