It’s been an off day

 Gaze as much as he might, he could see no end to the trees and the leaves in any direction. His heart, that had been lightened by the sight of the sun and the feel of the wind, sank back into his toes. 

Actually, as I have told you, they were not far off the edge of the forest; and if Bilbo had had the sense to see it, the tree that he had climbed, though it was tall in itself, was standing near the bottom of a wide valley, so that from its top the trees seemed to swell up all round like the edges of a great bowl, and he could not expect to see how far the forest lasted.

Still he did not see this, and he climbed down full of despair. He got to the bottom again at last, scratched, hot, and miserable, and he could not see anything in the gloom below when he got there

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

I have used this passage before to describe a bit of how I feel on my off days, not necessarily cancer related specifically, but in general. Intellectually I know that nothing I’m going through right now is going to last forever but sometimes it is very difficult to see the end.

I think some of this is connected to the disparity between how much I need to do and how much I feel like I can do. I have no doubt that I could be doing more than I’m doing now in terms of maintaining the house, making progress in school, showing up for work, etc. if I just pushed myself a little harder. The question that I can’t settle in my mind is how hard do I need to push myself? How hard SHOULD I push myself.

There are two extremes; I could do nothing and just let everything fall apart or I could keep pushing myself to do everything until I collapse. Neither of those are good options but I’m not sure where the balance is. There is a big part of my brain that tells me I’m malingering or being lazy whenever I leave something undone to sit and rest for a while which is useful to a point, I suppose, but it doesn’t seem to have an off-switch. It’s hard to get a handle on what is a reasonable level of activity when that part of my brain is likely never going to be happy no matter how much I do. If it was a voice of encouragement it wouldn’t be that bad; “you’ve got this, keep going, you’re doing amazing, don’t stop” but instead I just have this constant drone about how lazy I’m being and how much time I’m wasting that could be put to better use.

My brain is not particularly helpful a lot of the time.

Catchy Title

I was profoundly unconscious for about four hours there. One of those times when you’re so far out that when you wake up you don’t even know what day it is. Anyway, that happened and it helped a great deal.

I was going to expound on some trivial matter or other but instead I think I’ll go pass out again.

Laziness – Preliminary Results

When you have insomnia, you’re never really asleep, and you’re never really awake. With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy

Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

Edited to add – Was unpleasantly awake and restless, now back to being so exhausted my eyes are crossing. In the space of about two hours I’ve hit polar opposites.

This is really strange.

Treatment #2

The second treatment went very much the same as the first, minus the annoyance of driving and trying to park downtown since I was very kindly given a ride to and from so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.

I absolutely have been more fatigued than usual over the last few days but I’m still not sure how much is medication side-effects and how much is life side-effects. Treatment nurse said it was very likely both. It’s certainly not debilitating, but is is getting annoying. I have a couple days off with not much to do except homework so I’m going to try an experiment, FOR SCIENCE! My hypothesis is that if I spend the next two days being profoundly lazy, my energy level will improve.

I will post the results after a rigorous statistical analysis of the data.

Edited to add – Yeah, this is definitely more than my typical fatigue. I feel like I could go to bed now and sleep until Thursday.

Also, I’m starting to get some of those urinary tract infection-like symptoms. Sitting quietly wasting time playing video games and all of a sudden YOW! GOTTA PEE!

Fun stuff.

Seriously, Fuck Cancer

Disclaimer: This post will be mostly me venting. I’m not necessarily looking for solutions, assistance or even a response. This isn’t an indictment or condemnation of any person or anyone’s behavior, it is merely me shaking my fist futilely at the universe.

Something else I have struggled with since the beginning of this saga, before even I knew for sure what was going on or told anyone anything, is finding a way to express my general dissatisfaction with the world and my position in it without either sounding like I was blaming someone for something they did or didn’t or hadn’t done, or just sounding whiny.

This may also be connected to my nurse brain in a way. In my professional life people don’t generally tell me anything unless they want me to do something about it. In this way, physical medicine is quite different from mental health medicine. No one tells me that they’re having crushing chest pain because they want a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on, they tell me so I’ll do something about it. There is certainly a component of compassionate and therapeutic listening to what I do (I hope anyway) but mostly I’m expected to actively try and intervene in some way that will improve the situation. This is, I think, a large part of why I didn’t really tell anyone that anything was going on; there wasn’t anything for anyone to do. I’ve had versions of the following conversation a couple of times now:

Me: Hey, turns out I have cancer

Friend or family member: Why the f(*# didn’t you say something before this?

Me: Why would I? There’s nothing you can do about it.

