Saturday, October 27 – Dreaming of my ancestors

For two nights in a row now I have dreamt of family.   Thursday night I had vignettes of various scenes of my family and extended family celebrating various occasions. It started with all my family, and when I say all I mean ALL, celebrating my younger cousin and his new bride. It was around a first home search/purchase or something like that. We ended up with dinner at a restaurant. We were all in a private room in the back. All of us sitting around a huge table, talking, sharing, and laughing. Having a wonderful time, and I realized that my now deceased maternal grandparents were watching over us, happy, with a sense of “Look what we have created” accomplishment.  It brought me a feeling of ease knowing my deceased grandparents were watching over us.

I went through several other scenes with family, bonding, loving, sharing. I don’t remember much, just the wonderful feeling of togetherness. The last vignette was with my sister/cousin, her boys, husband and mom (my aunt). My uncle passed away years ago from malignant melanoma. My uncle was a republican. One of Deda’s sons was extolling to us the virtues of being a republican – fiscal responsibility, 2nd amendment rights, smaller government… and so on. Then  he told us that all men are republicans and all women are democrats and that is why men and women do not understand each other.  He then announced that when he grows up he is going to be a Democrat!  We all clearly heard my deceased uncle say at that point “over my dead body!” And then he (my uncle) laughed. We laughed as well. This is when I woke up giggling.  Nice way to wake up!

Last night I specifically dreamt of only my father’s family.  I had vignettes of family talking, drinking and laughing all over various areas of the San Francisco Bay Area.  I ended at my great grandparents house, but not one I remember.  This house was at the top of a hill that I could not tell you where in The City, but it was a typical turn of the century single family home – tall and skinny, one abutted to another, the whole length of the street.  The front doors on the second level with stairs up from street level.  Only the stairs up to my great grandparents home we’re narrow and steep with a very low wrought iron railing. My brother called me while I was climbing those stairs, joking and teasing me all the way up. I woke as my great aunt was taking me in to see my great grandparents.

Am I dreaming of my family past and present because I find family a balm to my soul. My family brings me peace, love, compassion, and harmony.  I feel safe and more whole when I am surrounded by my family, amid the chaos, laughter, tears, and yelling, I will gladly sit and watch all this happen around me as it fills my heart and soul.  But why my past family?  Why the family that has already passed?  I know some of my antecedents watch over me, help guide me, keep me safe. Is this why they are in my dreams right now?  Helping me to find my joy again?  Or are they here to help me accept something else in my life?  I’m not sure, but having the dreams the past two nights has been an easing of my stress, a balm to my soul, and some healing to my heart.

Life is accepting life as it is everyday

Friday, October 19 – Dr. R

I met the psychiatrist.  After what seemed like long day of trying to be happy, smiling and keeping my tears in check while I went out to “play”, the 40 minutes spent with Dr. R were a tear filled session of him alternating from furiously writing, to long pauses where I think he had no clue how to recap what I had just spewed unintelligibly from my emotion driven mouth.

Thursday started out with an appointment at Helen’s Room, which is a completely free place to get wigs, hats, scarves and some directions on how to make yourself look better while going through cancer treatment.  Because I had no interest in wearing a wig, and knit & crochet, and I have a ton of scarves, I never felt the need to make an appointment at Helen’s Room to partake of this service.   Monica, the director of Helen’s Room, and my friend Linda convinced me that this might be fun to try, even though I am done with treatment.  I am going back to work here soon; some more hair may give a psychological boost.

Hence, I tried on wigs, and hats, and some scarves, and came away from Helen’s Room with a wig and four new hats.  Since my hair seems to have seriously slowed down on growing back in, maybe having these additions to my headwear options for winter will be a good thing.

From there I went over to Costco to pick up my newly filled Rx’s from my primary care physician.  Since I have stopped taking Gabapentin mid-day, I am really noticing more irritation and pain in my hands and feet later in the afternoons now, so I do my best to not overdue walking and standing.  Costco was not too bad, but there was a mix-up on the prescriptions, so I chose to bid my time grabbing a bowl of chili from the Costco Food Court and sitting on a bench there.  After the indicated 40 minutes to rectify the problem, I went back in and got my renewed prescriptions.

