I just had Dan give me my B12 shot. I prepped the needle and he stuck it in the back of my arm. I've been really nervous about this. Last month I had a nearby nursing friend do it for me but Dan wasn't around for a tutorial at the time. I put in a call to her again but decided I just couldn't wait until she was able to come for a house call. So what's the next best thing if you can't learn how to do a routine but potentially problematic procedure from an actual medical professional? You Tube of course!
I watched a few videos and it was kind of amazing that I was able to view the needle going in the skin. This ALWAYS skeeves me out; I even turn my head when I watch medical shows and someone is getting jabbed with a needle. It's really one of the only things that ever stood between me and medical school. (That and the all the darn TIME it takes to get through it)!
After watching a few of these, I realized that none of them were going through the steps of getting the liquid into the syringe. That was to be my job and I remembered something about displacing the liquid with air in the bottle or something like that blah blah blah. But this is the important stuff, getting the syringe ready. I finally found a video that covered all that and I wrote down all the steps.
Then I said to Dan, "If you watch a video, do you think you can do this?"
"This?" He said, pointing to the television showing a program about making whiskey.
"No. No. Giving me my shot."
"Oh, sure.Yeah, no problem."
Turned out to be easier and less stressful than I thought. I'm starting to think that I'll someday be able to do it all by myself; as soon as I get over the ickyness of it. And I might need that to happen sooner rather than later because I think I need to be getting this more frequently that once a month.
I've read about many people who would get them once a week for the first six months after surgery and then taper off to once a month. I just get so darn tired; I slept most of the day for the past two days. I'm disoriented and irritable. It's no fun to be near me. It's no fun to BE me when I'm like that.
There's no doubt I'm vitamin deficient. My skin is terribly dry. My hair is falling out in clumps. My brain functions are skewed. I realized that it's not even a matter of ingestion, it's a matter of absorption. I wasn't even thinking of the fact that I'm not getting as much of the nutrients out of my food as say, a person with a stomach to break down all that food matter. Even supplementing doesn't ensure that I'm absorbing the vitamins. So I've started to take my supplements with every meal, as opposed to just once per day. When I remember anyway.
So I hope this shot gives me some energy back and if I find myself dragging after three weeks, I'll go ahead and take another, right? Especially now as I'm still in the first months after surgery. Maybe I'll even find the nerve to give it myself, without assistance. If I can do that then maybe the MCAT isn't too far behind!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Terrible Correspondent
And I swore I would not be one of those blog people who start to taper off in posting. No, no! I will write new updates at least once per week, maybe more, if my mind allows. I've read other blogs in earnest only to discover the posts becoming fewer and farther between with maybe a six month post and then not another one until the obligatory "One Year Post Op" write up. Usually around then the blogger will note that the blog had run its course and no longer serves the purpose for which it was started. Right about now is where I might say the same and offer a conciliatory goodbye, thanks for reading, I'm done with this now. But I'm not going to let you off that easy. I'm going to make you read more.
The three month mark came and went as I was both winding down from my flyover state driving tour with mom and briefly lamenting the fact that after the recent birthday I've become very technically "In my Forties," as opposed to being simply 40. There is a difference.
From time to time I bump into someone I haven't seen or talked to in several months and they kind of do a double take and ask "Um ... How ARE you?" My standard response is that I'm doing very well, considering my current physical state. I've struggled recently with the whole notion of the concept of "recovery" because one does not recover from this surgery, one adapts. Recovery implies a return to the prior state of being and that just isn't going to happen for me. This is the "New Normal" I often refer to.
I feel terrible after eating, pretty much all the time. I can't really call it nausea because to me, nausea is a feeling of wanting or needing to vomit. I don't feel that. The feeling I get is not quite pain, not quite bloating. It's just this persistent all encompassing yuk-ness that has no other name. I still think I'm eating too much at any given time. Probably a combination of my being paranoid about not getting enough nutrients and not paying attention to how much I am eating.
I haven't developed much of a routine because my day is not structured the same as it would be if I say, had a full time job that offered good benefits and opportunity for advancement. So I'm wary of establishing said routine for fear that some kind of life change will affect it adversely, thus throwing my system and health out of whack. (At least that's what I keep telling myself as I procrastinate on the whole eating routine thing while I look for a job). Plus it's so darn hard! Never in a million years would I have thought that properly eating and drinking throughout the course of the day would actually be work.