Friend or family member: [ExpressionlessFaceEmoji]

It took someone pointing out that I would very likely be kind of pissed off if the situation were reversed and it was one of my friends or family members that had cancer and hadn’t told me to get me to finally realize that people might actually want to know what is going on with me, even if there was nothing they could do about it.

[ArloGuthrie] But that’s not what I came to tell you about [/ArloGuthrie]

I feel like hammered shit today. I worked last night and, due to a combination of things that includes the unhelpful capriciousness of my brain, I haven’t really been able to sleep. Minus three or four hours of fitful dozing here and there I’ve been awake since around noon on Tuesday. I work again tonight (and tomorrow night) but I can’t really call out sick because I don’t have any sick time and I don’t want to miss a whole bunch of shifts this early in the process when it is very likely I will need the time off more in the coming weeks.

So I’m exhausted, dissatisfied with my job (this is a completely separate subject that is more complicated than will fit right now), I still have to go to work for the next two and there isn’t a whole lot that can be done about it.

This shit sucks.

cog·ni·tive dis·so·nance

/ˈkäɡnədiv ˈdisənəns/

noun

  1. the state of having inconsistent thoughts, beliefs, or attitudes, especially as relating to behavioral decisions and attitude change.

Something I have been struggling with since I started to suspect that I had cancer is the conflict between my nurse brain and my normal human brain.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been a nurse for a little while now and, among other things, this has resulted in me having a pretty seriously skewed perspective on what qualifies as being “sick”.

I’ve talked about this before (with people in real life, not here obviously); the categories of “sick” and “not-sick” are useful in pre-hospital, emergency triage and intensive care settings to get a very quick idea of how much you have to worry about a patient. Ideally you should make an initial determination about sick or not-sick within the first few seconds of seeing a patient. These are not categories with strict inclusion criteria or even any objective meaning at all. It’s a very quick, very cursory assessment and can absolutely change as you get more information (the “sicker-than-I-thought” category).

For me, “sick” has come to mean a patient that is very likely to die in the next minutes to hours if you’re not watching very closely and frequently intervening to block their exit from this mortal coil.

“Not-sick” is everyone else.

Not-sick doesn’t mean that there is nothing wrong with a patient, it just means that there is nothing wrong with them that is going to kill them in the next 12 hours.

Astute readers may have already started to get an idea of the difficulty that I’ve been having with my brain on this one.

According to my nurse brain I am not even remotely sick. If I, as a nurse, was presented with me, as a patient, I would wonder why my time was being wasted with this. Right now, by any objective measure, I am solidly not-sick. My vital signs are fine, my lab work has only some very minor abnormalities, and I’m not having any particular physical symptoms. In short, what am I getting all twisted up about? I should just shut the fuck up and get back to work.

Simultaneously, my normal human brain is saying “well if having cancer isn’t worth getting twisted up about, what is?” and continues to tell my sympathetic nervous system that there is a major crisis going on and I should be hyper-alert and jittery all the time.

As is often the case (but absolutely not always, which is a different discussion) the truth is somewhere in the middle. Knowing that, though, doesn’t really make either side of my brain any more willing to calm down and play nice.

Treatment #1

It took considerably longer for me to drive up to Seattle, park, and get checked in than it did to get my first dose of BCG.

Before I had my cystoscopy, the part of this whole thing that I was most worried about was having a catheter placed. I’ve been a nurse for a while now and I would hesitate to even guess how many urinary catheters I’ve put in people. Many of them were sedated or otherwise unconscious at the time but of the people who were awake reactions ranged from saying that it was uncomfortable to screaming like they’d been hit with a branding iron. That wide a spread in peoples reactions had always prevented me from forming any firm opinion on how uncomfortable it may or may not be, objectively speaking (yes, I know – pain is subjective, pain is what the patient says it is, blah, blah, STFU & GBTW).

My experience was that with enough lidocaine gel it really wasn’t that bad. This was quite a relief since I will be getting an in-and-out catheter intermittently for the next few months.

So the treatment itself was quick and not terribly painful. The only difficulty is that I have to not pee for at least two hours after I get the dose of BCG. This is further complicated by the fact that I will need to provide a urine specimen before each treatment. This means I have to find the balance between being hydrated enough that I can give a specimen but not hydrated so much that I’m going to explode when I can’t go to the bathroom for two hours. Fortunately my years working in the ICU and frequently being too busy to take a bathroom break for 12 hours has prepared me for this.

As far as any side-effects, I am unquestionably feeling fatigued but I really think that is more related to going straight from working Saturday night to working on clearing out the basement on Sunday followed by not sleeping terribly well Sunday night. There have, so far, not been any other symptoms.

