Shwea has joined the family

Ann's dear dog Shwea became very ill and had to be put to sleep on Friday, July 30th. She was with her dear Aunt Mary, Deb and Barb, in her own home. She went very peacefully, she was so weak and tired. She is now with Ann, Linda, Linus and the rest.

'Courage when years become days'

The Rev. Andrea Ayvazian penned a column about Ann's last days, which ran in the Daily Hampshire Gazette on Tues., July 27, 2010.

1559 Pierce Avenue

Ann painted this watercolor of her childhood home, 1559 Pierce Avenue, after which she named this blog.

Remembering Ann Podolske

Here's a seven-minute video of Ann Podolske performing at the Comedy Studio in Harvard Square, Cambridge, Mass. Ann started performing at the Studio in 2005. This clip is from Nov. 15, 2008.

Ann Podolske, We Hardly Knew Ye (1959-2010)

Ann passed away today, June 5, 2010 at noon. She was at peace, surrounded by family and friends.

The visitation will be held on Saturday, June 12, 2010 from 4 to 7 p.m. at Ahearn Funeral Home, 783 Bridge Road, Northampton, Mass.

A celebration of Ann's life will take place on Sunday, June 13, 2010 at 1:30 p.m. at the Haydenville Congregational Church, 143 Main Street, Haydenville, Mass. All are welcome (the Bombshell will be there too!). Refreshments will be served immediately following.

Ann wrote her own obituary, which will appear in the Hampshire Gazette and Springfield Republican at some point in the next few days.

In lieu of flowers, donations in Ann's name can be made to one or more of her favorite organizations: PFLAG or Haydenville Congregational Church.

Jennifer Myszkowski will be posting some of her comedy on YouTube and will post a link here.

xx00,

Ann's family, friends and the Bombshell

she's still hanging on

Friends-

Ann is still hanging on, visiting with friends, but declining. When possible, we read your posts to her and she appreciates them. She is surrounded by friends and family, full of love and support.

When you post a reply, please include your name, since not all have been showing up!

Val

Love to you all: June 1, 2010

It looks as though my kidneys have taken a major turn for the worse, and what looked liked weeks may now be days. Maybe a day.

Yesterday offered such an array of bad news, I don't know where to begin, but the details don't really matter--I'm dying far sooner than I thought. Yesterday the doctors gave me 1-3 days, and I will likely be slowly dying. From kidney disease caused by the multiple myeloma.

Please know I am not afraid of dying. What I am is is sad that I am going to be missing a big chunk of this wonderful, messy, loving and beautiful thing we call life.

To those of you who are friends reading this for the first time after I died, I'm sorry. I've been working on it, but I couldn't help it. Sorry!

Put my obituary today today, so look for it in the Daily Hampshire Gazette in early June, friends.

My friend Val will be updating this re regarding this regarding the funeral and such.

Thank you so much for your support and love over the course of my illness. Love to the nth to you all, Ann and the Bombshell

The timing is good

Happily, my transfusions came to pass today, and I felt a boost afterward that carried me to lunch with Mary afterwards. We went to Bread Euphoria (my second time this week), which is fabulous.

My dear onc was supposed to see me while in the hospital, but he had to reschedule for tomorrow. He did have good news, so I don't mind--they drew blood before the transfusions and the numbers I need up to have some radiation were kind enough to go up!

So, tomorrow I have my first local radiation appointment, and while that's an odd thing to be happy about, I am. My lower back has begun to hurt more than a little, and in my limited experience, radiation reduces tumor pain nicely. The pain patch that was doing the trick is losing some of its power over the pain being generated by the growing tumors, so I'm trying a little of the morphine they prescribed for "break-through" pain (why they need these terms I can't tell you). Anyway, I took some earlier this week and it made me feel loopy and lousy (L&L), even though I shaved the suggested dose down quite a bit. Decided I'd rather hurt a little than feel L&L, you know? But today it hurt enough I tried another, smaller, dose, and I think it's helping. And no loops. (Well, out of the ordinary.)

Speaking of such things, my onc removed a pill from my ridiculously long roster today, which is welcome news. Taking pills seems to take up a lot of my day, so one less down the hatch is welcome.

Well, that's the big news. Hope you've had some good news yourself, and I'll have more coming soon. Hey, you never know. XO, Ann and Shwea

Belated update from a slightly deflated balloon

Sorry I've been on the quiet side, but it reflects what's going on--or not, actually--here. My energy level is still at a very low ebb, and it takes everything I've got just to walk myself out to the car (with a walker, for pity's sake).

This week the walks have just been for medical business, too--blood work at the local hospital and my local onc on Monday, the hospital today.

The tropical temperatures don't help, mind you, for heat saps me on a good day. But still, my get up and go.....

Worst is that today's trip was for naught, for adorable and promising as I think my new onc is, his office didn't order the right type of blood for today's planned transfusions. So, Karen dutifully dragged me up to the hospital, the nurse started my port, and then...we were sent back home. Sigh.

But I had her leave the port accessed, so this will remain a "one-poke" event (a very good thing), and I'm back on the schedule tomorrow at 8. Mary will be taking me this time, bless her. Here's hoping!

Since I don't have much energy, I'm really glad that the French Open is on--always love watching tennis, so I don't feel too bad about being a slug. Am also sooooo glad Linda and I decided to have central air installed when we bought this house, even though we thought it was a bit extravagant. Silly, even. Not this week, eh?

Other highlights this week include another Whopper, courtesy of my new burger-eating buddy from church; the arrival of the HDTV I decided I needed in the back bedroom (handy gal Karen set up the TV and Blue Ray for me; the HDTV cable box arrives next week); the return of Carmella and Barbara (and the pups) today (someone to watch over me makes certain family/friends very, very happy); and the arrival of treats from my cousin Mary and her Glenn (cookies!!) and an enormous array of fruit from sister Beth. (Sounds like a balanced diet to me.)

So I'm a bit pooped, but it may suggest the chemo is doing what it's supposed to, so for this I am grateful. Alas, doing what it is supposed to is a bit rougher business with this particular treatment, so it seems my deflation makes sense. And it's temporary.

Well, I think this is more than enough for one entry! Love to you from me and the incredibly inert blond mass we know as Shwea. xo, A

Accomodation day

When they said they were going to set me up with a comfortable chair at church, they weren't kidding. I sat in a vintage (over 30 years' old) Lazy Boy--with my feet up--at the end of the aisle, with a direct view of Pastor Andrea and the choir.

And I was silly comfy the whole time. How many churches would do that for the likes of me, I ask you? Incredible.

In the afternoon, I was visited by a group of sober friends who held a meeting in my home. I haven't been able to get to meetings for ages, perhaps since Linda got sick, so when this was offered to me I jumped at it. It was just what this gal needed, truly.

Then my cousin Pat, who I haven't spoken to in ages, called, and the day was complete. (Things are looking up for her, and that's the kind of news I can never get too much of.)

That's not all that happened today--Mary came by to tend the Bombshell and made me a sandwich, bless her heart. She also investigated the basement on my behalf, as I have promised not to toddle down there alone.

Last night around midnight, my hot water heater kicked in for a long run--since it's only supposed to run on demand, it was odd that it began running when I was in bed. Mary couldn't find anything, so I'm going to call the plumber to see if it "self cleanses" or some such nonsense on occasion.

Oh well, isn't there always something?

Signing off from a fabulous day, xo, Ann and Shwea

Happy, happy joy, joy! Oh, and silly.

While some days are not so great, some days (or portions thereof) were good. Great, even.

Thursday was a down, down day, but Friday was much, much better. Jo came by for a good visit in the morning. We talked about how her family was going to take in the Bombshell if my timeline is what it appears to be--she'll need a new home, and they are going to do make life very rich and interesting for our gal. At least that's how I hope it works out--hey, you do what you can and hope for the best, eh?

Then Pastor Andrea came by with lunch, and we talked about what's going on and what the church can do to aid and abet yours truly (for one thing, I'm going to have a comfortable chair to sit in tomorrow--hey, I am not one for special treatment, but my dear body can't sit in those pews) and to pray.

Then, because I hadn't had enough prayer and introspection, I had a session with my therapist, who has an incredible perspective on illness that helps so much now.

Boy, I sure know how to have a good time, eh?

Not to worry, my last event of the evening was that Barbara and Carmella took me out to a double-header lesbian film series at the Academy in town. There was a documentary called (I think) "Edie and Theya: A Long Engagement" followed by a hilarious documentary on a New Zealand phenom called "The Top Twins." One made me cry, one made me laugh--the Twins are going to be in town June 12, and I highly recommend you go see them. Country humor and silliness--by two big ol' lesbians. What's not to love? (I'd go, but it's going to be the sort of mob scene I'm supposed to avoid these days.)

Today has been another recovery day, but happily I'm not as flattened out as I was on Thursday. Barbara and Carmella went back to their new home outside of Boston today. Sorry to see them go, but they need to get their lives going on in earnest again. Can't' believe the stellar job that Carmella did a in the basement--it's like a whole new house down there! And Barbara took such lovely care of us all, Shwea included. Am going to miss them, but I think I'm good on my own for a while, anyway.

