A Focus on Health Status

Well, the time I spent writing the first part of this post yesterday was a test of patience as I spent time huddled in the corner of an examining room tapping away on my IPad similar to those people who never learned to type - using the 'hunt and peck' method of producing a message.  At one point during that escapade, my post disappeared off the page like a magician's rabbit - hey do you think it fell down one of the many holes along these adventures?  My efforts to retrieve and rescue proved fruitless as they did just now when I made a valiant effort to bring the first portion back to the surface.  Forever in the depths of Adventure land they lie, perhaps to be discovered at some point in the future by another traveller.

I started writing about the fact that we have reached October 1st already, even after a glorious summer stretching well into late September.  As well, it seems my health, which is the original intent of this whole blog, had taken priority over any number of other matters during September.  During a routine monthly visit with my family doc who is relatively new to me, and having proven herself as a very competent coach between oncology visits, we decided (together) that bloodwork would be in order given the time since the last vampirical draw (ya, I know, that's not even a real word but seemed to fit here!),
it might be a good time to re-examine and review the inner workings of my anatomy.

The itch in my feet also continues to cause me to behave like a chimpanzee picking nit wits and what nots from their mate or baby as I literally go outside to rub my feet against the brick wall in an effort to get some relief.  Needless to say, that strategy was not a wise one given that the abrasiveness of the brick can easily lead to broken skin, open sores, and, God forbid, infection!  Now the head had to take over and introduce the proper level of self discipline to prevent further problems from developing.  This would be a good time to take the advice of my doc, and, after every pool visit which is an hour and a half most days of the week, to wash my feet well with soap, not just rinse them off in the shower, dry them well and coat them in moisturizer.  After all, one just needs to look at the condition of my bathing suits after only a couple of months of exposure to the chlorine on a daily basis. Yikes.  And, take a peek at the water shoes I bought, I think, in June.

 Prior to that I was pool walking barefoot and concerned that the bottom of my feet were peeling - no itch, no pain, just layers of skin shedding, likely as a combined effort of the water, chlorine, and the friction on the bottom of the pool.  My water shoes already have most of the tread gone in the same places as my feet!

Another consideration in having bloodwork done was simply that it'd been almost a year since the last draw.  And thirdly, which will be no surprise to anyone who has been following these posts,is yet another but significantly deeper level of down to the bone, weary fatigue. For the entire month of September.

Having been a morning person all my life, not needing an alarm clock to wake up and buzzing around like the Energizer bunny, only now to be, as I've described to many of you, in tortoise mode - slow to move, slower to respond and spending lots of time curled up in my shell (and actually enjoying the solitude).

Ok, so off I go to the lab, have the necessary pokes and prods along with an offer to sign up online to get the results. On arriving home this techno peasant made an attempt to set up a profile on 'My Results' through Life Labs, a new service available only since August. Feeling relatively confident with the whole process, I patiently waited for the confirmation email.  No email, pick up the phone, wait in line only to be told to give it an hour or more. Next day still no email in my inbox - inbox being the operative word. Another call, more helpful this time, offering a reset of sorts and bingo - we're set up.

 

In the midst of all this, the sheepish message back to the folks at Life Labs that in fact the original confirmation email had arrived only to have wormed its way into my junk mail. Did I think to check there before jumping into the insanity of the phone queues?  Oh no, thus resulting in much more energy being spent than necessary on my part!

Finally I'm able to pull up the results of my blood tests to determine if I'd achieved a passing grade on the notable sections of my anatomic measures. Of the sections my doctor had circled on the previous forms, and after careful examination and comparison, my imagination went into cyberspace. As I've often said to family and friends "in the absence of information, it's left to the imagination."  I don't know about you but I have one of the most vivid imaginations known to mankind. There I sit looking at numbers that I really don't understand except to see some wildly wacky comparatives. I made every effort to breathe deeply over the weekend to keep anxiety at bay and my 'coach', true to form, called Monday morning. What she had already done was examine and research the results and called my oncologist to discuss the obvious variances. If I didn't hear by Wednesday of that week I was to call the oncologist's office.  By Thursday morning, I made the call, surprisingly in a state of relative calm, a very new reaction for me - maybe an attribute of the tortoise vs. the rabbit - hey I  haven't heard that version of the story, but maybe because I'd lived my life in 'hare mode'. 

As things turn out, my oncologist called within 20 minutes only to tell me she'd tried to call 5 times without success as one of the numbers was recorded more as a 6 than a 5. And - yup - no answering service at the number she was trying to call.