Interestingly, I got a list of instructions to follow when I do urinate for the first time after getting a dose of BCG. I was told to sit down rather than standing (to reduce splashing I assume) and that I should pour two cups of bleach in the toilet bowl and let it sit for at least 15 minutes before flushing. Obviously there is something with the BCG that they don’t want wandering around in the sewers but what that might be and how bleach stops it from happening is something I will maybe have to investigate more.

Yeah… so this is a thing that is happening

I can’t really imagine why anyone would care but the amount of effort it takes to create a record of what is going on with my cancer treatment is so minimal I figure why not?

This here is the full story which many people have not heard at all and includes details that I conspicuously left out when telling others.

DISCLAIMER: This post, and probably many of the others that follow, will involve graphic discussions of bodily functions that are usually not discussed openly. Also other, potentially gross, medical stuff. You have been warned, proceed at your own risk, etc.

Sometime back in late November or early December I had an episode of passing unusually dark urine. I didn’t really think much about it. I was at work and I was probably a bit dehydrated because all I had been drinking was a particularly strong batch of Market Spice tea. I started pushing fluids like actual water and it went away so I thought no more about it.

A few weeks later, it happened again. I was, once again, at work and had, once again, been drinking probably excessive amounts of very strong tea. My urine was dark but not definitively bloody so, again, I started pushing fluids and thought no more about it. But this time it didn’t go away as quickly. And it turned in to blood. There was, at first, some question; “Is that blood? That kinda looks like blood.” but soon all doubt was removed.

At this point I figured I should probably go see someone about this. The difficulty being that I had already decided I really needed to quit my job and get another which, of course, meant that I was going to have to change health insurance and get a new primary care provider. I didn’t really want to start any kind of process when in a few months I was going to have to start it all over again with a different group of health care providers. Also I still had suspicion that the problem might be related to reduced fluid intake and excessive amounts of acidic tea causing bladder irritation so I stopped drinking tea, continued to push fluids, and eventually it went away again.

Then it happened again, spontaneously (no tea involved) and this time with clots.

The medical term for blood in the urine is hematuria. If it isn’t associated with pain it is (as one might guess) painless hematuria. Hematuria associated with pain, either pain with urination, or flank or abdominal pain can have a number of different causes; trauma, urinary tract or kidney infections, kidney stones, and so on. The list of things that cause painless hematuria is pretty short and the list of things that cause painless hematuria with clots is even shorter. In fact really the only thing on the list is bladder cancer.

Bladder cancer is not terribly common. The number one risk factor for developing bladder cancer is smoking and number two is exposure to certain industrial chemicals. I don’t smoke, never have smoked, and don’t routinely work around any noticeable quantity of toxic chemicals so there was still some uncertainty in my mind in spite of the lack of any other obvious explanation for my symptoms. I wasn’t feeling systemically sick; no fevers or nausea. I knew my kidneys were working because I was making an adequate amount of urine, I wasn’t having any trouble passing urine, nothing. On top of that, I still hadn’t had my new insurance benefits kick in which meant there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it. So I continued to wait.

By April I had insurance again, had managed to get an appointment with a primary care provider and the process of getting a diagnosis was underway. In May I had cystoscopy (examination of the bladder with a fiberoptic camera) which found a tumor and in June I had a TURBT (transurethral removal of bladder tumor).

There are, broadly, two kinds of bladder cancer. “Low grade” tumors, which are extremely unlikely to come back once removed, and “high grade” which are extremely likely to return. The urologist who did my TURBT was confident he had removed the entire tumor and that if the pathology report showed that it was low grade I was going to be pretty much done. Unfortunately it turned out t be a high grade tumor so further treatment was going to be required.

It took a couple of weeks to get an appointment with a different urologist that specialized in the treatment of bladder cancer and what he recommended was a course of Bacillus Calmette-Guerin, or BCG. BCG is an immune therapy that is instilled into the bladder where it provokes an immune response against cancerous cells. Literature shows that it is about 50% effective at preventing tumors from returning. The main side effects are symptoms similar to a urinary tract infection (frequency, urgency and burning with urination) and fatigue which can be cumulative over the course of treatment.

I had my first treatment today.

The process itself is not something I would do just for fun, but it is also not the most unpleasant thing that has ever happened to me. I’ll be getting weekly treatments for two months and then be reassessed with another cystoscopy to see how frequently and for how much longer additional treatments will be needed.

I’m hoping the side effects are going to be minimal but the only way to find out is to get the treatments and see what happens. This is going to be the place where I’ll be tracking treatments, side effects and generally opining about the fundamental shittiness of the whole situation. Follow along with me, or don’t if you have something better to do with your time.