Before they left, Val and Joan came by to organize me even more (who knew it was possible?). Sky and Karen came by to check in on me, because they can't help themselves (and are so adorable about it), and now I'm home alone with the best dog ever. Oh, and Val--a sworn cat person--gave Shwea her big walk tonight, which I never would have believed if I hadn't seen it myself. What a sweet pea!

Watched yet another silly movie tonight--the "Tooth Fairy," of all things--and it was definitely a light bit of business, but I like that Rock fellow and Ashley Judd? Toss in Julie Andrews, and well.....

Rough day at the ranch

Today has been a low numbers day, and so I've been feeling low. Had two sets of doctors' appointments today and it wiped me right out--slept most of the afternoon and evening. Am now trying to take my last pills so I can go to sleep. A bleah day, alas.

Good sandwich! Appointments? So-so

Goddess bless Karen for making the drive to Boston today, for the weather was iffy and the traffic terrible. We were over a half-hour late to our appointments today, but it just couldn't be helped.

And we went out there for a procedure I can't have right now, anyway, so it wasn't a necessary Boston trip, after all. My blood counts are too low right now for any extraordinary procedures, apparently. Here's hoping we find that sort of thing out before we make the big trip next time (for Karen's/my driver's sake, if no one else). The best news was that they thought I could try to go without oxygen for a while--I may just wear it at night, but I might just avoid it altogether for as long as I can. We shall see....

I must say, however, I enjoyed my lunch today as I have not enjoyed lunch in ages. With apologies to my vegetarian and vegan friends, I had a cheesesteak sandwich and fries with a Coke at the MGH cafeteria that was just the thing. Heaven!

Then came home to find that my dear friends had the courage to cook the monster lasagna that has been filling the freezer lo these many days, perhaps weeks. Such brave souls!!

As for tomorrow, I get some radiation and meet with my local oncologist for the first time. So right now, TV beckons, and who can blame me? W/love from yours truly and the Blond to End All Blonds.

Haircut with (fu manchu) oxygen

Another good day

The drug I'm taking to reduce swelling appears to be working, for I woke up with even smaller feet than yesterday (hooray!). Still larger than usual, but I didn't feel as though I was lifting such serious weight when getting out of bed this a.m., which is good.

Slept late, for it is a perfect day for it--gray and overcast. Right now it's raining, which means holding down furniture is the job for now. I did take a slight walk out to the mailbox (woo!) after lunch, but that was about it. Tomorrow features a series of appointments in Boston, so I'm enjoying today's sloth while I may.

Barbara's in the kitchen making some sort of chicken curry deliciousness for dinner, Carmella's got a phone interview, and Shwea is snoozing (she's had supper already, what else should she be doing?). She had a rough day, as she and Max had a brief "discussion" during lunch that was upsetting for us all, but they seem to have worked things through for now--Shwea never did share for beans, even when she had a full-time brother, Linus. He deferred to her in all things, but Max hasn't learned that's the best way to go around here, and I don't expect him to--I think it's good for my Bombshell to have to share a little, even if she doesn't think so. (She'd be dialing the MSPCA if she could, this I know.)

As for me, I've been looking at TVs on the Internet, as I think I'd like to set up one in the back bedroom, but am having a heck of a time choosing a size/type of TV. It's crazy out there! Anybody have any suggestions regarding brands or sizes (I'm guessing HDTV is a must), do tell. I'm thinking 32 inch Sony Bravia right now, but am open to suggestion.

On other fronts, Val reports that United Airlines allowed me to cancel another flight due to illness, bless their hearts. I was supposed to visit my Aunt Lib in Nebraska during a family get-together this weekend, but as we know, circumstances rather got in the way of that plan. She's my mother's last living sibling, and is a hoot, so I'm sorry to miss this trip. And don't ask me if I feel worse about this trip than missing California and Hawaii in February--that wouldn t be fair.

So, that's the scoop for today. Hope all's well where you are, too, xo, Ann & Shwea

Monday can be fun, really

Had myself a major hair cut today, as my hair has been falling out a bit, and I wanted to beat it to the punch. Many thanks to Carmella, Barbara, Hilary and Ellen for their efforts in giving me quite the cut. Crew cut, but what's a girl to do? I love the fuzzy feel of my noggin', even if I have a slightly stark look. No pictures yet, but I'll let you know if one of the gals comes forth with one or two.

Didn't have the "fun" of a doctor's appointment today, but have a couple to look forward to later this week.

Speaking of fun, many, many thanks to sistah Joan for enduring the idiocy of eTrade on my behalf. She's helping me try to wrap up Linda's finances, and eTrade has been the lone holdout among Linda's "holdings," seeming to go out of their way to keep us from closing Linda's account there and moving on.

Oh well, t'is always something. And today, thankfully, it doesn't appear to be my health--I feel pretty darn good, today, actually, and am looking very forward to tonight's supper (Babs is cooking burgers!). Yum!

What a weekend!

My first weekend home has flown by, largely because I have been busy, busy, busy. Am so glad it's possible for me to be busy, busy, busy--that was by no means a sure thing not too long ago.

Had visiting dignitaries from D.C. (bro Lew) and NYC (friend Ellen), as well as a wonderful array of local friends stop by, and I can't think of a better way to be welcomed home.

Feel okay, if a few gallons/liters on the heavy side. Seems my "load" has lightened a bit from yesterday, which is good (it didn't take a crane to get my legs into the car this morning), so I'm hoping maybe this is a trend. Maybe?

Shwea and I are being kept company by Carmela and Barbara and their miniature Schnauzers this evening, and expect to have some sort of company for the foreseeable. I have Greta Garbo "I vant to be alone" moments, but it isn't really a good idea (and makes some key members of my family and friends twitchy), so company I have.

And I'm lucky to have it, this I know.

As for tomorrow, I meet with my local oncologist, and we'll get things going here.

So, life is good and busy and I feel okay--this is a report I am very happy to make, friends, esp. with my completely cashed-in Bombshell at my side. XO, A

Back home!

Just woke up from a dream I've been having a lot lately--or at least a variation on a dream I have been having. I am running through a raging rain storm through a rural landscape barely wrapped in some sheets. Never a runner in "real life," I seem to have an endless supply of energy to cover miles of terrain in the worst weather imaginable, but seem to be doing it all effortlessly.

What to make of that, eh?

But that's why I'm posting you dear people now--due to delays both at the hospital and on the highway, Val, Joan and yours truly didn't get home until after 8 p.m. (Many, many thanks to Val and Joan for waiting with me and taking me home, BTW.) Was overwhelmed by my Bombshell's welcome, as usual (she has a full-body wag that cracks me up), and was very touched by all work that had gone into preparing my home for my return by Deb/Carmella, Mary, Lynn and other generous souls.

The most notable addition to the house being the oxygen system that my lung condition requires. Thanks to that, yours truly is typing with a lovely loop of plastic on her noggin'--my look just gets better and better, eh? But since breathing is something I rather enjoy, I am going to work this look as long as I must.

Am feeling pretty good, if bloated--looking a little more like the Pillsbury Doughboy than I would like right now--but hope that medicine and getting around (and not just in sheets in my dreams) will help lighten my water load.

Saying a good-bye of sorts to my wonderful medical team at MGH was very hard--they really all worked so hard on my dear carcass, and while I certainly prefer to be home more than not, I am going to miss their incredible dedication, professionalism, and most of all, sweetness (yes, sweetness). Hope you never find yourself in need of MGH's services, but if you do, I can't recommend them enough.

Well, the birds are chirping in earnest, so I had better get back to bed if I'm going to get any more rest out of this first night home. Love from Northampton and the Goddess, A

The story--as far as I know it (consider the source)

Today was a parade--of doctors, medical students, fellows, friends, calls, clergy and a member of my own dear family. Like a parade, there was often too much going on to take in, so I don't think I'm going to even try to describe much in the way of details. The brain, she just doesn't work that way today--blame it on chemo (which I am currently hooked up to), blame it on overstimulation (note aforementioned parade), blame it on (infamous) Boston, whatever.

The most important development today was that I am going home tomorrow, but not with the special insert I mentioned yesterday. That's fine, as I'd rather be home than have the tube or whatever it is. Instead, they're going to clear out whatever needs clearing out tomorrow and send me home with an outpatient appointment for the official installation on Tuesday.

Next week, I also meet with my local oncologist to get my hometown chemo and radiation plan in place. My doc in Boston has pretty much signed me over to my Northampton doc, but as I understand it, the two hospitals have a consultation agreement which means they will keep in touch with one another as needed, and my Boston doc was kind enough to say they would love to see me. Sweet.

In sum, since the disease is so darn wily and pernicious, I'm finding myself on a different path--having treatment to improve my quality of life instead of going for remission gold. Stay tuned....

Counting down...

The preparation for moving my medical operations home continues. Tomorrow, I am scheduled to see if I can have a drain of sorts intalled in my left lung so it can be cleared out as needed. It depends on a number of factors beyond my control (the saga continues), and more will be revealed tomorrow. We shall see.

