March -the month of more scans and pains

  These days my calendar is sprinkled with nothing but medically-related appointments.  I start the month of March with a visit to my family doctor for refills of prescriptions, and a B12 shot.  I would continue with a CT scan a few days later.  By now a CT scan is routine for me, and frankly pretty boring.  While the exam took place on Wednesday, March 9th, the preparations started the day before:  drinking the first bottle of RediCat.   Think of the flavour and texture as a sort of chalk smoothie, with a hint of berry.  The second bottle would be brought along to the exam so I could drink it when instructed by a tech.

What made this particular CT different from previous ones was how fatigued I would be, simply crutching from the Hospital entrance to the CT registration.  When I arrived at the front doors of the Hospital, I was offered a wheel chair, but stubborn me felt I could handle it on my own.   I would remember this day on future visits, and when a wheelchair is offered, I say YES!  Eventually I arrived at CT registration, tired, worn out and looking for a place to nap.

Once registered, I was directed to the CT suite and instructed to drink my remaining bottle of RediChalk.  All I wanted to do was just lie down, close my eyes, and rest. Ironically this is exactly what needs to be done during the CT scan itself, albeit with an IV  attached.   This IV's job is to push a liquid that would make my ears and anus warm, and leave me wondering if  I had soiled myself.

Fortunately from previous experience,  I knew those feelings was just that, and I wasn't wetting the bed.  During the CT exam I would be instructed to take  deep breaths,  breathe normally, or simply be informed that the IV push was coming through.  In general there's nothing particularly difficult about a CT Exam

With the test completed and the IV removed, l was free to go home.   Feeling marginally better, I one again eschewed the wheelchair, crutching my way to the outside of the Hospital entrance, and flopping down on a bench, waiting for my ride. With my broken leg (still healing .... ) getting in and out of a vehicle is a challenge.   Getting in and out of my house with its few stairs was now akin to climbing Everest (a very small Everest perhaps).  Suffice to say my landing pad when I finally arrived at the house was crashing on my bed.

It would be March 17th when I saw my oncologist to discuss my results.  Still have that darn cancer chewing away at my bones, still have a slowly healing left tibia.  But a small spark of hope that in a month or so I could be strong enough to resume Chemo.   I felt confident enough to book a Chemo session for the end of April, after all, I felt OK in the leg mobility department.

 Twenty Four hours later that would change, and all my confidence and strength destroyed by one little event. It got worse:  my pain was increasing in my jaw, and my pain management didn't seem to be working.

Halfway through March and I had severely twisted my right knee, formerly the load-bearing leg while my left leg was recovering.  Now it seems I'm literally left without a leg to stand on.