Friday, June 24, 2011

A New Course


It's June 7th, 2011, departure day. I was leaving my hospital room... My accommodation during the past few days. It affected me. The staff at the Florida Hospital had been beyond amazing. Their ability to narrow down the illness and diagnose the leukemia in a timely manner [four days] was eminent. The quality of care and being sensitive composed the essence of this medical team. They had the ability to make me feel like I was in great hands. I trusted them.
*
It was a signal of the hand at 4am from nurse Kelly that lowered my spirits. I was acknowledging the parting. Managing to swallow, I still felt that knot in my throat. We were evacuated by the medevac team. I was on a stretcher with Adam by my side. As we turned the corner, on the 7th floor, I noticed something. I'll forever remember two pictures hanging on the wall. They were endearing. The first photo had footsteps in the sand and the second had a beautiful beach view. My thoughts were specific "Once I'm healed, I'd love to find those same pictures". Even if it meant that I'd revisit the 7th floor and take pictures of them. Full of influence, those pictures restored my confidence. Everything was gonna be okay...
*
We got on an elevator. The mask I was wearing covered half of my face and that was disappointing. I wanted to share a smile at my husband. Instead, I vocalized it and said: "I'm smiling at you babe" and winked at him. He winked back as we held hands. I was loaded into the ambulance and off we went to the Daytona Beach airport. On board, I scanned every inch of the vehicle. It was equipped with out of hospital medical instruments to transport sick or injured patients. I was the patient...
*
The doors at the rear of the ambulance opened. I took a first glance at the small medevac aircraft. I remember thinking "all of this for me..?!". Riding in patient-care vehicles all day felt so unfamiliar. Looking up at my husband, I could see the fear in his face and feel the pain in his heart. We weren't at ease at all and had a lot of "out-of-the-ordinary" emotions. A quick change of stretchers, then secured with straps and loaded into the aircraft. It was crewed by two staff members with medical qualifications who provided care, two pilots and my loving Adam. No space to move. The time was 5:30am and the sun was still below the horizon. We started taxiing on the runway and in no time, we were airborn. During the flight, I looked over at my husband. My heart shattered to see that he had buried his face into his pillow to cry. I never wanted nothing more than to comfort him and hold him tight... to relieve all his anxieties.
*
We cleared custom in the air. A call had been dispatched because the response team was waiting for us. "Here we go again", I thought as another patient-carrying ambulance waited to attend and transport us to the Dr. Georges-L.-Dumont University Hospital Centre.
To be continued...

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Control

A few hours later [June 6th, 2011], as I sat in my bed, I realized that I had no control over the diagnosis. That had been concluded. I had no control over the treatment of this disease, the medicine and the hospital isolation that I was about to face. So, I lowered my head and looked towards the floor, away from seeing worried faces in my hospital room. I knew I could exercise direction over something. Now, I needed to figure them out and fast. It occurred to me that I needed to shift the dark world that I had been placed in and immediately bring light to it. I was on a serious mission to find my sunshine. Right away thoughts of things I could actually control started coming to mind. I was becoming my own inspiration. I was providing myself strength without even realizing it. I became uplifted in more than one way, mentally, emotionally, morally and spiritually.
*
On the basis of control, I knew I could command myself to do positive things like smile and laugh as much as possible. I could eliminate and/or deal with negative thoughts and fears in my head. I could choose what I ate. I could prevent a bad moment from lasting the whole day. I could spread and make felt my force and energy to win this fight. I could share my story. I...could still make decisions! And that made me feel powerful along with feeling sufficient strength to reach remission.
*
Arrangements were being made that day for our flights to Canada. The healthcare insurance company which covered my expenses in Florida had quickly reached it's limit and needed me to be medically evacuated soon. I was dealing with so much and now I was squeezing in the fact that this was a timely and efficient movement that was gonna take place the next morning at 4am. I was going to receive en route care on a medevac aircraft with medical personnel by my side. Everything was revolving rapidly. We were making decisions at the blink of an eye. My head was whirling with thoughts. This departure meant leaving our home, our place of comfort, for an undetermined amount of time. It affected me. What served as a source of comfort was that we would return and be happier than ever. I could feel it. I could imagine it.
*
My immune system was very low. My white blood cells which produce antibodies to respond and fight infection wouldn't be able to destroy bacteria. Therefore, the lack of protection forced me into isolation. This meant in no way I could leave the hospital room. No going home to pack my belongings. Occurring only in my mind, I had to prepare my personal items in a suitcase. This was done over the phone with my husband and friend who shuffled through our house, gathering what I told them to bring. That aspect was challenging. We managed and got the job done.
*
To be continued...
Sincere thanks to family and friends who were there for us in Florida. We couldn't have done it without YOU!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The Diagnosis