Today Saint Karen was on site, keeping me company and comforted. Also had a good talk with Keitheley (thank you, sweetie), Ann and Jo, the chaplin on staff and more. A lot of tears, sweetness, and frank discussions of mortality. Ain't we got fun?

Oh well....

True friends, tough information

Today began with my learning something along the lines of the fact that the pain in my lower back was indeed a number of tumors, I have some swelling around my spine that causes concern and there was an odd spot on my brain stem that they hope to look at with another MRI. They ordered that test this morning, and my nurse says to brace/prepare myself for an after-midnight pickup. If I'm Lucky, it will be around 5. If not....

As a result, I ended up speaking with a couple of radiologists and specialists in a number of blood-related cancer specialities, and it seems that what's next in the way of treatment for me.

Then, Sky, Karen, Joan and Val showed up, and I should have known that this meant Business. They wanted to talk to me about an e-mail exchange one of them had had with my primary oncologist that extracted some details I haven't heard but needed to. This, people, is why having several people to advocate for you a such a fabulous idea.

Even when the news is not good.

Seems that the problem I had with my left lung is extraordinarily rare (affecting about 1% of patients) and indicates a very fast-growing, high disease burden. How fast? My left lung could already be filled up again since being drained on Wednesday. It also means that it would be a miracle indeed if I could get my disease load down low enough to qualify for any kind of transplant.

This was backed up by yesterday's MRI, which showed a lot of tumors in a place that had appeared to be "clean" just a couple of months ago. My body did feel as though it took a turn for the worse this week, too--had a moment just a week or two before Linda died when a little voice in my head said, "You are pushing yourself to the brink--careful you don't go too far"). Somehow was able to work through that time, but it doesn't look good for me know.

Oh, well. With the future we may have before us (Tea Party-approved Congress comes to mind), this might not be a bad time to head to Rock 'n Roll Heaven. Of course, I still hope that the docs find some way to rein in my disease, and I'll have time to enjoy life for a good while, Sarah Palin or no Sarah Palin.

We shall see, dear people, we shall see. Monday's my next meeting with my big doc, and Karen and Sky will be here to advocate (lucky for me).

Yes, even though the latest news qualifies as terrible, "What's next?" is still a serious topic of conversation. There appears to be more interest in a completely different chemo regimen, most of it more traditional chemo that could knock the stuffing out of enough speedy S.O.B.s to improve my quality of life. So, there's a chance of some reprieve, but realistically, nothing like the extended remission that seemed so possible before we learned what kind of myeloma I had. Seems that continued treatment will be my ticket to time, nothing else.

I've cried quite a bit about this news today, as you can imagine. Was very grateful I had Val, Joan, Sky and Karen to cry in front of (even if I can't help be embarrassed by it). It took courage for them all to sit down and tell me this news, but they knew I wasn't getting it from my primary docs, and it was important. What friends, eh?

Am grateful too that the reality of the situation did not inspire any "wishful" thinking on the part of my friends, but instead inspired a lot of love, support, and hugs.

Prayers and well wishes are also coming in from outside Boston, so I'm being well taken care of on many fronts.

Love and hope abound, even if a little snark finds its way in here and there. XO, An

Back in my johnnie again!

This "week off" has officially been declared a dud. I am writing to you from my room on the 20th floor of MGH, where I await the "chariot" that will take me to my MRI.

My back and arms started to hurt last night, and the tightness in my midriff ratcheted up a notch or two this morning. I contacted one of my MM team this morning about it, and wouldn't you know, they wanted to see me--in person--ASAP.

Saint Karen drove me to Boston yet again, where my main doctor told me that the analysis of the fluid in my lungs showed it to be cancer-related, and this increase in pain was likely due to that, too.

In other words, the chemo I've been enjoying isn't really doing its job. So, they're starting me on another regimen on Sunday and it will likely keep me here until Friday or thereabouts.

Unless, of course, the MRI shows a mass that needs to get radiated.

Here's hoping they find nada, is all I can say. Radiation keeps me out of the treatment loop, and that won't help me much.

But if they do, they do, and I'll do whatever necessary to show the so-n-so the door.

Will let you know what's shaking tomorrow, promise.

On the good news front, I received my Stevie Wonder greatest hits compilation today. Think I'm going to listen to "Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing" a few thousand times. xo, A

P.S.: Not to worry, Aunt Mary is making sure the Bombshell is being properly fed, walked and fussed over in my absence.

Not what I'd call a real week off....

Seems I wasn't feeling punk just because I needed a transfusion. Tuesday night, I felt as though my breathing was labored, and thanks to the helpful intervention of Sky and quick response from my MGH team, on Wednesday I was on my way to Boston to get my lungs checked. With (Saint) Karen.

Turns out I had fluid in a left lung, fluid that was removed in a process only slightly less barbaric than the nosebleed "solutions" I have endured this year. It was less awful than I imagined, but I still hope I never have to do that again.

A girl can dream, can't she?

We won't know what the possible cause of the fluid is until myriad tests have been run. For now, I'm happy to breathe a little easier--was beginning to feel as though I had donned a corset around my midsection. Not comfy, not comfy at all.

Today's transfusions left me tired, but I promised myself I'd update the blog before I'd allow myself to nap. Hope this perks me up eventually in some way/shape/form. The other person getting a transfusion in my room was a 75 year-old-man with leukemia. He said he wasn't ready to go yet--he still had a lot of things to do.

Amen, brother.

Lastly, Shwea had yet another test and it looks as though whatever is causing her to be sick and so forth is either allergy- or medicine-related. No signs of tumors or the equivalent. Hooray! I don't know what I'd do if she fell seriously ill, truly--just cleaning up after her each morning tests my endurance. Here's hoping we can get to the bottom of his and ease her delicate tummy soon.

Well, that is the latest, and a good nap is calling. Hope all is well with you, xo, Ann

If I wasn't already sober....

I sure would be now! Yesterday's meeting with the transplant doctor was a very informative, yet dispiriting, affair, though my friend Carmella helped keep things as positive as possible, bless her.

It sounds as though an auto-transplant (a bone marrow/stem cell transplant using my very own cells) is my best hope for an extensive remission. It is also remarkably safe--only a 1% mortality rate, per the doc.

The problem for your correspondent, however, is that to qualify for this transplant I not only have to have responded well to the chemo (and therefore have a lot of "good" cells to harvest), but all of my major organs have to be in great working order.

And for some reason, my kidneys don't currently fit that bill. They took quite a beating thanks to the myeloma cells, and so are not working as well as they should.

Whether they can be in peak working order so I can proceed with the transplant is up in the air. My primary doc in Boston said it all depends on how well the chemo works--and my response to it.

And we all know what kind of influence I have over that ! (Rip-roaring rash, anyone?)

But there are a few things I can do to help my kidneys feel better about things, and that means continuing to drink water like it's going out of style (2-3 liters a day) and eating a low, low potassium diet.

In case you're wondering, I did ask my dear doc whether I have options beyond the transplant if I don't qualify, and I do. So all is not lost.

But it seems that from what I've learned, this transplant gives me the best shot at a decent lease on life, so here's hoping we can turn things around.

Also learned yesterday that I need a blood transfusion, which explains why I've been feeling tired on tired of late (it wasn't church, it was my hemoglobin!). Expect a call from my local doc today as to when I can get quite literally hooked up.

Lastly, yesterday our dear Shwea had a rough morning, so I decided she should have the extra tests our vet suggests. She's there now, thanks to Aunt Mary, and I probably won't hear until late this afternoon what, if anything, they've found.

So I'm in a dither, but my dog is in the thick of things right now--any kind and healing thoughts you have, please send them Shwea's way. xo, Ann

Alley Oop, Oop, Oop, Oop-Oop

This morning I was enjoying a fabulous breakfast (waffles with blueberries and turkey bacon on the side--heaven!), when I noticed a curly obstruction in my line of sight. At first I was afraid I was having a recurrence of an eye problem I had in the hospital, but then it became clear that the obstruction was an exterior problem, an eyebrow run amok.

Upon closer inspection, I was slightly aghast to see that my eyebrows had decided to let their inner freak fly, and my browline was giving Andy Rooney (not to mention Alley Oop) a run for the money.

So, I tidied things up, but thanks to the mirror noted that my face is covered with a peach fuzz that I'm guessing is steroid-related. Nice touch, that. But then, my face is no longer covered with an angry red rash, so this qualifies as an improvement in my book.

Vanity is never one's friend, but when one is on more drugs than Heinz has pickles, vanity is just a heartache waiting to happen.

Still, I am feeling pretty darn well today, even though it was a no-steroid day. Yesterday was supposed to be my "go get 'em!" day, but steroids or not, I was too tired to do much of anything. While I had all sorts of plans, I didn't do much but feed myself and Shwea and nap. Sheesh! Today, on the other hand, I have already deforested my brows and took a walk around the house. Not bad....

