It’s not my diet. If anything, I’ve been eating worse. When the girl at the Burger King drive through recognized me and then joked about how fast she would be putting on the pounds if she ate there as often as I did, I figured I should cut it back a bit.
It’s not a new optimism. I’ve been spending the last few weeks reconciling myself and my family to the fact that while a year+ isn’t an impossibility, there’s a real possibility of a really short timeline in my future.
My pain has become more significant, and importantly, more anxiety producing. My liver felt inhabited by roaming lights, moving shadowy pains. I have had sharp bone met pain in a rib and in the center of my spine.
Fatigue has been life altering. Getting up to go to work the day after chemo…It’s like waking a child from a dead sleep in the middle of the night. Walking up stairs makes my thigh muscles bark with the effort. In previous chemo cycles, the fatigue got progressively worse, the second dose outshining the first. By day 15, my fatigue turned into a heart squeezing pain when I rose quickly from a sitting position or climbed stairs.
I’ve done two treatments for two cycles. Cycles are supposed to be three treatments. (Low blood counts and a spontaneous family vacation to the Southwest interrupted them.)
I didn’t think I could do a three treatment cycle. And with my rising tumor markers and the increasing fatigue and discomfort, I was feeling pretty negative about this treatment, overall.
And then Reiki.
The first week the pain left.
The second week the light and energy came.
Energy became something the flowed through me rather than from me.
I was certain my blood counts would be sky high at yesterday’s chemo.
If not the lowest blood counts I’ve ever scored, they were pretty damn close.
Low blood counts once made me feel so poorly I couldn’t raise my head from the table and my husband ended up calling 911.
WBC 1.4 (Normal 3.4-10.8)
RBC 2.69 (Normal 3.77-5.28)
HGB 8.7 (Normal 11.1-15.9)
HCT 27.2 (Normal 34.0-46.6)
And I feel GREAT. I could swim kilometers today. I climb stairs with no breathlessness or chest squeezing. I don’t need to rest my head in my arms for a second after carrying a couple of gallons of milk into the kitchen.
Maybe it’s the chemo finally kicking in and my liver suddently reverting to a state of health. Maybe my new energy is a new science induced spontaneous return to health. Next week’s PET scan will tell us that. That would really be great.
But here’s the thing.
If the PET scan shows progression next week, my new energy must be coming from somewhere else.
Either way, it’s pretty damn miraculous.