After that, I headed over to Dr. R’s office.  I checked in at the front desk and took my seat in the waiting room.  My friend Linda was taking care of her dogs at the vets but reassured me she would be there waiting for me when I was done so I wouldn’t have to do this alone.  Dr. R was running just a few minutes late.  He finally came and got me, and we went back to his office and he told me to have a seat anywhere I felt comfortable.  Of course, the chair I chose was well broken in and I sank down at least 6 inches after sitting into the cushion.  Even though I had gone in on Tuesday and filled out bazillion pages of new patient forms, answering some very personal questions as well as providing a complete medical history, he asked me why I was there.  I hate when doctors do that.  You have to fill out everything about you down to what your choice in underwear is and then they never read it.  Why?  Why do I have to spend 40 minutes or more filling out your patient history questionnaire, giving you detailed information in writing about my personal history, and then you do not even look at it.  I could not even see any of those pages I poured over on Tuesday afternoon in the file he had started for my case.

So I started at what I thought should be the beginning, I have neuropathy from chemo.  I have been taking Gabapentin, but realized a few weeks ago when I accidently missed a dose mid-afternoon, that yes it is providing me some relief from the pain/irritation, but it is also making me very tired.  When I saw my oncologist the following week I explained to her how I was now trying to decide which was worse, the irritation or being that tired.  She said we could wean me off the Gabapentin and put me on Lyrica instead.  She also said that because we were transitioning into psychotropic drugs she wanted me to go to a psychiatrist to manage these meds in conjunction with all my other medications.  She said a psychiatrist would be much better at getting me the right amount of relief with the correct medication than she would.  I explained how the insurance company has denied the Lyrica, and I am still taking the Gabapentin.  I also explained to him how I have been on Paxil for about three years now, and I am trying to lose weight, it is not coming off and Dr. Levee thinks the Paxil may be contributing to my inability to lose weight.

Dr. R kept a stern look on his face during this recitation.  He asked me if I was still taking the Gabapentin, and I acknowledge yes, I am still taking it, as I have nothing to replace it at this point.  He said I should continue to take the Gabapentin for the neuropathy.  I was all, wait, this is making me tired, this is why I want off the Gabapentin.  He said Lyrica is out it is not good.  He then asked me my medical history, again, why?  I answered all his questions, why was I put on Paxil, answered that, and then we were loath to take me off it with the cancer diagnosis last year.  In addition, I told him about the depression, and Dr. Levee thinking Wellbutrin instead, but would defer to him to manage this to get me off the Paxil.  He asked me why I thought I was depressed.  By this point, I was so frustrated the tears were already trying to escape my eyes.  I was tired and me feet were starting to hurt; I now get sharp pains that start shooting down my toes and across the arch of my foot in the afternoon.  So there I am trying to find a new way to manage my neuropathy with a doctor who is supposed to specialize in this and now I’m being drilled on my cancer, which is a huge trigger for me, I am tired and my fingers are on fire and my feet hurt.  I have lost my joy and this quack is asking me why I think I am depressed.  There was no stopping the sobbing now.  I swear he looked at me as if I was trying his patience.  He was certainly trying mine.

He made me walk him through the past year.  My diagnosis, chemo, surgery, and radiation.  Then he asked me about the pathology report from surgery – were my lymph nodes clear?  Yes, four nodes were removed and all showed clear.  He told me I should just think about that.  No shit, Sherlock!  I write a list of everything I am grateful for every night, hoping that one night, writing that list will not make me cry.  One of these nights, going over everything I am grateful for will bring me joy again instead of tears.  Then he asks me why I am so sad?  OMG?!?!?!  Really?  If I knew this I would not be sad now, would I?  Once more tears of frustration streamed down my face because this man is telling me all the things I already know.

After what felt like hours of grueling questions and statements, he finally looked up at me, smiled and said we can try Cymbalta.  I can take Cymbalta in the mornings, and start weaning myself off the Paxil.  I am to continue the Gabapentin for now, until we determine if the Cymbalta will be effective.  He said we can figure this out and I will get through this.  He made a statement that I cried enough for the next week so no more tears and only think of happy things.  Can I just roll my eyes now?  I told him I am aware of this, and I am not looking to him to medicate my sad away, but I am looking to him to help control my neuropathy symptoms so I have one less thing I have to deal with in my recovery.  He had me get on the scale so we could get a base weight to see how I react to Cymbalta and I am to go back in two weeks after I have weaned off the Paxil.  At this point, I am still not sure how I feel about Dr. R, but it can only get better from here, right?  I was emotionally exhausted after that encounter.

Linda was true to her word and was waiting for me in the lobby.  I walked into her arms and sobbed a few minutes on her shoulder.  We decided to go over to the pier and look at the water while I unwound from that first encounter with the psychiatrist.  We talked about my new wig, laughed over a few things and I was able to get my equilibrium back.  Linda headed off for a class and I headed back to Costco to fill the new Rx from Dr. R.

