Pain: Well that escalated quickly.

Last year, at this time, Chris and I were zipping around New Zealand. We were living our best lives climbing through lava tubes, paddling to volcanoes, hiking to exquisite views-- it was incredible! Things could not be more different in this moment.

For reasons I don't really understand, Spuyten (my tumor) has suddenly decided to no longer play nicely with his neighbors. He is pressing on my L3 and L4 vertebrae which is activating the neurologic dermatomes in my back and leg. Very simply, this means that my left flank is super sensitive to touch, and I have shooting pains from my lower back to my knee.

From last week to today, there have been significant changes in what I can do. I can no longer bend forward, nor can I lean backwards, or twist at all. I can't lift my left leg to dress myself, nor can I stand up straight, and I definitely can not tuck in my pelvis. I can't walk with alternating feet because I can't put full pressure on my left foot, and pushing off my left foot or stretching forward while it is behind me is too painful.  I basically look like Quasimodo.

I spoke at length with my palliative care doc who increased my pain medication significantly. When we discussed the dosing he realized he gave me pill dosing not liquid, so I was already taking double what he thought. To which he replied, "wow, you must be in a ton of pain."

We are working toward managing my pain. Most of my meds require time to build up in my system and I have to titrate up on them.

The most notable side effect is that brain feels super fuzzy and I am tired, (despite taking a stimulant to stay awake). I feel like I've been day-drinking and could fall asleep standing up. My word-finding is not great, and I am just cognitively slow. Other side effects are things like itchiness and constipation. I know constipation is on the way, but I have no appetite so I am not eating much so I might delay that discomfort a bit. Hooray for small victories.

I absolutely can not drive on these meds, so I am experiencing a sense of loss of independence. I am already relying so heavily on Chris and now he must attend to even my small errands. He is amazing and I do not know how to express my extraordinary gratitude to this wonderful man. He does things like wordlessly procuring me an ice pack at 4am when I am awoken by shooting pain from hip to knee allowing me to eventually fell back asleep. Meanwhile, he is also spending his days comforting 92 seniors who are worried about prom and graduation, along with a very sick kitty, and a totally broken wife. He deserves a medal.