After two weeks, I called about the fatigue and nausea.
That was Friday, May 1. That was probably a tactical error on my part. Calling on a Friday. Probably edema (swelling in the brain). Option 1 jump on a steroid. Option 2 move up the brain MRI appointment and see what was happening in there. Obviously, I pick the no steroid option. Appointment schedule for Sunday morning. Try to keep calm. Try not to get ahead of ourselves. Try to get someone to watch the kids without telling them why. Smile. Just a spring weekend with possible brain edema and definite nausea.
On Monday, I had a message that the MRI was clear by 7 in the morning (awesome patient care). So what's the deal with the nausea. Tests are clear so I go into work and get busy. Tuesday is the same.
Wednesday I wake up vomiting and dizzy. I update the various doctors. The new symptoms concern them. There was an extended discussion over the next two days about whether I needed to go directly to the ER or see my neurosurgeon on Friday morning. I believe I received a heathy dose of litigation risk management rather than thoughtful managed care.
In the middle of this, I had to decide whether I was well enough to travel to Austin for a dear friend's wedding. Over the past eighteen months, I've had a lot of grief for my boys and my family, but for whatever reason, I have not focused on my personal loss - fitness, travel, my career. Canceling the trip sucked. Definitely one of my shittiest personal losses of this disease of losses.
Friday I had a referral to an ENT specialist for possible benign positional vertigo. Just something regular everyday folks get. I had to dose and medicate myself on my various supplies to make it through the weekend, but today, I got the confirmation. No new cancer. No swelling. No tumors. A little vertigo. No pill needed. Do some head exercises. Symptoms will lessen. No follow up required. Jim and I hardly knew what we were supposed to do. The answer was leave the appointment. We forgot it could be so easy.
So Mother's Day was squashed in there between the neurosurgeon and the ENT fellow. The boys delivered a beautiful day. Miles, predictably, wanted to know when Father's Day was and what we would do to celebrate Jim. If I didn't see him playing basketball and hockey around the clock, I'd accuse him of bribing these boys. But they just adore him. Even on Mother's Day they don't check their loyalty.
I spent the day a little addled. Emotions. Nausea medication. Champagne. But also full up on gratitude. Gratitude for Jim's endurance. That man has had a tough year (a year ago we weren't even done with chemo). Gratitude for our families' love, spiritual support and unflagging confidence.
Gratitude for our rich community of friends. And of course, my juicy, sassy, demanding, exacting boys. Where did they get that nerve?
