The Pathway of Cancer is Fraught with Anxiety

When I feel OK and have recovered sufficiently from the chemotherapy treatments for my chronic lymphocytic leukemia, I want to do normal things. So, recently, I was feeling well enough and decided to go to an estate sale. Numbers for the sale were set to be distributed at 8 a.m., so I thought it best to arrive before 7 a.m.

I didn’t want to park directly in front of the house where the sale was taking place, so I parked in front of the neighbor’s house. While sitting in my car, I noticed the neighbor bringing out his garbage cans. Nothing unusual about that. However, he came back outside with his cell phone and began to take a video of my car, with me sitting inside, as well as my license plate. At first, I didn’t realize what was happening but then when he pointed the camera right in front of me, I thought to myself, “What should I do?”

My first instinct was to exit the car and tell him that I was there early for an estate sale. But then, I thought this might escalate the situation. And since I was holding my cell phone in my hand, he may have thought it was a gun and would call the police on me.

He was White and I am Black, so sitting in a predominately White neighborhood in the early morning hours implied my guilt simply because of the color of my skin. I was frightened and fearful.

Thinking further, I decided it would be best to just continue reading the meditation on my cell phone. Finally, after about twenty minutes of documenting my face, my car, my exact location outside his house, he went inside and then soon left for work. I figured the likelihood that I would ever return to that neighborhood would be rare, so maybe I could breathe a sigh of relief.

He couldn’t have known there was an estate sale because, in this area, exclusive neighborhoods don’t allow the agents to put up signs until right before the sale opens. So, I could understand his uneasiness about my presence.

When I got home, I found an email from a friend with a poem that she and her husband composed for me. It read as follows:

“The path is fraught,

But you are not.

Your faith shines bright,

Both day and night.

Though you’re not near,

We hold you dear,

And pray for you,

To be and do,

Just as you are:

A shining star.”

Love Polly and Bob.

After reading their poem, I felt very much loved. Their words were so profound, especially because they had no idea how fraught with fear my path was, just going outside for a fun day trip.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been cherishing the life I have and thinking that, if my life is taken away, I’m ready. I don’t have the fear of death I had in the past. I believe I can accept whatever time I have and be grateful for each moment.

It amazes me how much friends really do affect my life. They can be as powerful as an exploding bomb, but they have goodness radiating from them instead of destruction. The poem I received healed me. It healed my heart. It healed my soul.

Cancer tends to put me in an emotional state, full of uncertainty. But this poem showed me that love is all-powerful. Love protects, love trusts, love hopes, love perseveres. Love protected me while I was sitting in my car. The love of friends surrounds me. Friends continue to support me, delivering meals, sending cards, bringing flowers and sending emails.

It’s funny how things can “change on a dime,” as the expression goes. This afternoon, I went to the grocery store to pick up my insulin at the pharmacy. And as part of my exercise for the day, I decided to park in the second lot so I’d have to walk a little distance to get to the store and back. When I was finished and approached my car with insulin in hand, I noticed the security police car flashing lights off to the side of my car. As I neared the policeman, I said hello to him.

He returned my greeting with a wave and a big smile. What a difference a day makes! Yesterday, merely sitting in my car posed an unwarranted threat to a man in his yard. Today, I encountered a friendly policeman who didn’t see me as a threat, but as a grocery shopper, carrying medicine in my bag.

When I went to the appointment with my oncologist, she wanted me to have lab work done but because of some problem in the lab, I had to go back to my home area to have my blood work completed. Afterward, I waited anxiously near my computer for the results in “My Chart.” The results arrived around 8 p.m. and I saw that my platelet count was still low, although it remained at the same level. I will view this with grace and be thankful that the count didn’t decrease any further, which would have put me in a very dangerous position. So, the oncologist will continue my chemotherapy treatments, hoping that my platelet count will increase.

In talking with my oncologist, I learned something new. I told her I went to my local pharmacy and had the flu vaccine and the new COVID-19 vaccine. She advised that those vaccines would lower my platelet count. I had no idea that would happen! She said she understood that I received the vaccines because I wanted to protect myself. Normally, I would have consulted her first, but since I was so anxious about being immunocompromised, I wanted to do whatever I could to be proactive about my health care. As it turned out, the vaccines didn’t change my platelet count. It seems I’m lucky this time, but I’ve learned an important lesson.

At this office visit, I learned another lesson. When the nurse took my blood pressure, it was very low. Since she’d worked with me for weeks, she knew this wasn’t normal. I asked her what might account for this change. She attributed possible causes to dehydration or an issue with the blood pressure cuff. I told her that I’m very faithful about drinking eight glasses of water every day. So, she wanted to take my blood pressure again. She advised that the size of the cuff could be an issue and that the cuff she used on me was too big. When she attached a smaller cuff, she took my blood pressure again and that time, she got a normal reading.

She taught me to be aware that it’s important to check the blood pressure cuff to ensure it’s appropriate for my arm size. If I see that the size is wrong, I need to call it to the nurse’s attention.

They’re so accustomed to using whatever cuff is on the machine that they often forget that each person is different, and they must use the appropriate cuff to accommodate each patient’s needs.

In an earlier entry, I mentioned I knew I shouldn’t cross my legs when my blood pressure is checked because it distorts the reading. Crossing my legs seems to be a natural tendency for me when I’m sitting in the doctor’s office. But I’ve trained myself not to do that. Now, my behavior has changed and both feet always remain on the ground.

So, as I continue on this journey, I keep hope in my heart, yet I always want to be sure I’m facing the reality of my situation. And I always want to be sure I’m keeping both feet planted firmly on the ground, either in the cancer center or firmly on the floor of my car while I read my morning meditations.

My key takeaways:

1. The importance of support from friends during chemotherapy contributed to my emotional well-being.

2. I learned that vaccinations could have a detrimental effect on platelet count.

3. I learned that having the right size blood pressure cuff is important since it can alter your reading.

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