Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “The Heart”

A Survivor’s Response… In Her Own Words


In my last post, I wrote about “classes” of cancer survivorship.  A fellow survivor wrote a response on one of our Facebook pages, and I asked her if it would be alright if I posted her response on my blog.

Like me, Judy D’Antonio is a long term cancer survivor.  But whereas I consider myself in the 3rd classification of survivorship, Judy considers herself in the 4th and most extreme classification.  And Judy is not alone.  In fact, I know many others, including like the friend who just passed away recently inspiring my last post.

So without any further commentary, here is Judy D’Antonio’s response to my previous post, in her own words.

“This is a great description of the various stages of survivorship. I was a bit distressed to realize I was in the last group of survivorship, having endured so many of the late effects (3 subsequent cancers, being dependent on oxygen and an AVAPS machine at night due to lungs that no longer are able to rid my body of deadly carbon dioxide plus numerous other late effects )

I still keep fighting though. As hard as it is I still keep fighting. I sometimes wonder what the future holds and how many good years I have left. I’ve been told by various pulmonary doctors that I’ll eventually need to use my AVAPS machine 24/7 due to my lungs inability to work properly. Do I really want to be connected 247 to a full face mask and a machine that breathes for me? I’m near the highest level on my machine and they have suggested I seriously consider having a tracheostomy if my lungs get much worse. But when does it get to be too much?

Already I feel resentful that so many things have been taken away from me. Things that most people take for granted such as being able to swallow their food without choking. Resentful that my body no longer is able to maintain a healthy weight and I must hook myself up every night to a feeding bag through my G tube to provide nutrition. (going to the bathroom at night is a challenge with all these machines to unhook!)

When do you cry uncle and just say that there has to be some quality of life? I worry about this because one of my biggest fears is being incapable of taking care of myself and being dependent on others for my basic needs ( my greatest nightmare happened when I stopped breathing when I was hospitalized and had to be put on a ventilator for several days)

So for now I’m continuing to fight because I still have the energy to, but when it gets to be to much I know I’ll be ok with letting go.”

Judy D’Antonio

The Classes Of Survivorship


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As an advocate of cancer patients and survivors, I have met so many people over the years who have beaten cancer and moved on with their lives with only having to deal with follow-up visits.  But there are also many people that I have met who have had to deal with late developing side effects from the treatments that saved their lives, only to struggle with these new physiological issues.  Sadly, whether because of ignorance of medicine to recognize these health issues, or the body simply not able to handle any more trauma, survivors who have come into my life, pass away.

It does not get any easier, as yet another survivor dies.  It does not matter the circumstances.  In dealing with my own late term survivor issues, with the announcement of a fellow survivor passing away, it is a brutal reminder just how delicate not only my life is, but as I am certain, my fellow survivors will echo the same.

For those who are fortunate enough to not only have never dealt with survivorship issues, or even a cancer diagnosis, it is impossible for you to truly grasp that we cannot “just move on” with our lives.  But as I mourn yet another survivor, and how she lived her life, I began to think about the topic of this post.  Just as there is staging in a cancer diagnosis, if it has not been done yet, then I think survivorship should be staged, or classified as well.

The first classification I would give, would be to those who finish their treatments, and other than their follow up appointments, which coincidently will continue for the rest of their lives thanks to survivors like me who proved that surveillance must be done to stay ahead of any developing late side effects, will get to go on through the rest of their lives without a care in the world.  Their magical 5 year mark will come and go.  For the majority of patients, according to statistics provided by various resources, they will not have to deal with any late side effects because they do not have any.

The next classification of survivors are those who are done with treatments, continue to be followed up, but as time goes on, develop health issues that cannot be explained.  Mysterious maladies and complaints that cannot be diagnosed simply because the experience and education of the treating physician just is not current.  The medical professionals unaware of, or worse yet, unwilling to recognize the late developing side effects from diagnostic procedures, and chemo and radiation therapies, leave patients frustrated, scared, and hopeless.  Many of these patients succumb to a treatment related side effect, and no one ever suspected or diagnosed it.  They also do not even live near or have access to the limited cancer survivorship clinics that specialize in dealing with late effects.

