I've Had Enough For One Day

One chiropractor visit, one screening mammogram, one diagnostic mammogram, 120 miles driven, and one pair of Capri's with a "suspicious stain." Yesterday was such a lovely day.

(I also found out that my dad had to have unexpected surgery yesterday to remove his gall bladder. Love you, Mom and Dad!)

The chiro visit went fine. The doctor gave me a list of of stretches including a few that were recommended in the comment section. It's nice to know that some of you have tried the stretches already and found them to be helpful.

After the chiropractor, I was on the road to Raleigh for my mammogram appointment. Halfway through the (very fun) process, I asked the technician when the scans would be read. She said that as a rule, screening mammograms are read the following day; if all is well, a letter is sent out the next day. She added that if there were any problems, the patient would get a phone call before the letter arrived.

Then she looked at the screen and said, "Hmmmm."

Don't you just love it when medical personnel say, "Hmmmm?"

Me neither.

After she had "Hmmmmm-ed" for a sufficient period of time she added, "From what I'm seeing here, I can just about guarantee that you're going to have to have additional scans."

Don't you just love it when medical personnel say, "You're going to have to have additional scans?"

Me neither.

I explained to her that I done my best to get my mammogram done before August because our insurance is changing the first of the month and our co-payment and deductible will be higher.

I said, "Is there any way the follow up mammogram could be done tomorrow if I hand delivered the films somewhere today?"

She ran off and made some phone calls and before I knew it, I was out the door with a huge pile of films and reports under my arm. My understanding was that I was to deliver them to a doctor who would look at them and call me back in the morning.

Instead they sat me down in the waiting room. So I commenced to wait.

What I really wanted to was get up and get a magazine (since I am a compulsive reader) but unfortunately, all the magazines were in a basket.

And the basket was on the floor.

Unfortunately, it is very difficult for me right now to bend over; I have to spread out my legs like a newborn giraffe and then lunge forward in as speedy a manner as possible in an effort to decrease the amount of time that my back is in a "stretched out position." It is not a pretty picture.

Since there were other patients around me, I was not real comfortable doing my "baby giraffe, lunging woman" routine in front of them and so I sat and stared longingly at the magazines. And rubbed my aching back. And wondered what in the world the technician had seen on my mammogram. And longed for chocolate.

After about twenty minutes, the nurse came back out and said, "The doctor looked at your films and said you definitely need additional mammograms done on both sides; do you have time for us to do them right now?"

Now what is your first thought when a doctor asks for additional views of an area of your body? You immediately think, "Oh no. They've found something."

Stress, stress, stress.

So far my day had included: Chiropractor visit, back pain, stiff neck, a drive to Raleigh, screening mammogram, a race across the city with scan results, strong desire to lie down and take a nap, and now being informed that there is "something" on my mammogram.

Maybe I should add, "Lie down in the fetal position and suck my thumb" to that list?

To make a long and tiring story shorter (but still tiring), I went through a very thorough round of additional pictures all the while wondering, "What in the world did they see that is requiring all of this extra screening?"

After the technician finally disappeared to show the films to the doctor, I groaningly lowered myself to a chair to rest my aching back. As I sat there in my attractive blue gown, I nervously tapped my fingers and contemplated the unthinkable.

She finally returned and told me that there were suspicious micro-classifications in both breasts, but they were more prevalent on the left. The radiologist said that some physicians might recommend a biopsy on the left side; however, he was comfortable with waiting six months and re-scanning to see if anything had changed.

Great. Just what I need. Mysterious "somethings" in both breasts that I have to wait six months to investigate further?

Oh goody! I was just hoping for more stress!

I have always been an "interesting" case to my doctors in the area of breast health. Over fifteen years, I have had multiple cysts drained, I have had lumps examined, biopsied and/or removed, I've had calcifications biopsied by way of stereotactic surgery, I've been put to sleep for several procedures and surgeries, and I have spent hours and days worrying and waiting on results.

With all of those things being factors in my health, my various doctors have had two ways of looking at things.

The first is this: "Well yes, you have had a lot of 'issues' but since everything has been benign so far, that seems to be in your favor."

The opposite view I've been told is this: "Since your breasts have a habit of producing abnormal, irregular tissue, it's just a matter of time before something that is produced will turn out to be cancerous."

Have a nice day.

Let me just say that by the time I staggered out of the radiology clinic (back aching, head swimming) got back on the loop around the city, realized I was going the wrong direction, got off an exit to turn around and then couldn't find a place to get back on the loop, and then fought rush hour traffic, I was just a wee bit tired. And stretched. And exhausted. And weary.