June 6th, 2011 is a calendar date that rings in my head. I woke up early that morning for 5:30am blood tests. Luckily, I was able to fall asleep again for a few more hours of Zzz. Adam had spent the night at our house, only a few minutes away, with my parents and our dog Shadow. [Shadow who had been acting differently over the past week. For example, she would take her naps in weird areas like in our walk-in closet?! I've heard before that a dog knows and I truly think Shadow knew something was wrong with me.] I woke up around 8:30am that morning just in time for my breakfast. I ate and watched TV, waiting for Adam and my parents to arrive. It was a few hours later that my hospital room door opened and in walked Adam. The feeling was off. Of course I was really happy to see him but his face seemed like it had a deficient in color and his body was moving towards me lacking comfort. I said "Hi babe!". He said "Hi babe!". Even that felt like it had resistance. He climbed into bed with me and held me close. I immediately felt physical comfort. He proceeded to tell me exactly how much he loved me, what I meant to him and how wonderful I was. It was nice to hear it all. However, in the back of my mind it was like I was waiting for the flip side of all the amazing things he was telling me. Then it happened. My husband's words were "You have cancer". Tears started rolling down my cheeks and I placed my head on his shoulder and we cried together in total devastation. I felt emotional pain that can't be described and knew Adam was in pieces.
*
One week my husband and I are on the boat with our dog Shadow and the next week, a full 360 wrapped with unhappiness, pain and deep sadness...
*
To be continued...

Monday, June 20, 2011

The Journey Begins...