Alas, I wish I knew today was going to be a "good day" sooner. I might be at our local Pride March now instead. It's a gorgeous day, and I bet my GLBT friends are having a grand old time. Think this may be the first Pride I've missed since we moved here in '96, but I hope to be back next year. In honor of the day, I'm wearing an ancient rainbow t-shirt and my purple Crocs. And, of course, thinking gay thoughts as often as I can (I listened to Joan Armatrading this morning for extra inspiration).

Yes, I think gay thoughts every day, but one does what one can.

And for those of you who inquired about Shwea, she's doing much better, thanks. Her vet reports her infection/cold appears to be going away (if not gone) thanks to the meds she's on, and except for an occasional cough is her old self. If the cough doesn't go away by Monday or Tuesday, we may be getting her an x-ray or two, but I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. All and all, the Bombshell is much improved--hooray!

So yes, it's a good day all around, and I hope you're enjoying it, too. Love from us both, Ann

So you don't worry....

Just so the nervous types among my friends and family don't worry, I'm okay. Have been keeping busy when I have the gumption, taking naps when I don't.

A number of my dear friends and one WI cousin have offered their bone marrow if it would help, bless their hearts. Think I heard one of the doctors say siblings are preferred, but will learn more Monday as to what's what.

It's all speculation, for my dear numbers have to get to a certain place before any transplant could happen, anyway, so I'm trying not to get ahead of myself here.

We shall see, in other words....

Tomorrow is a treatment day for yours truly; it's also the day that Aunt Mary takes Shwea in the to vet to see what's been ailing her for a while now. Poor gal woke up sick this a.m. and has been balking at her food--always a worry for a member of this family! Would appreciate your healing thoughts for the dear Bombshell tomorrow, too, if you have some to spare.

Well, even though I had about a four-hour nap this afternoon (it's a no-steroid day, in case you're wondering), I'm getting tired, so close I must.

Hope all's well with you--love from me and Sleeping Beauty, Ann

Pardon the news blackout

Heard from a couple of friends today that my lack of posting over the weekend caused worry. They feared it meant I was in a bad place, as the last time I didn't post for a while, I was in a dodgy place, indeed.

Now, I have no control as to the deep, dark places you may go with your worry, but you needn't have.

This weekend, I was in a busy place, simply put. Saturday was primarily "Curb Appeal" day at my home, as Sita and Lynn worked on my yard (Sita cleaned up the yard and mowed, Lynn weeded and mulched), among many other things. (Sita also fixed the ripped piece of plastic on the back porch that has been flapping for months--that will improve my mental health tremendously). Mary made both yours truly and Shwea lunch (we were both charmed, I'm sure), then tackled some laundry, which is always most appreciated.

Then Jo and Chloe came by to visit, Lisa and her nephew came by--twice--to walk You-Know-Who, and I received check-in calls from a number of concerned friends and family, including my sister, whose birthday (24th) I forgot. Terrible.

And no, none of the above entailed anything in the way of physical labor by yours truly, but it was a busy, humbling day.

Sunday, I just went to church, which was wonderful, as it was our celebration of all things GLBT. Our chorus yesterday were from the local Gay Men's Chorus, which sure skewed the usual demographics in the choir loft for the day. It was a hoot, and I couldn't help but get a little teary, both because one can never hear too many gay-positive messages (particularly in a church!) and because this service always made Linda get out her handkerchief, too.

After church, however, I barely had the energy to feed Shwea and myself (though, of course I did), then went directly into nap mode. I didn't wake up until after 4.

I used to run with the wolves, now I need a nap after church. This is what it's come to for Ann Podolske.

As for today's chemo, it went swimmingly. Friend/Sherpa Dawn took me there and back, and we actually had an okay time of it. I did, however, hear more about the planned treatment for yours truly, and it reflects the fact that we are trying to push around some very aggressive Bad Boys, and my team at MGH is not messing around. Today's surprise was that I may not "just" have an auto-transplant, but may also have an allo-transplant (marrow from another person, if a suitable donor can be found), which will extend my treatment window considerably.

I have an appointment with the transplant team on Monday, and will learn more then. Will report more then, too, for my delivery just arrived and Ann does not make her supper wait. How rude!

With love from me and the blond now "guarding" said delivery in the kitchen, Ann

Ann Podolske Irony # 3,459

It's still a little roller-coaster-y around here, but I'm back from my Thursday chemo (thanks for the ride, Sita--it was fun) and feeling fairly humanoid, so thought I'd better post while the posting's good.

Appreciate all the well wishes and support in the comments section Tuesday's post inspired. I received a number of private messages via my regular e-mail that were very helpful, too--as one would expect, the one from my therapist was a beaut.

Was particularly glad to hear from my cheering section after I read an article from the April 12 NYTs, "Cancer Survival Demands Steady Progress," by Jane E. Brody (pardon the lack of link; I always have trouble with NYT links). After reading it, it slowly dawned on me that of the two kinds of myeloma, regular and aggressive, I have the aggressive variety (reserved for just 25% of the population).

NOW I'm aggressive? This little irony bothered me almost as much as the relatively dire prognosis for people in this category. Okay, not as much, but really--if I must get my aggression on, why now, with a disease, instead of in my being when I lived in NYC and it would have been handy? Had to contend with a heckler while doing standup? Had to enter the "murderous merge" outside the Alewife T station in Boston?

Oh well. No one's said a peep about life being fair in my earshot for decades, so I am not surprised.

Should tell you that the article did raise some concerns that I shared with a member of my team at MGH, and this person was kind enough to offer some information to help me feel a bit better about things. The first being that a lot of the data referred to in the article was based on old drugs; the new drugs (many of which I've been on) have not been studied in sufficient depth as of yet. Secondly, my relative youth (snicker if you must, whippersnappers) and health (ditto), as well as my attitude and support network (thank you) make me a candidate for success. And lastly, I have already been through a mill, and did manage to bounce back (I feel as though I had a splat or two, but didn't want to quibble), which bodes well.

We shall see.

Between the kind commentary from a rep of the MGH crew and my therapist, I feel a little less freaked about it all. A heightened sense of mortality does put this gal's head in a spin, I must tell you.

But I, my MGH team and my friends and family are doing everything they can to help me make it through to a nice remission (or several), so I am going to try to keep my "spins" to a minimum. That's today's plan, anyway....

Love from me (at home!) and the starving Bombshell (dinner is due in 7 minutes, 5:00 EST), A

A heapin' helpin' of R-E-A-L-I-T-Y

Am sitting in my office, enjoying the open expanse of oak I now see on my desk, thanks to the efforts of Val and Joan this past weekend. When yesterday's mail landed, I dutifully found the proper home for each piece--am going to try to walk on the tidy side for as long as I can. Besides, I don't want to see any disappointment in my friends' faces when next they visit. They worked too hard!

Jumped on the chemo bandwagon again yesterday, and except for a little nausea I'm feeling okay today. They weren't able to use my new port, alas, for it needs to heal a lot more before it can be used. So yes, I was stuck--twice--yesterday for lab work and chemo. I was not happy about it, but what's a girl to do?

Another "what's a girl to do?" development was that I learned yesterday that the overall plan is this: Another cycle after this one (or more, depending) of chemo, and then, body willing, I will be a candidate for an auto-transfusion. Will need to look into it further, but it entails their collecting my bone marrow cells, then giving me two days of high-dose chemo to wipe out the Bad Boys, then, eventually, returning my cells to their rightful place. It all will entail another three weeks in the hospital, which was a blow, but I think it will be easier knowing in advance that I will be in the hospital that long--this last "visit" was harder since I kept thinking I was heading home only to be kept in my johnnie for another week or more.

And this time, I'll know how much underwear to pack. Hooray!

Am worried, of course, about leaving the Bombshell behind again for another long stretch. She's been having such trouble with her arthritis lately, but I worry about her anyway (the fact that she recently turned 13 is a bit of a worry, too). Perhaps I need to find a good house sitter or the equivalent for my next extended stay at the MGH "hotel"--if you live around here and have any good, dog-friendly house sitters to recommend, do tell.

That's pretty much the whole story for now. Am trying to enjoy each day (today is gorgeous, BTW) and the time I have with the Dowager Princess known as Shwea, not to worry, though I can't help but have the occasional "Yikes!" moment when I think about what lies ahead. I know, I know--it does me no good and I shouldn't allow my brain to go there, but alas, my brain has a mind of its own.

Love from us both, Ann and Shwea

They're still at it!

Val and Joan showed up this morning and are still working away on my papers and beyond--can you believe it? I was surprised they returned this morning, truth be told. Who wants to pick up after two years of organizational neglect, no matter how understandable? These two!

Val is helping me to embrace the 21st century and online banking. She thinks it will help me take a more organized approach to bills (as I don't have an approach right now, she's right).

Joan is still getting Linda's and my own financial paperwork in some sort of order for tax purposes. I would have quit by now, to be honest, but she's determined. And she has done this sort of thing for her parents and others (can you imagine?).

We did take a nice break by heading to the local Tibetan restaurant, a favorite. Happily, Val and Joan liked it, too, and we were joined by Karen and Sky, who wanted to have some face time with these NYC sweethearts, as they have mostly spoken to them over the phone and via email since my medical adventure began.

