Test Results

French Word of the Day: rémission (ray-miss-ee-own)- remission

The test results for the chemotherapy and in, and they are looking fabulous!  I would have been just a touch angry if the doctor had come back and said, “Well, that whole 6 months of chemo thing was a bust.”  Luckily, her words were, “Your levels are almost to normal! (Except for some abnormalities due to your disease.)”

Please note that this does not mean I’m cured.  I’ve had to specify that a lot.  I think every time I speak to someone about it I confuse people.  To save myself some time, I’m going to write the conversation I’ve been having with everyone.

Person: Oh my God, your results are good! So you’re completely cured!!!!
Me: Um, not quite.  It’s under control.  But not fully.  My kidneys are no longer being destroyed.
Person: So you’re not better? Do you have to go on chemo again?
Me: No, I’m better!
Person: But you just said you weren’t.
Me: I’m better than before.  My body is no longer attacking itself.
Person: So you’re cured!!
Me: You can’t cure lupus. It only goes into remission.
Person: So you’re in remission!
Me: Not yet. I’m going to be taking a special medicine for at least the next 2 or three years to control everything.
Person: But I thought you were better? I’m so confused.
Me: Tell me about it.  I’ve been confused for the last 8 years.

 

In celebration (and because my hair has grown back in the last two months), I got a haircut.  Check it:

I might have gotten a new photo app that I'm playing around with.
I might have gotten a new photo app that I’m playing around with. (Just for the words.  The bad lighting and poor photo quality are all my own.) My hair might also be slightly frizzy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Days Until My Next Parisian Pain Au Chocolat: 16

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Cinco de Chemo

French Word of the Day: cinq (sank)- five (I realize I’ve written it in Spanish everywhere else.)

Well folks, we’ve reached numero cinco.  My veins weren’t cooperating, so I got stuck twice.

You can kind of see the bruise in this photo:

Relaxin' in my chair
Relaxin’ in my chair

I was trying to get a decent photo for the blog while sitting by myself.  I tried to only take pictures when no one was looking, which turned out to be difficult in a room full of people.  I’m sure it’s not everyday the nurses get to see a patient taking selfies while receiving an IV.

This chemo was the least fun.  (To be fair, no chemo session is “fun.”  They’re rated on a scale from “blah” to “Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”)  I passed out on the coach when I got home. My mom- being the fabulous woman she is- did my laundry while I was sleeping.

This morning, I woke up several times to get sick.  I decided my fellow commuters might not appreciate me throwing up on them, and stayed home from work.

5,000 saltines later, I’m feeling better.

Only one more to session to go!

Just A Normal, Everyday ER Visit

French Word of the Day: Urgences (er-jaunce)- the ER

This is a bit long, so I littered it with pictures to entice everyone.

I am myself, so it was only a matter of time before I ended up in the ER.  Quite frankly, I’m surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.  I’m not exactly good at performing tasks like walking in straight lines.

The day before my visit, Sunday, was actually fairly normal.  I did yoga and then Arnaud and I wandered around Monmartre.  Here’s a bit of Sacre Coeur:

My picture focuses on the Merry-Go-Round.  Clearly the more important of the two visual objects.

We went behind the basilica and I found this building:

I assume it’s the Rectory… but you know what they say about people who assume: they’re always right.

We walked just a few blocks away and found a street littered with sex shops.  I thought its positioning was completely appropriate to one of the most well-known religious sites in the world.

This was on the street, but has nothing to do with either sex or religion:

For those who can’t read it, it says: “Bakery, Patisserie…  GREEK SANDWICHES!”

Only three things I’ve been trying to find in the same place for my entire existence.  I absolutely had to see the inside after such a sign.  I was pleasantly surprised to find this:

You see that and you think to yourself, “Okay, I’ll let you offer me Greek sandwiches too.”  I didn’t actually buy anything, but now that I know where I can find pastries and Greek sandwiches in one building… I probably still won’t go there.

So Arnaud and I parted ways and I reposed a bit before attempting to go to sleep.  I decided to be really good about it and go to sleep at 11pm.  My internship was the next morning at 11am.  I was fully prepared to get a proper amount of sleep.

When I lied (lied, not laid… hens lay, people lie… must remind self every time I write this) down, my neck began to hurt.  I couldn’t move it.  It felt like someone had taken a bat and struck it repeatedly.

I’m a bit forgetful sometimes, but I think I would remember someone hitting me with a bat.

To make matters worse, my neighbor decided this was the night she wanted to watch her television.  It wasn’t too loud, but I have supersonic hearing that magnifies when I attempt to sleep.  I can hear a pin drop in the next house over.  I let her watch for an hour, but then decided I’d had enough and banged on her door.

She didn’t respond.  I got tired of knocking and attempted to lie down with a sweater over my ears.  When that didn’t work, I banged on the wall.  And then again.

I went back out and banged on her door again.  At 3:30 am when I was starting to worry she had been murdered, she woke up and was all “Oh, do you want me to turn down the tv?”

No.  I’m just knocking on the door to ask for a cup of sugar.

My shoulder didn’t want me to sleep… even though I had complete silence.  The next morning I trekked to Shelley’s office and collapsed in it and said something along the lines of “No sleep.  Need sleep.  Pain.  Hurt.”  She called my lupus doctor, but he decided to go out of town this week.  I’m sure he and my lupus planned this together.

We went to the ER where they gave me pain meds and a really hot doctor asked me questions about my shoulder.  He’s convinced I pulled it doing yoga.  I’m not sure I agree that something I’ve done 4 times a week for a year without any neck problems just decided to hurt me, but then again, I don’t have a medical license.  The lupus doctor we saw today didn’t think it was lupus either, but he’s contacting my real doctor and letting him know.

The ER visit only lasted an hour.  I was impressed.  I don’t think I’ve ever had one under 5 in the US.

They gave me more pain medication and I was able to move my left arm properly.  Always a joy.  I then went home and took a much-needed nap.

I told Théo why I hadn’t been able to go to my internship, and he brought me these:

(Yes, that is a Sox cup for a vase.  Vases weren’t my main packing priority.)  This makes the 3rd bouquet of flowers I’ve ever received from a guy, so I was most pleased.

He also brought and made me dinner, which was nice to not have to worry about.

Now I’m just chillin’ and restin’.  Shelley has ordered me to take it easy for the next few days.  I feel much better already, but she doesn’t want me to overdo it by starting my internship tomorrow, so I’ll wait until next week.  This means it’ll extend into my Spring Break, but as I haven’t booked anything yet, I’m not worried.

In my boredom, I have made a twitter account.  This is mainly because I’m utterly convinced that everyone in the entire world needs to hear every thought that crosses my mind and because I want to feel like Taylor Swift and I are friends in real life: http://twitter.com/#!/megselise I’m willing to follow people to make it look like I have real friends.

Not sure I’ll have much to say in the next few days, as I plan on being boring.  I am feeling better though, so no need to worry!

Pain au chocolat count: 56