Every Week it's Something New....Let's Change That!

Last Wednesday, Nurse Paula came to visit me as usual and to drain my pleural cavity.  Everything was going fine and she had no problem getting a liter of fluid out of me.  It did alarm me to see that my pleural juice was a red color.  It reminded me of Washington apples.  That morning, I had woken up with a minor cough and I thought nothing of it.  I just reminded anyone that was planning on visiting me to make sure they were healthy with no illnesses like the flu since my immune system is low and I can't afford to get sick.  After Paula was done draining me, I started to cough. This is normal, as the lung is expanding back into its place.  I was just coughing up clear phlegm over and over.  I couldn't stop it.  I kept holding onto my chest as if I was going to cough up my lungs.  When things seemed to quiet down, Paula had me take an Ativan and I laid back in my bed and tried to meditate to calm myself down.  With it being Wednesday, Dr. R was not in the office so Nurse Paula left a message with NP Kelly about her concern with my cough.  It really wasn't a pretty view.

My red pleural juice.

Nurse Paula packed her things up and I went to sleep since the Ativan has that affect on me.  Later on, NP Kelly called me back and set up an appointment to see her the following day and also to go to radiology and have a chest x-ray done.  I was feeling weak from coughing so much.  I have no energy as is and my appetite was now non existent.  My mom and my sister would try to get me to eat but I just had no desire.  I gotta tell you, it's quite annoying being told to eat something because you need energy when you have no appetite and the thought of food is repulsing.  The only thing that I could manage to eat were popsicles and my Ensure Enlive juices.  I was also feeling short of breath so I had to turn my oxygen machine back on and wear that.  I noticed that I would get up and go to the bathroom and by the time I came back to bed I was huffing and puffing, craving my oxygen mask.  I checked my numbers on my oximeter and it was well in the 80's.  The oxygen also calms me down and I can feel my resting heart rate lowering.

Sleeping with my oxygen.

The next day, I had to take a shower and get ready for my appointment.  A year ago, I took a shower every day.  Today, I'm the girl who showers 2-3 times a week.  It's not easy anymore.  I have to cover my midline with my handy garbage bag apparatus that has bungie cords on it, I have to cover my catheter dressing with a sheet of Press 'n Seal and lastly, I'm short of breath!!!  My shower has been modified so I have the removable shower head, I had safety bars added to the shower walls, and I have a nice little shower seat.  I try to make my showers quick so I can get back on my oxygen.  My mom has to help me pick my clothes out, just like back in 1st grade.  Ok, not exactly like that but she has to open my dresser drawers for me and find what clothes I want to wear.  I can't bend over without coughing and feeling pressure in my lungs so anything that require bending I ask someone else to do for me.  I dress in some comfortable sweats and we head on out to Kaiser South San Francisco.  This time, we activate my portable oxygen tanks and I hook up to them.  Getting down my two flights of stairs to get out of my apartment building was a chore, but I made it.  I sat in the back of the car with with oxygen and relaxed during the car ride in. 

Waiting in radiology with my cane and tank.

Walking down the hall to the x-ray room. 

My sister checked me in to radiology and I waited for my name to be called, which took about 20 minutes.  My sister came to the dressing room with me as I was not used to walking with a cane and now my portable oxygen tank.  She helped me change into the gown and then the lab tech took me back to the x-ray room.  He gave me some funky little stickers to place on my nipples, which was a new thing they had started.  Apparently this helps because sometimes nipples get mistaken for nodules.  The procedure took about two minutes and then I changed and headed over to the lab.  NP Kelly wanted to make sure I wasn't anemic.  I dread getting poked with needles.  I am not kidding or being cute when I say I am a hard stick.  Not even a super tech who is awesome at needle poking has been able to poke me on the first try.  There have been a couple recently but my veins have just been killed by the chemotherapy.  The tech puts the tourniquet on my arm and gives me a stab.  She gets blood but it's going to slow so she tells me she has to stop and start over.  Ugh!!!  It always hurts when the needle goes in.  She goes in for another poke and get its.  Again, the needle stick itself hurts but I'm just happy she got blood. 

Nifty nipple stickers from radiology.

Cringing as I'm about to get my blood drawn. 

After it's all over, we head on over to the Orchid Center for my appointment with NP Kelly.  I'm called back, get my vitals taken, and wait.  NP Kelly comes in and shakes my hand.  I really like her.  She is so nice.  She goes over my x-ray with me and there's nothing significant about it.  It does show the pleural effusion which we know about (which is why I get drained 3x a week) and also some congestion.  That's probably why I've been coughing up clear stuff.  I ask her why my pleural juice has been coming out red and show her a picture of it.  She tells me that it can happen because I am on blood thinners and also because it's possible that there is a malignancy in there.  Malignancy means cancer.  It's ok.  My body is full of cancer.  What's a little cancer in my lungs now? My sister tells NP Kelly how I haven't been eating so she asks if I can get fluids.  Great.  This means I'm going to be stuck at Kaiser for a while now.  Kelly agrees and we head on over to the infusion center where Cynthia turns off my oxygen tank and hooks me up to theirs.  She gives me fluid over a period of an hour and a half and also does my dressing change on my midline.  It's been a long day at Kaiser and I'm ready to go home.

Bundled up as I get fluids. 

On Saturday, Nurse Nancy comes and drains my pleural cavity.  She is another great nurse.  We always have a lot of fun sharing and talking.  The pleural juice she drained is also a red color.  I wonder if it will ever go back to being the amber beer color it used to be.

Interestingly, the blood settles at the bottom of an older bottle, revealing the amber color fluid.

Fun times with Nurse Nancy.

I've come to accept that I'm on oxygen 24/7 now.  In my head, this is just cancer taking another part of my functioning body and destroying it.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to breathe on my own and no one can answer that for me.  Going into this battle, I knew there was no cure for me and that my objective was to buy as much time as I possibly could.  I wanted to be one of those people to make it five years out, breaking statistics.  Now that I'm 8 months into my journey, things have progressed so fast thanks to this sneaky bastard that it's hard for me to hold onto hope sometimes.  I've given up on the idea that I'll be here in 5 years.  Not all stage IV cancers are created equal.  Some stage IV cancers are curable.  Some progress very slow.  Some are rare cancers.  I want to get the periwinkle ribbon out there.  We all know what the pink ribbon is.  Unfortunately stomach cancer is usually caught in stage IV when the symptoms present themselves and it's too late.  This is just unacceptable to me.  

According to No Stomach For Cancer:

"Stomach cancers are the FOURTH most common cancer types worldwide, and the SECOND leading causes of cancer death in the world. The American Cancer Society estimates 1 million new cases in the world each year, and more than 800,000 deaths annually. Last year alone, it was estimated that more than 10,000 Americans would die from stomach cancer. 1 in 114 men and women are at a lifetime risk of this deadly disease!"

We've got to change this.  We need to educate ourselves on early detection and what the symptoms are.    We have to find a cure.  Too many newly diagnosed patients are told how much time they have with there loved ones.  That's what happened to me.  I don't know why I got stomach cancer.  But I've fought like hell, putting my body through the wringer, my mind through a roller coaster of emotions, just to be able to buy time and spend it with my family and friends.  I never imagined that I would die at 31.  No husband (not even a boyfriend), no kids...my life was barely beginning.  That's the reality I have to accept.  This happens to thousands of people out there and it has to change.  That is why I encourage everyone to poke around a website dear to me and see what you can do for November, which is Stomach Cancer Awareness Month.

No Stomach For Cancer