On June 6th, 2011, I was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia. A day that I will never forget, a day that started a journey that I had not planned. It all began when I noticed that my heart was racing during regular activities like doing chores around the house. Thursday June 2nd, I wondered when this "bug" would leave my body. Little did I know that it was aggressively settling in. I would take 3 long 2hr naps during the middle of the day?! Just couldn't pull myself together to do anything. I was all too weak and tired. At one point, I tried to fold 3 t-shirts and my body wouldn't have it.
*
Friday morning, I opened my eyes thinking: "It's gorgeous outside, it's gonna be a great day!". At rest, my body felt normal. I got up and felt my heart race. I thought 'no big deal' and jumped in the shower. But then it really hit me.. What in the world was going on with my body. It took all of my energy to shampoo my hair. My heart was racing so fast that it was giving me chest pains. I felt light-headed, I was seeing spots in my eyesight and had a toxic taste in my mouth. Not a good sign. I got down on my knees and gasped for air. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I told my husband that I just couldn't understand my body. Why wasn't it functioning like before. On my knees, I rinsed my hair and that was it for the shower. No conditioner, no nothing. I wrapped a towel around me and walked to our bed. I laid on it for a few minutes to give my heart a chance to slow down.
*
Adam had cooked breakfast. I got dressed and walked towards the kitchen with both hands on my hips, trying to retain as much energy possible. I felt like I had taken our dog Shadow for a long walk but that wasn't the case. It was only a short distance to the table. Feeling weak, I sat down holding my head in one hand and ate with the other. Once done, I wanted to go make our bed with the help of my husband. This task was completely out of the question as my heart started racing and I felt it pounding hard. I felt weak and lightheaded again so I got down on my knees to catch my breath. Breathing deeply, I told my husband that I was absolutely exhausted and was gonna take a nap. It was a very long nap, two and a half hours. When I opened my eyes at 2:30pm, my husband immediately said "that's it, we're going to the hospital". I could only say "ok". Deep down, I knew something was wrong.
*
I pulled my knees to my chest and rested during the drive to the hospital. As we parked, I thought to myself "well, here we go...". I was finally gonna get a prescription to make every symptoms go away. The walk from the parking lot to the ER was challenging, heart racing, pounding pulse, nauseous, weak and lightheaded. As I reached the reception desk, I folded my body in half to gather my strength and lower my heart from beating so fast and hard. That helped make the chest pains go away. Deep breaths.. The volunteer registered my case and said "Chest pains?!, you're way to young to have any of that". The comment was ignored while I focused on catching my breath and calming myself. Adam and I sat in the waiting room at the Florida Hospital Memorial Medical Center for maybe 5 minutes. They wasted no time calling my name. I got up and followed the nurse into a little room. A long list of questions were asked and the next thing I knew, I was laying down on an examining table plugged to an ECG machine. [A machine that I had become very familiar with since I was studying to become a clinical rep for Boston Scientific]. I was then transfered to another examining room. There, they took chest x-rays followed by several blood tests. My mind tried to figure out what could possibly be doing this to my body but no answers were coming to mind with the symptoms I was having.
*
My blood results came back showing that my blood was extremely low. The nurse, who was all to cute with a pretty flower in her hair, said that I needed blood transfusions...four bags! I cringed. FOUR BAGS rang really loud in my head. I never ever had a blood transfusion. That thought was not settling well with me at all. I hoped that there was another option. I didn't want unknown blood injected into my body. I proceeded to tell the nurse my health history which included a life long of having low blood. I didn't want them to make a mistake and give me blood I actually didn't need. I was trying hard to convince her that it was totally normal for my blood to be low. She looked at me straigth in the eyes and said "you're blood levels are dangerously low and we will start the transfusion now". I swallowed hard and said okay. I signed all the forms and we got started. There I went again with my "are you sure it's good healthy clean blood?!". She reassured me of all my concerns, that the blood had been checked and matched to my blood type several times. She also went on to tell me that I will be staying in the hospital overnight. Another thing that had never happened to me in my life. She explained that my room would be ready around 8pm. I took deep breaths. This was a lot to take in all at once. She added that one bag of blood would drip for 3 1/2, therefore 4 bags would take about 14hrs. I swallowed and listened.
*
Once transfered in the hospital room, I felt tired. The nurse, Kelly, explained that I was in isolation and that everyone must wear masks around me. This was because my immune system was below normal levels. I understood. She repeatedly visited my room during the night to take my blood pressure, my oxygen, my temperature, my heart rate and listen to my lungs. I was being monitored closely to make sure I wasn't gonna have reactions to the blood. My husband spent the night with me, always by my side.
*
Saturday, June 4th was an early morning. They rolled me down to the CT room around 5am for chest and heart images. Then a whole new series of blood tests, lots of vials for a variety of tests. After the blood transfusions were complete, the nurse said that the doctor was gonna come see me. I was looking forward to asking him "what's wrong with me??". I had breakfast and a few hours later, I was brought down again to the CT Scan for lower abdomen digital images. They wanted to cover all parts of my body. We got a nice visit from our friend Dr. Crossman. He was the first to really put it into perpective for me exactly how dangerously low my blood was when I got to the hospital. That afternoon, I received platelets and the news that my parents were flying to Florida that very night.
*
Later that day, in walks the hematologist/Oncologist Dr. Michael Kelley. I was happy to see him. I was finally gonna be able to ask all my questions and get answers. He was the sweetest man with a calm soft voice. We exchanged questions and answers. Then, the news.. I needed a bone marrow biopsy. I broke down. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I couldn't believe I need that procedure. I was scared and upset.
*
Sunday, June 5th was "bone marrow biopsy" day. Dr. Kelley allowed Adam to stay by my side while he performed the procedure in my hospital room. Once it was over, a huge relief lifted from my shoulders. It was done! Later that afternoon, I received another bag of platelets and a series of blood tests. The rest of the day was spent visiting with friends and family.
*
To be continued...