I would place myself in the third classification.  I am aware of my late issues of which I have many.  Although I currently do not have access to my doctors, when I am able to see them, I am subjected to annual testing and procedures to see how far my irreversible and progressive issues have gotten.  But as I  found out with my emergency heart surgery, without awareness and being a strong self-advocate, I would be dead.  But this has been a Pandora’s Box because with the knowledge of my late effect issues (cardiac, pulmonary, muscular, spinal, gastrointestinal, endocrine, urinary, immunological… there are more but you get my point), I cannot turn off the concerns for my mortality.  Because of the increased risks, most of my issues can only be managed, meaning, I have to tolerate the pains, the discomforts, and do my best to prevent the inevitable.  Oh and yes, it is managed only until the issues become bad enough that the risks of correcting are less than the risk of the progression of the issue.  To give you an example, my carotids are fried from radiation damage.  But the risk of correcting them, are too high of a stroke.  Therefore, I have to wait until they are constricted enough that a stroke is risked, only then will surgery be considered.  This is how I go through my life every day, knowing that I have all these issues, and some day, just as with my heart (and other incidents), I will have another issue that has to be dealt with, and hopefully it will be done in time.

The last classification would be of my fellow survivors whose bodies have gone through so much trauma, more than 3 times the surgeries, secondary cancers, health issues.  It is hard enough to believe all of the things that I have to deal with.  But I know of survivors who have survived longer than me, and were treated with much more harsh treatments than me.  And today, their bodies have all but given out.  There are not many options.  They are finally at the crossroads as I mentioned in the last paragraph, the risk of correction is less than the risk of the eventual fatal event.  I know so many people who are in this position right now.  And I often scratch my head wondering why so many continue to fight on.  But they do.  And they continue to experience memories that they never thought they would see.  And even more amazingly, the often offer support to others in need, never revealing just how sick they truly are.

But it happens several times a year in my life, a survivor in this stage, can take no more.  I want to be clear, they have not given up.  Their bodies just cannot take anymore.  And it happened again just recently.  And it does not get any easier to accept.  But there definitely is no way to “just get over it.”

 

Understanding Pain And Temperature


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Unless you have spent any time in the deep south, the following statement is probably going to be met with a major “eye roll” and a comment under the breath, “yeah, right,” but waking up to 43 degrees was not only cold, not only painful, but also reminded me of a condition that I have not had to deal with in over two years since I moved to Florida.

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The picture on the left shows the remnants of winter storm Jonas, with an actual amount of 31.9 inches of snow.  I missed this storm living in Florida.  But in the picture on the right, the second most snowfall occurred back in 1983, which I was a senior in high school.  The remaining three storms like this, were following my battle with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and the last two following heart surgery.

Why do I bring this up?

Treatments from over 25 years ago have left me dealing with some late issues with my body that developed over time.  During cold temperatures, I am reminded of one of those issues.

I cannot recall exactly how my lungs felt prior to my heart surgery in 2008, but I do know that following my surgery, my temperature tolerance dropped about 10 degrees.  Up in the north, I learned to deal with this issue by wearing wool over my mouth and nose, and wearing extra clothes to stay warm.  When did I have to start doing this?  Once the temperature went below 60 degrees.  My cooler weather apparel was often met with mockery, and only those who deal with similar issues can know what I was physically feeling.

The first thing that hits me is breathing in the cold air.  The only way to describe the feeling is that my lungs instantly freeze up solid like a brick.  Your lungs need to expand, and my lungs will not.  My current lung capacity has been measured at 76% from progress damage due to radiation therapy.  In fact, the lower lobe of my left lung is completely “dead”.  The only way for me to get relief, since inhalers do not work, is to get into a warm environment as soon as possible.  The “thawing” out of my lungs if you will, can take up to about a half an hour, possibly more.

But in the meantime, two other issues appear once the cold hits my lungs.  I often begin to have an anxiety attack, at the panic of my restrictive lung disease.  And with that, my breathing becomes even more difficult, the anxiety gets worse, and then the pain hits.  Again, the best way to describe the feeling, is my muscles, especially in my back and hips “constrict” like a boa constrictor is squeezing me.  Again, there is no relief other than thawing out.

My late developing issues from treatments for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma are progressive.  There is only one thing I can do, and that is “manage”.  There is no cure, no reversing what has happened to my body.  My moving to Florida I thought would have helped with this particular issue.  But recently, our weather has turned colder down here.  No, I know I will never volunteer for sub-freezing temps again, or major snowfalls, so I will state that my friends and family in the north will deal with much worse when it comes to cold temperatures.  But for me, 43 is cold enough to remind me what my body has gone through, and still has to deal with.

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