The end result of our conversation was that the numbers that were dipsying and doodling all over were the enzyme results - which, by nature, fluctuate widely during the course of any day or week.  Her main concern is with the liver function results which measure Bilirubin, Clotting, and INR, Bilirubin being the most important in a case such as mine.  Well, after her patient and careful explanation, I learned my bilirubin was well below the accepted high and that many cancer patients on chemotherapy can regularly hover higher still.  As well, given that I am not presenting any jaundice provides further reassurance.  Apparently, even if my bilirubin went to a much higher number and I wasn't turning yellow, there would not be concern or deliberate action to conduct another scan.  If it went to that much higher number and I was looking like a banana peel, off I'd go to have a look at whether the fruit under the peel was still reasonably ripe or if it had gotten to the banana bread stage.  In other words, at that point a cat scan would definitely be in order.

An important consideration though is that if I, feel at any time, that a cat scan would make me feel better I am in a position to request one, on the understanding that once done, we must deal with the results, whatever they may be.  The point being, if I feel relatively ok 'as is', nothing is dramatically out of line, and no other symptoms have presented themselves, there is really no reason to do further diagnostics.

 My comment to both my physicians, with all sincerity has been, as I may have articulated here in the past, that I believe that God does His work for my health through the hands of my docs and that it's not up to me as a lay person to try and second guess their expertise on the basis of what I might read on the internet.

These conversations have caused me to ponder the actions of others who have travelled to the U.S. knowing they could pay for a cat scan or MRI to get a full 'reading' of their physical state without having any real medical issues.  Does that take us to a moral and ethical place of dealing with the information that is discovered?  What if there is something there but not presenting symptoms and not getting in the way or ordinary living?  Something that wasn't known before, not causing problems, could potentially become all consuming mentally and result in action and expense that perhaps wasn't necessary.  It would be interesting to have a conversation with someone who has taken such radical(???) action and see how they felt the experience affected their life.  I guess if nothing was found it wouldn't matter much but would they do it again?  And if so, what is the primary motivation?  Some might say prevention but who knows?

I suppose one could argue that we've all heard so many stories of how an illness was diagnosed during a regular examination, procedure or doctor's visit for something totally unrelated.  How many of us are driven by fear of what might be rather than living our lives in the here and now with whatever cards life has dealt to us?  I gotta tell you that the physical aspects of the last three years has not been an overriding concern but rather a passing annoyance that you put up with until either it goes away or you figure out a way to live with it.  The direct link though to what has to be different has surfaced in the last few weeks.

For the first time, I experienced a sense of loss and grief for those things I can no longer do physically on my own despite my mental willingness.  One such activity is gardening.  Not that I'm a Mr. Greenjeans with a thumb that produces a plethora of greenery and garden delights.  No, my main interest is just digging in the dirt, spending time among the amazing variety of plants and flowers, and very slowly planning what might go where.
 I've learned that within my limited capacity for 'scuba diving', I have no interest in doing all sorts of research to develop that enviable perennial garden that has something blooming at all times of the season.  No, I'd rather 'wind surf' and simply create a more simplistic, predictable space where I know what belongs.  That way, what doesn't belong, can easily be identified and torn out with enthusiasm. Unfortunately shortness of breath, limited ability to get up and down combined with discomfort when down, has kept me from being able to enjoy this past interest of mine.

What I have done recently, as somewhat of an 'offset', is to go around the neighbourhood where new fibre optic wires are being installed and collect rocks that might fit in my dry river bed in the back yard.  Mike was counselling me on making sure I only collected round stones until I was able to declare that any stones that were not round would make great Inukshuks!
Of course that's going to mean someone else (we won't say who at this point) is going to have to do the heavy work of lifting, moving and placing the stones while I joyfully watch and maybe plaster on some cement to keep the things together.

My plan for this post was to talk about numerical coincidences and share with you another piece of how my brain naturally functions that can be scary or boring depending on your point of view.  Seeing combinations and patterns in dates and numbers has long held a fascination for me.  What do they mean, if anything?  How do they connect events and people or are they just random combinations that I'm spending too much brain matter on trying to figure out?

Although I'm not sure I try to figure them out so much as to be open and more or less plot them on my giant imaginary white board to see, if at some time in the future, any sort of pattern or picture becomes apparent.

At this point I'm going to sign off and complete a couple of other tasks that I promised myself I'd do today.  Wishing you a great weekend and couple of weeks and we'll connect again around the middle of October.  In the meantime take care and God Bless,

Liz

dobbsjones@gmail.com
'Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive'.