Since I somehow have a major clothing storage shortage (so many underwear, so few drawers), Val emptied out two of Linda's bureaus for my use. I have been thinking it's now time that I could begin letting her stuff go, but I haven't the gumption to do anything about it. Val, bless her heart, has gumption to spare.

Tomorrow I head back to Boston to start treatment up again, and am a little worried about it. Will likely be a little more fatigued than I was this week (and no, I wasn't exactly a ball of fire), but hope that's about it. We shall see--and besides, I want to keep after those Bad Boy proteins who are heading for the exits. The only way to really show them the door is through chemo, so chemo it is. A little bit scary, but completely necessary. Like a lot of things, none of which I can think of now, alas.

Last but not least, I have my reading glasses back. Keitheley accidentally nabbed them when she visited me in Boston weeks ago, for she has a pair of the same brand. The good news is that I haven't been able to read much, so I didn't miss them. Here's hoping I will be able to use them, and soon!

Hope all is well with you and yours, xo from yours truly and the lethargic lab mix

Val and Joan to the rescue!

Val and Joan arrived from NYC this afternoon with one mission: To help me get the paperwork strewn across my home in order, specifically for tax purposes.

Well, it's almost 6 o'clock in the evening, and they've done an impressive job so far. I can see my wood desk in my office, for one thing! (Thanks, Val.) Plus, Joan has pieced together many things that need to go with my taxes that I had no idea needed to go with my taxes. (Thanks to you, too.)

They also came bearing root beer, which was very cute of them (they can't help it), and insisted I nap when I hit a wall (seems just thinking about my finances puts me to sleep).

Which led to my being woken up for a phone call--it was from the hospital, so they thought it warranted waking me up. You know who it was? The dermatologist who woke me up in the middle of the night to take my picture that time! We actually had a good laugh about it, and he told me that what is happening with my skin (you don't want to know) is normal. Okay, then.

Lest I forget, Val has also taken on some of my laundry, which has piled up to ridiculous proportions in the basement. I have enough clean underwear for the rest of the year, but no sheets or blankies, and she's addressing that, bless her.

Ain't friends grand? That includes the two dears from church who are giving Shwea her constitutional today, of course, and anyone else who has sent a kind thought our way. Thanks, we needed that!

Well, I need to decide what needs to stay and what can go, so off I must go. Love from me and the most relaxed lab mix in history. XO, Ann

Hey--it's working!

Am running out of steam big time, but I thought you should know that today went very well--yes, even the "port placement."

The best news came from our (Karen came along, bless her yet again) meeting with the NP, who said my lab work continues to improve. One little glitch--a number affected by how hydrated I am--in the results was explained (to me) by the fact that I wasn't supposed to eat or drink anything after 12:30 a.m.

Yes, Ann P. without food for over 12 hours. Not pretty, not pretty indeed.

Anyway, the best news was the "bad" proteins are going down--in a major way. They've dropped a great deal since they were first tested, and so all that I've been through is paying dividends, friends. Happy day!

I start my next round of treatments next week, and hope the bad guys' downward slide continues as a result. That's the plan, anyway.

As for the port, it was weird, but hey--it's over. Phew!

So that's the latest, friends. Tomorrow Val and Joan come over from NYC to help me get my taxes together. If any friends could make this fun, they can. (It could happen.)

xo from me and my snoring sidekick, A

Sweets on parade

Today began with my finding a pecan roll and dog biscuit from a local bakery on the front porch from Dana and Sarah, then I received cookies in the mail from my sister-in-law Donna, and a while later, Pastor Andrea left a bevy of cookies on the front porch for me, too.

Tax day = cookie day?

Anyway, sweetness on such a day is welcome. Sita came by and took care of the aging compost fodder that has mouldered on the back porch since I went into the hospital (yes, that long). Dawn came by to tend to some laundry that was leftover from her weekend visit, and Ann H. went grocery shopping for me. Sweetness, indeed.

I also found taking a walk around my backyard soothing (though a lot of branches have fallen back there!) and even drove the car today (and lived!). Seriously, it was very easy to drive. Getting in and out of the car was a little more difficult, but I had some banking to do, darnit.

Now I'm waiting for Shwea to come back from her last call walk so I can go to bed. Need to get up really early tomorrow, as my first appointment in Boston is for 8 a.m. Lovely, that.

It's been a good day. No reason tomorrow can't be good, either, though I may not be up for blogging about it until the weekend. There will be drugs, people, and experience suggests they just make me want to sleeeeeep. Till next time, xo, Ann

Not crystal for long, dare we hope?

Today a friend came by and said I seemed fragile to her. Must say, that is not a term I have ever heard used in relation to myself, but she has a point. I move very slowly, get winded easily, and my skin is still recovering from the RRR (rip-roaring-rash).

Even so, this is progress, for I may be fragile, but I'm home. Plus, an NP from Boston told me today my protein counts are down (a good thing) and my other numbers are all heading in the right direction.

In other words, the chemo I've had is working, and this fragile business will likely be a phase. A temporary one (unlike the gay business 8-).

Am almost looking forward to starting chemo again on Monday, for that is what I need to get stronger, more my "old" relatively hale and hearty self. Just a little nervous about the port, but I know my Linda had one installed, and the procedure didn't seem that bad (to me--I have a whole new perspective on her treatment now, as you can imagine).

Not that I'm an entirely wilting violet. I took the trash out this morning to the curb w/o incident, and brought it back when the Pedal People were done.

That, dear people, is what qualifies as a Big Deal around here, and I'm very happy about it. Hope you have something to be happy about, too (even small potatoes qualify), xo, A

Home again!

My bloodwork was good on many fronts, so all I needed in the way of "tuneups" before they sent me home was a liter of fluid. Bless Deb for driving me to and from Boston as well as hanging out as I had my tests, saw a doctor and NP, and sat for two hours for the infusion. A trooper!

I'll be heading back to Boston on Friday to get a port installed. The result will be a relatively "permanent" access point for all chemo and blood draws that will not require me to get stuck each and every time. I had the PICC line, but those are a bit more tricky. (I was trying to avoid getting any kind of permanent access port, but my arms have made it plain they can't take much more of this chemo business). Sigh.

Monday, chemo starts anew. They plan to eventually put me on the drug that gave me what today's doctor called a "rip-roaring rash," but from all reports, they are taking steps to reduce and/or avoid a rash resurgence. They think this is such an effective drug, I need to be on it. Effective sounds good to me. Here's hoping my dear body goes along with this thinking, eh?

Came home to some leftover beef stew, salad and yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Had pizza and salad for lunch. Yes, I'd say my appetite is okay. Now, I need to take my late-night pills, give myself a shot, and go to bed. Happy day! Seriously, a day home is a good day to your correspondent, shots or no shots. XO from yours truly and the Bombshell, A

Guess who's home?

They let me out on Friday afternoon, bless their hearts, and I'm home until Monday, when I return for tests. There's a chance they may keep me after the tests, but there's also a chance I get to return home.

Please cross your fingers for my getting to return home, okay?

It's been wonderful to see my dear Shwea (who lost her little mind upon my return), sleep (undisturbed) in my own bed, wear "civilian" clothes, and generally live something a lot more like a normal life than can be had in a hospital room. I also had a nice long walk in the 'hood today, and the scenery was a lot nicer than anything I saw on my laps around the 21st floor at MGH.

Well, I wanted to let you know I'm H-O-M-E, perhaps the nicest word I've seen in a long time. Hope you're somewhere safe and comfortable and lovable, too. xo, A

Getting punchy, perhaps?

The social worker assigned to my case (poor gal) dropped by today for a recap on my case, and I found myself singing a slightly revised version of the old Beatles' song, "Revolution," in response. I was referring to the need for my rash to "resolve" (doctor for "go away").

"You say you want a re-so-lu-tion, well, you know, we all want to change the world...."

The social worker, bless her stoic heart, smiled through it all, and noted my good coping skills. Although she used another phrase I can't think of right now (which likely means "off the beam, but likely not to hurt anyone or herself").

Part of my punchiness is due (I think) to the fact that I have somehow managed to have a massive allergy attack up here. My right eye has been bloodshot and weepy all day, and I woke up at 7 only to need to go back to bed from 8 to 12. I was flat out. Trees are one of my big allergens, and from the looks of things outside, Boston's trees are blooming in earnest. The nurses I've polled (my only test group) all say they have trouble with allergies, even on the 21st floor, so I think I'm on to something. Will be getting some Zyrtec soon--that will tell all.

Still, I managed to have a shower today--the first standing up since I've arrived. (Yes, I was using the shower chair before.)

Now I am going to enjoy a nice yogurt "super smoothie," which I just learned is on the patient menu. Strawberry. Delicious! A dietitian came by with this list since I have mentioned (perhaps complained about) the repetition of the day-to-day menu and how it is affecting my appetite.

Yes, even Ann Podolske can get tired of food. Imagine!

