I had an appointment with my radiation oncologist on Thursday morning. He diagnosed the pain and swelling as localized lymphedema. I'd considered that possibility before, but my several sources of information only mentioned swelling down the arm, not under the arm. I don't understand why sometimes it's localized and sometimes it isn't. He said that physical therapy might be very helpful and referred me to a clinic here in town. They're supposed to contact me sometime this week. I'm enormously relieved that it's nothing more serious, although lymphedema, untreated, can produce disastrous results. It's also really unattractive.
Thursday evening I fell four times. Four times. That's excessive, even for me. I'm not sure why I fell the first two times, although I think all of them may have been a result of having my eyes dilated earlier in the day. I had an opthamologist check the progress of my macular degeneration. (It didn't get any worse--Yay!) It's possible that, even though it seemed my vision was back to normal, there may have been some depth perception distortion.
Anyway, the first couple of times I fell I was just walking around in my house. I didn't sustain any injuries. The third time, I misjudged the two steps down from my bedroom into the living room, slipped and sprained my ankle. Within about an hour, I was going through the den to let Andy the Demon Dog outside, fell and bruised my knee. Both the huskies' crates are in the den, but his is close to the path to the back door. I usually keep the crate door cracked so he can go in if he wishes. I've had disastrous encounters before with the wide-open crate door and I'm actually a quick study when it comes to ways to prevent collisions. I've had a lifetime of practice.
I guess Hubby left the crate door wide open and I didn't turn the lights on in the den. Too much time and trouble to turn on lights, you know. I slammed into the door with my knee and just collapsed on the floor. Luckily, the knee wasn't sprained, too.
Earlier in the evening, I accidentally whacked my head against a cabinet door. I have a bruise on my nose and forehead. They're not bad; they just look like maybe I'm not the most fastidious person in the world. My husband thinks I'm trying to get him arrested for assault. (Note I did not say "domestic assault." I think it minimizes the crime.) The most amazing news? I did not go to work. I always go to work with sprained ankles. Yes, I have them rather frequently. I think it runs in the family; my mom's ankles collapse for no apparent reason.
Today, I had my annual skin cancer check with my dermatologist. She found an area on my lower back that looked a little weird. It wasn't a mole or anything like that; it was a gray area that spread across my hips. We did a biopsy; results expected within 3 to 5 days. I'll have to have stitches taken out in a couple of weeks.
The great news here is that if it turns out to be something scary, my beloved Dr. Ross is an accomplished skin cancer surgeon. As a matter of fact, he consults throughout the country on difficult cases. Lucky me. Have I mentioned lately how much I love him?
Last Wednesday was Hubby's birthday. I was confused. I thought it was Thursday. Good move. I don't know--I was confused about the date all last week. Who am I kidding? I never know what day it is. I mean I'm not even sure if it's Tuesday or Thursday. It's either the monotony of daily life or the lingering effects of chemotherapy. I like the latter explanation later.
I'd already bought a gift for Hubby, so I was clear on that count. However, I didn't wish him a happy birthday until he pointed out to me that I should have. I noted that he forgot our wedding anniversary last year. We're even now.
Aside from giving you a blow by blow account of the numbers of loads of laundry I did this weekend, that about wraps it up. How timely. It's only about ten minutes before I get to go home. I'm working on being much more entertaining in the days to come, so don't give up on me now.