After I got home, I told my family the whole story, ate dinner and then went upstairs to put on my pj's for an early bedtime.

Much to my horror and dismay, when I took off my pants I happened to notice (right below the "seat" area) this lovely sight.




I obviously sat in some sort of "chocolate conglomeration" at some point in the day. And when that was? I have no idea.

What I DO know is that I sashayed through three waiting rooms (chiropractor and two doctor's offices) and I walked through many halls with many medical people.

I don't even want to guess at how many people saw that "mysterious stain" and I don't even want to guess as to what their guesses were concerning its origin.

Once I saw that stain, I gave up on the day. I flung the pants into the laundry, took two Benadryl, some more Tylenol and collapsed into bed at 7:30.

And I said to myself something Nathan used to say when he was quite small and quite tired. "I've had enough for one day."

Making Martha Stewart Jealous

First of all, thank you for all the kind words you've left in the guest book about my recent ailment(s). I especially enjoyed Sue G's line, "Inquiring hearts want to know." When I read all the comments I couldn't help but think, "They like me! They really like me!" (To quote Sally Field.)

To those of you who suggested I follow up with another doctor soon, I must admit I haven't done that yet. I'm still monitoring things and seeing if they get better or worse.

And for those who are concerned that I have a history of heart trouble since I already have a cardiologist, here's the story on THAT.

I went to the cardiologist a couple years ago when my pulmonologist (who couldn't figure out why I was having lung problems) wanted me to get some heart tests done to be sure the breathing problems were not being caused by any heart issues.

After my appointment, the cardiologist said that the right side of my heart looked bigger than the left side which could indicate I something called ARVD. (Arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia) This is a very cheery little condition which basically means that you could fall over dead at any moment. (If you ever hear stories of healthy athletes keeling over from a heart ailment, many times it is due to ARVD.)

I was sent off--all worried and stressed--to a big regional hospital for an MRI of the heart. And guess what? The MRI showed that the right side of my heart was NOT enlarged after all!

And so with that in mind, I want to stress that I really don't have an "official" history of heart disease: I just have a history of having a cardiologist.

I'm still experiencing a few ongoing symptoms, but as long as I know my ticker is going to keep on ticking (or is it tocking?) I'm not going to get overly excited unless something radically changes.

So that's where I'm at with THAT story . . . again, thanks to everyone for your concern. It means a whole lot.

On another subject, our For Sale sign disappeared again last week for the sixth or seventh time. In the past, it has always shown up again eventually but this time, it hasn't. We're currently waiting for the real estate agent to bring another one by. Even though our house is listed on fifty real estate web sites (bringing us a grand total of two showings) you never know who might drive by and notice the sign and want to see the house. And so this time Steve is going to stick it really deep in the ground and see if that makes any difference.

And speaking of houses, you know how you always see those advertisements in circulars and magazines that show a little family gathered on their back deck with their lovely patio furniture scattered around? Well, we've wanted patio furniture for forever, but have never been willing to part with the money necessary to get it.

A few days ago, as we were coming home from Chick-Fil-A (we went there to harass Nathan and to get milkshakes) I said, "It's such a beautiful evening to eat outside; it's too bad we don't have any patio furniture."

Steve said, "Oh, but we do have some! I'll get it out."

So while I was in the kitchen dividing our two shakes (of different flavors) into several glasses, Steve and Sarah bustled around to get the "patio furniture" in place. And when they were done, they even added a centerpiece lovely enough to make Martha Steward jealous.

See?










Whoever thought a card table and some chairs could provide such a lovely, al fresco dining experience. I felt downright decadent, with our new found luxury.

Our own "patio furniture." Our impressive centerpice. Shared shakes from Chick-Fil-A. An usually pleasant summer evening. Time spent with really delightful people.

Does life get any better?

ER Visit

Thank you for all your kind and concerned words in the guest book concerning my recent dash to the ER. It's nice to have my very own Circle of Caring around me!

I still had some pain yesterday and was kind of "slow," to the extent where I took three naps. (Which is definitely not my usual speed of life.) So whatever is going on is still "there."

Some of you mentioned in the guest book that it might have been heartburn caused by the hot dogs. Hmmm. I've never before been bothered by a hot dog and was told by my ENT (after one of my happy throat scopes) that he saw no sign of reflux damage on my vocal cords.

Others of you wrote that a hot dog can trigger a gall bladder attack. I suppose that's a possibility although I know that gallbladder attacks are many times accompanied by nausea and vomiting which I haven't had. And I HATE the thought of spending more money on a gall bladder ultra sound unless all symptoms are pointing in that direction.

