Day #4
|
Last day of meds. Thank Heaven!! |
Morning:
Considering that it's meds week, I slept pretty well, got to sleep shortly after 10, and slept until 8. Had some weird dreams, but that's nothing new for a Dex week. I'm still feeling shaky, hotter than usual, more easily annoyed (the dab of toothpaste that someone had left smeared on the bathroom counter this morning was particularly galling--see what I mean about how I'm unreasonable on steroids?), and more prone to discouragement than I usually am. The brain fog is definitely there, and my vision is more blurry than it is when I'm not on meds. All normal-for-me reactions.
Last night after I wrote that ending paragraph, I had a nice hug/cry with Eric (he did the hugging, I did the crying), and then went upstairs to bed. Before I got in bed, I knelt down by my bed for my nightly prayers, and Heavenly Father and I had a little chat about how all this is going. This round is harder for me than usual, and in thinking about it (admittedly, a dangerous thing to do when my judgement is compromised as I know it is now), I think it's because for the first time since the beginning, I don't have the hope that I used to have. When I started this journey, once the initial bad news came (that I had a platelet level of 2), it was almost all good news from there. My body responded well to the hospital IVs, and then again to oral Prednisone. Then, a few months later I relapsed (which was admittedly discouraging), but I was soon put in contact with an excellent hematologist and we started what was to be a 6-month round of Dexamethasone. I tolerated that relatively well (no small thing, from what I've heard), and my platelets responded admirably. Studies had shown that of those people who are able to endure a 6 month course of this treatment, the average amount of "remission" (by which we mean counts that are high enough to not require treatment, not counts that are normal) runs about 15 months. Sadly, I only got 8 months.
In August, when I got back on the Dex, my body responded exceptionally well, and I was hopeful (perhaps naively so) that I would get another nice long break, that this dropping was due to some rather severe bouts of stress that I'd been enduring over the summer. I picked back up on my yoga practice, adopted other strategies to better deal with stress, and hoped for the best.
But, with this drop again, just a little over a month after the last drop, my doctor is intimating that it might be time to look at second-line treatments. Taking high doses of steroids as I do so frequently can cause a whole host of other issues in the body, making so the patient can easily get into a situation where the cure is worse than that disease. Second-line treatments are significantly more expensive than first-line treatments, and that concerns me quite a bit, not to mention the apprehension that comes from something new with new side effects, etc.
So, as much as I try to push all this away and tell myself that it serves nothing to worry about it until we have more information and until I'm in a better frame of mind, it's a tough thing to do, and I don't succeed at it as often as I'd like.
As I laid all this out in my prayer last night, A song came to my mind, a song that I learned in voice lessons back in my college days. It's called "In My Father's House are Many Mansions", and it follows the text of John chapter 14, starting out, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." As I explored that idea a bit in my mind, one word came to me rather strongly. It was trust. I felt (and feel) that I need to focus my energies (what little energies I have right now) on trust. Trust in the Lord, trust that He knows the end from the beginning, trust that He loves me and is with me and with Him all will be as it should be.
I felt peace then, and went to sleep.
Now, to get through another day. It may be tough, and then tomorrow and the next will probably be tougher as my body adjusts to the shock of not getting the huge amounts of meds that it's had, but then it should adjust, and each day should start to get a little better than that day before. I've cleared my schedule today, so after I get done with work, I should be able to rest as much as need be. Also, a dear friend is bringing us dinner tonight--so the likelihood of me eating chocolate chips on the couch again is pretty low. Always a good thing!
Afternoon/Evening:
I left work a little bit early today because I felt so poorly. Came home and took my usual place on the couch, crochet hook in hand. I was able to do a better job this time of keeping my fears under control and keeping my mind from wandering into the paths of "what ifs" and discouragement. Also, I didn't have as bad of a case of the munchies today as yesterday.
I'm noticing an increase in the sensory over-sensitivity that always comes to me with steroids. Any touches, noises, jesting, playing, all kinds of things have been difficult for me today. I've tried to get by with deep breaths and taking my mind away from it all, and I've been mostly successful I think.
So, all in all, a better day today than yesterday. Physically I've felt worse, but mentally and emotionally, I think I've done better. That's no small thing, and I'm grateful for it.