Because Stage 4 Cancer Isn't Enough-Part 3

     I did my best to present Part 3 as concisely as possible.  I am aware that my family and friends, who have been incredibly supportive to me, may be approaching the point of "Luna Fatigue".  As exhausting as my health complications have been to me, I see that supporting my recovery is taxing to them, too.  

Our Conversation with Dr. R., (my first surgeon):
          -Several days after my second, reconstructive, surgery, Dr. R. came to my hospital room.  It was around 7pm and Wynn was with me.  We had looked forward to meeting with him.
           -One of the reasons I chose Dr. R. as my surgeon was because he has a gentle manner.  Although that night he did not say the words, "I'm sorry,"  his demeanor was that of contrition.  Appropriately so. Whatever he said to us that night, it has been enough for me to work toward finding my peace with his mistake and doing my best to move forward.  I realize that I not only need to heal physically, but emotionally as well. 



Coming Home:

Compliments of Nathan

           -...required a lot of prep.  Wynn and Nathan made arrangements for a hospital bed (and wheelchair) to be delivered and moved furniture around to create a bedroom area for me on our first floor.  They stocked the 'frig with my 'usuals & favorites' and equipped the bathroom so it is accessible for me.  I was so relieved to return home and felt so welcomed. 


Current Therapies:
          -Because I had three surgeries so close together, with subsequent complications, my incision is having difficulty healing.  So, twice a week I am seen at a wound care center.  For the past month I've had a wound vac, which helps draw off the excess fluid in my hip to encourage healing. So far, things seem to be headed in the right direction.  Slowly. Nina's been especially helpful not only getting me to my appointments, but patching my dressing when there's a leak.
          -I go to physical therapy 3 days/week and do my exercises daily.  I hate to brag, but I'm kicking ass in this department.  
          -Using my chest port, I'm infusing an antibiotic twice a day.  I don't mind doing it, except each infusion takes about 2 hours. I'm also taking an oral antibiotic.  The IV medication ends at the end of May and then I'll probably take two other oral antibiotics for several months.
          -Because of the DVT and pulmonary embolism, I'm on Lovenox, a blood thinner.  Unfortunately, it's an injection into my abdomen twice daily, for three months.  
          -I'm taking two medications to help me manage pain.  I find them necessary, especially prior to PT appointments and home exercises.  
          -I still take my oral chemotherapy, Xalkori, twice a day to keep my lung cancer in check.

Pain:
         -I have identified three different sources of pain; bone, muscle and incision.   The bone and muscle pain seem to get incrementally better each day.
The most problematic is the incision. The pain medications I take make all the pain tolerable throughout my day.

On Having MRSA:
          -Just before Mother's Day, I called my infectious disease doctor's office.  I told the nurse that my extended family was having a brunch and little children and babies would be there.  Before I could ask my question, the nurse said, "Oh Honey...hasn't anyone told you that you're not contagious?  The infection is isolated to your hip." No one had said that to me and she put my concerns to rest.

The Future:
          -If I can beat this infection, then I all I need to do is continue rehab.  Right now I'm using a walker, and am learning to tolerate more weight on my bad hip.  Independent walking as soon as possible is my goal.
          -If I don't beat this infection, I'm looking at two more surgeries.  The first surgery would be to remove the infected hip appliance and replace it with a temporary antibacterial appliance.  Apparently, the material the antibacterial hip is made of isn't intended for permanent use, but absorbs antibiotics well. I'd have this temporary appliance for about 3 months, and then go back to surgery to get a permanent hip.   
          -It's a waiting game, so in the mean time, as I get stronger, I hope to go back to work in early June.  My surgeon continues to say, "We'll see how it goes." 

     


     So... that's where I am right now.  I'm working hard to be as healthy and strong as possible just in case I need more surgeries.  I'm also working hard to find my peace with this whole mess so I can move on with my mind, body and soul as intact as possible.

Please, wish me luck!

          

Because Stage 4 Cancer Isn't Enough-Part 2

      As I sit down to try to write Part 2, I'm finding it difficult to put my thoughts together.  I haven't yet wrapped my head around the events of Part 1, and even wonder if I don't have some post-traumatic stress going on.  Thinking that, with the home physical therapist's directions, I was walking around, including stairs, with a broken femur for four days makes me cringe.  On top of that, due to the fracture, I bled so much into my hip that my hemoglobin fell to 5.0 g/dL, (normal range for women is 12.0-15.5 g/dL).  The American Association of Blood Banks' guidelines recommend transfusion at  7-8 g/dL. Although I received four units of blood before the second surgery, as I said good-bye to Wynn, Nathan and Nina, I worried that I would not make it out of that surgery OK.     




     The second surgery with my new orthopedic surgeon, Dr. J., went well.  Here's the X-ray:

     The five bands around the stem of the artificial hip are there to support the fractured portion of my femur. The break is hard to appreciate on this X-ray, but it's on the left side of the stem and splinters downward.




     During all the drama, there was a moment that made me and my family laugh...