It's such a complex sort of decision to make. When you have chest/left arm/heart pain, the first temptation is to say, "It's heart related." And then the next thing is to think, "Oh, you're just over-reacting; it's probably nothing serious."

And that's what Steve and I did for twenty four hours, vascillated between the serious and the non-serious. But the bottom line is that so many people wait on going to the hospital and then it IS a heart attack and things are much worse for them because they waited so long.

But THEN you also hate to run to the ER for no reason and end up paying lots of money to be told, "You're fine."

Poor Steve. If I'd had a heart attack at the house and he'd said that I'd been having chest pains for a whole day, everyone would have said, "Well, why didn't you take her in earlier?"

But then to go into the ER and have it be nothing, I tend to think, "Well, why did we go in at all?"

Sigh.

I know heart and chest pains can be caused by stress and we've had stress of many varieties over the past months/years. (Some I've written about; some I haven't.)

The past eight months have been especially stressful for me personally, because of having so many things undecided. Everything is in the throes of change--Steve's job, my job, Sarah's school, our house, our neighborhood, our town, our church, our circle of friends, our financial situation, etc. The only thing that is remaining unchanged is Nathan's college.

And, people, that is STRESSFUL!

So I may just chalk this whole thing up to stress and kind of monitor things for a few days; if things stay the same or get worse, I'll take a few more medical steps. But at least I AM assured that I won't drop dead of a heart attack in the next ninety seconds.

And that's always nice to know! :-)

Again, thanks for your concern. I'll do a more "regular" update later in the day.

From Hot Dogs to the Emergency Room

Today I had to tear myself away from all your great entries about your own personal beliefs on hot dog consumption so that I could be escorted to the emergency room by my True Love.

And why would anyone want to visit the ER on a holday? Or any other day?

Well, for the last day or so, I've been having pain in my left arm; last night it started moving into the left chest area. By mid afternoon today, I had been in bed almost all day, hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours and was basically feeling pretty bad. (With the pain continuing to come and go.)

Steve and I argued with each other for a long time as to whether or not we should go in to the ER; he said I should and I said I shouldn't. I did NOT want to think of us having to spend a bajillion dollars (that we don't have) on tests that I may or may or not really need.

Finally at about 2 pm when I wasn't feeling any better, he won the argument. And off we went.

Found out right at first that my blood pressure was 126/67 instead of my normal 90/60. They took 8 tubes of blood, started an IV so it would be ready if I needed emergency meds and then did an EKG, a chest x-ray and hooked me up to a heart monitor for ninety minutes.

Fun, fun, fun.

Steve is scheduled to speak at a church tonight so he called them to tell them what was going on and warn them that he may or may not be able to make it, depending on what happened with me.

After all the tests were completed, the doctor finally returned to my room and said, "I can't see any obvious problems on your tests. That's good news in one way, but bad news because I can't tell you what is causing this pain."

The bottom line is that he wants me to call my cardiologist (I had some heart issues two years ago) first thing Monday and get a stress test set up so that we leave no stone unturned.

In the meantime, I'm supposed to rest and call the hospital if anything changes or gets worse.

So here I sit, with pain in my chest and a perfectly healthy heart. Ain't it grand?

I was supposed to sing in the two morning services that Steve is preaching at tomorrow but he called and cancelled those for me so that I didn't have to "gear up" for anything. Since I'm not eating much and still in some pain, I think my best bet is to set up an early-in-the-evening date with my bed and a book.

Sounds like a plan!

Okay. I don't want to distract you all from the fascinating conversation going on the guest book so feel free to get back to it. I've learned more about hot dogs (and their toppings) in the last 12 hours than I have in my whole life.

You all are downright educational! And entertaining!

________________

Just as I was finishing this update, Steve appeared at the door of my "writing cave" with this tray.



Now you have to remember that he had just rushed home from the ER with his wife and still had to shower and dress before leaving in less than a half hour. Yet he still took time to cook me a mild, easy-on-the-stomach meal. (He even apologized for the apples, saying it was all the fruit we had left in the house and he wanted fruit of some sort on the tray.)

Was that lovely or what?

Yup, I am blessed.

Histrionic Fainting Spells and Another Book Announcement

I think I have decided that I like getting moles removed from my back better than from my front. When they're working on my back, I can't see what they're doing which is much less traumatic. Yesterday, while lying on the surgery table, I could see thread and needles and a scalpel with blood (MY blood!) on it and it was just a bit much.

When I was telling Sarah about it later she said, "Well, why didn't you close your eyes?"

Good question. And the answer is that I am just so doggone curious about everything that I couldn't keep myself from looking. But looking made me kind of queasy. And yet I couldn't stop.

