Will the health challenges ever end?

I wish I'd understood how age affects one's health. Even though I saw it first hand, I didn't grasp the concept as my in laws and my parents began to decline. I knew their stamina would wane, that's just part of life, but to fully understand the challenges of aging, I think one must have first hand experience.

By today's standards, I'm not really old. Yes, I'm closer to 70 than 60, but to me, that's still pretty young. I don't necessarily feel my age. Perhaps that's because I push myself day in and day out. Since my cancer diagnosis back in 2014, I've pushed even harder than ever before. I've often asked myself why, but when I think about it, I believe the feeling I need to use up every minute of every day is rooted in the fear of wasting time that I am not guaranteed to have. Funny how a disease can impress that on you.

This year has been extremely challenging. I've been hospitalized more times than I can count. Some of those hospitalizations were planned surgeries and others, complications of surgeries or unexpected issues that snuck up on me when I least expected them.

I don't like hospitals but I will say I feel comfortable in them. I know, even in hospitals where the care isn't the greatest, I will receive some care. That gives me a weird form of security, but I have to say, the last few visits to the ER were definitely not good experiences. In fact, they were pretty bad and I'm not just talking about personnel, I'm talking about uncleanness and ineptitude. I never thought hospitals in our city would be that way. How naive of me!

Today I had a CT scan on my knee. I wasn't expecting to do it so soon. On my last visit to the bone and joint center, I'd had a good many x-rays done. My poor left knee had been giving me problems for the past 2 years. I'd already had a lateral menisectomy and a condroplasty on it. I'd also had 4 cortisone shots. Those bought me some time, but the doc said we were now at a point of making the choice to better my quality of life or keep winging it with medical patches. He said the x-rays revealed my situation was now bone on bone. There was nothing left to do other than a complete knee replacement...OH JOY!

I wondered why they wanted a CT scan after I'd received this news, but the medical assistant cleared it up for me. She said they needed the scan in order to make my prosthetic joint. When she said that, I became very quiet.

My poor body has been through a lot. In fact, sometimes I wonder how I'm still alive with all the pieces and parts I have missing. You could say I'm a miracle, but I think God isn't done with me yet and that's why He keeps letting me go through one health trial after another.

I keep hoping my kids will see and understand the things I didn't as my parents were aging. If they lived closer, I imagine they would. I don't ever want to have to need their help, but eventually it will come down to it.

Aging joints, lack of strength, needing to rest more often, random aches and pains - I've got all of those, I'll admit. It sucks, to be honest. I'd love to have the strength from my youth again, but that won't ever happen.

If this surgery can make me more mobile, I'll be thankful. I don't look forward to all it entails, but sometimes you do what you have to do to keep going.

I've got my walker fitted with little gliding tennis balls and I'm psyching myself up for physical therapy. Just like the train in the Little Engine that Could, a story I used to read my children when they were small, I'm telling myself, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." I sure hope I'm right. I don't ever want to be confined to a wheelchair again like I was after my awful car wreck in 1990. That was a time of excruciating pain and trauma. My right tibia and fibula were completely

crushed and it took almost 3 years for me to be able to walk without pain again. Thank goodness it's the left leg this time. Boy, I'm glad we only have 2 legs!

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out, especially when I read a friend's blog post and I just can't wrap my head around it. This morning, I was reading a post from a fellow breast cancer survivor. She said her cancer has returned and is growing in her spine. As soon as I read the words, I burst into tears. I just didn't understand! We'd been diagnosed with the same type of cancer in the same year. How could it be that her cancer had returned and mine had not? And what made it even more difficult to understand and accept was the fact that she'd chosen to go the traditional treatment route. I'd opted not to do that. She'd endured chemotherapy, radiation, and the anti-hormone therapy afterward. I'd refused chemo, had done 28 rounds of radiation, and had only taken the anti-hormone drugs for a couple of months. It just didn't compute and it certainly didn't seem fair. But that's what sucks about cancer. It doesn't follow the rules.

Cancer the gift that keeps on giving - the high cost of cancer

There's a basket of bills sitting in the corner of my bedroom. I try not to look at it as I enter the room but I know it's there. Its contents spill out onto the floor whenever my husband stuffs another bill into the basket. Usually, when the mail comes, he gets it first so he can filter what I see and what I don't see. Since he's the only one working, he takes care of our financial responsibilities and while I'm thankful for that, I'm not ignorant about our mounting bills. Cancer is expensive. Even if you've reached maintenance phase, it's costly. There are always tests to be run, blood to be taken, doctors to see. It never ends. Just knowing this will be a continual process for the rest of my life frustrates me and the alternative, death, will be my only way out. It would be nice to know that cancer could be a once and done kind of thing but that's only wishful thinking. Everyone knows cancer is a long and very involved illness. I had no id

Incoming!

When I was a kid, I remember listening to my Daddy occasionally talk about being in the service. Those occasions were very rare so whenever he'd talk, I'd really listen. Once he told about being outside a bunker in Japan. He said planes were flying overhead and he heard a guy yell, "Incoming!" They knew that meant it was imperative to take cover and they did, but some of the soldiers weren't fast enough. They lost their lives in a split second. That one word was a very serious warning and one I never forgot. I think my eyes bugged out of my head when he first said it although he didn't say it in a frightening way. I imagined the sounds of aircraft overhead as the warning went out. And imagined how I'd have felt if I'd been right there with him. I'd have been petrified, probably unable to move. No wonder so many soldiers came back from war with post traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD). And when they were freshly home, it didn't take much to set t

Journey Out of Pink

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