Catching up

I had planned to write about the sequence of events for the remainder of March, and of course all of April.  Now it will also include May and a bit of June , as I'm a tad behind in blog writing.  Basically I saw the Bone doc, the Oncologist Doc, an ER doc and an Orthopedic surgeon.  Because in the last week of May, I broke my right leg.

For several months I had been contemplating resuming chemo therapy.   This was contingent upon my regaining the strength in my left leg and actually walking.   That was the plan for the early part of April.   April came and went, my mid-evening crying bouts were getting routine.  I was simply getting tireder and weaker with each passing day.   My other options would strictly be palliative with the goal of minimizing pain.  I made my thoughts know to my  Oncologist that I would likely rely upon his office for pain management. Initially this would consist of two strings of pills to do the 'long acting' control comprising 18 mg, a 75mg nerve pain control, a 10 mg 24 hour anti-depressant, and finally various supplements for Arthritis and Laxatives.  The entire regimen complemented by a 2 mg pill for 'breakthrough pain ("fast acting"?).  That was the plan in April.

 By May my patient care was transitioned from the Cancer Centre to the Hospice of Windsor.  I had a new doctor that would oversee all my pain care management. I also had acquired a new social worker from the Hospice, who was willing to do house calls.   I felt that it was necessary to minimize my migration from point A to point B, not sure why I felt that, but it's one that seems to be working for me.  With all the new medical partners in place, I felt that I could start enjoying the sunny days of warm weather.  Of course I could enjoy them, but no one said they would last.  And in the last week of May, I skillfully demonstrated How Not To Enjoy Summer by breaking my right femur.  I reengaged my pain battle with a new level that saw both my legs declared non-weight bearing, and a serious decision needed to be be made:  I could no longer take care of myself on my own, and would would require daily assistance.  Therefore I found myself within a long-term care facility after entering the hospital and surgery was performed on my right leg.  This surgery would involve a  metal rod inserted to help heal the bones together.  The nature of the surgery was technically easy, but my age, the extent of my cancer throughout my bones, all made the side effects more profound, and not for the first time had I wished that I had not woken up from the procedure.  Recovery would take weeks, and would leave me incredibly weak, bedridden and unable to to do anything for myself.  I lost all sense of appetite and had little appreciation for life. How many more setbacks must be endured before I would encounter peace?

I would be in Hospital for slightly under two weeks when a room opened up at a long term care care facility, and I was moved there.  Room #32_30 would now be my home for the duration of my stay.