Yep, I know. I'm strange.

It reminds of back when Sarah was in treatment and was scheduled for a bone marrow biopsy. (That lovely procedure consists of drilling holes in both hips and removing marrow.) I got it in my head that it would be very interesting to watch this procedure being done because, once again, I'm curious about stuff!

I was all calm and cool as they started and was feeling quite pleased with myself that I was getting to observe such a fascinating procedure.

Those lovely, fluffy feelings did not last long. Not long at all.

Maybe if they had been working on a stranger, I might have done better. But it suddenly hit me that they were drilling holes into the bones of MY daughter. And on top of that realization, there was some blood visible. And then it occurred to me rather quickly that I had better turn my head and take deep breaths or they were going to have a second patient on their hands.

So at any rate, that was the last bone marrow biopsy I witnessed, although I am proud to say, I did make it out of the room without any histrionic fainting spells. That should count for something, right?

Now for the book announcement.

I had mentioned a couple months ago that Sarah had been invited to write a letter to be included in a book called, "Dear President Obama: Letters of Hope from Children Across America."

Well, the book is now available online through Barnes and Noble and other major online book retailers. I found recently that there were 1000 letters submitted and only about 179 that were used. And one of them was Sarah's!

Here's a brief synopsis of the book:

On November 5th, 2008, journalists Bruce Kluger and David Tabatsky (editor of Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Cancer Book) had a simple idea: to recapture the exhilarating spirit of the 2008 election from the perspective of our nation's children.

They emailed a handful of friends. Those friends forwarded the email to their friends and relatives. In the end, the same infectious enthusiasm that fueled the Obama campaign itself produced the letters and drawings collected here. From every region of the country, from ages four to 18, these kids talk about their hopes, fears, and dreams, and their unchecked excitement about the historic election that took place during their young lives.

In her foreword to the book, TV veteran Linda Ellerbee (Nick News) summarizes the one theme that runs through all of the children's letters: " Kids really get it, " she writes, "And, after getting it, they often want to change it. They believe they can change their world. They understand that citizenship doesn’t start when you’re 18; it starts the day you’re born. They are passionate and they want to participate. And that is the kind of honesty you will find in this book."

Since the company that is putting out this book is much smaller than the Chicken Soup franchise, we get only a very small price break buying the book ourselves. However, we are going to purchase six of them so that if you would really and truly like Sarah's autograph on her very first book, you may purchase the book from us for $25. (includes shipping) Obviously you can get it a bit cheaper online but it won't have passed through Sarah's sweet hands before you get it! (Ordering address is in the right column.)

So that's the latest Smith Book Scoop. Let me just close by saying that we are so very proud of Princess Groovy Chick, a real live published author!

Scary Doctor Report

I have survived my fourth throat scope/stroboscopy in as many months. Yea and hooray!


Happily, my relaxing medicine kicked in and thoroughly did its job; in fact, by the time we left the hospital I was so extremely and exceedingly mellow that I fell asleep almost as soon as we left the parking lot.


I'm still feeling a bit spacey; thankfully though, my hubby and daughter made dinner for me. When I woke up from my second nap after getting home, everything was on the table and ready to go! How nice is that?


Steve and I were both so impressed with the people at Chapel Hill-UNC Medical Center. We were there two hours and only about 10 minutes of that was spent waiting. Usually, I'm at appointments for two hours and only 10 minutes of that time is spent being seen by someone. What a nice reversal.


I started out by spending almost an hour with a speech pathologist who had me do all sorts of unusual things with my voice; she also recorded me and listened to me and asked me all sorts of questions.


And then it was time to be ushered into the Scary Doctor's examing room. Before he came in, however, another doctor made an appearance and asked a few more questions and did a head/neck exam. She earned by undying approval and admiration when she told Steve and me about all the times she has allowed med students to do a throat scope on her to practice. She said, "Yeah, I've had a lot of students who have no idea what they're doing stick this thing up my nose. Lots of fun!" I was in awe that anyone would be brave enough for that and immediately wanted to give her some sort of award.


And then at long last, the Scary Doctor showed up. I liked him as soon as I saw him; he was friendly, personable, cheery and extremely knowledgeable. He asked a few more questions, had someone spray the lovely stuff up my nose and within three minutes (they must have the super-fast numbing spray), he had the long camera/strobe light tube efficiently inserted into my nostril and down my throat.


