Where it truly started

gofundme.com/srcbennett-funding

Continuing story in the hope some small part may be useful to others.

62 yr m. MM4yrs. BMT. Dazzled protocol maintenance.

Not chronological. Not sequential. Sometimes informational. Not always personal. Always truthful.

Encounters: Beginning

Cancer. A diagnosis is like getting the worst job you never applied for. Career of last choice. It’s the job you take cause there’s no other. It’s the job you hate and you know nothing about. It’s the job you take so you don’t end up under the overpass. It’s the job that wears out the snooze button cause you want nothing more than to sleep. The payoff is huge but the work sucks. It’s one of those dirty jobs, like on TV. And no one tells you Overtime is required.

The first year is full time, on call, with lots of waiting. Appts can be anytime, 24/7. And can last for hours. It has to start somewhere. For us, it really started at UU Hospital, Neurology Center. I had an appt (don’t remember why?). Probably for some kind of MM related scan.

I was in such severe pain my son in law had called ahead to let people know we were headed up and could they be ready. In the car. All I could do was lean into the crook of my elbow while my daughter sped to the hospital, crying, moaning at every bump and turn. In the miasma of pain all I could do was wait and suffer the ride.

Protocol dictates that intake has to happen before any medical procedure takes place other than vitals. I was not just in tears I was bawling like a newborn due to pain. Not sure how I can describe it. Never have I felt this pain. A blowtorch under the shoulder while someone else is pounding spikes through it. It was immobilizing pain. I was Heads down, not moving. My daughter was running up and down the hallway yelling for help. Literally. My body was cracked crystal. Move? I’d be shattered into millions of pieces, each one screaming.

I was asked to move. Can’t you see I’m dead here? I’m not moving at all until someone removes the pain. All this was in a shower of tears and screams. This was a universe where pain had gone to a level unknown. Finally after 3-4 hits of Demerol I could move. So much pain meds I had to be reminded to breathe. Slowly. Carefully I started to move. Still in intense pain but relatively speaking finally present and immediately conscious.

Cancer seems to have made a pact with Pain. Talking to people inevitably it’s like nothing else. In addition, it’s all too often chronic. Fortunately doctors and regulators understand this so pain management is a high priority. That’s the upside. Downside: now your fighting chronic pain under the influence. This in itself is a whole management issue. It’s a tricky issue and can take months to resolve. For many, this aspect of MM is something unseen by others but quietly affecting you. Fogginess. Fatigue. Can’t think. Constipation. Sleepiness. Clumsiness. You have to add a whole slew of medications just to deal with this. Being under the influence has a whole new meaning. And still the pain resides.

Back to the story. Apparently, and I just then found this out, an MM lesson the size of a tennis ball had split my right shoulder blade in two! Split! Never have I had a broken bone. Then and there I started wondering if this was going to be life from then on. Over the months I was in pain constant, sometimes severe and immobilizing. (When I saw gofundme.com/srcbennett-funding

Encounters: Beginning – 5 posted

A Cancer diagnosis is like getting the worst job that you never applied for. Career of last choice. It’s the job you take cause there’s no other. It’s the job you hate and you know nothing about. It’s the job you take so you don’t end up under the overpass. It’s the job that wears out the snooze button cause you want nothing more than to sleep. The payoff is huge but the work sucks. It’s one of those dirty jobs, like on TV. And no one tells you Overtime is required.

The first year is full time, on call, with lots of waiting. Appts can be anytime, 24/7. And can last for hours. It has to start somewhere. For us, it really started at UU Hospital, Neurology Center. I had an appt (don’t remember why?). Probably for some kind of MM related scan.

I was in such severe pain my son in law had called ahead to let people know we were headed up and could they be ready. In the car. All I could do is lean into the crook of my elbow while my daughter sped to the hospital, crying, moaning at every bump and turn. In the miasma of pain all I could do was wait and suffer the ride.

Protocol dictates that intake has to happen before any medical procedure takes place other than vitals. I was not just in tears I was bawling like a newborn due to pain. Not sure how I can describe it. Never have I felt this pain. A blowtorch under the shoulder while someone else is pounding spikes through it. It was immobilizing pain. I was Heads down, not moving. My daughter was running up and down the hallway yelling for help. Literally. My body was cracked crystal. Move? I’d be shattered into millions of pieces, each one screaming.

I was asked to move. Can’t you see I’m dead here? I’m not moving at all until someone removes the pain. All this was in a shower of tears and screams. This was a universe where pain had been gone to a level unknown. Finally after 3-4 hits of Demerol I could move. So much pain needs I had to be reminded to breathe. Slowly. Carefully I started to move. Still in intense pain but relatively speaking finally present and immediately conscious.

Cancer seems to have made a pact with Pain. Talking to people inevitably it’s like nothing else. In addition, it’s all too often chronic. Fortunately doctors and regulators understand this so pain management is a high priority. That’s the upside. Downside: now your fighting chronic pain under the influence. This in itself is a whole management issue. It’s a tricky issue and can take months to resolve. For many, this aspect of MM is something unseen by others but quietly affecting you. Fogginess. Fatigue. Can’t think. Constipation. Sleepiness. Clumsiness. You have to add a whole slew of medications just to deal with this. Being under the influence has a whole new meaning.

Back to the story. Apparently, and I just then found this out, an MM lesson the size of a tennis ball had split my right shoulder blade on two! Split! Never have I had a broken bone. Then and there I started wondering if this was going to be life from then on. Over the months I was in pain constant, sometimes severe and immobilizing. (When I saw the oncologist outside 6 months later he actually remembered me. Why? Because even he had never seen someone in such pain!!!!). Fortunately, Huntsman knows how to handles pain. They understand pain needs to be managed so one’s life can go on. From day one, I never once had to fight for pain management. MM eats your bones. Bone pain is the worst. It has to be handled.

Grace and love

Sam

Author: sonorasam

Love cats. Gadgets. Reading history, physics, Natural History to Brian Eno. Enjoy Politics to keep my sense of humor sharp. Play country blues guitar. Amateur photographer of bugs. Think I can write (like all of us do). Mountains, Deborah, Everett keep me sane for the most part. Love the Internet, this wild, crazy, frontier that informs, democratizes us. Never thought I would be witness and participant in a culture and world changing technology, but here I am.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s