Kit how's it going?

Kit

 

 

https://www.google.com/search?q=kitlbrown.mochaspring@blogger.com

 

 

 

KitHaesloop

Hi Kit

Good evening Kit

http://vip-poezdka.com/wp-admin/maint/instance.php?anyone=wmp1h6ydvn878m



Kit

Important: This email and any files attached are confidential and only intended for the use of the individual or entity to whom they are addressed.
If you have received this email by mistake please delete it and notify us.
Before printing this email think if it is really necessary: The Environment belongs to us all.

Back on Track

I'm happy to report that the hepatitis I had was caused by two medicines that I was taking to help prevent infections. My doctor took me off the first one and I started feeling better but my liver was still having problems. He took me off the second and my remaining symptoms cleared up and I'm starting to feel so much better, like "Hey, I actually feel like I'm in remission, the cancer is gone!".

I'm hoping that this was the last detour from my recovery path that I'll have for awhile. I'm really looking forward to focusing on other things in life besides health issues. With that said, give me a shout if you'd like to go for a run....

Signing off,

Wildwood Diva

No Wonder I'm Tired

Wiki, I agree with you. My thoughts exactly on my current medical news.

It's been 7 months since I finished my final round of chemotherapy and I have slowly started feeling better. I still have issues related to chemo-brain and ovarian failure, along with other body parts that have had to heal or not...I picked up a heart murmur from chemo. That said, I'm getting back on the running trails. In October I ran a fun half-marathon followed by a marathon a week later and a very, hilly marathon in November. Not bad for a chick a few month's out of chemo. I've had more energy than when my bone marrow was 99% cancer and I've had more energy since the chemo knocked me off my feet. However, these past few months my energy wasn't what I thought it should be at this stage of recovery. Too much fatigue on a daily basis and no mojo when I ran, I felt like I had molasses in my veins. In the last month I have had episodes of vomiting, nausea, diarrhea, along with not feeling very good after I ate, some of my lymph nodes enlarged and became painful and my nervous system feels raw. With everything that my body has been through the past few years, it's no wonder that when I have some new symptoms, I worry that it is the leukemia. And being in remission, I was concerned that it was the leukemia coming back.

Well, the good news is the cancer hasn't come roaring back. In fact, my immune system is still two-thirds gone because the chemo drugs obliterated it. Additionally, there is a reason for my random symptoms and my ongoing and increasing fatigue. I have hepatitis. My liver was irritated from the chemo and was clearly under stress during that time period. However, looking at the blood tests of my abnormal liver function, the slope of the line is pretty steep, meaning it has gotten much worse in the last few months. There are many causes for hepatitis and in my case it could be viral, because of all the human blood products I have had over the last 4 years or possibly some careless medical worker infected me with a contaminated syringe or shared medicine vial; it could be drug related, caused by one of the medicines I take to prevent infections; it could be my gallbladder has problems. I'm hoping my hepatitis is because of one of the medicines I take. Obviously, the easiest to fix and to which my doctor has pulled me off one of my daily meds to prevent pneumonia. I have an ultrasound of my liver and gallbladder region on Thursday along with blood tests to hunt for viruses. I also have to have another infusion of human blood products Thursday to boost my immune system. It certainly isn't good news to have hepatitis, yet I'm thrilled it wasn't the leukemia returning, and I'm happy to know there is a reason, so possibly a fix. And besides, I've got a marathon to run in a month!

Wildwood Diva

Medal of Bravery

When I was 6 years old, I received my first medal which I still have. It was a "Medal of Bravery - My Tonsils are Out". In the picture, I'm showing off another medal of bravery. The apparatus which was used for chemotherapy infusions, my port. I'm holding it basically in the position of how it was inserted in me; the large disc was under my skin in my chest and the tubing ran up over my collar bone and into a vein in my neck travelling to just outside my heart. The disc was where a nurse would insert the IV needle for drug delivery. On Monday, December 8 over a year since it was implanted, I had my catheter port removed and none too soon after a scare I had last week (next paragraph). However, the surgeon wouldn't let me keep my "Medal of Bravery - I am a Leukemia Survivor" prize, because he said it was considered a biohazard. Well, I tried to get my Treatment Marathon finisher's medal. At least, I got my finish line photo.

