limping toward ecstasy

I am now the proud owner of a walker, a cane, and an appointment to get a handicapped parking placard.

About a month ago, I had a weird pain in my leg that felt like sciatica. I’ve had sciatica on and off for a couple of years and it’s no big deal; usually some ibuprofen does the trick, but after a few days the pain was brutal. I couldn’t get up the stairs in my house without help. Even moving around in bed took forever because my leg hurt so bad.

Since the cancer in my bones is an issue, we knew we could’t fool around with it, so in short order I had tests done. I had an X-ray on the same day as my chemo appointment with no waiting and left with a ton of paperwork.

I was under the impression that cancer patients can only get radiation therapy once. It turns out I just can’t ever get radiation on my chest again, But I am going to get a short, easy course on my left leg, just above my knee. Once a day for ten days. In and out in five minutes, easy peasy, no Stephen King horror movie skin under the bandages this time.

I have been feeling better the last few days, but am still hoping for even a little bit of relief, since it comes and goes.

It’s scary to feel helpless at this age. I’m not young, but I’m not close to surrendering. It’s not even an option. I still have a family. I’m not even fifty yet.

Sometimes I’ve felt like my doctors aren’t entirely forthcoming about my condition. This is one of those times. I didn’t get to see my X-ray, and the words my oncologist uses now seem vague, like what he had to say might seem too frightening. My bloodwork has been improving, so the news of a growing tumor is confusing and upsetting.

If I didn’t have my family, I don’t know where I’d be.

My youngest has been driving me to appointments when it’s been too hard to drive. One day, as we were driving back from an appointment and I was feeling particularly sorry for myself, he said, “My friends all think you’re amazing. You’re the strongest person I know.” Whenever I think I’m being wimpy or useless, they’re around me, lifting me up.

5 thoughts on “limping toward ecstasy

  1. You ARE amazing – and such a warrior! I love how they’re all looking after you, and with such tenderness and admiration, too. You have created such a beautiful family. I can’t think of anything more worth fighting for. Hang in there – you’re in my thoughts. I’m sending so much love your way.

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