Life Is But A Dream

Today was Taxol treatment numero tres (3).  So far so good.  This stuff isn't bothering me NEARLY as much as the A/C did.  Last week, day two is when the effects of the chemo hit.  When I woke up on Thursday morning I felt incredibly worn out.  Chemo brain was in full gear, so much so that I took my evening meds instead of my morning meds.  I heated up water for my tea in the microwave and found that I had forgotten to put water in the cup!  Yikes!!  Most of all, though, I felt incredibly tired, so I didn't do much of anything on Thursday except sit in my recliner and watch Judge Judy and the Olympics.  It was almost the same kind of feeling you get when you are first sick with a cold and your whole body goes into that "sick mode" of fatigue and general malaise.  That's how Thursday was.

From Friday on, I progressively felt better, and I did have at least a couple of days where I felt "normal" enough to do "normal" stuff. Like going to the grocery store or giving the bathroom a good scrub down and not feeling wiped out afterward.  It felt pretty damned good, to be honest.  I've spent so much time, the last couple of months, feeling "not normal" that I appreciate "normal" so much more now.  :)

Went to Green Bay again yesterday to follow-up with Dr. Shere.  What he told me this time is not a) what I expected to hear, and b) not what I wanted to hear.  He basically told me the tissue in my left eye, that is causing the visual obstruction, has been damaged and it is unlikely my full vision will return.  So that means the dark spots in my eye, that I can't see through, will not go away, and the dark shadow that blurs my peripheral vision and makes it even more difficult to see, will also not go away.  Well, shit.

I decided to look into a second opinion, so I called Mayo Clinic to get that ball rolling.  There are just so many unanswered questions, except for the fact that the chemo compromised my immune system that started WHATEVER is going on with my eyes.  Dr. Shere called me today to let me know he's really concerned about how thin my retina is in a couple of spots on both my eyes.  Apparently he is also concerned about the tear he "laser welded" on my first visit isn't going to hold, which could result in a detached retina.  So he wants to zap that eye a couple more times on Monday.  He's back to thinking it's a virus , something that most of us carry, but is usually kept in check by our immune system when we are healthy.  However, when your immune system isn't working right, and your body can't keep it in check, it can become active.  And it usually presents as issues in the eye.  And if not treated properly, well...it's not good.  So, I just feel I need a little more expert opinion on this whole situation.  Fortunately Dr. Shere is on board with that, and said a lot of good things about the specialist at Mayo Clinic.  His office has already sent the referral letter and my medical records to the Mayo Clinic Ophthalmology department, so I am just waiting for the information to be reviewed before they call me to set up an appointment.  Perhaps sometime next week.

I was having a conversation today with a friend of mine who had cancer and went through heavy chemo and even a stem cell treatment.  She talked about how she looks back at her time having cancer as sort of a dream.  I could relate, except I have that feeling now.  I just feel like this WHOLE situation has been so ridiculous, so far, with all these odd little things have have come up --- it HAS to be a dream!!  Right?!

*sigh*

I just don't know.  I hate having unanswered questions.  It drives me a little batty.  My Dad mentioned that because it's something that I can't control, it makes it that much more difficult to handle.  He's right.  I know I have a bit of a controlling nature.  Not real severe, but enough that I take comfort in knowing *I* have the control.  But there is NO CONTROL with cancer and all of its side adventures.  And that grinds my gears like you wouldn't believe.

All that said -- life isn't terrible.  I have a home, I have food, I have a good prognosis.  I have people in my life that I love dearly, and who love me back.  Frustrations, unanswered questions, and lack of control aside, I've got it pretty good for what is going on, and boy, I am so thankful for that.