Last Thursday I had a dental appointment for what I thought was going to be a crown fitting. Usually I have to take a mega-dose of antibiotics one hour before a dental appointment, in order to kill the flood of bacteria that are released from dental work. I was out of antibiotics and I also thought, "Oh, doctors over-medicate and I suspect I don't need the antibiotics". Wrong! Instead of a crown fitting, it turns out I had a piece of tooth that had broken off and a little bit of decay that needed to be cleaned up before the filling was put in. No worries, I thought. Fixed, I was on my way. Later that afternoon I started feeling tired and needed a long nap. In the evening, I was wiped out. By the next morning, chills, body aches, and severe fatigue had set in. I knew something was really wrong. I went to the doctor Friday afternoon. He put me on two antibiotics; penicillin and ciprofloxacin. I had an infection from the bacteria released into my mouth which had absorbed into my bloodstream. The risk was that it would go set up on my port and cause serious complications. I got worse before I got better, but the antibiotics took hold by Sunday and I started feeling better in time to have my port removed. Clearly, my immune system still hasn't fully recovered from chemotherapy and I'm still quite vulnerable to infections.

All this said, I'm back to running again, slowly. That is, I have my endurance but not my speed. I've knocked off a couple of marathons this fall and a couple of half marathons. It's hard to explain, but boy does it feel good to be able to run long mileage again. I can honestly say it makes me feel extremely grateful and thrilled to be alive. That is something I don't take for granted!

Happy Holidays,
Wildwood Diva

A Conscious Choice

I am so thrilled to be in remission, that I have actually been able to forget about having leukemia for a bit (there is still .03% cancer in my bone marrow. yet I am considered in remission). I finished chemo in the beginning of June, however, the reality of the devastation of chemotherapy still looms large. I am pleased to have a jawline and svelte neck again, as my tumors have disappeared. Also, my running bras fit better since the golf ball tumors in my armpits are gone. I don't have as much fatigue, even though some days it still feels like I have molasses in my veins. I no longer have to sleep 10-12 hours a night followed by a 2 hour nap during the day. I am 100% better than I was--it is all relative--meaning, I was really sick. That said, I only have 1/3 of my immune system. The chemotherapy wiped out my bone marrow and was extremely hard on some key components of my immune system. So, even though I am in remission, I am still recovering. It could take up to a year for my immune system to bounce back.

I was fortunate to be able to travel to Croatia and Maui recently. When I went to Croatia, my oncologist gave me some ciprofloxacin (it's the serious antibiotic for serious infections--people hoarded it during the anthrax scare) and he told me, "Take this if you get any infection and go to a hospital". Not exactly the "bon voyage" you want to hear heading out on vacation. Well, I did get sick on the way home from Croatia, but was in the States before I needed medical attention (antibiotics for a cold that turned into a sinus infection).

Ok, so what are the real reasons I decided to add to my blog today after such a long hiatus. Well, two reasons, first, I realized people think that I am well with a fully functioning immune system, and second I had a tramatic incident today, which I made a conscious choice to do something about that may have not been so good for my health. On the second matter, to make a long story short, two of my dogs got in a fight today. It turned into a fight to the death battle. My big dog, Mocha, and my cuddly-bug Wiki got into it , with Mocha having the upper hand. Mocha clamped down on Wiki's throat and was suffocating her. I could hear the gurgling from Wiki, as she struggled to breathe. Before I tried to break them apart, I knew I would be putting my own health in jeopardy. Do I do nothing and let Mocha kill Wiki? Or do I step in and try my best to have a positive impact on events around me? I chose to be involved. Even though, I knew breaking the dog fight up might not be good for my health (I got 3 puncture wounds on my right hand, had x-rays and a tetanus shot, now on antibiotics, and need an immune boosting IV infusion to help fight the potential infection), I could never have lived with myself, if I had done nothing. And let me guess, you are right now saying to yourself, "Well, I never would have done that!". So, let me ask you, How often do stand on the sidelines and let things happen? Well, all I can say is---This is the only chance you get at this life! Make choices that make you feel good about being alive. That is what I have chosen to do; Live a full life with no regrets.

And if you're wondering, both dogs and me are fine. Mocha suffered a few bite wounds, but did not do any damage to Wiki. I think I got the worst of the bites, but I will heal.

Burning bright,
Wildwood Diva

My Prize - Complete Remission

I started this Treatment Marathon in November 2007. I finished the last of the medical tests July 2008. I have crossed the finish line exhausted, a bit beat-up in body and mind, but I am thrilled to say I won the prize I was after...more life. I am in Complete Remission!!!!

The final series of tests which included a bone marrow biopsy and CT scans indicated that with the medical criteria used for CLL, I am in Complete Remission. That doesn't mean cancer-free or cured, but it means the force and intensity of the leukemia symptoms and suffering I have endured will be gone. How long? I don't know, but hopefully years. What matters is today. And today, I am in Complete Remission!

In the meantime while I rejoice and pinch myself in disbelief, I have some recovering to do. My immune system was trashed by the chemotherapy. It did what it was supposed to do and killed the cancer cells, but it got a whole lot of healthy cells in the process. I have to be diligent about not getting infections which could make me dangerously ill. It may take anywhere from 6 months to a year for my immune system to recover. I still have to get immune boosting IV infusions to help fight infections until my immune system is restored. I will also have regular blood tests and check-ups with my oncologist to monitor my remission status. I will do my part in continuing to help my body to heal and be strong. And yes of course, there will be many more marathons (running, that is!) in my future.

As I write this last blog entry for hopefully what will be a long, long time, I want to thank everyone for your support and love. I survived and thrived because of your prayers, positive thoughts, hugs and warm embraces, meals, car shuttles, company while I was getting chemotherapy, emails of encouragement, phone calls to check-in, text messages to make me smile, firewood stacking, evites to events that I couldn't attend but made me feel good that I wasn't forgotten, runs with me when I could barely put one foot in front of the other, for caring enough to listen to my struggles with cancer and chemo, swimming my big dog Mocha for her arthritis therapy, funny emails to pick up my spirits, generous gifts, sharing your life stories so I wasn't abandoned to a world of cancer symptoms and chemotherapy side effects, and for being in my life because you are what makes my life worth living and fighting for. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

On to new adventures,
Wildwood Diva

It's Perfect

My oncologist called me today. "I have to talk with you about your Flow Cytometry". I was filled with dread, since I had just had an appointment with him yesterday and he had said it would take several days for the test results. I thought, surely, it couldn't be good news. "It's perfect", he said. "It's perfect". Timidly I asked, "What does that mean?" "It means you have zero cancer in your blood". I was shocked into silence. "It's perfect", he repeated, smiling into the phone. I asked a couple of questions about the bone marrow biopsy I have yet to do. He believes the blood test is more sensitive, but we need to do the bone marrow biopsy to be certain. I asked if I could be happy now about the news. He said that I could start jumping up and down. Again, to quell his disbelief as well as mine, he repeated, "There's zero cancer in your blood. It's perfect."

As I write this I am still in disbelief. I walked around in silence with myself for over an hour when I first got the news, trying to incorporate the hugeness of the test results. Seven years ago almost to the day - July 11, 2001, I was diagnosed with CLL. I have had this dragon breathing down my back, taking pieces of my life away and making me extremely ill the last few years. And now today, I am told that I have zero cancer in my blood. I've lived with knowing that I have an incurable cancer with no possibility of remission. However, today I'm beginning to believe I just won the lottery that matters; the lottery of getting a remission, the lottery of the gift of life. As I sit in silence with my thoughts and feelings still mulling things over, I think I will borrow my doctor's words to describe how I'm feeling about life right now, "It's perfect". And you know, it really is.

Battle Scars

Simply because I've finished chemotherapy doesn't mean everything is easy, back to normal minus the leukemia. Granted I'm early in the recovery process, but even I had to be kicked in the teeth to be reminded that my body is far from normal. A few days ago I thought I'd go for a 30 minute run. Everything was feeling ok, so I thought it would be good to work up a sweat to help detox. Well, about half-way through the run my abdomen started screaming. I had to stop and double over to try and get the pain to stop. I was with a friend so I didn't want to walk all the way back. We ran it in and I paid for it with 48 hours of excruciating pain in my abdomen. The pain is still there, but I'm not having to take handfuls of pain meds anymore to be able to tolerate the pain. Running is off the docket for a bit longer. I don't need to have that experience again.

The chemo drugs beat up my joints, ligaments and tendons causing pain and weakness. For example, I have to focus when I pick up anything to keep my wrists straight. They are so weak that they immediately bend backwards adding to the pain. And I'm not talking heavy things. I'm talking a cup of coffee in my favorite mug.

I didn't lose my hair, but my normally silky hair has the texture of straw. The benefit is that can I actually get my hair to stand up in all kinds of directions without any product and it looks thicker even though it has thinned some from the chemo.

Did you know that some chemotherapy drugs can cause people to be sterile? Well, in women that means menopause. This last round of treatment was what broke the dike and overloaded my system. In addition to having treatment side effects, add onto that hormonal side effects of my body being thrown into immediate menopause. Hot flashes overlaid on top of the chills from the chemo, not fun. I hear a collectal cheer from the women like "Yay, no more periods". Actually, menopause is not a good thing for women, because it causes a woman's body to age faster. So, gals change your view about your monthly cycle. My situation might be a temporary menopause and I'll recover or it might be permanent. So, I've got chemo-brain and off-the-charts PMS. Lovely. Poor Dan, having to deal with me.

I could go on with the battle wounds, but I'm hoping most will go away and not be permanent issues. Besides the physical battle wounds, chemo had an impact on my psyche. I thought having leukemia changed me. It did. But going through the intensity of chemotherapy, changed me. I'm still sorting through things and looking forward to more time to live life to the fullest.

Finished with Chemotherapy

I can gratefully say that I have finished the 6th and final round of chemotherapy. I'll have a series of tests in July and August to determine how well the chemotherapy worked. I'm not whooping it up, because it hasn't sunk in that I'm finished with chemo. I suspect in about 3 weeks when I'd be thinking about the next round, it will hit me that I'm finished. Then I'll start celebrating.

A number of people have said to me, "Wow, it went so fast." Yes, time goes fast. However, for me, chemotherapy did not feel like it went by fast. It was painstakingly slow. The week prior to the next round of chemo, I would start dreading what I had to go through during chemo and the couple weeks after as the chemicals wreaked havoc on my body. So, No, chemotherapy did not go by fast, but Yes, I'm so glad that I'm done.

Prior to my final round of chemo, my oncologist said to me, "I never thought you'd get this far." I didn't ask him what he meant by that. Perhaps, he thought because I was so sick during the first few rounds of chemo, that my body wouldn't tolerate the full 6 cycles. Or maybe, because I started getting increased infections, the treatment might have had to be stopped because my immune system was so beat up. Or maybe, as in what happened to a friend of mine, the chemotherapy actually causes the cancer to start growing faster, and it could have sent me spiralling downward to death. But I suspect the real reason might have been that I'm so ornery that my doctor worried that I might have said, "Enough. I can't tolerate what chemo is doing to my body. No more." Ok, I admit, I may be ornery, but I'm definitely not stupid and I knew I needed all 6 rounds of chemo to have a chance at a remission.

Now I'm in recovery and rebuilding mode. In addition to my immune system being pretty much decimated, I am now out-of-shape from being inactive for 7 months, I have various aches & pains from the drugs, my liver is stressed along with other internal organs, and my fatigue levels are still sky high. So, the way I figure it, as I said in a previous post, "I have today." And today I am Oh so happy to have survived (literally) chemo.