I've started to have some pain around the incision. I didn't feel anything for the longest time; it was completely numb around the scar for months. The incision itself has healed well and properly but I guess now that the nerves are reconstructing themselves, they're kind of saying, "Heyyyyy, what happened? Ouch! I think we were severed! That's supposed to HURT! What the . . . " So now they're sending pain messages to the brain. Little late my dendrites, little late.
Now that things have settled down, I hope to write a little more to keep everyone up to date on myrecovery adaptability!
The three month mark came and went as I was both winding down from my flyover state driving tour with mom and briefly lamenting the fact that after the recent birthday I've become very technically "In my Forties," as opposed to being simply 40. There is a difference.
From time to time I bump into someone I haven't seen or talked to in several months and they kind of do a double take and ask "Um ... How ARE you?" My standard response is that I'm doing very well, considering my current physical state. I've struggled recently with the whole notion of the concept of "recovery" because one does not recover from this surgery, one adapts. Recovery implies a return to the prior state of being and that just isn't going to happen for me. This is the "New Normal" I often refer to.
I feel terrible after eating, pretty much all the time. I can't really call it nausea because to me, nausea is a feeling of wanting or needing to vomit. I don't feel that. The feeling I get is not quite pain, not quite bloating. It's just this persistent all encompassing yuk-ness that has no other name. I still think I'm eating too much at any given time. Probably a combination of my being paranoid about not getting enough nutrients and not paying attention to how much I am eating.
I haven't developed much of a routine because my day is not structured the same as it would be if I say, had a full time job that offered good benefits and opportunity for advancement. So I'm wary of establishing said routine for fear that some kind of life change will affect it adversely, thus throwing my system and health out of whack. (At least that's what I keep telling myself as I procrastinate on the whole eating routine thing while I look for a job). Plus it's so darn hard! Never in a million years would I have thought that properly eating and drinking throughout the course of the day would actually be work.
I've started to have some pain around the incision. I didn't feel anything for the longest time; it was completely numb around the scar for months. The incision itself has healed well and properly but I guess now that the nerves are reconstructing themselves, they're kind of saying, "Heyyyyy, what happened? Ouch! I think we were severed! That's supposed to HURT! What the . . . " So now they're sending pain messages to the brain. Little late my dendrites, little late.
Now that things have settled down, I hope to write a little more to keep everyone up to date on my
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Newly Remodeled Website
The folks over at No Stomach for Cancer (formerly Be Strong Hearted) have been kind enough to feature my blog as one of the many Personal Stories on the Community section of the website. If figured that I should plug them here as that site has been an invaluable resource for me both prior to and during recovey from surgery.
They've just revamped the site and made it more navigable and user friendly. At the same time they have awesome news. November has been designated as Stomach Cancer Awareness Month thanks to a few senators from the Midwest. Oddly enough they represent two states (Wisconsin and Illinios) in which I have recently been sojourning. Now, I don't want to say that my mere presence out there has some kind of mystical influence over this turn of events. It doesn't mean that my personal energy is so powerfully strong that it can move even politicians to do good things. Or does it?
Yeah, I doubt it. It was mostly due to the diligent efforts of the Chelcun family and
everyone else behind the scenes at No Stomach For Cancer. Upon learning of this condition and it's rude interjection into the lives of their family, they immediately sprung into action and began in their advocacy for people living with CDH1 and HDGC. Their efforts have been monumental and their hard work is reflected in the new site. Stop by and get informed, and I dunno-maybe hit the red "donate" button if you have a few dollars that you don't know what to do with.
No Stomach For Cancer
I want a big glass of Coca Cola. I haven't been dining out so much in the classical sense. I mean, we went to the breakfast buffet at the local firehouse Sunday morning and I had a few bites of a burrito at the mall a while back. But the whole sit at a table with a server waiting on you thing; haven't done much of that.
I flew back to Chicago today so that I can start to drive back to PA with my mom tomorrow. Don't ask. We're making a few stops to see people so it'll take a while. My cousin wanted to treat us to dinner and before I could even mention Morton's, I found out that Red Lobster would be the restaurant of choice. Usually I have a rule about eating seafood so far away from the actual sea. But it's Red Lobster, right? It's not like I'm getting tuna tartare or raw oysters or anything like that.
Aside from intentionally ordering way more than I could eat (after dismissing my first thought to order a cup of soup and an appetizer as my entree), I spent a lot of time watching the servers carry trays with icy cold glasses to other tables. Glasses containing a dark syrupy liquid with a riot of effervescent bubbles clinging to their sides. I really wanted a Coke. Or a Dr. Pepper, which is odd as I remember a similar tasting soft drink called Mr. Pibb being the brand of choice in these parts. No, never mind, just a Coke.
