1.Two and half weeks ago I got a little ache in my right side. Liver area.
2. Two weeks ago I mentioned the ache to Efrem, my acupuncturist Chinese herbalist. He stuck a needle there.
3. The ache got worse, and six days later I got sick. Abdominal pain/aches, liver area sorer. I felt tired, weak, didn't want to move or eat or walk Olivia anywhere at all.
4. Felt better after a couple of days of misery. Got my appetite back, abdominal soreness slowly went away. But liver area stayed sore.
5. Called Dr. Cowan's office and made an appointment for May 25th after looking up "liver pain" on the Internet.
6. Yesterday went back to see Efrem again, updated him. He confirmed that liver was inflamed, stuck more needles in me, came back at the end of my hour and said: 1) I should have it checked out by a regular doctor, and 2) One possible cause could be the acyclovir that I have been taking for three months non-stop because of the shingles that won't entirely go away. One side-effect of acyclovir can be hepatitis. My eyes widened.
7. Efrem told me to stop the acyclovir. My eyes widened even more.
8. I said, "What if my shingles come back because I stopped it? I'm terrified of getting shingles again, full force."
9. He said, "We'll deal with that if it happens. But I think you need to stop the acyclovir. Increase your lysine." He gave me a dropper bottle of herbal stuff, and some herbal capsules for the liver. As I was standing at the counter paying for the visit, he walked by me, on his way out the door for lunch. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Don't worry. You will be okay."
10. I went home and there was an email from Dr. Cowan (to whom I had sent an email prior to making my May 25th appointment with him, summarizing my symptoms). He said "we need to do lab work and really check this out." I wrote back and asked him about stopping acyclovir. He concurred with Efrem that stopping the acyclovir wouldn't be a bad idea.
11. Next I got a fax from the breast surgeons office, containing the results of my last three tumor marker tests. My heart started to pound, I began to shake all over... before I even looked at the results. Finally, still pounding and shaking, I gripped the paper in both hands, glanced at the results and knew right away that they were way too high.
12. Then I thought, I need to compare them to the last tests, to see if they have gone up, stayed the same, or gone down. Maybe they've gone down a tiny bit? It's the trend that's important, right? Clinging to that thought. I ran to my desk but, after frantically searching for a minute or two, couldn't find the last test results. I pawed crazily through stacks of medical papers and folders, furious that I had not been prepared, did not already have this information at the very top of the pile, at my fingertips. I couldn't believe I couldn't find it. Jack was standing nearby, helplessly watching me storming around, cursing because I couldn't find the earlier test results. But we both already knew that finding them wasn't going to make that much difference.
All three test results are still significantly elevated. The hope that I've had for the last three months was that, after the mastectomy, the markers would miraculously, wonderfully drop back down to normal. The fact that they are still elevated almost certainly means that the cancer has metasticized to "a distant place," but no one yet knows where that place is. My guess is that this will mean more Big Tests, such as CT Scan and bone scans.
13. This Thursday, day after tomorrow, I have a phone consultation already scheduled with Doc Renneker, during which he will lay it all out for me, no holds barred: what this means, what my options are, etc. I'm used to this scenario by now, and I am grateful that I have Renneker, who helps me keep the panic at bay.
14. I am also grateful that I have Efrem and Dr. Cowan. And of course Jack. That goes without saying.
15. My liver area still hurts today, but I know I need to give it more time to recover. I hope it was the acyclovir, but I also know that it could be due to something else, something worse. But why focus on that? Why not do my damndest to keep the following frame of mind: I will wait and see. I will not speculate. I will not attempt to imagine seventeen different possible scenarios. I will just stay here in the moment. I will finish this post, and then I will do the normal, simple, usual things that I do every day, including writing a non-cancer post, if I can muster the energy/make the time, in my other blog, My.Third.Eye.
Damn it. I've been out of town for a few days. I'm so sorry to read this. Would a few hours of support on Tuesday afternoon help in anyway? I could come by mid-afternoon. Let me know.
Posted by: Jeff Kennedy | Sunday, May 23, 2010 at 10:40 AM
Hugs.
Posted by: Jennifer D. | Saturday, May 22, 2010 at 08:54 AM
Sending positive thoughts, wishes, and hopes your way. Try to find some calm within.
Posted by: Heather | Thursday, May 20, 2010 at 08:44 PM
Love the name,"Nutshell". Fits perfectly. Thank you so much for update. I know it may sound trite, but so many possibilities,..... Hang in there Jane. So many sending love. So many.
Posted by: Jay | Wednesday, May 19, 2010 at 09:00 AM
You are my role model.
Posted by: linda | Wednesday, May 19, 2010 at 08:32 AM
Dear Jane,
WOW! Lot happening for you! Certainly will keep you in our prayers!!! If tis is not the right place for me to respond, please let me know.
Love and prayers,
Lynda
Posted by: Lsgooszen | Tuesday, May 18, 2010 at 11:17 AM