Category: My So-Called Life

Yesterday I drove to my appointment

~ susie ~ Leave a comment

I had to go to the hospital and get some x-rays. The parking valet asked how my day was and I confessed that taking the expressway to the hospital made me incredibly anxious. He very calmly explained another way to go to avoid the worst of it, bless him.

I think I’ve shared how anxious I get when I drive now, ever since someone ran a red light and slammed into my car a couple of years ago. I was microdosing ketamine for a while, and that helped a lot. But my doctor withdrew her permission, so oh well.

It was a short visit so I thought I’d give it a shot.

It went okay, but my back was killing me by the time I got home. This morning, everything hurts.

Tales of the broken back

~ susie ~ 5 Comments

Got the results of the MRI of my broken vertebrae. Guess what? I’ve lost 80% of the height in that one. No wonder I’m in so much pain.

So I have to meet with the neurosurgeon ASAP, probably this week, decide on whether it’s unstable (my guess is yes)and make a plan about how to handle it in light of The Tumor. The cancer surgeon wants to operate as soon as we can.

I feel like my head is going to explode.

This week in cancer

~ susie ~ 3 Comments

I switched hospitals. Too tired to go into it all, but I’m glad I did it. Meanwhile, my new team is moving heaven and earth to get me scheduled for back surgery with a neurosurgeon. My only complaint (and you knew I’d have one) is that going here is like entering a large airport and it’s a bit overwhelming. But the quality of care makes up for it.

(Some trivia: The hospital is built on the site of the old Pennsylvania Convention Center, where I graduated high school in 1972. I saw the Who open for Herman’s Hermits here! The Beatles played here on their first American tour. My brother was allowed to go, I wasn’t.)

The new pancreas surgeon is one of the top guys in the country and has done hundreds of Whipple surgeries. It is probably the single most complicated surgery there is, I don’t want a talented amateur at the wheel.

The cancer labyrinth

~ susie ~ 1 Comment

As it turns out, it’s unlikely that I can get surgery because my back is so fucked up. See that third vertebra down, the one that looks like a misshapen Pac Man eating a peanut? That’s what’s left of my L-1.

In the cancer lottery, that means I have most likely won a trip to Radiation Land. I like the radiation oncologist, I just wasn’t expecting to meet him.

America!

~ susie

Last week, the cancer surgeon prescribed Tramadol pain pills for my fractured vertebrae, but the CVS told me they would only give me three weeks’ worth without a prior authorization from the doctor. Is this a CVS thing, or does it happen everywhere?

Anyway, I cut them in half because I’m sensitive to most drugs. Boy, was I right! It was the first time in four months that I wasn’t in constant pain (it even got rid of the arthritis pain in my thumbs) BUT I was high as proverbial kite. Or drone. So I can be pain-free, but won’t have my functional wits about me.

So I decided to cut the halves in half again. (Not easy, because the pills are oval.) They took the edge off the pain, but I still felt woozy. I decided I would not take them today.

But here’s the weird thing. Everything hurts even more without them. It’s only been three days. Are the pills engineered to keep me taking them? I know that happens with oxycontin. Oh well.

Why do I torture myself?

~ susie

I’ve been binging “The West Wing” this week, trying to remind myself of a time when people ran the White House with some sense of honor. Was it really only two years ago?

Unlike some of my friends, I was never a devotee. I mean, I watched it, but I didn’t get upset if I missed a couple of weeks. Now, it’s hard to watch without getting weepy. I just watched the episode where the president rips into a right wing talk radio host by asking if it’s okay if he sells his daughter into slavery, as suggested in Leviticus, or if his mother should be burned alive for wearing mixed fabrics.

And so on.

One of the things I’ve been asking friends is, is there a constitutional way to prosecute Christian nationalists who demand the death of anyone who doesn’t follow their interpretation of biblical law? (You know, like much of the Trump administration.)

So far, no one has come up with anything. But we’re still talking about it.

And now I’m waiting to see if Trump is actually going to surge ICE here in my city, the city where American independence was first codified. I am frightened of what will happen to our citizens, but I’m also curious to see what our citizens do to ICE. Stay tuned.

Recovery or something like it

~ susie

Today is the one-month anniversary of falling down the steps and spraining my back. A week ago, I was feeling so much better –90%, even. The next day, my foot got caught in the hem of some too-long pants and I started falling. Fortunately, I was using a cane so I managed to stay upright — but wrenched my back again. Not as bad as the first time, but not that much better.

And today, after three days of symptoms, I finally put some obvious pieces together and realized I either have a cold, or covid again. A red, weepy eye. A runny nose. A deep chill to my bones. I’ll have to look and see if I have any more tests lying around.

Fun!

I can’t wait

~ susie

Until my back feels better. I mean, obviously it feels better than it did when I first fell down the steps, but there’s still a lot of things I just can’t do. I can’t lift anything, things that would surprise you (like a gallon of milk) with my right hand, that entire side is still a mess.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER!