Tag Archives for illness

My Legs Remind Me Of Elephants

My legs and feet have been swollen, to differing extremes, every day for the past week. When I say swollen I don’t mean the type of swollen you get after walking all day. I mean swelling that’s making it difficult to walk. There is so much swelling it’s impossible to see whether I actually have ankles. My legs look like my feet are stuck to the ends of my calves without the forethought that I might need to move my feet independent of moving my entire leg. The swelling is also making my usual pain more difficult to bear.

I’ve been taking photos of the swelling to document it for my doctors. I started taking photos of changes to my legs and feet last summer when the swelling first started because it was a new symptom but it was intermittent; and I thought it would be valuable for my doctors to see what was happening. The photos I’ve taken this past week show a new pattern in the swelling. In the past, elevating my legs for the day would help reduce the swelling. I don’t know why, but staying off my feet and elevating my legs isn’t helping now.

I emailed the photos I took today to my family doctor so she could see how severe the swelling is. She responded to my message immediately and asked questions about whether I have other symptoms. She asked, “Do you have any shortness of breath, chest pain or coughing?” Luckily, I don’t have any of those symptoms. Because I don’t have any of the symptoms she listed, she said we would discuss the swelling when she sees me. I called the office and scheduled an appointment for the earliest time slot, which is this coming Monday.

The photos I took this morning reminded me of elephants’ legs. I looked up some photos on Google, and amazingly, those photos opened memories from a happier time in my life. The memory was about a day I went to our local zoo a few years ago. It was a special day because it was the first trip to the zoo for the toddler daughter of friends of mine. She was so excited to see all the animals, and it filled me with joy to be there for her first visit to the zoo. I felt a small piece of that joy today as I thought about it. This photo of an elephant is from that day.

My Legs Remind Me Of Elephants

The elephants we saw that day are no longer at our local zoo. They were moved to an animal sanctuary in a warmer climate where they can roam through fields with tall grasses. I hope they are happy in those fields and are being well cared for. I’m happy I have the memory of that day to look back on, even if the swelling of my legs was what made it surface.

 

Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock – Joy & Pain

Gratitude and Creativity: We Rise By Lifting Others

The wife of my friend R has cancer. It started as colon cancer for which she had surgery to remove the tumour followed by radiation; and her doctors believed they removed all the cancer. Unfortunately, after a follow-up CT scan they found a new cancerous tumour in her liver. They surgically removed that tumour along with a significant piece of her liver and again treated her with radiation. About two months ago, they found another tumour on her liver. She started radiation treatments for the new tumour a few weeks ago, trying to shrink it, but her oncologists now believe she needs another surgery to remove this tumour too. The looming question is whether there is enough of her liver left from the previous surgery to cut any more of it out.

My friend R is losing sleep over this every night, but he’s trying not to let his wife see it. He’s worried about his wife and her prognosis, but can’t let her know how worried he truly is. In their marriage, he is always the level-headed, strong, practical, rational thinking being. He’s the one that gets things done and takes care of everyone. He manages the household finances, figuring out when they can splurge and when belts need tightening; and he works at pulling his introverted wife out of her shell by trying to include her in his various circles of friendship, taking her on trips to far off places, and always putting her first.

Unfortunately, R’s wife has never warmed to me: even though he and I were friends, long before he ever met her. Her excuses for not liking me have ranged from I’m too young – they are about fifteen years older than me; I’m single – my past relationships have never changed her attitude, and I learned that only a marriage will suffice; and I’m too attractive, which as far as I’m concerned is about her lack of self-esteem. R has hosted dinner parties, where his wife has exchanged so few words with me it was obvious is efforts to spark a friendship between us, were for naught. So, our friendship – R’s and mine – exists away from his wife’s lack of fondness for me.

Even though she’s not fond of me, I’m worried about her. I’m worried that the recurrence of her cancer is a bad sign. According to R, one doctor is concerned that during the last surgery – when they removed the first tumour on her liver – they may have taken too much of one lobe of her liver to make sure that the tumour would not regrow. If that’s the case, they may have to rely heavily on radiation to shrink this tumour then follow up with another CT scan to see whether she needs more radiation or if they have to attempt to remove the remaining mass with surgery. For both their sakes, I’m desperately hoping the radiation works.

Recently, R told me that his wife has lost interest in all the hobbies and activities she used to do before she became ill. I’ve decided to send her a gift that I hope will lift her spirits. I know that she loves flowers: she wanted to open a flower shop when she retires from her current career. I can’t give her a flower shop, but I can give her some adult colouring books with drawings of flowers and gardens, and a set of coloured pencils. My hope is that the simple act of colouring will soothe her mind, distract her from thinking about her illness and pain, and, I hope, re-spark her interest in the things she used to love doing – as it has for me.

We Rise By Lifting Others

I can’t count all the ways over the course of our friendship R supported me through a tough time, or said or did something to lift my spirits. I want to support him and his wife in any way I can. I know that what I’m doing isn’t much, but when I told him about my plan, he was happy and grateful; and I hope it helps his wife, even if it’s just to put a smile on her face.

 

Cyndi Lauper – True Colors

 

Struggling With Acceptance

I’m struggling with acceptance: acceptance of my own circumstances. Currently, I have no control over what my life looks like from day-to-day because my pain is so unpredictable. This past week I suffered through multiple days with feet and legs so swollen they hurt and made it hard to walk. I didn’t get much sleep either, and as I write this, I’m in the midst of a pain flare for which I’ve had to take the highest doses possible of my pain medications for a few days. If I don’t get some relief with this amount of pain medications, I have to go to the emergency room to get help.

What I’ve outlined is only some of what I can’t accept on days like this. Over the last little while, I can’t accept that after more than two years of countless tests, so many invasive procedures, and a rather risky surgery, I have no pain relief. I can’t accept relying on handfuls of pain medications to allow my body to function, while they cloud my thinking. I can’t accept that the only time I don’t feel pain, is when I’m asleep; and the irony that sleep is a state that is so difficult for me to reach because of my pain. Nor can I accept that the sleep I so desperately need sometimes never comes or, when it does come, is interrupted by my pain. This cycle makes me feel like a helpless hamster performing on a spinning wheel for a treat that never comes.

As much as I’m having difficulty accepting my pain, I’m having even more difficulty accepting the compassion and generosity of the people in my life. The people who are trying to help me cope with the pain and all the adjustments I have to make in my life. I know this doesn’t’ make sense, but it’s hard to go from living an independent life with what seemed like endless years of adventurous activity ahead of me to being someone who can barely get out of bed some days. I know I have trouble accepting their compassion and generosity toward me because I’ve always had trouble showering myself with these things. Although, I have no difficulty expressing and abundantly giving these things to others – and I never have, not even now that I’m ill.

I’m starting to question whether this lack of acceptance and being hard on myself, and having expectations that others don’t have of me – not even my doctors – are harming my health. My therapist has an exercise he asks me to do where I am to imagine that I have a close friend or a twin living with my challenges and feeling as I do. I have to give them support and tell them what I think about how hard they are on themselves. The result is always the same: I’m able to see how ridiculous it is that I can feel compassion and empathy for someone else, but unable to feel them toward myself and unable to be gentle when attending to my needs. When we finish this exercise, I promise to work harder at being gentle with myself because I know it’s the right thing and best thing to do for myself. I do try. Really, I do, but it’s hard. It gets harder each day that I don’t know what to expect from my body.

I’m afraid that my struggle with acceptance is doomed to continue as long as my pain continues and will need my attention for a long time to come. Whenever I feel this way, I remember this quote, “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.”

If Your Compassion - Buddha

I believe this is true, so I know the right thing to do for myself, to break my struggle with acceptance of my pain and my changed life is to treat myself with more compassion, just as I would with someone I care about.