In early August I was really starting to feel the effects of the chemotherapy. By this time I had already developed Type II Diabetes thanks in part to all the weight I’d gained from the steroids. My official diagnosis was Steroid Induced Type II Diabetes thanks. But the way I was feeling was very different from chemotherapy side effects. I truly thought I had Covid or some other contagious illness.
My symptoms were all over the place. I kept getting low grade fevers,body aches, shortness of breath, and a high resting heart rate. I didn’t have any respiratory issues but I was still convinced I had Covid or pneumonia. After a few days of this I finally listened to my mother and called the infusion center, my Oncology NP said I needed to go to the ER just to be safe. My husband was working and I didn’t think I had anything serious so my mom took me in. Nothing makes me feel more like a kid than having my mom take me to the doctor. She helped me get into the gown, and she answered a lot of the nurses questions. I received every communicable disease test and they were all negative. Finally the ER doctor said that because I was getting chemotherapy he wanted to run one more test to check for the possibility of PE (pulmonary embolism) or DVTs (deep vein thrombosis). Sure enough the test came back with elevated levels and a CT scan confirmed that I had a small PE in my right lung. I was also diagnosed with neutropenia, meaning I had no neutrophils and almost no white blood cells. This meant that nearly anything could make me sick, even the food I ate or the outside air.
This led to me having to spend the night in the hospital. And when you’re on a diabetic, heart healthy diet, hospital food is horrendous! My mom was great with helping me get settled in and taking a list of things I needed to my husband. Boy am I glad the Olympics were on so we had something to watch while being stuck in my room. The PE earned me a prescription for a blood thinner, and having neutropenia meant I stayed home for weeks until my numbers got back in the safe zone.
I may be 53 but I couldn’t have gotten through those hard days without my mom. Being diagnosed with a PE was so scary and a little triggering. Our youngest daughter passed away from a PE in 2010, the week before her first birthday. This was the first time I really was scared that I might lose my fight. But I was lucky that we caught the PE early and I had excellent care. I’m so grateful for my family support and my amazing care team.
Comments