More Humorous Encounters

I was having a Y-90 treatment, which required me to hold my breath several times during the procedures.  The technicians and nurses were the ones who tell me when to hold my breath and when to breath again.  At this particular treatment, I was told to hold my breath once and was never told I could start breathing again.  It became painful, to say the least.  The techs and nurses just said, "Oops!"  But they were apologetic about it.  

Fast forward to last week when I had my semi-yearly MRI.  The voice comes into the headphones telling me, "Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, please hold your breath."  After the few seconds it took to do the scan, the voice comes back to say, "Please, continue breathing."  It hit my funny bone that they were so polite to ask me to do something so necessary for life itself.  

Today's humor came when the doctor's office called me to tell me that one of the three doctors was out of town and there needed to be a collaboration before they saw me.  Could they reschedule? Sure, why not, I'd rather have answers than just a "Hi! How are you?" visit.  So tentatively I've been rescheduled for four weeks out.  But instead of Dr. S (the one I was supposed to see tomorrow), I'll be seeing Dr. V, then the nurse said, but it could be Dr. R who does the actual procedure when it comes down to that.  😆🤷

 

Parallel Journey

Back in 2003, when I was diagnosed with my wonderfully incurable disease, I was also diagnosed as a Type II diabetic.  The first thing I did was to cut all sugar out of my diet.  I lost a few pounds, but not enough to make a difference because I didn't change much else about my diet. I've always struggled with my weight and impulse control as far as food has been concerned.  This particular journey had me on medications and I was "encouraged" to change my diet and to exercise.  It kind of went in one ear and out the other. I'm just being real.  

In 2016, Garrett hiked the Pacific Crest Trail for the first time.  I was his support in that I mailed his resupply packages to him, learned a lot about the hiking culture, and generally did my best to help him out as best I could.  A couple of years before that, he laid down a challenge to me.  If I got to the point where I could climb Beezley Hill, he would take me on some hikes into the back country of Yellowstone (just a stone's throw from where he was living at the time).  Gauntlet accepted.  I started walking--first just 3/4 mile (around my loop) then 1.5 miles (twice around the loop) and then 2 miles--down to the egg farm and back.  When it started getting hot, I'd drive into town and walk where there was shade covering the streets.  I built up to five miles and lost more weight, but I never could shake the need for taking medications.  They changed from time to time, some went off the market, some lost efficacy, and some I took with increasing dosage, but making no real progress.  

About three years ago, I saw a video on YouTube that changed the way I thought, the way I ate, and the way I approached my situation altogether.  I put into practice a few of the things that were described in the video, then I enlisted the help of an holistic nutritionist Garrett had met on one of his hikes. She reinforced what I was doing and then added a few things I could do to make things go better.  Over the course of two years, I dropped from four pills a day to control my diabetes to needing NONE!  My A1C dropped from over seven to 4.9-5.1.  That is within the range for normal, non-diabetic people.  This is the first time in my life I could be called "normal." 

Because of arthritis in my knees, I am no longer able to walk like I used to, but I do have a recumbent bicycle on a trainer that I ride five days a week for exercise.  There are some things that have become non-negotiable. What little exercise I can do is one of them.  It's all a part of the journey.  

If you are interested in the video, I have provided it here. 

 

A Bit More of the Journey

About a year after the surgery to remove "Herkimer" (I still think that tumor needs a more menacing name), I had my first Y-90 treatment, followed by two chemo-embolizations, and then another Y-90 treatment.  The chemo-embolizations didn't work so spectacularly they caused my tumors on that side of my liver to grow. So that necessitated the second Y-90.  For two years or so, my tumors remained stable, but then started showing a bit of growth, so I was mapped for the second time and given two more Y-90 treatments.  For the last seven or eight years, my tumors have remained stable, and I have just had my monthly treatments with my oncologist.  

Two years ago, my CT scan showed that I had ascites (free floating fluid in the abdomen from scar tissue in the liver--caused by the Y-90 treatments).  I had my first paracentesis (removal of said fluid), where they drained 1.5 liters, and about two months later, the second paracentesis--3 liters.  I have been on ever increasing diuretics and added a new "ologist" to my plethora of doctors--gastroenterologist.  I'm on my third gastro doctor--the first one left to be closer to his family, then the second one left to be closer to her family, I hope this isn't a trend.  

Because the diuretics can't keep up with the fluid production, I am having paracentesis every 3-4 weeks, draining 3.5-4 liters at a time.  My new gastro doctor thought there was another situation coming in to play--portal vein hypertension.  If that is, in fact, the case, there is another procedure I can have that will alleviate the fluid.  I've had two tests to determine if this is in fact the case.  I am waiting to hear the results.  In some ways, I am content to wait for the answers to come, in others I am eager to find out what the next steps are and when I can see that through.  

Just in case you didn't know, zebras do not whinny or neigh like a horse.  They bark in short bursts of sounds that have a bit of a donkey/mule bray mixed in.  

