Symbiosis

Probably one of the worst days I've ever had. I can remember only one or two that even come close. For some reason, after I had been up for an hour or so, what ever it is inside of us that supports our moods simply collapsed, and my emotions went into freefall. It was very cyclic - not so bad one minute, extremely bad the next. Sights and sounds - any stimulation what so ever seemed painful to me. I thought I can't sustain this level of hopelessness indefinitely.

Fortunately, I had a doctor's appointment with my new internist this morning at 11 AM. On the way over there, I was chilling one minute then burning up the next. Sitting in the lobby, I was freezing, then I was boiling - and I knew I had to be running a fever. I have not been feeling well for several days now, and I have been positive that the cancer is back and this is what is running me down. After this horrible fight to continue living - to see my Grandson grow up, even just a little bit - to continue being here for my Son - the entire Pittsburgh experience all for not, "now that the cancer is back; and in just two or three months", I thought.

Sitting, shivering in the waiting room, I thought, what are they suppose to do with me now? They've given me chemotherapy that almost killed me, they've given me four surgeries, one of which almost killed me - Oncologists have a philosophy; they can keep most cancer patients alive pretty much indefinitely using chemo, but they know that it would be a life not worth living; so they reach a point where they let you go. Surely I am near that point. In my weakened condition, I doubt they'd even do anything else to try to save me.

This is how horrible my thinking had become.

So I went in to see the doctor and after briefly discussing my recent weakness, chills and hot flashes and state of mind, he went over the results of the last visits blood tests. He said that my testosterone level was virtually non-existent and that could lead to many problems, including deep and serious depression. He said that he could treat the condition, but he required me to get clearance from my surgical oncologist, Dr. Bartlett back in Pittsburgh. He said that he did not want to feed the cancer.

My new doctor doesn't mind spending a lot of time with me, and it allows me to ask all of the questions I want to ask. I told him that I was virtually certain the cancer had returned, and even if it hadn't, it certainly would in the near future. I told him that I felt doomed. While my thinking on this is not entirely reasonable, it showed how hopeless I had become. Out of the many words exchanged between this young doctor, and I, he said one of the wisest things I've ever heard.

Without arguing with me about my paranoia regarding the return or eventual return of the cancer, he said that if we lived forever, life would become meaningless. He made the statement that death is what gave life meaning. And he is correct. I instantly felt better - the depression and anxiety lifted somewhat and we began to discuss my REAL symptoms.

He said that I was up against a lot of things that could be making me feel miserable. First of all, it's only been a short while since my surgeries and my bleeding experience. He showed me evidence in my lab report that my system was making large quantities of new red blood cells. A very good thing. He said this was in response to my serious blood loss and transfusions just a few weeks ago. He further said that I had not finished healing from the surgery itself - nowhere near finished. My entire large intestine was completely closed off (on purpose) and it was virtually impossible to stay adequately hydrated without a large intestine. Then, he added, you have no testosterone in your body; and you need that in order to feel good. Now add a possible virus or stomach bug - even the flu and your body and attitude will crash into a thousand pieces. He reminded me that even though I had been recovering from major surgery, I was still a living, breathing human being - certainly capable of catching something other than cancer that could be making me feel so bad.

So then he examined me, listened to my breathing, and he said that he wanted to get more blood work done and also get a chest x-ray. I suppose he didn't exactly like what he heard coming out of my chest. Even though I was in a much better mood after his speech, my first thought was "great, now it's in my lungs".

Extremely pleased with my visit, I proceeded with the lab work. The doctor told me that he'd call me at the end of the day with the results of the radiology. I left and continued chilling and boiling and my mood slipped back down, but not as low as before. I occupied myself with sewing and getting photos ready for the art show (SEPTEMBER 8 @ CEADAR CREEK VINEYARDS - SEE YOU THERE).

At five-o-clock I drove back over to his office to get the news in person. Even though it was after hours, the doctor brought me back into an examination room and told me that I had pneumonia in my left lung. "This, combined with everything else, is why you are feeling so badly". I was relieved. Have you ever heard of anybody, ever, being relieved that they had pneumonia? He said that it was a relatively mild case, and it was a borderline issue whether to put me in the hospital or not. He said that he'd rather keep me out of the hospital for fear of catching other germs. He opted to treat me with high-powered antibiotics on an outpatient basis for now. He arranged for a shot and also wrote a prescription. Oddly enough, even after all of the pain that I've been through, that dang shot hurt like hell. It hurt as badly as anything else, and that seemed strange to me.

During my initial Pittsburgh surgery, Dr. Bartlett found cancer in a portion of my diaphragm and he had to remove %25 of it. Since then I have been unable to breath very deeply and this is probably the principal cause of the pneumonia.

When I got home from my various activities and errands, I got on Facebook and I read all of the comments and messages from all of you… and I felt overwhelmed. I had so many private messages; it will take me quite some time to respond to them all. They ALL seemed so eloquently written - and spot-on in terms of what you were sharing with me and telling me. Your messages and comments lifted me up so very much - it is hard for me to imagine being cared for so much by so many people I hardly even know, or know not at all except for Facebook.

But there is a symbiosis with Facebook, and sharing things like I did with my Pittsburgh story. So many of you wrote to me and told me how inspiring my story was. And that I had helped you in some way, I am still unsure how. I am not sure why I wrote all of that and put it up for you all to see… But now I believe it is Devine. I was lead by God to write it - I inspired you (I still don't know how) and now, when I've reached a bottom; a state of hopelessness and despair, YOU LIFT ME UP. YOU INSPIRE ME. YOU PRAY FOR ME. You administer Goodwill to me as if it was CPR and you turn me around as if I were a cardiac patient just revived from a heart-stopping episode.

Symbiotic. Quid Pro Quo (one hand washes the other).

Of course, tonight I still have low testosterone. I still have pneumonia. I am still not fully recovered from the cancer treatments and I am still very weak. But at least I feel a great deal more hope than I have in the past few days. And for that I thank you so very much.

God Bless You All!!

JT