Terminal velocity

Dictionary definition of ‘terminal velocity’

noun

1.

Physics .

a.  the velocity at which a falling body moves through a medium, as air, when the force of resistance of the medium is equal in magnitude and opposite in direction to the force of gravity.

b.  the maximum velocity of a body falling through a viscous fluid.

2.

Rocketry, Ballistics .

a.  the greatest speed that a rocket, missile, etc., attains after burnout or after leaving the barrel of a gun.

b.  the speed of a missile or projectile on impact with its target.

Not quite the meaning of the heading above – unfortunately my definition of the title is something quite different.  It is how fast I have gone from being on chemo to how fast the cancer has taken off when I went off it.  in other words the ‘velocity’ at which I have become a ‘terminal’ cancer patient

When I made the decision to stop chemo 6 weeks ago all of us including my oncologist Dr H had an expectation that I would have a couple of good months before the cancer really started ramping up again  … how wrong we all were.  My blood tests of 6 weeks ago showed my CA 15-3 tumour markers had fallen to 174 and my liver function (GGT) was a good steady 117

I went away two weeks ago on a trip to the beach town of Whangamata (was going to do a pictorial blog post of the great time we had but thought I need to update you on this news first ) with my friends from uni (OH joined us later in the weekend) and realised then how much my appetite had dropped and also that I couldn’t stand in one place for more than a moment without getting quite dizzy and woozy.  I also had two bouts of unexplained nausea – one on the Sunday morning after which I slept for 3 hours and one on Monday evening heading home with OH.  The bouts of nausea and wooziness then became more regular and my appetite dropped right off so I knew something was going on, but nothing really expected me for the news that I got on Wednesday.

When I told Dr H at my oncology assessment the symptoms that I had been experiencing and then him doing a physical exam of my abdomen coupled with my blood test results the evidence was irrefutable. The liver just on physical examination was significantly larger than it had been  6 weeks earlier and it was the cause of all my issues – it was large enough to be pressing on my stomach restricting how much it could hold and the reason I was feeling so dizzy/woozy when standing was that it was actually pressing on my femoral veins so that my blood wasnt able to circulate properly and my brain wasnt getting enough blood flow.

Then he divulged the results of my blood test CA15-3 had jumped from 174 to 2060 and GGT had jumped from 117 to 1165 which meant my liver was no longer able to cope with the tumor load without affecting its function – that is my liver function was starting to be impaired and will ultimately fail .  When I asked him a time frame, while I had prepared myself for the fact when my liver started to fail I would have very little time I wasnt expecting his answer.  He hesitated and said worse case scenario 3-4 …weeks (!!!?@@ was appearing in my brain at this point) best case scenario 3-4 months – in all likelihood somewhere in the middle of those points but if I got ill at all it would be looking more at worst case scenario because at this stage my liver can’t handle me getting a cold on top of the tumor load.

He put me on steroids to try to take down some of the inflammation that the enlarged liver has caused to surrounding organs, He said I would be due to have a follow-up visit with him in 6 weeks but I would now go under the doctors at hospice for more routine symptom management.  He is not sure I will be well enough to travel to the appointment in 6 weeks but he will schedule it in the hope that I can.  Before I had my assessment they had been scheduling me for an MRI just to see the state of play and I had just received the appointment for that but Dr H said given my symptoms and the blood test results the MRI wasnt going to tell us anything we didn’t already know and that it was a waste of a day that I could be spending doing something more important or enjoyable.

One good note I can say about velocity at this point is having already been in touch with the hospice and being registered with them and they know what my needs might be when I rang them yesterday morning (Thursday, the day after the oncology appt) the hospice nurse came out and visited me later that morning and today (Friday) I was delivered a shower chair, an electronic lazy boy and a wheelchair. The shower means I can sit while showering thus not getting dizzy/woozy standing in the shower. The electronic lazy boy means I can sit/lie with my abdomen not scrunched up therefore allowing me to eat easier and as time goes on, if I get weaker it also has a function of helping me stand up.  And the wheel chair means I can still get out and about on fine days.

wheelchair

shower chair

electronic lazyboy

The family is all in a bit of a state of shock but because we have already talked about a lot of things and half-planned out some of the eventualities now it is just a matter of putting what we need want in place.

The hardest thing is to let go of my independence from now on. I can’t drive myself anywhere or do anything by myself and I need to have people to help me – the family is rallying around and I am trying to schedule others who want to help around them.  This is the time when I do need to accept the help that people want to give.

There will be some follow-up posts to this one to clarify but I thought I better update you all as to what was happening.

Posted by jaydub26 on July 19, 2012

https://getoutgertrude.wordpress.com/2012/07/19/terminal-velocity/