I started obsessing about it. Like I could almost taste it, but not quite and I just needed a little nip to remember that taste. I looked at my watered-down raspberry lemonade and then at all the other tables. Look at them, I thought. Just look at all of them with their sodas, happily slurping through straws, asking the waitress for refills! I recalled being able to sip such a beverage and thoroughly enjoying, but not appreciating, the flavor and thirst quenchiness! Sometimes I would chug some right out of the bottle. Sometimes I would even mix in a little rum believe it or not!
I never even really drank a lot of soda anyway and in our house it is considered a treat more than it is a staple. Maybe it's just the idea of wanting something you can't have. Or perhaps it was just the feeling of wanting something that wasn't watered down, as is the only way i can tolerate the beverages I'm able to consume. Or even an urge to drink anything at all while I'm eating. It's a totally natural thing to sip water with a meal, but not something I'm able to do any longer. Eating is separated from drinking by at least 30-45 minutes.
What's probably going to happen is that I will obsess about it until I just get a Coke, open it up and let it go flat. When I taste it, it will be nothing like I remembered and I'll be disappointed and wonder why I even missed it in the first place. And I'll stick to my flavored water for now, thank you!
They've just revamped the site and made it more navigable and user friendly. At the same time they have awesome news. November has been designated as Stomach Cancer Awareness Month thanks to a few senators from the Midwest. Oddly enough they represent two states (Wisconsin and Illinios) in which I have recently been sojourning. Now, I don't want to say that my mere presence out there has some kind of mystical influence over this turn of events. It doesn't mean that my personal energy is so powerfully strong that it can move even politicians to do good things. Or does it?
Yeah, I doubt it. It was mostly due to the diligent efforts of the Chelcun family and
everyone else behind the scenes at No Stomach For Cancer. Upon learning of this condition and it's rude interjection into the lives of their family, they immediately sprung into action and began in their advocacy for people living with CDH1 and HDGC. Their efforts have been monumental and their hard work is reflected in the new site. Stop by and get informed, and I dunno-maybe hit the red "donate" button if you have a few dollars that you don't know what to do with.
No Stomach For Cancer
I want a big glass of Coca Cola. I haven't been dining out so much in the classical sense. I mean, we went to the breakfast buffet at the local firehouse Sunday morning and I had a few bites of a burrito at the mall a while back. But the whole sit at a table with a server waiting on you thing; haven't done much of that.
I flew back to Chicago today so that I can start to drive back to PA with my mom tomorrow. Don't ask. We're making a few stops to see people so it'll take a while. My cousin wanted to treat us to dinner and before I could even mention Morton's, I found out that Red Lobster would be the restaurant of choice. Usually I have a rule about eating seafood so far away from the actual sea. But it's Red Lobster, right? It's not like I'm getting tuna tartare or raw oysters or anything like that.
Aside from intentionally ordering way more than I could eat (after dismissing my first thought to order a cup of soup and an appetizer as my entree), I spent a lot of time watching the servers carry trays with icy cold glasses to other tables. Glasses containing a dark syrupy liquid with a riot of effervescent bubbles clinging to their sides. I really wanted a Coke. Or a Dr. Pepper, which is odd as I remember a similar tasting soft drink called Mr. Pibb being the brand of choice in these parts. No, never mind, just a Coke.
I started obsessing about it. Like I could almost taste it, but not quite and I just needed a little nip to remember that taste. I looked at my watered-down raspberry lemonade and then at all the other tables. Look at them, I thought. Just look at all of them with their sodas, happily slurping through straws, asking the waitress for refills! I recalled being able to sip such a beverage and thoroughly enjoying, but not appreciating, the flavor and thirst quenchiness! Sometimes I would chug some right out of the bottle. Sometimes I would even mix in a little rum believe it or not!
I never even really drank a lot of soda anyway and in our house it is considered a treat more than it is a staple. Maybe it's just the idea of wanting something you can't have. Or perhaps it was just the feeling of wanting something that wasn't watered down, as is the only way i can tolerate the beverages I'm able to consume. Or even an urge to drink anything at all while I'm eating. It's a totally natural thing to sip water with a meal, but not something I'm able to do any longer. Eating is separated from drinking by at least 30-45 minutes.
What's probably going to happen is that I will obsess about it until I just get a Coke, open it up and let it go flat. When I taste it, it will be nothing like I remembered and I'll be disappointed and wonder why I even missed it in the first place. And I'll stick to my flavored water for now, thank you!
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