Skip to main content

A new plan

The attending physician and my oncologist consulted and came up with a treatment plan to prevent more clots. While I am in the hospital, I will go on a higher dose of Lovenox (3 doses, 12 hours apart). I was taking Lovenox after being discharged from the Reston hospital and ended up in the ER 5 days later with another clot, but the doctors think the higher dose will be more effective. After the third dose, they will test my blood for anti-factor Xa. Although it sounds like a weapon used by a Marvel superhero, it is a way to measure blood coagulation. If the results are good, then I can go home on Friday and continue taking Lovenox. If not, then we go back to the drawing board.

I got a big piece of good news yesterday. In addition to the reduced lung inflammation, the radiologist noted that the cancerous nodules are a bit smaller. These are early signs that Tagrisso seems to be working!

I felt much better after hearing this news and having a plan in place. Nonetheless, it is hard to go back to feeling out of breath after walking 10 feet to the bathroom, even while using oxygen. Pulmonary embolisms are no joke. I was telling Leland that I feel like I'm back at square 2, but he reminded me that I'm not because I haven't spent 2 weeks lying in bed. Still, the setbacks are discouraging. 

Leland and Lily took me outside for a while last night with my IV pole and oxygen tank. We visited and watched the sunset with a friend who is also hospitalized here. I also enjoyed visits with several other friends throughout the day. 


Once again, I urge you to pay attention to your body and advocate for yourself. The signs earlier this week were subtle: my heart rate was a bit higher, the walk to campus felt somewhat harder than usual, I needed more oxygen, and even on the higher oxygen my saturation rate was low. I could have waited a couple days to see what happened, but instead I called my oncologist and she recommended the CT scan, which, along with the ultrasound, led to the discovery of the enlarged clots. A friend who visited yesterday relayed how long she had to fight to get her son diagnosed with what turned out to be Crohn's disease -- and how one doctor after another dismissed her concerns and her son's symptoms. 

If in doubt, check it out.

Comments

  1. Replies
    1. It is a very good news that your cancer medication is working. I hope your oxygen saturation levels improve soon so that you can regain your strength.

      Delete
  2. Thanking God with you for the smaller cancer nodules!! In solidarity, made your pasta fresca recipe today for dinner and got the blue nail polish! Praying for continued healing and good anticoagulation results.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! Glad I could spread the joy of pasta with salsa fresca and colorful nail polish.

      Delete
  3. Wow Esther so right about listening to your body. Relieved to have a little good news! Big hugs. Henson

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! Now I have to get well enough to travel to Barbados...

      Delete
  4. Thank you for sharing your progress, difficulties, and emotions. It is so real and I can stand before you and feel how you feel, and pay attention to my body as well. JH

    ReplyDelete
  5. So glad cancer cells shrinking! To God be the glory. You’re right that blood clots are absolutely no joke. Go easy walking. You’ll be off oxygen and breathing room air before you know it. Be gone blood clots in the name of Jesus!!! Big hugs 🤗 Amen for the good news blessing! 🙏🏽

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Healthcare costs and insurance woes and victories

Those of you who have read this blog from the beginning may recall my posts about how inexpensive healthcare is in Germany compared to the US. I now have additional proof. I've been receiving "explanation of benefits" statements from Aetna detailing the cost of my hospital stays and other healthcare services since the end of July. Close your eyes and guess how much these amount to. Higher. No, higher. Still higher. Well over $200,000. Of that, I have paid maybe $100 plus some $20-30 co-pays for doctor's visits. Add to that my cancer and blood thinner medications, which would cost about $16,000 per month without insurance. I have no idea what people in my situation do if they are uninsured or under-insured. My recent interaction with one of my German doctors illustrates another stark difference. Before leaving Germany, I had asked my doctor what to do if I received bills from the LungenClinic after we had moved and closed our Deutsche Bank account (all bills in Germany...

Indolent nodules

We met with my oncologist (Dr. Villaruz) and radiation oncologist (Dr. McCall) at UPMC in Pittsburgh yesterday en route from visiting family in Grand Rapids, MI. The main nodule we were watching grew by another millimeter or so. Dr. Villaruz described it as “indolent.” I asked what that meant and as she started to say “growing very slowly,” I recognized the word and blurted out “lazy!” I remarked I’d never heard indolent used in a medical context, and Dr. Villaruz said she’d never heard of it outside of medicine. So we both learned something. She and Dr. McCall said that there is no urgency, but that within the next 9-12 months, they would want to radiate the more clearly defined nodule and another one close to it. A third one looks like “ground glass,” a term for something that is hazy and not quite solid, but you can’t radiate something that is ill-defined and can’t be clearly imaged. It will be much easier to do radiation in the summer than during a busy semester or the winter b...

Four years

Sunday, June 14 marked 4 years since I was diagnosed with lung cancer while living in Hamburg. Those of you who have followed my journey from the start know that my family and I went to hell and back several times during those first six months. Here I am before, during, and after. The photo below was the last taken before my life unraveled. I went on a photography outing with the American Women's Club of Hamburg. When my doctor said my x-ray showed "infiltration" and I should get a CT scan, I put it off for a day so I wouldn't miss this event. That's how unconcerned I was. The possibility of cancer never crossed my mind, despite my severe shortness of breath. This was my hospital room at the LungenClinic, where I learned my shocking diagnosis. I was sitting at the little table with the doctors and Leland was on Zoom. Leland had to travel to the hospital by train (an hour-plus trip) before we could process the news together, shellshocked. This photo shows me in the...