I was aware of feeling very calm and non-panicky which certainly helped the proceedings quite a bit. And it's a good thing I was feeling calm because this particular doctor was not content to let me just sit there in silence like my local doctor was. For three or four minutes, I had to say words, hum, do la-la-la's and lots of other fun vocal exercises. I don't know if you've ever tried to sing with a camera stuffed up your nose but it is really quite the adventure.


Finally we got to the to the wonderful point in the day where he pulled the big long thingie out and said, "That's it!" I always have this overwhelming urge to hug my doctors when they do that because it is such an incredibly fantastic feeling.

And the results?

Even though he is an outstanding surgeon, he is one of those doctors who looks at surgery as a very last resort. He said the test definitely showed some problems though, mainly that my vocal chords are not closing completely, for reasons he doesn't understand. Also, the vocal cords on either side are not moving in a symetrical fashion. He did see the lesion on the vocal cord that the other ENT had seen but he said that fortunately it was not in a place that would cause problems. However, he said if it ever started to bleed (which is certainly a possibility) then he would need to be notified immediately and would probably do surgery at that point.

But for now he said that the vocal fatigue, hoarseness and loss of the notes from the top of my range are being caused by the two problems mentioned above. The solution? Extensive vocal therapy. He is fairly confident that undergoing the therapy (by a woman on his staff who has a doctorate in vocal performance) will go a long way toward helping to improve my voice.

Of course, he understands that we're dealing with the added complexity of COPD and since singing and speaking require plenty of air, having COPD will probably keep me from making a full recovery.

He also said that many times the medication taken for COPD does damage to vocal cords that cannot be reversed. However, he said that if the medication is making a difference in my lung function than I should continue with it because there's no sense in having good vocal cords if I don't have any air to push through them.

All in all, it's kind of a convoluted, complex situation but the good news is that surgery is not necessary at the moment and he does think that I can get some help with therapy.

For now, I'm just going to take my tired brain and weary body to bed and not think about all of this anymore until tomorrow. I don't know why these visits are so stressful for me but when I get home, I feel a lot like a wet noodle. And this wet noodle is off to bed.

Good night, all! Thanks so much for your prayers and support.

The Week in Review. Sort of.

Oh wait, I can't review a week that hasn't happened yet, can I?

Or can I? This is my blog, after all. If I want to review events that haven't yet happened, I may! I might! I shall! I will! I am! (And other exclamatory words!)

So. On to the "Review."

First of all, because I by no means wish to suffer alone, I will take this opportunity to remind you all of my trip tomorrow to Chapel Hill for a visit with yet another Scary Doctor. This is the doctor who is planning on sticking a camera AND a strobe light up my nose and down my throat.

Why is that I'm not feeling very excited about that?

It will be at least three hours round trip, plus the visit itself so Steve and I will be gone most of the day. However, since I'll be happily full of my relaxing medicine, the whole day will probably just zoom by and I'll just be a perpetually happy camper throughout.

Or, on the other hand, maybe the happy medicine won't do its job and I will end up throwing up all over the Scary Doctor. One never knows.

Stay tuned for this exciting breaking news.

On Wednesday, I get to go back to my dermatologist to have the mole on my chest "re-excised." Or whatever it is they do when they remove it the first time and still don't have clear margins.

So I'm looking forward to cameras up my nose on Tuesday and sharp objects and stitches applies to my person on Wednesday.

Do I know how to have fun, or what?

And speaking of fun, here is Steve staggering under the weight of a pile of insurance statements for Sarah and me from the last several years. We're just trying to do our little part to keep the North Carolinian medical industry healthy.




This Friday, Make-A-Wish has invited its families to the Blue Angels Air Show dress rehearsal. Sarah isn't going to go this time around because she'd have to miss school; also, the last time she went, all the noise from the planes was very distressing to her. But you can bet Steve and Nathan will be there with bells on. And I might even go too; it just depends on whether or not I feel like another outing after the aforementioned "camera up the nose, sharp objects applied to body" outings.

And so there you have it. The Week in Review. Sort of.

Now let me do a "Last Night In Review."

Last night, we had our family portraits done. Snowy even went along and behaved himself rather stunningly. The portraits were provided through an organization called, "The Littlest Heroes Project." This organization provides free family portrait sessions for cancer families by utilizing the talents of professional photographers from around the country who volunteer their time and services. Last night we were paired with Amy from Serenity Photography in Raleigh; she and her colleague, Pam, were delightful to work with. Since (between the two of them) they took about 800 photos, we should definitely get something we like! I'll be posting some of the pictures in the next week or so.

And now I'll go ahead and close with all the exciting breaking news concerning the sale of our house, Steve's new pastoral position, and our move to a new town.

Oh wait. There is no breaking news.

Never mind.

Sigh.