     As I was waking up in the the recovery room I was confused, and loud.  I heard male and female voices, that I didn't recognize - which turned out to be Wynn, Nathan and Nina's.  So I started shouting questions:

          Me:  "Where am I?"
          Nina:  "You're in recovery.  You just had surgery."
          Me:  "Surgery?!  For what?! What happened that I'm here?!"    
(Remember, I'm yelling. And I have no idea why these people are giggling.)
          Me:  "Who are you people?!"  
(Then I looked down at my chest and I saw the hospital gown I was in.)
          Me:   "Whose clothes are these?!  Where are my clothes?!"
(More giggling.)
          My thought:  They're so rude.

     Oddly, I remember this recovery room tantrum with great clarity.  With anesthesia and an amnesiac, most folks wouldn't.  This memory is one of few moments of levity I can muster up.

     Several days later I opted to go to a rehab hospital rather than going home.  Along with skilled nurses to watch me, I would get PT and OT twice a day, rather than twice a week, (in home therapies), if I went home.  As far as rehab hospitals go, mine was a very nice one.  It was clean, nicely decorated and most importantly to me, it didn't smell funky.  I was there 10 days, getting stronger with therapies, until I started spiking fevers. 

     So...I was sent back to the large med center, where I had more tests, (blood, ultrasound with hip aspiration, and MRI).  I was found to have a good sized abscess in my hip, along with three pockets of hematoma.  My surgeon explained that the abscess needed to be removed to maximize the effort to fight a suspected infection.  Additionally, hematomas, (solid areas of clotted blood), are a great place for infections to grow and they, too, needed to be removed. A few days later, I was back in the O.R. - my 3rd surgery in 24 days.  Dr. J. debrided my hip of the abscess and hematomas, irrigated with lots of saline, applied antimicrobial sprays, and placed antibiotic beads in the joint which, overtime, slowly release an antibiotic.  He sent biopsies for culturing to the lab to check for infections.

     The results indicated that I have a staph infection in my hip, infamously known as MRSA, (methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus).  Being told I have MRSA felt like I was being told I have head lice. (Yuck.) The infectious disease specialist explained how common MRSA is, especially in patients that spend as much time in the hospital as I had.  I, of course, Googled it to learn more.  Here's what the Mayo Clinic website on MRSA has to say:

Most MRSA infections occur in people who've been in hospitals or other health care settings, such as nursing homes and dialysis centers. When it occurs in these settings, it's known as health care-associated MRSA (HA-MRSA). HA-MRSA infections typically are associated with invasive procedures or devices, such as surgeries, intravenous tubing or artificial joints.

Another type of MRSA infection has occurred in the wider community � among healthy people. This form, community-associated MRSA (CA-MRSA), often begins as a painful skin boil. It's spread by skin-to-skin contact. At-risk populations include groups such as high school wrestlers, child care workers and people who live in crowded conditions.

[https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/mrsa/symptoms-causes/syc-20375336]

     It took a lot of reading for me to find a comfortable place to be with MRSA.  The good news is there are relatively new antibiotics that are now used and many of us beat the infection.  I started I.V. Vancomycin in the hospital and switched to I.V. Daptomycin when I was discharged.  Due to some side effects, I switched back to Vancomycin, which is a 90-minute I.V. therapy, twice daily.  I've had to juggle my appointments to work these into my day.  I'm also taking an oral antibiotic.  Right now, the end date for these treatments is planned for May 30th.

     Once I was set with the antibiotics, I was set to go home.  But of course, I was missing one last possible complication.  On the morning I was planning to be discharged, an astute 5th-year orthopedic resident noticed that my breathing seemed a bit labored.  He asked me if I was "short of breath".  I told him that I didn't think so, but it made me hyper-aware of my activities and my breathing.  By mid-afternoon, I realized that I was short of breath.  A CT scan found a small pulmonary embolism, (PE), a blood clot in a lung artery.  Further testing found a deep vein thrombosis, (DVT), a blood clot in my calf, not uncommon is patients with decreased mobility.  The most common cause of a PE is when a portion of the DVT breaks off and makes it way to the lung artery.  My hopes of going home that day were dashed.  I was immediately placed on a continuous I.V. of a blood thinner for a few more days.

     By then, I was so sick and tired of being sick and tired.  My dear friend, Brigid, came to visit me and I announced, "You may not want to be here.  I'm cranky and bitchy.  I really need to get the hell outta here."  Brigid laughed and said, "I like seeing this."  That day, when each of my doctors came into my room, I asked the same question..."What do I need do to so you'll let me go home?"  I wrote down each goal and started the process of checking off the list.  Four days after discovering the PE, I went home.  It had been over a month since my initial surgery.  Being home has made a huge difference in my recovery.  I'm eating better, sleeping more soundly, and in general, am much happier.

     There is no doubt that I've gotten healthier and stronger since I've been home, but I'm not out of the woods yet.  I'll wrap this all up in Part 3.

  

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