After a few days of hibernation, I started to be somewhat more active. I took my mom to Gettysburg, took up therapy again, and started attending a "mindfulness and meditation group" which really helped sort out my thoughts in a calming manner. In all honesty, I think I might have been lost without this group. My hair had continued to fall out to the point where I had to completely buzz it off. I also became very weak and my appetite disappeared. If I hadn't joined this mindfulness group and taken up therapy again, I probably wouldn't be here to write on my blog anymore. I would have given up.
The group even helped me get to a state of confidence when faced with my next obstacle...my new treatment. My first immunotherapy appointment was coming up and I went into it thinking "well I've gone through 2 kinds of treatments...I know everyone in the infusion center...I know I can do this and I'll just take whatever symptoms come with it".....little did I know this would be an ordeal on it's own.
I went to my first appointment with my head held high. I greeted the nurses there as if I had just seen them yesterday (it felt like I had). They got the needle into my chemo port with ease, but there was an issue with the blood return. After a few flushes and a little bit of time, they fixed the problem. I was then told that because it's immunotherapy, I didn't need any premeds (chalky steroid pills that keep me awake for hours) and they started me right away on my hour long IV drip. I started watching the news of Hurricane Matthew on their little TV system they have for patients...when all of a sudden I realized I couldn't take a deep breath. At first I just shrugged it off thinking maybe it was my anxiety...and then my breathing got shallower and shallower. I was becoming flushed and had just enough breath to call the nurse over and tell her I couldn't breathe.
All of a sudden it was panic in the infusion center. So many nurses rushed over to take my vitals, put an oxygen mask on, cut off my IV, and call over one of the oncologist to diagnose the situation. Apparently this drug was causing my veins to constrict and they had to administered a drug to fix it. They said I would need to take this as a premed before each of my treatments (darn). Once I was off the oxygen mask they started me up again on my treatment and before I knew it I was done. But since I had never had a breathing problem ever in my life, I was totally scared going to sleep that night...thinking I would go to sleep and stop breathing in the middle of the night and not wake up.
With a little meditation that I had learned from the group I was able to coax myself to sleep and haven't had an issue since. I may not be back to the mindset I was before my week in hell, but I can definitely say without a doubt that thanks to meditations, I am so much more better off than I was before. Sure I have my low points and dark moments but I truly think the positive outweighs the negative. We all have to find things to laugh and smile about. Every once in a while we just need to breathe and take notice that we are. I think everyone, not just cancer patients, should take a moment everyday and just look at themselves from the inside out, breathe, look around, and realize how lucky they are to be alive.
"Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now!" -Hamilton the musical
