Recent changes in my condition at first glance looked like a return to the bad old days of new symptoms and weird side effects appearing unexpectedly.
I’ve come up lame along the right side of my neck causing acute pain when turning my head. Other pain has lodged in my right hip making any movement excruciating. At my chiropractor’s office last week I described my “symptoms.” The doctor immediately put his finger on it, literally, as an injured shoulder muscle and a strained gluteal muscle.
In a way these are side effects, but not of illness or chemotherapy. They are common to people who have “over trained” in their personal exercise routine. A light massage of the injured areas gave immediate relief; I was sent home with a stretchy band and instructions for its use to speed recovery. He also advised trimming my overly ambitious workout routine (six days alternating 90- and 30-minute workouts). The fact that any exercise enthusiast can have the same injuries encourages me. I feel like a “regular” person!
Another recent episode reinforces that feeling. At a social gathering, several of our friends (really!) teased me about my scrawny butt. I was aghast until I realized the humor and friendly intent of the jibe. Apparently others see me as strong enough to take a tease, and that’s a valid reflection of their assessment of my health.
Just recognizing that some of the aches, pains and vicissitudes I am experiencing are shared by others free of illness encourages me to wallow in the pleasure of feeling like a “regular” person. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to feel that way and am hugely grateful to all of you who have supported us in this quest.
Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 30, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Belly Laugh
It’s spontaneous. It’s strong, deep and satisfying. And it caught me off guard.
Now, I can’t even remember what plucked my sense of fancy. Some silliness crept up on me, enfolded me in a bear hug and liberated my sense of whimsy. Suddenly I found myself laughing with abandon, fully experiencing the physical and psychic tickle of mirth.
Reactions moved at lightning speed, piling one on top of the other. I threw my head back, creating a clear escape route for the bursts of laughter scrambling their way up my throat to freedom; closed my eyes, the better to shut out extraneous stimuli and focus singly on reacquainting myself with the pleasure of abandonment I had almost forgotten existed.
A sense of discovery illuminated the experience. The authenticity of my laughter rang out clearly, even to my own ears. Long-estranged sensations rushed in to settle into their corner of home, welcoming and embracing the moment and each other. The comfort of self-at-home instantly reasserted itself, polishing up psychic furnishings that had long faded from my awareness of now.
As my health improves, I am reminded by contrast with two years ago how very ill I was then: more ill than I realized at the time. So, too, as I laughed, I instantly recognized how long it has been since succumbing so completely to a thoroughly satisfying belly laugh.
Norman Cousins (Anatomy of an Illness) proved again: laughter is the best medicine; I’m looking forward to more “comedic therapy” treatments.
Stay well.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted April 18, 2009
Now, I can’t even remember what plucked my sense of fancy. Some silliness crept up on me, enfolded me in a bear hug and liberated my sense of whimsy. Suddenly I found myself laughing with abandon, fully experiencing the physical and psychic tickle of mirth.
Reactions moved at lightning speed, piling one on top of the other. I threw my head back, creating a clear escape route for the bursts of laughter scrambling their way up my throat to freedom; closed my eyes, the better to shut out extraneous stimuli and focus singly on reacquainting myself with the pleasure of abandonment I had almost forgotten existed.
A sense of discovery illuminated the experience. The authenticity of my laughter rang out clearly, even to my own ears. Long-estranged sensations rushed in to settle into their corner of home, welcoming and embracing the moment and each other. The comfort of self-at-home instantly reasserted itself, polishing up psychic furnishings that had long faded from my awareness of now.
As my health improves, I am reminded by contrast with two years ago how very ill I was then: more ill than I realized at the time. So, too, as I laughed, I instantly recognized how long it has been since succumbing so completely to a thoroughly satisfying belly laugh.
Norman Cousins (Anatomy of an Illness) proved again: laughter is the best medicine; I’m looking forward to more “comedic therapy” treatments.
Stay well.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted April 18, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Hello Again
Thank you for your phone calls and messages. Hearing your voices and news of your lives has been a great lift to my spirits during this self-styled sabbatical and throughout this journey of discovery.
JANUARY: The news from January’s trip to Charleston for the experimental drug clinical trial check-up continued holding steady with more or less equally balanced changes. Four tumors in my liver were scanned: the two smaller tumors showed some growth while two larger tumors actually shrank. This is the first conspicuous shrinkage we’ve had since I joined the trial a year and a half ago. Blood testing also turned up few variations from “normal range,” and those were close enough not to be a worry or require treatment. We’re building an impressive track record!
APRIL: The most recent trip, completed last week, is even better. From four radiology reports: “Essentially unchanged” (abdomen, liver); “without evidence of metastatic disease” (pelvis); “Stable…without new nodes or masses … thyroid unchanged” (neck); “no evidence of … abnormality. Unchanged … lymph node.” (chest).
As for the blood work, the CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen) is down 22% since the January analysis. This means that the cancer cells are creating fewer new cells than before. The results of the second (Calcitonin) markers will be available soon. I’ll pass them along when I have them. Other results from the blood testing are all Within Normal Range or close enough not to be a concern. Overall, a “no change” situation, the third consecutive check-up showing little or no changes.
Thank you for being with us so faithfully.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 9, 2009
JANUARY: The news from January’s trip to Charleston for the experimental drug clinical trial check-up continued holding steady with more or less equally balanced changes. Four tumors in my liver were scanned: the two smaller tumors showed some growth while two larger tumors actually shrank. This is the first conspicuous shrinkage we’ve had since I joined the trial a year and a half ago. Blood testing also turned up few variations from “normal range,” and those were close enough not to be a worry or require treatment. We’re building an impressive track record!
APRIL: The most recent trip, completed last week, is even better. From four radiology reports: “Essentially unchanged” (abdomen, liver); “without evidence of metastatic disease” (pelvis); “Stable…without new nodes or masses … thyroid unchanged” (neck); “no evidence of … abnormality. Unchanged … lymph node.” (chest).
As for the blood work, the CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen) is down 22% since the January analysis. This means that the cancer cells are creating fewer new cells than before. The results of the second (Calcitonin) markers will be available soon. I’ll pass them along when I have them. Other results from the blood testing are all Within Normal Range or close enough not to be a concern. Overall, a “no change” situation, the third consecutive check-up showing little or no changes.
Thank you for being with us so faithfully.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 9, 2009
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