Vertebroplasties are not all they are "cracked" up to be. Pun intended since cancer has cracked my bone, specifically Lumbar #4. And other unwelcome cancer carbuncles are growing like a grape vine around, above, below and within my Lumbars #3 and #5. Anyhoo, the vertebroplasty was supposed to alleviate my lower back (actually it's BUTT) pain.
Whee.
Bottom (pun intended) line?
I still have pain.
Mucho pain.
So I've got a new doctor to help manage my pain.
And I'm so happy to add another doctor to my already incredibly long list of doctors. Ahem.
Okay, I should be grateful.
And I am.
Sort of.
I'll tell you who is NOT grateful.
My buttocks.
Because it seems as though they think they are rock stars on a tour where they can't wait to show everyone what they got. *cue guitar riff* Welcome to the jungle!
Yeesh.
If I have to show ONE MORE DOCTOR my buttocks? I'm going to have start charging a fee.
Yeesh.
So yesterday, I went for my second shot of steroids to hopefully (keep your fingers crossed) help alleviate this butt/hip scorching pain.
What I didn't count on was hearing his excitement as he told his assistant during the procedure, "See that's the spot where the needle needs to be. Let me dig in there a little bit more."
Yikes.
Then I feel his hand on my buttock pushing and kneading apparently doing the digging. He used a giant ex ray machine so he could see everything as he guided or dug the needle in to my sweet, unyielding flesh. At least that is how I have always envisioned it to be. I don't want to know if he saw it differently. Welcome to the jungle....?
Double yikes.
So they got to where they needed to be finally and injected the precious steroid.
Let's hope shot number two works! Unfortunately, shot number one didn't do diddly squat!
Lately, I've been wishing more and more that I drank alcohol.
I'm pretty sure a tall glass of cold beer would go down ever so sweetly.
I can almost imagine the taste.
But wait.
I've got something better!
My faithful Diet Dr. Pepper.
Ah!
Hey, us Cancer VETS learn not to be choosy.
We'll take what we can get.
*burp*
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Cement, Shellac or even Super Glue!
Just do it already.
Apparently, my lumbar #3, not to be confused with lumbar #4 that I got radiated last spring, has decided to become a bugaboo.
Yep, she's done fractured herself on me.
*sigh*
And how did she accomplish such a feat?
Let's just say she had some unwanted and unwelcome company who did the dirty deed. Some "extra" cells that aren't friendly and cause lots of mischief in general aka cancer.
*sigh*
Anyhoo, so the very unwelcome cancer made an unexpected appearance on lumbar #3 and started growing there. Then she got so hungry that she chewed through my bone! Hence, causing a fracture. Hence, pain. Hence, mucho pain.
When the doctor told me, my first thoughts were to damn my boys. Why?
"Don't step on the crack, or you'll break your Mother's back!"
Me thinks they've been step cracking.
A lot.
Well the solution to this problem is cement.
Yes, I will be getting an injection of cement straight to lumbar #3 to fix the fracture.
I don't care what they use: cement, shellac or even super glue.
Just fix me up, baby.
NOW.
please?
B.S. No syringes were harmed during the production of this post.
Apparently, my lumbar #3, not to be confused with lumbar #4 that I got radiated last spring, has decided to become a bugaboo.
Yep, she's done fractured herself on me.
*sigh*
And how did she accomplish such a feat?
Let's just say she had some unwanted and unwelcome company who did the dirty deed. Some "extra" cells that aren't friendly and cause lots of mischief in general aka cancer.
*sigh*
Anyhoo, so the very unwelcome cancer made an unexpected appearance on lumbar #3 and started growing there. Then she got so hungry that she chewed through my bone! Hence, causing a fracture. Hence, pain. Hence, mucho pain.
When the doctor told me, my first thoughts were to damn my boys. Why?
"Don't step on the crack, or you'll break your Mother's back!"
Me thinks they've been step cracking.
A lot.
Well the solution to this problem is cement.
Yes, I will be getting an injection of cement straight to lumbar #3 to fix the fracture.
I don't care what they use: cement, shellac or even super glue.
Just fix me up, baby.
NOW.
please?
B.S. No syringes were harmed during the production of this post.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Nothing to Moo About
You know what?
It's been a really rough year.
And yes, it's barely started.
I want to go back to 2013!
Yeesh.
Long story short: shots in the buttocks have some wicked side effects. Like intense hip, bone, muscle, joint pain by the boatloads.
I thought I had pain before?
Whoo-wee.
I was wrong.
So I've finally given in to the heavy drugs and started taking some. You see I know I have an addictive personality, so I have to be very careful whilst ingesting pain killers.
They might end up being a one-way ticket to La La Land. That would not be a good thing. Or maybe it would. Hmm.
Maybe I should "relax baby, let it happen."
Why is that line so funny to me?
Probably because of the straight shot of joy Percy is giving me.
Oh Percy! (aka Percocet or Percy-kins)
How you make my heart swoon!
And my blood pressure raise slightly, but who's keeping track?
My new relationship with Percocet is still in the beginning stages. We're being cautious. We only show our good sides to each other. And Percy-kins has me floating in the clouds. It's so peaceful! I'm walking on sunshine. Oh yeah, baby. It's delish.
But you know how it goes. After enough time, you start to take each other for granted, you start burping and farting in front of each other and then one day you'll startle yourself and ask: where are the clouds? Where did they go? When did that feeling leave? Because something has changed and I'm not sure I like it anymore. Is Percy-kins getting tired of me? Is he tired of trying? Did he.... find someone else?
*thud*
Say it isn't so!
Because that's spooky and definitely nothing to moo about.
"Moo."
Who did that? Come on now. That was not very nice.
And if you're not nice to me, I'll, I'll, I'll........ yeah, I'll........ you know.... sic 'em...... blub, blub, blub......
*snores*
B.S. No blub, blub, blub, blub, lah-dee-dah-dee-doooooooo...!
It's been a really rough year.
And yes, it's barely started.
I want to go back to 2013!
Yeesh.
Long story short: shots in the buttocks have some wicked side effects. Like intense hip, bone, muscle, joint pain by the boatloads.
I thought I had pain before?
Whoo-wee.
I was wrong.
So I've finally given in to the heavy drugs and started taking some. You see I know I have an addictive personality, so I have to be very careful whilst ingesting pain killers.
They might end up being a one-way ticket to La La Land. That would not be a good thing. Or maybe it would. Hmm.
Maybe I should "relax baby, let it happen."
Why is that line so funny to me?
Probably because of the straight shot of joy Percy is giving me.
Oh Percy! (aka Percocet or Percy-kins)
How you make my heart swoon!
And my blood pressure raise slightly, but who's keeping track?
My new relationship with Percocet is still in the beginning stages. We're being cautious. We only show our good sides to each other. And Percy-kins has me floating in the clouds. It's so peaceful! I'm walking on sunshine. Oh yeah, baby. It's delish.
But you know how it goes. After enough time, you start to take each other for granted, you start burping and farting in front of each other and then one day you'll startle yourself and ask: where are the clouds? Where did they go? When did that feeling leave? Because something has changed and I'm not sure I like it anymore. Is Percy-kins getting tired of me? Is he tired of trying? Did he.... find someone else?
*thud*
Say it isn't so!
Because that's spooky and definitely nothing to moo about.
"Moo."
Who did that? Come on now. That was not very nice.
And if you're not nice to me, I'll, I'll, I'll........ yeah, I'll........ you know.... sic 'em...... blub, blub, blub......
*snores*
B.S. No blub, blub, blub, blub, lah-dee-dah-dee-doooooooo...!
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Merry Christmas!
May your day be bright
With sounds of delight
From....
More cowbell.
Merry Christmas!
Moooooo.
B.S. No bovine were harmed during the production of this post.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Shots Much?
Last week I went on and on about how much I like Nurse Lisa.
Today? Not so much.
She lied.
"Mrs. Quirkster, you will be given one shot in the arm once a month."
First of all, it wasn't ONE shot, it was TWO.
Second of all, it wasn't in the arm, but in the buttocks. One in each cheek.
So unbeknownst to me I sat in the Chemo Room waiting for my shot(s), a horrific life event was about to unfold.
Lisa was out of the picture by now. She had passed me off to the Chemo Nurses. And boy was this new nurse excited and bubbly. Why was she so excited? I became suspicious.
*gulp*
She had lots to tell me.
"It's refrigerated, so we like to warm it up so it will go in easier."
Easier?
*heart palpitations begin*
"And it will be administered in two shots, one to each buttock."
WHAT?
*hyperventilating*
I was going to have to pull down my pants?
*full-blown panic attack setting in*
Not again.
I'm always having to expose myself to strangers. Nothing like knowing that the bright lights of the injection room (yes, they have a special room off to the side of the Chemo Room just for shots) will enhance MY buttocks for an up close and personal experience with the Chemo Nurse.
*breathing in and out of the paper bag...slowly*
Lucky for Nurse Lisa, I don't hold grudges.
I'll forgive her eventually.
But...
(pun intended)
It's not easy.
*sigh*
B.S. No Chemo Nurses were harmed during the production of this post. Note: Lisa is not a Chemo Nurse. Bwahahaha!
Today? Not so much.
She lied.
"Mrs. Quirkster, you will be given one shot in the arm once a month."
First of all, it wasn't ONE shot, it was TWO.
Second of all, it wasn't in the arm, but in the buttocks. One in each cheek.
So unbeknownst to me I sat in the Chemo Room waiting for my shot(s), a horrific life event was about to unfold.
Lisa was out of the picture by now. She had passed me off to the Chemo Nurses. And boy was this new nurse excited and bubbly. Why was she so excited? I became suspicious.
*gulp*
She had lots to tell me.
"It's refrigerated, so we like to warm it up so it will go in easier."
Easier?
*heart palpitations begin*
"And it will be administered in two shots, one to each buttock."
WHAT?
*hyperventilating*
I was going to have to pull down my pants?
*full-blown panic attack setting in*
Not again.
I'm always having to expose myself to strangers. Nothing like knowing that the bright lights of the injection room (yes, they have a special room off to the side of the Chemo Room just for shots) will enhance MY buttocks for an up close and personal experience with the Chemo Nurse.
*breathing in and out of the paper bag...slowly*
Lucky for Nurse Lisa, I don't hold grudges.
I'll forgive her eventually.
But...
(pun intended)
It's not easy.
*sigh*
B.S. No Chemo Nurses were harmed during the production of this post. Note: Lisa is not a Chemo Nurse. Bwahahaha!
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Boo!
So I am a couple days early posting for the ever ominous Friday the 13th!
Yeah, that happens this week.
Hence, the Boo!
On that alleged spooky day, I am scheduled to get my first shot as part of the Poloma Study I am participating in, however, the date was not set in stone.
Nurse Lisa: "Let's see when we can get you in... well... we'll get your EKG and lab work on Monday, Tuesday you have your CT Scan and Bone Scan... we'll need a couple of days to get those results, so what about Friday? Oh, but that's Friday the 13th, you're not superstitious are you?"
Me: "Uhm well let's see, I've already got cancer how much worse can it get? Nah, no superstitions here."
Then she laughed.
A lot.
Then on Monday whilst putting stickers on my torso and limbs for my EKG, Nurse Lisa posed a very sensitive question, "How old are you?"
I told her the dreaded number.
Astonished, she replied, "I thought you were at least ten years younger than me, and I'm 44 years old."
Me: "That's the correct response."
I tell ya: I like this girl.
A lot.
*insert cheesy smile here*
B.S. No EKG machines were harmed during the production of this post.
Yeah, that happens this week.
Hence, the Boo!
On that alleged spooky day, I am scheduled to get my first shot as part of the Poloma Study I am participating in, however, the date was not set in stone.
Nurse Lisa: "Let's see when we can get you in... well... we'll get your EKG and lab work on Monday, Tuesday you have your CT Scan and Bone Scan... we'll need a couple of days to get those results, so what about Friday? Oh, but that's Friday the 13th, you're not superstitious are you?"
