This morning started early at 7:30 a.m. As I mentioned before, I have so much more energy since we switched up the meds. I also think that I have more pain as well, which prohibits me from sleeping too long without medication. I thought today would be an easy day of radiation and a short test of my gall bladder.
I was wrong. Today was horrible! The pain in my back and hips is getting progressively worse as the day goes on. This is the first time that I have felt the tumor pain in my left hip. As the doctor so bluntly pointed out to me this morning, I have a ton of mets to my femur and Illiac bone. I decided to finally try acupuncture to help with the pain. I believe I need to do a couple of sessions before I feel any difference.
Radiation seemed to take forever today. Probably because I was shifting around the whole time trying to get comfortable. The “bed” was jamming into my back, making it feel as though I was rubbing bone against bone. The techs brought me straight to the Hideaway scan for my next test after radiation. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this test or how it would be executed. When we arrived to the room it looked like the radiation tables. The nurse told me that I would be injected with radioactive material and they would be taking photos through the machine every 60 seconds so I would need to remain perfectly still.
Halt! I just got out of the radiation death bed and now you want me to spend a full hour laying down doing the same thing? I almost had a mental breakdown. I asked the tech to call the nurse to bring any kind of pain medication and sedative they could prescribe. There was no way my back was going to make it strapped down on the hard bed for an hour. Fortunately, they were able to administer me extra Dilaudid, which helped to relax me a little and help with the excrutiating pain that I was feeling from radiation.
The time flew by because I must have fallen asleep. Yeah! When the test was over and I woke feeling relieved that it was over, the tech told me I would be able to leave for an hour to eat lunch and they would be back to get me to do more photos in a shorter version of the scan. The second round was shorter…but still took about a half hour. The most difficult part was that the pain meds were wearing off and I was having a hell of a time just sitting up to get off the table. When I tried to swing my legs around to stand, it felt as though someone had taken a baseball bat to my left side and leg.
I don’t think I have ever felt a deep pain like this before in such an awkward place like the hip and upper leg. It worries me that it is getting worse as time goes on. I mentioned this to the nurse and she was going to have the doc order some X-rays for me. At least then I will know if there are any fractures and hopefully get to the root of the problem…if it is anything besides the cancer pain.
Today has just been a horrible day in general. It is such a mind game when your body is breaking down and staying out of pain becomes the most important task of every breath, second, minute, hour and day. It completely overtakes you and can break a person down. I know I can handle alot of pain…maybe even more than the average person. There comes a point though when enough is enough! Everytime I stand or sit, tears start flowing because it just hurts too much. I keep trying to look toward the end of this tunnel and seeing some light of the situation.
I am not sure if they will be keeping me here again tonight or not. It hasn’t been discussed. I am guessing that I will probably need to stay since they are still administering the IV pain meds and will need to wean me off of them prior to going home. One of my worse pet peeves now is when others ask, "So are you going to be discharged today?” You wouldn’t believe how many times a day someone asks. If I knew the answer, you probably would have known within the first few minutes of the conversation.
Another is, “I hope you feel better.” I understand this is just a nice gesture and all, but does the person asking realize that there is no permanent feeling of being better? Don’t they realize I have a deadly disease…not a standard cold that goes away with some Z-Pack? At this point, I don’t want to feel better or “be happy.” These are all such temporary emotions that can change in a second. All I want is to have pain under control so it is tolerable and manageable. I don’t need to feel “happy,” just content with the current situation.
Link to blog: http://themelissawaller.wordpress.com/2009/07/13/tests/