Another Day

I'm happy to announce that today's blog is not moody. It's basically a boring update on where I am now and where I go from here.

BLOOD COUNTS

Based on yesterday's blood draw, my blood counts are great. My platelets are a little low, and I am low in potassium (but have been for a long, long time). Other than that, both my white and red blood counts are good. Hurrah!

HAIR

This is how I look right now. Kinda scary, huh? My hair is coming out in clumps, and it's getting very thin. Can you see the large tumor sticking up in my hairline? I was doing a "strategic part" to disguise it, but I don't have enough hair left to hide it now. My scalp is dreadfully sore and tender, so much so that I no longer lean my head back on my chair because of the pain it causes. I really should start covering my head, I guess, so I won't scare small children. But I don't want to do it, and besides, it's generally the rude adults who stare at me, not the small children.

CHEMO

So, what in the world do I do about the chemo treatments? My oncologist wants me to continue the current cycle, using only the adriamycin and not the coma-causing ifofsamide (which, BTW, is what I wanted to do in the first place but was overruled by the team of experts). I guess I could do that, but I'm still skittish after the last episode. I just don't know if I can talk myself into submitting my body to another one of those awful treatments. But then again -- what if it's working?

There is, however, another factor that may moot the decision point about the chemo. That is:

BRAIN THING

You may remember me saying after my hospital stay that the MRI shows a small tumor in the lining of my brain. (It is not actually touching my brain -- yet.) Well, what I didn't tell you is that the neurosurgeon there does not think that it is operable. Apparently, it is precariously close to a large blood vessel, and I could bleed to death quickly if it was severed. Cyberknife might be a consideration.

I have an appointment at Vanderbilt on Tuesday, March 18th to get Dr. Weaver's opinion about the tumor. Obviously, if it can be excised surgically, then all chemo would stop until that can be done and I heal completely.

So, there it is -- not a master plan, really, but an overview of what's coming up for me. In the meantime, my strength is improving every day, though I struggle with my appetite and that strange metallic taste. Still, I'm here, and that's no small accomplishment. It's time to make some big decisions, and to enjoy the small things that make living worthwhile.

I hope you're enjoying your blessings, too!

:-) Sharon