- My Mysterious Situation

Okay, I am, like, going to, like, totally keep this short. It's 4:29 am as I start to write this and I want to prove that I am capable of saying things in 1,000 words or less. I don't think I've ever done it before but I want to do it now and then go back to bed and sleep until a normal, more human hour.

The problem is that when I get up to go to the bathroom, I have to pass my laptop on the way there. On the way back to bed, I tell myself a little lie. I tell myself I'll just "quickly check my email". From there, I further lie to myself by telling myself I'll just "quickly check what's up on Facebook".

The deception continues. I realize that no human being in their right mind is actually *on* Facebook at 4:29 in the morning, so I distract myself by checking my Site Meter, which tells me how many people have visited my blog, which country / state / province they visited from, and so on.

After my ego is sufficiently stroked (or not) from those staggering numbers (for example, 88 blog visits January 4th, one of the two days Timmy & I were on CTV News, or an underwhelming 18 blog visits on January 1st - but hey, who's counting?), I then start getting this glazed-over feeling and then suddenly, it's, like, noon and I'm still typing furiously and/or staring at the computer screen.

Well, enough rambling and on to the health part of my soap opera, "The Young and the Breastless". I'm also hairless, but I don't think that will fit easily into the title - "The Young and the Hairlessly Breastless"..."The Young and the Hairless / Breastless"....it just doesn't work....

I saw my Oncologist, Dr. Cohen, yesterday and he had some strange news for me. They've been researching my situation and have come to the bewildering conclusion that they aren't sure I ever had SVV - Small Vessel Vasculitis. What's up with that?

I think they're kinda stumped at this point. Some of my symptoms match SVV, but others don't. The team of Oncologists Dr. Cohen consults with doesn't know whether or not my chemo caused the mysterious red blotches on my legs and the horrible joint swelling. They're concerned about kidney damage. Kidney damage? Sheesh!!

Dr. Cohen called other specialists & researched this whole thing & consulted with OnStar & contacted Dr. Phil in Los Angeles and chatted with several Montreal taxi drivers who know everything about everything, and nobody seems to know. Mysterious, eh? (okay, just in case you're not sure, the part about OnStar, Dr. Phil, and the taxi drivers is just a joke, right? You knew that, right?)

So, they've decided to continue the chemo Monday, January 11, and, as Dr. Cohen says, they will be watching me "very closely". Well, somebody has to, I suppose. And it's nice to know people care. It's just one more way I've found to be special; different. And to ever be the center of attention.

This Saturday (don't medical people ever take a break?), I'll have a two-hour bone scan, followed by a yummy tea with a girl I went to high school with and haven't seen since 1976! So that will be a nice reward after 2 hours of lying around in a whooshy machine! The bone scan is to look for other tumours. Yay.

So, Dr. Cohen told me that if, after resuming my chemo, I get those weirdo symptoms again, I should either call him immediately or get myself into Emergency so they can check my vital signs, etc. So dramatic! Always something, eh?

And then there's the Port-A-Cath I had installed. It's not working properly. X-rays show it's properly in place, but they tried to get my blood samples from it yesterday and couldn't get anything. So today, Wednesday, I'll be going in to have a 2 or 3 hour procedure done on it - flushing it out or whatever - as the nurses try to get it functional.

No emergency, because the main reason it was installed (it's just under my left collarbone) was to receive my chemo treatments, and the "in" function is working just fine....it's the "out" function that isn't happening. So no big deal, and the procedure won't be painful (er, I don't think it will, anyways).

I just want to say a word about all this stuff I'm going through: you know, it may look like a lot when you're reading about it, but the truth is, I am not finding this difficult. I know we all have our trials in life, and maybe your trials look terrible to me when I'm looking on from the outside and vice versa, but honestly, I don't even find these things irritating, let alone devastating.

The nurses in Oncology are amazing - very patient, personable and efficient, and you know how I've raved about the Jewish General Hospital, and you know I've bragged about our free health care here in Quebec, so I mean, it's not like I have it all that bad.

I get to go to the hospital and meet people, it gets me out of the house, and if I need a good laugh, I'll go visit Brahms the Colo-Rectal Social Worker - uh, if you don't understand this last one, you need to visit here: http://wwwadventureswendy.blogspot.com/2009/12/ah-brahms.html

And no, I'm not just being brave: that's how I really feel. I am continually struck with the health horrors of others. Cancer patients get a LOT of sympathy in general, I find, because it's a disease I think every one of us fears, and it's prevalent enough that we all think what it would be like if we got it.

Other diseases - like ALS or MS or Crohns or a multitude of other maladies - are just as tough if not tougher and are equally disruptive to normal, everyday life. But I think cancer patients get more attention overall because there is so much media attention and because statistically, more of the "general population" is affected overall by cancer than by other diseases or afflictions, and statistically, we're all more at risk to get cancer than, say whooping cough or malaria.

It's SO uplifting to be getting such encouragement from all of you, and I absolutely love how you guys email me with your kind words, and how you leave comments, and email me to see how I'm doing, but I must say that I often feel for others because their struggles are just as difficult, if not far worse, than mine, yet they may not be getting the same attention or support.

Let's face it: cancer is the "flavor of the month" in terms of health attention. It used to be AIDS, but now it's cancer, and specifically, breast cancer in women, since it is on such a sharp incline.

Well, I think I've gone over my 1,000 words - what do you think? It's now 5:28 am and I'm really wiped. I should go back to bed, but first I'll just check my email...and Facebook....and.....maybe there's something I can look at online....and......

Blessings to you all,

Wendy