Me: "Uhm well let's see, I've already got cancer how much worse can it get? Nah, no superstitions here."
Then she laughed.
A lot.
Then on Monday whilst putting stickers on my torso and limbs for my EKG, Nurse Lisa posed a very sensitive question, "How old are you?"
I told her the dreaded number.
Astonished, she replied, "I thought you were at least ten years younger than me, and I'm 44 years old."
Me: "That's the correct response."
I tell ya: I like this girl.
A lot.
*insert cheesy smile here*
B.S. No EKG machines were harmed during the production of this post.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Poloma
Repeat after me: Po-low-mah.
Yep, that's the name of the cancer study that I'm participating in!
Whee.
My oncologist recommended it, but little did I realize how involved it would be.
First of all, there's a new nurse in my life: Lisa. She's very sweet and laughs at my jokes. So I like her. A lot.
Second of all, the study will pay for many future scans and blood work. Suh-weet. Me and my check book like this. A lot.
Third of all, my head exploded. I did not like this. A lot.
Yes, it was not pretty.
How did my head explode?
When Lisa told me that since my last biopsy was in the spring, they would just use my cancer tumor. I was confused. What? The cancer tissue procured during the bone biopsy is not good enough? That's when we confirmed metastatic breast cancer to the bones.
Whee.
Back to Lisa.
"No, there might be too many bone particles in it. We'll just use the cancer tumor."
Huh?
What cancer tumor?
Then the light bulb started flickering on. Dang 40 watt bulbs! Makes it hard to process things quickly.
Then it blazed white!
And blew my mind.
They have my original cancer tumor!
She confirmed this very fact.
My breast cancer tumor has been stored in some underground (?), high security (?) vault! There is some dude or dudette who takes care and makes sure nobody accesses my cancer without proper permission. What is this person's title: Tumor Vault Technician?
Yikes!
I had to sign a tumor release.
Okay.
Apparently, according to Lisa, they keep the tumor tissue for 20 years!
Good heavens. The cancer tumor will outlive me!
I just never knew there was a part of me... somewhere out there.... beneath the pale moonlight?
Wow.
Still can't wrap my mind around it. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.
KABOOM.
The light bulb blew.
Again.
*blub, blub, blub, blub, blub*
B.S. No Tumor Vault Technicians were harmed during the production of this post.
Yep, that's the name of the cancer study that I'm participating in!
Whee.
My oncologist recommended it, but little did I realize how involved it would be.
First of all, there's a new nurse in my life: Lisa. She's very sweet and laughs at my jokes. So I like her. A lot.
Second of all, the study will pay for many future scans and blood work. Suh-weet. Me and my check book like this. A lot.
Third of all, my head exploded. I did not like this. A lot.
Yes, it was not pretty.
How did my head explode?
When Lisa told me that since my last biopsy was in the spring, they would just use my cancer tumor. I was confused. What? The cancer tissue procured during the bone biopsy is not good enough? That's when we confirmed metastatic breast cancer to the bones.
Whee.
Back to Lisa.
"No, there might be too many bone particles in it. We'll just use the cancer tumor."
Huh?
What cancer tumor?
Then the light bulb started flickering on. Dang 40 watt bulbs! Makes it hard to process things quickly.
Then it blazed white!
And blew my mind.
They have my original cancer tumor!
She confirmed this very fact.
My breast cancer tumor has been stored in some underground (?), high security (?) vault! There is some dude or dudette who takes care and makes sure nobody accesses my cancer without proper permission. What is this person's title: Tumor Vault Technician?
Yikes!
I had to sign a tumor release.
Okay.
Apparently, according to Lisa, they keep the tumor tissue for 20 years!
Good heavens. The cancer tumor will outlive me!
I just never knew there was a part of me... somewhere out there.... beneath the pale moonlight?
Wow.
Still can't wrap my mind around it. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.
KABOOM.
The light bulb blew.
Again.
*blub, blub, blub, blub, blub*
B.S. No Tumor Vault Technicians were harmed during the production of this post.
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