My "Flea" moment

Recently, I was reminded of the Ten Boom sisters' story where one sister suggests that they be grateful for everything, even the fleas. Corrie found this concept hard to swallow but much later they discovered that the guards never interrupted their clandestine Sunday religious services in the barracks because they were afraid of the fleas. Sometimes, it takes hindsight to get the full picture.

My "flea" moment came in the form of blood in my urine. After a course of antibiotics failed to solve the problem and some alarm was raised that my kidneys were again struggling, they decided to hospitalize me again at the end of the first week in January. Great way to start the New Year! 


Back in the Huntsman, the familiar routine began all over again: IV transfusion of fluids, daily medications, lots of checking on my vitals and visits from doctors. Each morning, the blood was drawn and I would wait in anticipation for the doctors to tell me how my kidneys were doing. For 9 straight days they would come with sober faces to tell me that things were getting worse. I was referred to the "Kidney doctors" to figure things out. One expert, Dr, Abraham was the one who stroked my face and told me that as my cancer was reduced that my kidneys would recover. Dr. Atanackovic agreed and insisted that I continued my chemotherapy treatment. I loved his firmness on this one!

I had outpatient appointments that were now handled on an inpatient level. I can remember being super excited about an upcoming appointment with the radiation department where there was hope given that they could shrink my lesions to reduce my back pain. I was dutifully wheeled down there by an orderly. I am not sure that a patient is allowed to get this excited about a suggested back operaton before radiation treatment would begin. I was to be assessed to see if I was a good candidate for a kyphoplasty, a mini operation that would stabilize my spine. I was literally back in my hospital room, holding my breath in the hopes that I was an excellent candidate.

A young doctor appeared in my room to do the assessment. He was a little overwhelmed by how enthusiastically I greeted him and he for sure didn't notice my crossed fingers. I wanted this operation so badly. The surgeon himself, Dr, Brogan appeared later in my room to deliver the verdict. I could have hugged him when he agreed to do the operation the very next day. Because I was an inpatient, he could slip me into his schedule. As an outpatient, I would have had a longer wait.

I had to fast prior to the operation and late morning turned into later afternoon and early evening. It was probably one of my hardest days since my diagnosis as my back pain came with a vengeance and the minutes ticked slowly by. Classical music became my saving grace as I tried to go into another dimension, away from the pain. Finally, the orderly came for me and by 6 pm I was in the operating room.

That night in my hospital room, I was nervous. Had the operation worked? They had said that if it was going to be a success I would know immediately. I gingerly got out of my bed to go to the bathroom, not even calling for a nurse to help me. I wanted to test it out. Oh the sheer bliss when I realized that the excruciating part of my back pain was gone!  In its place the sensation of a lump of concrete in my lower back but no pain! I had received my miracle and there was more to come.

As an inpatient, I was wheeled on a daily basis down to the radiation department where they added to my miracle. They began by giving me these 5 permanent tattooed dots on my stomach to guide their radiation treatments and then each day I lay very still as these laser beams performed the rest of the miracle. What is it about the statement to "hold very still" that has your mind working overtime to leap off the table and do a little Irish jig? Of course, I shoved that desire right down because I wanted this radiation to work.

Although I couldn't finish all my radiation treatments as an inpatient I was able to learn the ropes. I was finally discharged from the hospital after 11 days as my kidneys decided it was time to behave again. There was widespread relief that the worst (potential kidney failure) had been averted. I returned to finish the final 4 radiation treatments. Over these past weeks, my back pain has slowly begun to disappear from my day to day life, so much so that I am no longer on pain meds every day.

The miracle around my back pain was clearly the most dramatic but while I was in that hospital, lots of smaller miracles also happened. Conversations with other cancer patients that enlightened me; massages from the inpatient team;  practicing my physiotherapy exercises under the watchful eye of a specialist; starting a new chemotherapy regime that was kinder on my kidneys; and having my husband stay with me in the hospital most nights. 11 days felt like an eternity but with 20/20 hindsight I was given the opportunity to learn and understand more of what is facing me in my future in an intense way that could not have happened as an outpatient. Because of my kidney issues, I have been referred for follow up with this wonderful new doctor, Dr. Westenfelder, (another German). More on him later but needless to say, I am in great hands.

20/20 Hindsight is a wonderful thing! I am so grateful for my "fleas".