On February 28th, 2012, I went for a run at lunchtime with a girlfriend of mine. The plan was two miles, I couldn’t make it past half a mile. I waved her on, and told her to keep going as I thought, “dang, I am out of shape.” Walked most of the next mile and a half and resolved to get back to regular running….slowly. That shortness of breath that I felt on the run did not go away over the next couple of days. Carrying in my backpack from the car to my office winded me. And that was a red flag. I just did not feel like myself. I was bone weary.
Since losing so much weight a few years back, I’ve been very much in tune with my body. I know when something isn’t right, and I’ve learned to trust that instinct without thinking twice. On Friday morning, I came to work as usual and still had that breathing problem. But with it, a new symptom – left arm numbness. I, of course, googled heart attack symptoms in women: shortness of breath, insomnia, numbness in the left arm pit/shoulder… and I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I left the office to go to the doctor, who immediately sent me to the ER. After a lot of tests and scans of my head and heart (yes… I really do have a brain… I have proof now!), I was cleared of heart attack or stroke. But my blood work came back with low counts across the board – white and red blood cells, platelets, hemoglobin. Also known as Pancytopenia.
They admitted me for further testing and for what ended up being three separate blood transfusions, and on Sunday I underwent a bone marrow biopsy (a royal pain in the arse). Not a pleasant experience, lol. But thanks to my mom who held my hand through the whole thing while I cried, I made it through. Monday was a waiting game. And Tuesday morning finally brought some answers.
On Tuesday, March 6, 2012, I was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). I wish I could say I took it well, but I could not have been more shocked. Leukemia, really? I honestly felt like I was picked up and dropped off in someone else’s life. And then began my journey of learning a whole new language.
This blog is a way for me to post frequent updates for my family and friends, and will be my primary means of communication with my support network. I’ve been so overwhelmed with emails, texts, calls and Facebook posts filled with support and love over the last week. I want to respond to each and every one personally, but I just physically and mentally can’t. But I read every word. And am boosted, encouraged and energized by each one.
The Road Less Traveled 
You, my friend, are completely awesome. I am amazed at the strength you have to share your story as it unfolds. Once I get over what ever settled in to my sinuses in California and I am safe, I’ll drop by to chat.
Well hurry it up and bump up the Vit C! Looking forward to seeing you. Your buddy John was up here yesterday, made quite the impression on the floor with his guitar!
Okay, I am caught up now! As I said in an email to you, which you are probably ignoring, I searched for you on CaringBridge, but could not find you. Ironically enough, I am back as a regular visitor to the site for my 18 year old “nephew.” I also went back and re-read all of my sister-in-law’s posts from 2005 and 2007 when she had cancer, which was how i learned of CaringBridge. Amazing how “funny” all of this is going to be to you when it’s all over!
Sounds like you are doing well and your positive attitude is keeping you going! Don’t EVER lose that, no matter how bad things get, and try to find the humor in everything. You will look back on this someday and only have wonderful memories instead of painful ones. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true!
As far as the morphine push…I totally get it! Not sure why they continue to do that if it causes those reactions in people. I will share with you so that you know you are not alone, I was en route to recovery and most likely on my way home in the next day or so, when the nurse switched from an IV drip of morphine to a morphine push. (of course following dr’s orders…and I LOVED…my doctor…but I digress.)
After getting the morphine push I began to have a similar reaction to yours, but then I started to vomit. I will also add that I believed I could feel the morphine travel, as cold as ice water, through EVERY vein in my body. The pressure of the vomiting, unbeknownst to me and my nurses at the time, caused the internal stitches in the dura of my brain to split, and my blood pressure to rise, but the opposite way-140/110-as I felt a trickle of fluid down the back of my neck…seeping out of my external staples.
Of course it was about 11:00 pm, they had to call my neurosurgeon at home, and the covering staff doctor came to see me. The fluid down the back of my neck was cerebral spinal fluid (CSF) and that unusual blood pressure was a sign of too much pressure in my brain. Once they were able to get my blood pressure under control (some mind/body connections were needed) I then had to sit in my hospital bed at a 50 degree angle. I was now back on the IV (damn, they just took that needle out!) as they had to administer an antibiotic-if fluid was coming out, obviously bacteria could get in…didn’t need to add meningitis to my resume! Surprisingly though, the only other instruction given to the attending physician was to change my bandages on my neck regularly as they were going to soak due to CSF leakage. My neurosurgeon told them to keep me at that 50 degree angle…no exceptions, and he would see me in the morning.
I will not bore you with the rest of the story as you know I am HAPPY AND HEALTHY, and I plan on using it for my book (that I will write SOMEDAY,) but I wound up in the hospital for a week and a half after that! But, it was just a blip, another experience, another “funny” moment to write about. Soon, you too will be talking and writing about your “blips!”
Adele