So many people reached out to me after I shared publicly about my struggles with depression and it means so much to me. Many people told me that they can relate and that they’re glad they’re not alone. That was my reason for sharing. As alone as I have felt, I wanted people to know that they are not alone.
I had finally found the courage to talk to a divorce lawyer. I had been occasionally donating plasma and trying to save some money to be able to pay the lawyer, because they’re not cheap, even after getting assistance through the Bar referral program. Ironically, it was this action that helps launch me into the next chapter of my story.
Every four months the law requires plasma donations to be tested for certain conditions. When I went in at the end of July and I was told I had to speak to the nurse, I didn’t think anything about it. I’ve been donating off and on for about 6 to 8 months and I assumed it was a regular check up that they had to do. The nurse told me that my profile had been flagged due to a protein electrophoresis. OK, no big deal right? Well she said normally it’s not a big deal unless your doctor was already testing for things like leukemia, lupus, or other autoimmune diseases or cancers. So let’s back up about a month....
At the beginning of June I had gone to see my primary care physician for some really weird symptoms I was having. He had diagnosed me with shingles a few months ago, and I still had a rash/red bumps on my neck. I had been running a low-grade fever for several weeks which I attributed to stress. But my biggest complaint was that I was sweating profusely and constantly. This had gotten to the point where I would have to change my clothes three or four times a day just because I was drenched in sweat. For a while I just assumed it was because I was out of shape, which I am. I’ve been trying to lose weight but was not having any luck. Add all of that to my constant fatigue and almost daily headaches, I figured it was about time to see the doctor.
My doctor ordered a crap ton of tests, looking specifically to rule out leukemia. He also referred me to an ENT to check for oral cancer because I’ve had sores on my tongue since last summer. I saw a specialist last summer and he couldn’t figure it out. And then the kids went back to school and life got busy, and I just stopped worrying about it. My blood work came back ok, so we were kind of at a crossroads. I was going to follow up with an ENT, but the tests were not concerning.
So... the nurse at the plasma center says “normally it’s not a big deal unless your doctor was already testing for things like leukemia, lupus, or other autoimmune diseases or cancers.”
“And what if he did happen to be testing for those things?”
She laughed. “Well, then I’d be a little more concerned.” And when she realized what I meant, she stopped laughing. And told me to follow up with my doctor on Monday morning.
The next step was to repeat the test to make sure it was still abnormal. Wednesday morning I got a call from my doctor. Not his office, not his nurse, my doctor. And just like that I had a referral to a hematologist-oncologist.
I went alone to my consultation with Dr. Muler. I’ve never been in an oncologist’s office before, but it’s not the happiest place on earth. Kenny was being a jerk and I figured if I was going to be on my ie I should get used to doing things on my own. I felt super confident about being there by myself until checked in. Then the nervousness set in. I texted home but I didn’t get a supportive text back. I didn’t get anything. And I felt very alone.
I left with a referral to a rheumatologist. Oncology didn’t think my blood counts were “cancer level worry” but agreed that there is something going on. His guess was the autoimmune route. I left both relieved and frustrated, at the doctors and my life. Yet again I had been reminded I did not have support from the person I should have it the most. And again, another doctor agrees that there is something “wrong” but it’s not his job to figure it out.
On my way to drop Mila off at Safe-T-City (where she told the officers they were “too boring”) I got a call from the nurse at the oncologist’s office. After reviewing my labs over the past 6-9 months, he decided he wanted to do some more tests. Specifically a bone marrow aspiration and biopsy.
The biopsy process was an adventure on Wednesday, 2 weeks from my initial consultation. And now I wait. For 3 weeks. August 14. The day before our 23rd anniversary.
So... I thought I had a plan. I thought I had a plan in action. But someone let it slip and the universe laughed in my face and said “here, hold my beer.”
Haven’t you picked up on the irony of life by now?