No news on when I may head home. I'm guessing early next week, but am not getting my hopes up, as that hasn't worked too well for me in the past. As always: We shall see, eh?

xo from you know where, A

Dang--another visit from the ENT unit

Today the Big News still holds--I am waiting for my rash to ramp down so my white blood cells can report for duty elsewhere. Alas, there's a relatively new rash on my arms, so I don't know how that is going to muddy matters. The good news is that they've been giving me something to keep the itching from driving me that last few meters to crazy, so I'm hoping it will all resolve ere long. We shall see.

There was one truly revolting news development today, though--yours truly had another one of her epic nosebleeds. At least it was only for a few hours, and an ear/nose/throat specialist came to my rescue fairly quickly. I will be a mouth breather for a while, but at least I'm able to do something but hold an ice pack-gauze combo to my nose. It's all about Progress here, people, even really, really small versions of it.

Methinks today's excitement also inspired another round of platelets as well as two units of blood. Right now, I'm also getting some extra phosphorus. Good to know I'm all set there....

Anyway, today's member of the Sweet Pea Patrol is Karen, who came bearing chocolate chip cookies baked by Sky. She also went to Whole Foods and picked up some food I could eat with a recently-packed schnoz (tapioca pudding and peanut butter and crackers), which kept the hunger gremlins at bay. Also owe Shwea's Aunt Mary a big Thank You for for getting our Bombshell her latest shots so she could also get her license. Happy day, Shwea's legit!

Now I'm watching "American Idol," which is something our gal Linder got me hooked on many moons ago, bless her heart.

W/love from the 21st floor, A

Ode to a blotch

Mondays bring news, and today's most mixed message was the fact that my face is becoming a white, blotchy mess means it's healing. Hooray!

As for my labs, most of my numbers are going in the right direction, but aren't quite where they want them to be (before they spring me, naturally).

And the consensus is that I have made some sort of response to the cytoxan (SP?), the new chemo they tried last week, but it does knock me down a bit, so they're going to wait a little while to try that again.

So, the latest plan is to start the Velcade up again next Monday (this is my week off from chemo) and once my numbers allow, they'll try the cytoxan again. As for the Revlamid (again SP?), the chemo that likely caused this hunka-hunka-burnin' rash, that may be back on my menu, too.

We'll cross that bridge......

Today's visiting sweet peas are Mary and Dawn, who not only brought me clean undies (which were becoming a rare and wonderful thing for yours truly) but also my latest bills and census form--as well as an edible supper. Here's to them!

And here's to you--love from Her Blotchiness (but it's a good blotchy, really)

Easter review #2

Well, I just spent 20 minutes updating this blog to have it vanish into thin air (the hospital's wireless access is a twitchy beast).

So, let's keep this brief, just in case.

Lew visited this weekend bearing an Easter basket (courtesy of his mother-in-law) and a baseball cap from Lew & Donna's resort in Mexico. He left after giving me a bit of a brotherly pep talk, which was sweet. To balance all that out, he also took a picture of me in full rash mode, as I have found it helps to put cold washcloths over my head and neck--apparently it's a look that cried out for a photo.

The good news is Lew is very unlikely to put said photo on the Internet. Good news for me, anyway.

A couple of doctors stopped by today to say they think the rash means the chemo is working. Don't know quite what to make of that, but usually, more is revealed on Mondays. Stay tuned.

Lastly, a big tip o' the hat to Mary, Karen and Sky, who somehow found the tax info necessary to get yours truly an extension. Val's Joan figured out how to wrangle said extension, bless her heart, for the Tax Man Cometh whether I'm in the hospital or not. One less thing to worry about--happy day!!

April Fool's, indeed

Yesterday I was in a foul humor, no way around it. April 1, 2010 was the second anniversary of our learning that Linda had ovarian cancer, and to be in the midst of my own cancer treatment on the same day just added a grouch level over which I had no control.

So if you spoke to me yesterday and wondered what the snark was about, that's what the snark was about.

And I am still a very rash-ridden gal, which they say should ease soon. At the very least, the treatment that they think is causing the rash will be taking a break, so one hopes the welts will, too. That's a good thing, for these welts inspired a visit this midnight by a dermatology doc who needed pictures. Had I been in my right mind I would like to think I would have sent him packing, but I was so surprised by the request I let him shoot away.

Yes, I need to give up my milquetoasty ways and soon, this I know.

I had a new chemo agent the day before yesterday, too, which should help me get ahead some (or so we hope). My dear NP gave me two copies of a good book on myeloma that I am slowly making my way through. It's called "100 Questions and Answers About Myeloma," second edition. It's written by two specialists in the disease and an attorney who has myeloma and manages to do quite a bit (a little inspiration there).

Now I'm drinking an iced tea, for water tastes just terrible to me now. Woke up very, very thirsty, though, so I'm glad I had the tea on hand.

My dear doctors and nurse practitioner are working away on getting me ahead of the disease enough to head home; it's all just taking longer than I had hoped (recurrent theme #2,348). I hope they don't think I'm ungrateful for all of their efforts, I am. I just know that yesterday was a tough day on many fronts, and I am glad we're in the midst of April 2, even if it is 4:30 in the morning.

Karen is on the "job" today, which includes the glamor of making sure I have enough clean underwear for the rest of my stay (if that isn't friendship, what is?). Brother Lew is arriving on Saturday to keep me company until Sunday, which will be great, too. Lew's supposed status as older brother has been challenged a bit here--the nurses who were working here when he last visited couldn't quite believe he was 62, nor could they quite believe that he was my older brother. He acted too much like a younger one!

What to make of that, eh?

Well, I should try to get a little more sleep, perhaps. Hope that this finds you well and happy, wherever you are. With love from the 21st floor, Ann

Definitely a "don't see, don't know" scenario

Have developed a rash in response to one of my two chemo drugs, but the treatment is more important than a rash, so the nurses have applied a very pine-y scented balm for it that helps tremendously. It doesn't itch, quite, but it isn't sitting quietly, either. But if I must sit on the edge of a major itch, at least I feel as though I am awash in a fragrant spring glen as I take it all in.

Another aid for the rash is a slightly different cortisone (SP?), which appears to be helping my head form into yet another shape.

My torso already looks more like that of a heavyset man who has developed midlife breasts, alas. If that's how I looked before this all happened, well, I've been living in my own Private Idaho, haven't I?

I'll spare you what we've come up with to deal with my bed sore--yes, I've developed one of those. Apparently it is being addressed by a balm that Barbara picked up for me this afternoon. A balm that is best supported with plastic wrap (I'll let you figure out where and how). Lovely way to get to "crinkle" my way across the floor .

An official leave the hospital date has been announced, but I am not going to hex things by passing it along. It is all dependent on labwork and my body's reception of the blood and platelets she's been getting by the truckload, and that appears far out of the range of my powers.

So let's say fairly soon, okay?

Many thanks to Barbara for said ointment and for running to get fun deserts and an actual, factual pasta dinner for tonight. She'll be missed terribly by yours truly when she heads back home tomorrow, yes indeed-y.

Time for this one to head to bed, methinks--but oh, one more antibiotic to take (hooray!).

Happy day to you, Ann

Hope and off the reservation food!

News abounds--the abdominal scan didn't show anything, my labs continue to "trend well" and after I receive another chemo on Wednesday, I may find myself heading home for a week off.

But there are concerns about my liver and other bits that may keep me here, so I'm not banking on it.

(But wouldn't it be nice?)

On another good news front, friend Barbara arrived around noon and we've been having a good afternoon of conversation and commiseration. She's now off getting me some food from the cafeteria, since I was given the green light to have something else to eat by not one, but two doctors today. Have decided that it's a good sign that I am tired of the variations on a chicken theme offered to inmates--when I was really feeling lousy, I didn't really care.

But now I do--and here's my food, so off I must go (hooray!).

It's a look

My personal vampire tendencies continued through the night, aided and abetted by my new PIC line--was the grateful recipient of even more blood and platelets and was also able to offer blood for testing without the infamous "little pick" caution. Easy, breezy blood work, if you will.

So this new line is making my life easier, as promised. But I have to tell you, I feel more than a little alien with access lines coming out of my arm. It helps that they are purple, but only a little.

But my look, such as it is, is also enhanced by an oxygen mask that covers half my face and makes quite the racket. The racket is made by adding water to the air flow; seems to help with the nosebleed situation, so wear it I do.

Toss in a blue johnnie, white compression socks and purple Crocs, and you can imagine the style I exude as I roll slowly (oh yes, I'm using a walker these days, too) down the hall.

On other fronts, the only word on the scan is that the doctors probably won't look at it over the weekend.

Was so happy to see Jennifer and Scott, the happiest fiancees (SP?) in town. Nothing like a hilarious array of stories to help one still feel part of things, and as Jennifer is a comedy and work friend, she keeps me in the loop with two big parts of my existence that are completely on hold now.

What a friend! Plus, her Scott, a sweet pea of enormous proportions, had some good news to share regarding a math test that he had been studying and studying for (he passed). As the math part of my brain is a very dark and scary place, I find his success particularly impressive. Well done, Scott!