 

Tales from the Doctor's Office

In 2008, I had my gall bladder taken out because of infection.  It happened shortly before our thirtieth anniversary, and dog-gone-it, I had plans, and, more importantly, I had reservations--non-refundable reservations.  So Kevin called to see if my medical emergency could be reason enough for a refund.  It did and all we needed was a note from the doctor.  When I went back for my surgical follow up, Kevin asked the doctor to write a note for us to get the refund on the reservations. When we told the doctor what we needed, he suggested I stay home and he go on the trip. 😄

A few years later, I am meeting with the surgeon who is going to remove my volleyball-sized tumor, he comes into the exam room and says, "I need to see this Herkimer!"  

A year or so later, I am meeting with my first interventional radiologist and I mention that our open-season for insurance is coming up and I wanted to be sure I am going to be covered.  I told the doctor that the designation "open-season" meant that I could put on my blaze orange vest and go after the insurance companies for some of the rigmaroles I've had to go through to get them to cover things they were obligated to cover.  He wanted to join me.  

Later on, I am being mapped for my  Y-90 treatment and one of the interventional radiologists' fellows told me that I have "interesting architecture," meaning that the blood vessel structure was not exactly normal.  But then what about me or my life is normal?

My most recent hilarity came about because of interchangeable doctors. I am seeing another interventional radiologist.  I am informed that I will be seeing Dr. R. on this first appointment.  The day before the  appointment, the scheduler calls and tells me that I will be seeing Dr. V. instead.  Okay, that's all right.  I get to the appointment, and I go to the receptionist to check in and say, "I have an appointment with Dr. V."  The receptionist says, "Actually, you'll be seeing Dr. S."  It just reminded me of the Tupperware™ toys my children had with interchangeable parts.😁  

This last one didn't happen to me, but it still gives me a giggle.  My mama had written me a letter telling me about a doctor's appointment her friend had been to.  While he was waiting for his turn, there was a mother with a young boy in the waiting room and the boy was just all over the place, being a little boy.  The mother finally got tired of his shenanigans and picked him up and sat him down in a chair rather forcefully. The little boy looked at his mother and said, "Now, you've gone and done it!  You've busted both my balls!"  The whole waiting room gasped as the boy leaned forward in his chair and pulled one very flat ping pong ball out of each of his back pockets. 😂 Another elderly gent got up and gave the boy a dollar bill, saying, "Son, you've made my day!"

 

I Was Called Encyclopedia, But Just as Well Could Have Been Dictionary

In college, I was often called "Encyclopedia," because my brain stores all kinds of useless information.  It still does, but it also collects words.  That probably started in high school Senior English with Mrs. Shehane.  She gave us vocabulary lessons with words like pusillanimous (cowardly), obsequious (fawning obedience), ubiquitous (seeming to be everywhere), erudite (scholarly), inculcate (to ingrain), and many others.  I have also been known to read the dictionary just for fun.  

My favorite word is one that is common enough, that everyone seems to use a form of it often, but I found it has a deeper meaning that just the surface definition it is frequently given. The word is COMFORT.  In studying this word, I found its roots go back to the Latin "com," meaning "with;" and "forte," meaning strength.  Put it together, it means "with strength."  To comfort means to give strength.  To be comforted means that someone has given you their strength at a time when you most need it.  I like this meaning much more that the commonly accepted "ease," or "cozy." 

I can't count the number of times I have been comforted, when someone stood by me with strength.  It's such an incredible feeling.  So tonight, I'm hoping you'll collect this word with me and find some comfort.  

But this wouldn't be a "Becky" post without a bit of humor.  Here it is:

A blonde and a redhead have a ranch. They have just lost their bull. The women need to buy another, but only have $500. The redhead tells the blonde, “I will go to the market and see if I can find one for under that amount. If I can, I will send you a telegram.” She goes to the market and finds one for $499. Having only one dollar left, she goes to the telegraph office and finds out that it costs one dollar per word. She is stumped on how to tell the blonde to bring the truck and trailer. Finally, she tells the telegraph operator to send the word “comfortable.” Skeptical, the operator asks, “How will she know to come with the trailer from just that word?” The redhead replies, “She’s a blonde so she reads slow: ‘Come for ta bull.'”

 

Ya Gotta Have a Sense of Humor

Some years ago, I had Intensity Modulated Radiation Therapy for one tumor that is not in my liver but hangs out between my liver and my stomach.  The IMRT appointments were for five days a week for six weeks.  Thirty treatments in all.  Every day when I went in, I had to give my name and birthdate a couple of times--at reception and before getting set up for the treatment.  I got tired of always saying, "My name is Rebecca Guinn, my birthdate is 5/18/58." So one day, I said, "I'm Ethel Mertz, my birthdate is 5/18/58."  The technician didn't know who Ethel Mertz was and had to be schooled. I also used Jane Jetson, Wilma Flintstone, Betty Rubble, Dorothy Zbornak, and if I was feeling crabby, Lucy Van Pelt.  For twenty of the thirty days, I chose to be someone other than Becky.  It gave my technician a chuckle and a challenge, and it lightened my load considerably.  This came to mind because I've had a plethora of appointments and procedures lately and I'm now thinking I should pull some of my secret identities into the fore.  

There are days when I just need something funny to distract myself.  This video is one of those funnies that I watch and rewatch just for the jollies.  I also love showing this to others and watching them chuckle in all the right places.  So for your enjoyment, meet Andy Griffith.