In May, I wasn’t feeling well. I was weak. I was more tired than I’d ever felt. Chemo was over, my surgery was done,, and I expected to feel better.
We were living in a new place for the summer. My niece had a friend who had a friend… This friend was going to Berlin and wanted a housesitter. For a low rent, we’d be living in her two-bedroom house. We were about two weeks away from having nowhere to live. We took the summer lease. It was a nightmare. The house was large but stuffed in every corner, every drawer with furniture and lamps and every ornamentation you can imagine. The fridge was bursting with food, the freezer was stuffed to the brim, the closets were the same. Where were we to put our food, our clothes? And the stairs. They were long and steep. I was about to have surgery. I could barely manage the stairs already. I decided in advance that I would have to stay upstairs in the bedroom (also stuffed with furniture and effects (claustrophobia et in). The bed was very high. But there was a balcony. I had the door open much of the time until Krish said too many flies were coming in.
And here I was weak and trapped. The three months ahead felt daunting, punitive, impossible. I knew we would make it but there were times I plunged into depression and anger. How was this my life now?
The weakness started to worry me when even getting out of bed or brushing my teeth or even turning over in bed was an incredible effort. Going to the toilet and back taxed me and my heart would thud alarmingly each time. I emailed the nurse to ask could I please have a blood test to see what was going on. I’m glad I did. I had anaemia. The doctor came to my chair to tell me that I could have a blood transfusion the next day or I could begin iron pills instead. I chose the pills. I was to go to my GP to see what else might be going on. I shouldn’t be anaemic this long after my chemo had ended.
That evening I went to the GP’s office to see the urgent clinic team. They said that I could be called to come in for an infusion the next day or Monday. They assured me that I would recover but it would take time. They described it as me ‘running on 75% battery’ – I felt it was more like 10.
No call arrived. On Monday I called the office who said they would look into it. On Tuesday I called them again and left a message, I needed a call by 2pm or I was calling an ambulance. I called. Two paramedics arrived and after some testing they asked if I wanted to go to the Emergency department. Yes! Once there and speedily behind a curtain I started to feel like I might pull through. I was there for hours getting several types of tests. Eventually around 8:30 they asked if I wanted an iron infusion. Yes! Krish and I ate turkey sandwiches – so much better than at Mt Sinai – and finally went home with some hope.
It’s now 31 December. I’ve been taking my iron pills since that emergency room visit. My iron levels are considered good. I don’t know what happens if I stop the pills. It”s a question for my GP, who I will see in about a month. I never want to feel like that again. Ever.