Which reminds me. During my dark phase last week, I recall being on the receiving end of a diabolical array of questions. They were designed to determine my lucidity, but had a decided mathematical bent I find unfair in retrospect. For example, one test was for me to count backwards by 7s starting with 100. May sound like child's play to you, but to me, it brought up every kind of math anxiety I've had since 4th grade. With the added bonus of being in a hospital bed with doctors staring at me, expectantly, while my brain feverishly worked on the problem.

Nice.

Isn't there a kinder-to-the-verbal-set way to test such things? Where are the grammar-based challenges for the word wonks? Maybe a spelling bee?

Well, should wrap this up--breakfast is coming any second, and I don't want to miss that! Lew should be coming along soon to continue his weekend coverage (bless his heart), and I may have some other friends coming by to visit later, too.

With love from the 21st floor, Ann

New room with a Lew

Am very happy to report I was moved to a new room on the 21st floor last night. It's a single, which makes it so much nicer for everyone. My latest roommate had some sort of infection, which was a worry for yours truly as my white blood cells are down right now. My new floor is dedicated to chemo for folks like me, too, so it's the place to be for many reasons.


Dear Lew arrived at the hospital around 8 this morning and as I neglected to tell him that I had been moved (am just puzzled by my behavior in this matter), he went to my old room, perhaps giving the current resident a fright.


In a word: Oops. (Hard to imagine Lew really scaring anyone, though, isn't it?)

This morning's first order of business was a scan of my abdomen, which required me to fast from midnight on (not one of my favorite things). Lew came along for the trip, which was comforting, and I hope we'll hear something of a report eventually. (Nothing was forthcoming in real time, naturally--there are channels to follow and so forth and so on.) Another "to do" today is the addition of something called a PIC line, a more extensive than usual blood access and chemo line. If it means I hear "now you'll feel a little pinch" less often in the middle-of-the-night, that works for me!


But my favorite event today was getting tidied up a bit--including wearing actual, factual underwear.

Yes, this qualifies as a big day--woo!

Now I just got a call from Jennifer and Scott, who are approaching the building to visit. Will report more later--xo from the 21st floor, A

Contrary creature

My system is a puzzlement to my dear doctors. I received two fresh batches of blood and one of platelets yesterday, and didn't get a boost from the combo. Instead, I seem to have chewed them up and spit them out.

Sheesh!

So, the night nurse just came for another blood sample for my dear doctors to puzzle over.

Never wanted to be a woman of mystery, friends; certainly not a woman of medical mystery.

This development also means yours truly will not be going home any time soon. Tuesday is the earliest possible day now. Oh well....

More to come from the dear doctors and beyond. All good, A

Back--I think--on track

Fell off the planet a short while there, sorry. I really, really felt lousy, then I felt worse. Then I slept for a number of days, waking only when my brother arrived from D.C. (Who knew Lew had healing powers?) Before I came to, a team of doctors at MassGeneral put me through my paces. I have had a number of procedures that I would be hard-pressed to explain. My blood has been repeatedly tested and filtered and I have received several blood and platelet transfusions and more are in my future. My system is under siege, basically, and will be for a while.




As for here on out, my hematologist's nurse practitioner put my status thusly: "Ann is metabolically extraordinarily busy."



I've had a number of roommates, each of whom is facing a far more difficult diagnosis than I. That helps keep things in some perspective, but still, feeling like (expletive deleted) puts one's compassion to the test. Or maybe it puts it on the back porch? Mother Theresa's legacy has no worries where I'm concerned, let us say.



The good news, as always, is that my friends have shown up big time again. Besides Lew, Val, Joan, Karen, Pastor Andrea and Mary have been on hand offering help and support, root beer and sweetness.

Nurse just arrived, time for pills, more tomorrow.

Does Thursday work for you?

My roommate is on her way home, and I'm not.

Phooey.

Next ETD? Thursday. Still not quite up to snuff, alas.

Back on my chemo Valcase, but not on "new" agent; pain management still a work in progress. And that "regularity" business? Still highly irregular. And I just don't feel very good.

Realistically, the hospital is the place I ought to be, but I'd rather not be here.

That's today's whine.

Today's good news is that Val and Joan, visions of mercy from NYC, are here, replacing Karen in the "taking care of business" role she's filled so incredibly for a while now. Thanks to them, Karen was able to rendez-vous with Sky in time for a show in Worcester they had been planning for ages now.

Mary may be filling in for Val and Joan in a few days to boot.

And another packet of platelets are wending their way into my bloodstream as I type.

So, the Patch-a-Thon Continues, and I should be feeling better, if incrementally, as time goes on.

Or something like that.

So, that's the latest.

And I am still drugged up but good (bad?), so again, the usual caveats apply. Will let you know you know what, if anything, I learn tomorrow.

xo from Boston, the land o' beans and delays,

Ann

Only fooling!

I'm not home today after all, friends. Instead, I spent the night at MGH and will likely be here until Monday or Tuesday.

Oh well.

My last radiation treatment was this morning, too, which took a whole lot more gumption than anything I've had to do so far (yes, including the nasal yeows). The lower back pain decided to shoot up when I got flat, which meant held my breath through most of the zaps, and hope I don't have anything like like that on my menu for a long, long time, if ever. Color me wuss? Feel free!!

The head of the myeloma program here came by to give me an overview of my new pain approach, and to remind me that once the treatment starts getting my dear bone marrow back on line, pain management will be easier (in about a month's time or thereabouts).

FYI, this was written under the influence of more drugs than Heinz has pickles, and I apologize for any lack of vim and vigor in speech/clarity/what-all.

What's a gal to do, right?

May the Beantown stupor be short-lived--xo, Ann

Woke up around 4 a.m., too excited about the prospect of heading home today to sleep any later. Also had a nosebleed to contend with, which didn't help inspire a groggy frame o' mind, alas.

Am worried about my final two radiation treatments. Felt like the dear, devoted doctors, nurses and techs threw the kitchen sink at me last night, but when it came to lie flat, my back just said no.

So frustrating!

But today is another day, and there are likely a lot more things that can be done so I can get one more treatment under my belt before heading home tonight.

And there was good news yesterday that I don't want us to overlook. First, the CT scan showed no new revolting developments under the sun in my lower back, and secondly, my kidney doctor was very pleased that my kidney function was improving over the past week despite everything else that was going on--hooray!

It's finally continental breakfast time, so I'd better go get some coffee and a nibbly bit of some sort. (Won't have this service available after today, after all. 8-)

Signing off from Boston at last, Ann

So close.....

Wasn't able to undergo today's radiation treatment. The pain in my lower back was just too severe to allow me to lie flat, damnitall.

The techs all assured me that this isn't the end of anything and it just means that I will likely have my last treatment on Monday, not tomorrow.

But I will still be heading home tomorrow, not to worry.

Happiness is pain management

Well, what do you know? I was full o' beans yesterday--yes, I know, alert the media.

Today's news is that the CT scan showed nothing, and nothing is good. Great, even!


There are no new bone issues or lesions behind the pain--the myeloma is the culprit, and since we're planning to start treatment up again tomorrow, it will not be running amok for much longer.


Last night, Karen put her famous persistence and crazy phone skills to getting the green light for a dose of pain medicine that worked. If it hadn't, we were going to have to go to the ER.

But no ER, no drama--just sleep. Wonderful, wonderful sleep. Thanks, Karen!!!!

So, that's the latest. Now must get ready for today's kidney doc visit and my second-from-last (isn't that a lovely concept?) radiation treatment.

With love from Boston, Ann

Quick update

Just so you know, there's been no word on the CT scan results, but I am feeling worse enough to suggest something is going on and it ain't (sorry, Mother) good.

Oh, crap.

But I did feel well enough this evening to have dinner with comedy friends Jessie Baade and Andrea Henry. It was really great to see them, and to hear about all of the good things they're working on--we're all in for some treats, people, and that's a good thing.

Karen is here, taking very good care of yours truly with regular phone consults from Sky. Here's hoping tomorrow brings answers and pain relief.

And perhaps some less than terrible news? Let's go for that, shall we?

Love,
Ann

Ah, t'is always something

My lower back began to ache a bit yesterday, and I was under strict instructions to tell my dear Doc if I had new/more pain somewhere, so....

Looks as though I'll be having a CT scan tomorrow to see if something else is going on, but in my lower back this time.

No need to worry--it could be nada, and even if it is another lesion, I will be starting chemo up anew on Friday. That is Job One, friends. Depending on what's what, I may be having another course of radiation, I may not.

Due to the urgency of all this, my chemo schedule is changing, too--to Mondays and Thursdays instead of Wednesdays and Saturdays. This might make getting rides more tricky, I realize, but it doesn't sound as though I really have a lot of leeway right now, so I'm just saying "Okay" to it all in the hopes we can figure something out. The dear ol' carcass comes first, right?

So, here we are. I must admit this latest twist has left me weepy more than once, including in the doctor's office, but they were dear about it, so why worry? I really can't. Stoicism might be big in the Midwest, but I haven't lived there for decades, so I'm going with whatever happens, including tears, even if a little corner of my mind is saying, "Oh for pity's sake, would you buck up a little?"