I was back at the gym again this morning for some weight resistance work and then a nice swim.  My waterproof MP3 player conked out 1/3 of the way into my swim.  Guess I now know how long the battery charge lasts.

I am trying to figure out what I find joyful.  I used to find joy in all sorts of simple little pleasures.  Now it all seems meh.  I am trying hard to find my joy.  I went to a lecture at CSC after the gym today and from there stopped at the store to pick up more herbs for my water.  I also stopped at AAA to get my permanent Handicap Placard.  I asked Dr. Levee to renew my temporary placard for now, but she said this needed to be permanent, not temporary.  So I did that too.  Now I am exhausted.  I think it is a holdover from yesterday’s encounter.

Life is working all the tools

Wednesday, October 17 – Where is the joy…

I know it has been a few weeks.  I have been hiding.  Hiding from all sorts of things, hiding from myself the most.  I really do not recommend cancer to anyone as an adventure to try.  It really sucks!  What no one warned me about was the depression at the end.  I have had moments in my life where I have had a lot of bad, and felt lost and lonely, but I do not ever remember having a constant feeling of grief, fear, anger, frustration, and utter sadness for so long.  I have had times that have brought me to tears, but then I have always been able to find my tools and work my way back to joy.  I am hiding because I struggle to find my joy right now.  In addition, I feel guilty because I have lost it.

I feel guilty because I should be celebrating now.  I am officially seven weeks cancer free.  Seven weeks done with cancer treatments. Seven weeks into my new normal. Seven long weeks into healing, and all I want to do is cry, rant, scream and hide in the dark until my joy comes back and I can celebrate life again.  I know hiding in the dark, burying myself in senseless, mindless, numbing acts will not get me back to my joy, but it is oh so tempting.  Therefore, I have allowed myself to semi-hide.  To not worry about facing certain things that I want to do, but the effort to do them is overwhelming, like write on my blog, or track my daily caloric intake, check my yahoo email (that is my junk email account and it is now 1000’s deep…).  I am good at hiding when I do not know the answer to something.  I walk away from it and let it noodle in my brain until I figure it out.  However, I cannot walk away from life.

I have continued to swim and lift weights at least three times a week.  I have been trying to watch my eating, avoiding simple carbs and bad fats as much as possible, as I now know which foods are better for me, and which I need to limit.  I see the physical therapist weekly and do the exercises and stretches she instructs me to do to keep my shoulder from immobilizing.  In addition, I have continued to get a massage every other week.

We went to a wedding in Spokane, and explored Coeur D’Alene, Idaho.  I even danced a little bit at the wedding.  I let Robert do the drinking this time and became the designated driver.   We did an overnight run up to my parent’s house to retrieve all the extra flooring they had so we could store it here and have it on hand when we are ready to remodel the kitchen.  I continue to go to Support Group every week, despite wanting to have a major meltdown.  I went to “Girl’s Night Out” fundraising event at the Comedy and Magic Club for Cancer Support Community Breast Cancer Awareness month and won restaurant gift cards, dancing lessons at the Fred Astaire Dance Studios, and I started seeing a therapist to help me find, or re-find, tools to help me with this depression.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am forcing myself to not hide, as much as I want to just curl up in a ball and yell at the world to just leave me alone, but I have allowed a little hiding to calm myself.  I had my follow up with Dr. Sikaria (Oncologist).  Just as I knew it would be, my MRI and blood work came back all good.  No cancer markers elevated and nothing on the MRI.  Yet, I wanted to cry, and did cry.  I am not hiding the fact that I am struggling with depression.  I told her everything.  I also told her that while we were on our mini-vacation to Spokane I forgot to take the Gabapentin one afternoon.  The alarm to remind me to take it went off, we were right in the middle of something, I figured I would take it as soon as we were done, and just forgot.  Like most everything else, unless I write it down and set a reminder on my watch or phone.  Later in the day, I noticed my hands and feet were bothering me more than usual, and that was when I realized I had forgotten to take the mid-day dose.  However, I also noted I was not as tired.  Thus, I stopped taking the mid-day dose.  Conversely, my hands and feet do bother me more.  Dr. Sikaria told me many things that check up.  1. Chemo is a depressant; it takes months and months (and then some more months) to completely leave your body.  2. Radiation is also a depressant (see number one).  3. Now that we know Gabapentin is making me tired, we can try something else.  There are many drugs that can be used to help control the effects of neuropathy that will not make me tired.  4. Depression after going through what I have been through is normal.  It is very normal, so normal I should not be worried about it.  I am normal.  5. Going back to work now could help; it would provide me with a set schedule and responsibilities, rather than trying to set myself my own new normal, having external factors to be responsible too can assist in setting that new normal.  As well as help me realize I have not lost all my brains, and I am a contributing member to something, not just to myself.

