Venting

Arrrgggghhhh…

I sent a message (via MyChart) to Dr.Seropian’s office early Friday morning to start the process to schedule my consolidation chemotherapy treatment. I knew I wouldn’t be able to start this week, but figured next week would not be a problem. I also called to cover my bases. I received a call back from someone in the office who said they would call me as soon as they figured out the best time for me to be seen. Fine.

End of the day Friday, nothing.

And then the long weekend. And yesterday (Tuesday) I’m back to work and although I had a dream Monday night that they couldn’t see me until November (love those anxiety riddled dreams) I forgot about it until 5:00 p.m. when I realized I hadn’t heard anything. I called, even though it was after hours, so I cold at least leave a message. I spoke to someone in the office who said she would get the message to someone right away and they would get back to me as soon as possible. I thanked her and even said I didn’t expect a call back that day and tomorrow would be fine.

I just realized it is 10:00 – and still nothing 😦

Just sent another message (the nurse who responds to the messages is very efficient and quick to respond, although she is not the one who schedules).

When the medical system causes more stress than the disease and the treatment – there is something wrong with the system.

Published by

Heather

I never thought I’d be writing a blog, and certainly not one that is all about me, and yet, here I am. For me life has always been interesting, not mundane, not always exciting per se, but hardly ever the norm. When I say “It’s always something…” I don’t hear it as my life is a mess, it;s always something. It’s more of life is challenging and evolving and messy and inspiring and wondrous, it’s always something. I grew up in suburbia, buy my grandfather was the head of the Communist Party in the U.S. I was raised keeping that a secret, so that was something. I am tall, always have been, really tall (6’1″), I was taller than every human being in my elementary school when I was in 6th grade, that is still something. My parents divorced in my teens. I got a full basketball scholarship to Duke University. I married my high school basketball coach, 18 years my senior. I raised a stepson. I had two amazing kids of my own. We had a multicultural household, secular christian (I guess that’s what I would call it, you know Santa and the Easter Bunny) and Judaism, I used to say if it was a holiday – we celebrated it! We were uber involved in our community, mostly through youth athletics, coaching, managing and spectating. Our kids grew up, I started a photography business on the side (I hope to share some photos here) and we planned to travel a bit together, went to Portugal for our 25th anniversary and then my husband was diagnosed with stage 4 prostate cancer, initially they gave him 5 years, but he only survived for a little over two. I was going to say lived, but really, it was more like surviving. That, indeed, was something. I became a widow at 49. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me. But, then it was something in another way. I relearned who I was. You don’t realize how much of you becomes a combination of you and another person in a relationship. And not in a bad way, it is essential, and you don’t lose yourself, you just evolve. And I found myself suddenly alone, and learning about myself and who I had become over the years, what was just me, and what was part of who we were together. Which in retrospect, was probably hardest on those around me who had gotten used to the old me, or never even knew the original me. A year later I found love again. Sold my home of 31 years and moved closer to work. I became more fit, ate more healthfully and was amazed that I could be happy, truly happy, in the wake, no not wake, but the shadow of such profound grief. And that is truly something, something amazing and unexpected. And then, through some routine blood work in April 2014, and a visit to a hematologist and bone marrow biopsy in May, I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. And so, yes, for me right now it’s multiple myeloma, but that is not all, there are still highs and joys, and the mundane and the rest, but something like cancer does cast a pretty long shadow.

6 thoughts on “Venting”

  1. Sometimes I find that MyChart is not very friendly!! Stay calm and vent. Congrats about being back at work. Will see you next Monday when I am in for training.

    Like

  2. Hi Heather! Thanks for sharing your journey with us! How frustrating; we agree with your comment about the stress of the system vs the illness But .. It is a good sign that you are wager to get going with the process!
    Think of you everyday !!!

    Like

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