For now, no. Bucking up takes energy I don't have, so the weeps have it.

It's just been another tough day, but as with all of my tough days so far, there have been balancing bright spots. For one thing, Mary is keeping me company another night, which is a big comfort. Plus, Karen has generously offered to spend the next two nights here, and, most importantly, take me home on Friday.

And that prospect makes all this other fun 'n frolic that much more bearable, you know?

Till tomorrow, friends--with love from Boston, Ann

Rainy days and Mondays....

This was a busy day, as I had lab work, an appointment with my primary/blood doc and radiation. Had promised Val, Joan, Karen and probably Sky that I would take a cab over to the clinic, but the weather was so absurd at departure time the ETA for cabs was 45 minutes.

And the clinic is across the street.

So, I toddled. Carefully. Across the ridiculously wet, rain-slicked bricks of this @#%$%* picturesque little patch of Boston, buffeted by wind and rain.

In a word: Sheesh!

But I managed to get where I needed to get, so all's well that ends well, I suppose. The main news today is from my doc, who, looking at my lab results, said that it's really, really a good idea to get me started on treatment as soon as possible after my radiation course ends on Friday. From what he said and how it said it (this man should never play poker, is all I can say), I deduced that the myeloma has taken advantage of this break in my treatment and my protein levels are creeping up again--and that's not good.

So, I'm having lab work done on Friday to see whether I can start my treatment early next week. Fingers crossed!!

I also learned that I likely have an MRI in my future to see how well the radiation did its job, but likely not for a week or more.

(My mission today was to see if there is anything that will get in the way of my heading home after Friday's radiation, and so far it's looking as though I will be clear to leave afterwards. Woo!)

The other good news today is that my friend Mary, scheduler/singer/juicer, is here, keeping me company. She got lost getting here, but did eventually find her way with step-by-step directions from Karen, who knows this area oh-too-well.

So, this was decidedly a Monday on many fronts, but it's good to have company and a relatively light (just radiation) day ahead tomorrow. Plus, the weather is finally supposed to take a turn for the better, which can only help make this all less, er, challenging (for lack of a better word).

Love from my little patch of Boston,

Ann

Taken care of and then some

The weather outside is frightful, but in my little hotel it's been delightful. Have been absolutely catered to by Val and Joan all day, and they just left for home a little while ago after making me promise to do a number of things (take a cab to the clinic if it's still raining tomorrow, call someone if my swelling gets worse, etc., etc.). That this list of things to do was coordinated with Karen and Sky should surprise no one who knows who's in charge of things here.

It certainly isn't yours truly!

Breakfast was one half of the mutant bagels they brought, along with some fruit and yogurt I had on hand. Lunch was pizza and salad from the Upper Crust (great thin crust!), followed by ice cream. Heaven. Have a ridiculous array of leftovers from which to choose from for supper, so there one could say that my steroids will be appeased for the balance of the day (and then some).

Val and Joan even picked up a Sunday New York Times for yours truly, which makes my Sunday complete.

They also showed me slides from their trip to Morocco last year, which was a nice stroll down memory lane (RPCV-Maroc, 1986-1988) for me. Might even add Morocco to my growing list of places to visit (aka "Bucket List," but I'm hoping that bucket moves away from me as time and treatment go on).

Tonight I'm just taking it easy, which of course is about all I'm up for, so it all works out. Plus, it is dismal, dreary and otherwise almost too damp for ducks out there, so I am just staying put (something I also promised Val/Joan/Karen/Sky I'd do).

Just found myself a Sandra Bullock film, so I'm set--hope all's well for you, too. Love, Ann

Turn the day around

This day certainly perked up a bit after the morning coffee debacle.

Dear NYC friends Val and Joan landed mid-morning, bearing food groups and nonsense (a wind-up chicken that dispenses bubble gum out of its bum--who doesn't need one of those?). They're also avid travelers, which meant they had a lot to talk about with my friend Keitheley (always nice when friends who don't know each other find common ground, and quickly).

Keitheley was able to stay through lunch, which we had just down the street. Good thing there are so many good restaurants close by, for the weather has been ridiculous. Rain, rain and more rain--though I should be grateful. Joan heard that if this rain were snow we'd have over 20 inches of the stuff to contend with, and with my shuffle-off-to-Buffalo approach to walking, that might be the end o' me and mobility.

Anyway, after lunch Joan and Val and I headed back to my home away from home, and they showed me slides from their Hawaii trip (yes, the trip I was supposed to join them on, but let's not dwell). They then went to pick up that Rx that I want to have on hand but pray I never need to use, which was a load off my mind.

We gabbed through the afternoon (a recurrent theme with yours truly, apparently), then headed to dinner to another lovely Italian spot called Figs. Delicious, though I am feeling beached-whale-ish at the moment. (And no, I can't blame this on the steroids.)

We sat around and talked some more, then Val and Joan headed off to give me some quiet alone time. I will try to go to sleep "naturally" soon, but I am on increased steroids over the weekend, so fear I may need to try another of my mother's little helpers. The body sure is tired, but the brain--she's on some sort of hyperdrive, and not exactly open to reason, at least where sleep is concerned.

But despite a rude beginning, this day did turn around but good, and I'm looking forward to more time with Val and Joan tomorrow, before they head back to the City.

Love from my little corner of Boston, Ann

Let's hope this is a, er, passing trend.....

Delicacy alert: The following post has to do with my business end, so to speak, so the delicate among you (one never knows) may want to skip this post.

As I already reported, I had a terrible row with constipation in the hospital, and ended up taking a series of things (concluding with suppositories I will forever refer to as "bottle rockets") to ensure I'd get back on track. Ultimately, all began to do what it was supposed to, and I am now on a regularity regimen that worked wonders for a dear friend who was once up a similar digestive tree.

All appeared to be working fine till this a.m., which I hope was just "one of those things" that pop up as one is calibrating the fine, delicate balance of one's systems.

Wandered over to the breakfast bar in the hotel lounge for a morning joe and cheese danish (yes, cheese danish!). Sat and ate it in the lounge, as Keitheley is still resting, and I enjoy a chance to stare out into space (even onto Storrow Drive on a gray March day) with the best of them.

Well, I got up to get another cup of coffee, and felt something a little awry in my undies and then an updraft of aroma I usually associate with my friends in the three-and-under set, Chloe and Isaiah.

I'll spare you the details, but when I returned to my room and investigated, I had made a wee mess o' things in my underpants.

Getting a cup of coffee? Yikes!!

So, pear-shaped and pooped-panted, I present you Ann Podolske!

The glamor of illness cannot be overstated, folks.

Hope you have a much more tidy day! xo, Ann

Last radiation of the week--and company!

Had a busy day for someone who lumbers about at the speed of, well, perhaps speed isn't the word. I put one foot in front of the other with great deliberation. It's slow, but it seems to be working, and it gets me where I need to go.

Today that meant a visit to the lab, then my dear doc's NP, followed by radiation and a visit with my radiation oncologist. Just a check in/up, to see how I'm doing, which is fine. She did scare me a little by offering a Rx to a medicine that would numb my throat enough to eat--if it came to that.

My dear esophagus (SP?) is in the line of fire, unfortunately, so it could get mad enough to not go along with meals. I've had seven of my 12 treatments, however, and so far heartburn's been my biggest "side effect." Plus, it's hard to imagine a Podolske body part in support of saying no to food, but recent experience suggests just about anything is possible where my dear body is concerned.

Just hoping this is one of those Rxs that gets filled, but never opened.

Friend Keitheley was here waiting when I returned from my medical extravaganza, bless her heart. She is now out cold on the sleeper sofa in the sitting room--but for dinner at a nice little Italian restaurant that Linda and I also dined at a time or two, we have been talking, talking, talking on myriad subjects, serious and ridiculous. My favorite!

I'm still here typing away because my steroids were upped today, plain and simple. Am hoping I can blog myself into oblivion soon. Keitheley also brought the local paper, which though it's usually only about a five-minute read, can help one doze off, too.

Overall, a very good day. A nosebleed did rear its ugly head, but I think we have an understanding. Otherwise, however, all appears to be going along according to plan, I have company tonight and more expected tomorrow (my dear friends Val and Joan from NYC--and they're bringing real bagels!), and I feel more solid than I have in a while. Hard to imagine yours truly as a will o' the wisp, but I was there on my insides. Thank Whomever that feeling is lifting, is all I can say.

And in the "good news of a very particular sort" category, I add this. I can't remember who said it to me today, but when I noted how I am becoming a pear-shaped person from my ears down, this kind soul said, "Ann, if it's any consolation, it's obvious that you're on steroids."

Don't know if it's vanity, don't care, but that made me feel better. My insurance company case manager was a little less subtle--she told me to stop looking in the mirror!

Well, that's enough on Podolske the Pear Shaped for now. Thank you so for checking in--love, Ann

P.S.: Carol K--my little home is in the John Jeffries House on Mugar Way or something (no identifying materials in the bedroom, sorry).