DynoReads

Update Been absent a long while. The cancer came back in the early part of the pandemic. Caught CoVid after the 9th (out of 13) cycles of chemo. This resulted in a nice set of side effects/after effects. In September I had to plan grocery shopping carefully. If I used a cart, I could get all my groceries, get home and crash. My son had to unload the vehicle and put them away. Now I walk the store, load the car, bring the groceries in and put away perishables, then crash.

I was so happy to see another chapter. I really enjoyed reading it!

When my children or grandkids interrupt, I ask if the fire department, police department, electrician, plumber or first aid kit is needed? If not it can wait. Then I wrap up my conversation quickly. Where I teach I also ask if someone is being bullied. Amazing how just acknowledging the child gives him/her the patience to wait.

Baylor Scott & White had donated their Garland facility to the VA. It was supposed to open next year as VA. Then covid hit. Per a coworker who receives medical from VA, the Garland facility is operational.

I know that cattle ranch. I used to live by it. Welcome

CT scan was mostly normal. The tumor marker that had been climbing dropped 10 points. The only thing that doesn’t look good is a small growth in a thyroid nodule. Another medical test. This one doesn’t require fasting or contrast.

With my dyslexic syndrome, I have a whole list of things that were hard: 1. Although I have a great sense of direction, I am not confident in knowing right from left. I used to turn maps upside down so I wouldn’t have to figure out right and left. Hubby solved this for me, we use the military form, 3 o’clock or 9 o’clock. 2. Using a mirror - again the right/left gets me. I gave up on learning to use a curling iron, too many serious burns. Also make-up. I have recently forced my self to learn how to do eyebrows since I resemble a mannequin in a horror movie without eyebrows. 3. Backing a car up. Sometimes this was no problem. Other times I would have to get out and check. At 49 someone told me turn the wheel in the direction you want the back end to go, now baking up is easier. 4. walking - until all the physical therapy I could trip and sprain an ankle over a very small pebble. and the worst one, I CANNOT make cookies. I can make pies, cakes, bread, but not cookies.

Finished chemo on May 23. Had my follow up and all the extra tests. No sign of cancer. My hair is growing back....it did change color - sort of. My hair was very fine before chemo, it’s even finer now. So fine it appears colorless. Hopefully this is short lived. My supervisor at work thought I breezed through chemo, until the last two treatments. I guess I’m good at hiding fatigue, weakness and burning pain. For a while I thought I would have to quit teaching because I would forget the topic in mid-sentence. My students made a game of it, trying to be the first to jog my memory or come up with the word I’m describing. I’m working with a physical/occupational oncology therapist. This is not fun. The therapist says my nerves are a bit mixed up and slow in sending signals. I believe it, the other day the cat clawed me, I couldn’t feel his tail under my foot. For the last month shoes and socks felt like someone was driving nails into my toes. It’s still uncomfortable to wear shoes, but not painful. I still tire easily but I’m getting more energy back. So recovery is slow, but I’m shuffling along and taking frequent breaks.

In most places this would be true. However I teach at a private school founded on six principles, two of which are non-judgemental and do what is right. Neither of those principals leave room for what is going on. At a weekly meeting the head of staff, XXX, addressed gossip about me by confirming that I had a medical issue but preferred to choose when, which and how I share. He directed the staff to not approach me about it. This clearly drew boundaries which most of the 50+ crowd have ignored. This lead to the middle school principal asking me to speak in the staff meeting. I did so, stressing that I didn't want to discuss it, that work was my safe haven from cancer and reminding staff that we are there for the students and that is where I want to focus. One teacher had requested copies of an assignment from one of my students. When I took her the assignment and supplies, Sha said "I know what XXX said in huddle (weekly meeting) but ..." Then began telling me all the horrible side effects she had from chemo. She also had the gall to tell XXX that I approached her. XXX agreed that bringing an assignment wasn't bringing up chemo. She didn't stop there, she kept trying to find ways to be involved indirectly.

Update - I have had several other co-workers approach me. The 50+ crowd, with 2 exceptions, are not being tactful and and when reminded of my preference get condesending with me. The 20-30 crowd asks tactfulky if they can ask questions. Their questions are about chemo, how it's administered, how it works, trying to understand.

I hope you don’t mind me adding one ”That is so schizo/schizophrenic” used to describe some odd, dangerous or antisocial behavior. My mother and youngest sister have paranoid schizophrenia. My stepdaughter has schizophrenia. While odd behaviors do happen, it is not a defin8ng symptom, the delusions are.

Everything I’ve read says be specific, like ask if you can make dinner for them, give them a ride. Don’t take it personal if they overreact, this is overwhelming at times. You know your friends, cancer hasn’t changed their personality, so keep treating them as before. My biggest unmet need was someone to talk about the negative aspects, fear of death, etc. I found a program that links people with my particular cancer with an oncology social worker. Maybe you can find a similar program for your friends.

Reaching for help isn't a sign of weakness, but strength.

Going through chemo I haven't minded too much the physical changes happening. Well showering when my hair was falling out was a nightmare - very fine hairs that I could feel but not get off. How others are reacting is getting to me. At work I've had to report two cancer survivors to administration. Both tried to offer me support, before I had announced my cancer. One chose to discuss it in the public bathroom where students were present. The other thought it was a great idea to tell me her horrible experience with the IV port on the day I was getting the port, then the day before my first infusion with it. There are also all the people wanting to pat me somewhere. I understand the need to touch. But chemo doesn't just kill cancer and hair follicles. It also kills bone marrow cells, the ones making blood cells. So chemo patients get sick and bruise easily. Now I have complete strangers wanting to give me blessed or annointed religious objects, while I'm on my cell phone.