She wants me to not only switch from Gabapentin to Lyrica, but to also see a Psychiatrist to help with management of psychotropic drugs since that is what our next move will be in the management of the neuropathy.  I have a follow up appointment with her at the end of this month.  She had the new prescription sent to Costco for the Lyrica, but our insurance has denied it.  Dr. Sikaria is appealing the decision.  I am still waiting to find out what happens on that one.

In the meantime, I reached out to our insurance for the referral to a psychiatrist to start that ball rolling.  That only took three weeks to get a response….  I called and was sent a list of 25 providers in the area to call.  I called one, left a message.  No call back.  I called again.  No call back.  I called the next one on the list, left a message, no call back.  I called again.  This time I received a call back two days later that they are not accepting new patients until January at this point, but their other office is accepting new patients now.  I call that office and leave a message, no call back.  I called again and left a message, no call back.  I decided I would try that office one more time, and low and behold, someone actually answered the phone!  They told me to fill out the new patient forms and get them a copy of my insurance card and then they could match me with the correct psychiatrist.  I drove over there and filled out the forms and got them my insurance card.  I now have an appointment scheduled.

I also had my annual physical with Dr. Levee.  She asked how I was doing, and I once again unloaded and cried on yet another of my doctors shoulders.  She assured me it was normal.  I did complain about my inability to lose any weight.  She said the Paxil I was on could be contributing to the weight. I went on Paxil a few years ago to help deal with hot flashes.  Yes, it helps reduce the intensity of hot flashes, but then the whole cancer thing kicked in and we were loath to stop this medication.  Now with the depression that I feel I am wallowing in, stopping Paxil would not be good.  However, we could transition me to something else instead of Paxil that does not have the same weight gain/holding side effect.  She saw the notes from Dr. Sikaria about the psychiatrist and told me to talk to them about the possibility of Wellbutrin instead of Paxil.  It will not help with the neuropathy, but could possibly be taken in conjunction with Lyrica.   She said to make sure I bring up the weight loss with the psychiatrist.  She also signed a DMV application for a permanent handicap placard.  Walking is going to be hard for a long time…

I am still good at hiding.  My therapist (psychological) gave me homework this week.  I am to meditate at least three minutes a day and do something joyful every day.  That is one of my depression problems, I am afraid of joy, and dismiss everything that I used to find joyful as no longer acceptable.  See – hiding.  I downloaded an app to help me set small goals so that I could see some improvement. It is called Fabulous, and you start with simple goals – drink water when you first get up.  Eat a healthy breakfast.  Exercise for 11 minutes.  Three weeks I was doing great, and then it wanted me to add something joyful to accomplishing these simple goals, to create that emotional connection to set the habit.  And wham, I am now hiding from that app.  All my joy is still hiding, and I do not know where or how to find it, so I am hiding.  I am hiding out in the open, forcing myself to face some hard things, and allowing myself to ignore others.

I am working with my boss and HR to set up a return to work schedule.  I am doing everything I can to help me find my joy again.  I write a list of everything I am grateful for every day in hopes that one day that writing that list does not bring me to tears.  I allow myself to cry at support group, to let the tears fall while I sew, or watch TV, while I read, while I shower, but not while I swim or my goggles would just fill up…  I am ready to be done with crying, but I guess it is not done with me yet.

I am trying so hard to be happy that I am alive, that my cancer is now gone, that I had a complete response to chemotherapy, that I am alive!  I am so grateful for my family and friends, my boss, my doctors, my support group, my husband.  So many things in my life are so good, and yes, there go the tears.  Yet again, I am trying to see through tears…  I cannot count on my hands and feet anymore how many times I have cried my contacts right out of my eyes.

My massage therapist told me that even though I feel sad, I am still lovable.  And crying is ok, it helps release all the pent up emotions and inflammation, which once the inflammation is down will help me lose weight.  She reminded me there is light at the end of this tunnel.  She told me to be kind to myself.  So I cry in so many places, and hide out in the open while I desperately search for the tools that will help me get beyond this tear filled angst place I find myself now.

Life is finding my joy