Two Year Anniversary of the Fall

I don't know how much I've ever talked on the blog about the first event in the downward spiral of my health these past two years. Now, my cancer was found in 2000, but the first 4 1/2 years after my diagnosis passed with relative normality. There were invasive tests, doctors appointments, and surgeries, but still I lived a fairly regular life. I worked, I drove, I volunteered and church and in the schools, and kept right on going with the daily grind.

My leg started hurting in December 2003. At first the pain was occasional, and VERY hard to describe. It would start on the side of my leg at the hip, and then rotate to the front of my leg and down toward the knee, where the pain would "stop" and intensify before slowing receding back toward the hip. (I read later that this pain, a sign of cancer in the hip/femur, is called "spiraling pain". That's an excellent description; I wished I'd thought of that.) I told every doctor who would listen, and even visited the ER a few times as the pain worsened over the months. A few pain pills (including Vioxx!) were proffered, but no real relief.

I stopped working in September 2004, for a number of reasons that I will save for another tale (all health-related). By December, I could barely walk. I stopped driving, and only got up to move around when it was absolutely necessary. I tried driving one last time, during Spring Break. I took Autumn and Lacey to Wal-mart (yes, I will risk life and limb to get to Wal-mart) to get some warm-weather clothing. I sat on the floor of the store while they shopped, and I cried all the way home because the pain was so bad. After this, I used a crutch to walk at all.

There was a scene that I can't describe without cringing. I was in the bathtub and my leg "popped" so loud that Don heard it in the next room. I guess my leg actually broke at that time. I didn't go to the ER because -- get this -- it was almost time for the kids to get home from school and I didn't have anyone to keep them. This was a move so utterly dumb that I can't even think about it.

I was sincerely stupid from that point on. When my PCP called to reveal that they had FINALLY got the insurance to approve a referral to an orthopedic specialist IN KENTUCKY, I declined. At the cancer doctor's behest, I had another bone scan that showed "activity" (otherwise known as utter devastation in the making) at the right hip/femur. I had an MRI, and the cancer was found at last.

We were leaving for vacation two days later and, in another unbelievably unwise move, I postponed the beginning of radiation until after our return. One week (June 4, 2005) after we returned from our vacation on Ocracoke Island (a remote place with no hospital, only a small clinic), we were having a cookout in the back yard. Don came into the house, and I followed him -- without the crutch, for some reason. I hit the floor with a thud, my legs twisted under me. Don, afraid to reposition me, called 911.

As the ambulance pulled out of the driveway, I noticed 5-year-old Zach was standing on the hill behind our house. I asked him later if he was scared, and he said, "No, I just wanted to see them carrying your leg." :-)

And so the adventure began. There's much more to the story, of course: the horrible agony, the long wait in the ER for a room to be available, spending the night in traction, the surgery, the doctor's grim report, and learning to live life a whole new way.

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On a side note, I am making great progress on my leg use! I'll save it for another blog, but I am SWIMMING again! It makes me unbelievably happy. I feel so carefree that it almost erases the trauma of the past two years.

Almost.