Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Not Again.

Once you have cancer, the thought of hearing that word again attached to your name is no fun at all. For me, beating cancer twice has always got me thinking about the 3rd time––mainly that it never comes.

I had been feeling pretty lousy for a couple of months. I ignored it. I'm fucking Superman, right? Just working too hard for too many days, weeks, months and years. I'll be OK.

Then I realized about 7 years ago, I was feeling the same. Always tired. Weight was fluctuating. My hair was falling out more than usual. So I finally stopped for an hour. Yes, took myself away from phones, computers, TV and people to get my head straight for a whole hour. Had a talk with myself. The conclusion? If you keep this up, you won't be around very much longer. Time to go see the Doctor.

I decided that it was time for a complete physical––and so did my Doctor. I made an appointment (earliest was 6 weeks later) and went back to working myself to death. All the time wondering what the hell was wrong with me and would I be able to handle the "c" word again if it came to that.

Fast forward to the physical. I had lost 10 pounds. My blood pressure was through the roof. I had no energy. My Doctor ordered extra blood work. This did not seem to be good. At all.

Last week, I had a consultation on my test results. Seems as if the radiation and chemo I received in 2007 has damaged my thyroid––hypo thyroid it was explained to me which can be caused by radiation among other things. "Nothing to worry about right now but we need to see if we can correct it with medication." When people tell you there is nothing to worry about, there's something to worry about. And so I did worry until I got my scrips filled. Which now includes medication for: acid reflux (side effect), cholesterol (hereditary), Vitamin D (dangerously low) and thyroid (side effect). For the next 4-6 weeks.

We'll see how it all works, one day at time. Because that's all we really have, is today. And for at least today, I can say with absolute certainty that I do not have cancer and turn those two dreaded words into positive words.

Not again.