Sunday Stroke Survival: The Energizer Bunny

At times, I feel like the Energizer Bunny. But the battery is running low so instead of  him beating his drum in a rapid cadence, it's more like skipping every other beat. Kind of like my heart is doing right now. No, that's not good news either.

But I'm stronger than last week. I managed to go with Mel to the dump. More for moral support than actually helping because I'm still under a 10 lb weight lifting restraint. I actually managed to feed the rabbits and chickens three times this week. I leave the watering to Mel, it's too much repetitive bending for me to do comfortably yet, but I'm doing more while am healing up. I've even managed cooking our main meal (3 PM- 5PM) five times this week. So that's an improvement, but it's not happening fast enough.

While I know I'll get there in time, I have this ticking time bomb booming in my head with every passing day while I recover and get semi normal again. The time bomb is the cancer in my thyroid area. Everyday that passes is another day that it might spread to my lungs, brain, or lymphatic system. I'm already living post six strokes, a failed baclofen pump placement and removal, and a failing heart. Did I really need cancer too? Talk about a quadruple whammy!

I-131

So as you can tell, my patience is running a bit thin right now with it taking so long to recover enough for this next surgery. The radiation therapy has a basically, for this type of cancer, carries with it a 28-day half life of isolation protocol. I have to spend the first two weeks in a lead lined room in the hospital. After that I'm discharged home, I have to maintain a 3-foot distance from every living thing (plant and animal). My bedding and clothing need to be washed twice, any eating and cooking stuff will be contaminated and must be washed in the dishwasher or use disposables. Meals will have to be cooked by Mel. Been here, done that, and didn't want to do it again.

That brings up another point. Disposables must be bagged separately in bio-hazard bags and held for 90 days before it's safe enough to be disposed of. Even though the hospitals can dispose these, it can only happen after the 45-day mark. Imagine how many diapers, and paper goods will be generated in that time frame.

Now if the cancer has spread, that a whole 'nother can of worms. More radiation (not the isolation type) and chemo to look forward to. Sure I can afford at least a 50-lb weight drop, but I can think of a dozen less drastic ways to do  this. Losing my hair is the least of my worries. I'll be fighting for my life. When I've gone through this before I wore peasant skirts and blouses, big earrings, and silk scarves. These were my gypsy months. But as a sexagenarian, I don't think I'll bother with that this time. Before, I stayed in the work force and was in the public eye more.

Around here, the rabbits, chickens, cats, dogs, and garden don't care what I look like so long as they are tended to. Well I take that back, Buddy Baby (rabbit) and Lil Bit (cat) do like to lick my eyelids and brows, and groom my hair as a signs of affection. But that's it. Mel will just have to get used to it. With the weather cooling down, I can always knit myself a couple of chemo caps while they pump that poison into my veins, right?

Did I mention my patience is wearing thin? My thoughts turn positively morbid when I get like this. Can't you tell? My positive, uplifting, and optimistic side  slides into oblivion the more my patience gets thinner. I can still pray so I'm not totally without hope. This is the most important thing to me. Now, God is giving me enough patience to get me through today and that's my blessing. He keeps reminding me that He is control no matter what happens. He's got my back, front, and both sides.

Nothing is impossible.