Full slips, physicians, and things that go bump in the night.

Today is a new day and the sun came out.  Always something to celebrate in the winter in Eugene!

When last we left our heroes... well, my family, we were having a pair of pukers.  Kelly was cured after one round, but Karissa continued to feel lousy into the wee hours of the morning.  At one point she said, "I've never felt this terrible in my life.  Why do I feel like this?"  Well, if I knew that... The Tylenol stayed down though and she slept through the rest of the morning thankfully.  This morning she seems fine and was indignant that she couldn't go out and play with the neighbor kids.  I don't know if it is contagious, but sharing didn't seem that nice.

I continued my purge, making my way through two more drawers.  At some point, someone told me you can't buy a slip anymore.  Why I would need a slip, I'm not sure, but this information prompted me to keep several slips, including one that fit  me 70 pounds ago (as well as 4 more cup sizes.)  What exactly I was going to use this slip for in the event of a slip emergency is beyond me.  Even I, the rememberer of all things obscure and useless, cannot remember the last time I needed a slip, let alone a full slip.  Away with it, as well as several uncomfortable bras, socks that I hate and never wear, rejected tank tops, and raggedy underwear.  Ahhhh....

I mentioned in an earlier post that I have joined some groups on Facebook.  One is a group of survivors of head/neck cancer.  It is kind of depressing how many of us there are.  What is worse is that so many of us have a similar story to tell.  We didn't fit the profile of what a person should look like with cancer, or our cancer didn't look like cancer.  Like the information about the slip, many doctors and dentists have beliefs that they hold onto even in the face of evidence to the contrary.  "Cancer isn't painful." "You are too young." Leukaplakia/Lichen Planus never turns cancerous." "It is just thrush." So many of the members of this group did not get a diagnosis until they were in late stages because a doctor/dentist (or worse, several) "decided" that it could not be cancer.

Even after having two biopsies with pre-cancerous cells, I had two different dentists say I was at low risk for cancer.  Even after having cancer before, my dentist, oncologist and ENT all missed this cancer despite the fact that I showed them the spot where it hurt and said that this is exactly how it started the last time.  I didn't want to believe it was cancer. They didn't want it to be cancer.  It didn't look like cancer.  It was on the opposite side.  But it was.

What I have learned from my own experiences and from reading the posts of others is to trust your instincts. Also, regardless of your age, insist your dentist do a full oral cancer screening every time you see him/her. Ask your hygienist if they have been trained to look for oral cancer.  You would be surprised how many have little idea what to look for.  The numbers are on the rise for all head and neck cancer.  No one yet knows if this is due to HPV, cell phone radiation, or some other cause, but these cancers are turning up in all sorts of places-- face, ear canal, tonsils, thyroid, sinus cavity, etc. and in younger and younger patients. Constant Vigilance.  That is my public service announcement for today.

In other news, today was a good day for movement.  I cleaned up the straw in the carport and moved three wheel barrow loads of leaves.  I still have a big pile to go, so it felt good to make a dent.  Whether or not my body will think this was a great idea remains to be seen.  The thought of not being able to do physical work is nearly as frightening as not being able to speak.

The Fed Ex driver came to pick up the feeding pumps today.   Sadly we didn't know she was coming, so they weren't boxed up and ready to go yet.  Trying to explain this to her while fending off the barking dog was an adventure.  I knew she thought I was mentally challenged, especially when she said I could just sign my first name.  When I told her that I was fine except for my tongue being removed for cancer, she shifted from overly patient to pity.  Maybe I liked overly patient better.  The nutrition company does not want the IV pole for the feeding pumps back, however.  Maybe Occupy medical would have a use for it.  Left to my own devices, you know I'd be hanging plants from it.

Purging continues.  Adapting to new challenges continues.  Life continues.  To be continued...