Saturday, March 06, 2010

Update attempt # 2

Have had my second radiation treatment--after a full breakfast, I'm happy to note--and may (not definite) have yet another tomorrow.

They're not messing around with that blankety-blank mass, and I am glad they're taking a no-prisoners approach (even if I do fancy myself a peace, love and understanding type of gal). If you want to think about what should be happening to said mass, the operative word is SHRINKING--it should be SHRINKING.

Excuse me: It IS shrinking.

So let's all think shrinking thoughts, shall we?

My kidney function has improved, too, which is good news as well--no extraordinary measures required right now, which works for me.

That extra MRI? It took two and one-half hours. Thank Whomever for Ativan and pain meds, for it was a lot to take in. No music, either, so I found myself trying to imagine which music went along with the banging and clanging best. Green Day came up most often, followed by the B-52s, which I listened to during my first MRI the day before. Perfect music to MRI by, that.

Yesterday, Karen and I were graced by a visit from Mary (aka the Singing Juice, Shwea's favorite step-mom and my scheduler) and her Lynn, who came bearing scones and hilarity. Good combo. We had a tremendous visit, and talked about light things and more frightening things as well.

No one should be surprised that the appearance of the mass in my back has put my worst-case-scenario center in my brain on high alert. I am frightened, in other words, and talking about that with Karen, Lynn and Mary gave me the courage to ask my oncologist what the mass may mean where my original prognosis is concerned.

It all comes down to how I respond to treatment. This sort of thing is common with multiple myeloma, so there is a good chance I will still be able to wrest some good long time out of this life in spite of that shrinking violet in my back.

They are planning on adding another chemo to my current Velcade to help this all along, but that won't be happening until about 10 days after my last radiation, which will be in two weeks or so. We're still working on where I will be staying while in Boston, but I'm sure that will work out somehow, too.

Things tend to do that for me, even if I do seem to need to hit some heart-stopping bumps and potholes along the way. Sigh.

Here's to things smoothing out, returning to normal (or whatever that is for yours truly) or shrinking away to oblivion, depending.

Thank you so for your concern and notes--I will try to keep the info coming as time and circumstance allow, and hope you all are well and happy and enjoying what looks an awful lot like the beginning of spring outside my enormous hospital room window. (I can see the Charles and sailboats and hawks and all sorts of beauty from my bed--isn't that nice?)

Love to you all this gorgeous, good-news Saturday, Ann

4 comments:

Trevor said...

Hi Ann- Nancy & I are praying for you. Keep on shrinking! -Trevor

Val and Joan's travels said...

Ann-
When I think of you I picture you in the palm of God's hand, and with the angels he sent surrounding you in the form of your wonderful friends. God hates myeloma and spinal masses and all things nasty...that's why he/she has to send so many angels to take care of us! So next time you are in a long MRI, or are up at night feeling fear, picture all of the angels sitting on your shoulder, watching over you, and comforting you....

Love you-

Val (and of course, the Missus)

eve x said...

if i may parapharse sarah palin

"Shrink baby shrink."

Unknown said...

Dios mio te pido que le de la mano a Ann durante este tiempo tan dificir.Double teaming with your friends.