Photo Depiction of the Start of My Year
If you read my stuff, you probably know that I tend to make a pretty big deal out of major holidays and life passages (e.g. birthdays, anniversaries). Yet not a peep for New Year’s 2023. Did Bob slip away for some swell swanky mini-vacation? Did he party a little too hardy?
Oh, no, no, no. I spent the entire New Year’s weekend flattened in bed, and miserable, thanks to the unexpectedly nasty side effects of a new medical treatment I was advised to take.
I could easily get into too-much-information territory, so I’ll try to keep this simple. The thrice-yearly shots that have kept me cancer-free can negatively impact bone density. For several years, I’d been getting twice-yearly shots to protect the old skeleton, with no ill effects.
Unfortunately, this worked too well; my last bone scan in December 2021 showed that I’d gained bone density, and Medicare decided the treatment wasn’t necessary and billed it back to the hospital.
My doctor, with whom I have a long and positive relationship, authorized a switch to a different treatment. Two issues: This involved a half-hour infusion instead of a shot, and there was a list of side effects excluding death but including possible “flu-like symptoms” lasting up to three days.
I’d gone more than 19 years without having an infusion of any kind, and those side effects sounded daunting, considering that I’m typically busy virtually every moment I’m awake. I did delay the appointment to the less busy time right before New Year’s, but I went ahead with the treatment last Thursday.
Oy. I need to learn to trust my instincts better.
Actually, I was fine for the first few hours after I got home, felling kind of superhero-ish. But by late evening, I started to feel lousy. And by the time I went to bed, everything hurt. I mean, everything. If hair can hurt, it did. Those “flu-like symptoms” were more like “hit by a semi-like symptoms.”
The 30th, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day were a blur of trying to find the least uncomfortable horizontal positions from which I watched endless sporting events. My balance the first two days was shaky just walking to the bathroom. Friday night I woke up with chills and somewhat irregular breathing that had Barb thinking emergency room, but we managed piling on enough extra clothing, blankets and heating pads to persuade my body that we were indoors and not out.
The aches and pains subsided by Day 3, except for some additional strains caused by all of those failed attempts to find a comfortable position. I was a bit more functional on Day 4. Today is Day 5, and I’m still several percentiles short of 100 percent, but I’m at least capable of writing a slightly sardonic essay about a New Year’s weekend from Hell.
I’ve sent the doctor a note expressing my unhappiness and await a response. My suggestion: If you have doubts about a suggested treatment, ask lots of questions. If the answers still leave you doubting, ask more questions. And if you still have doubts, defer the treatment until you’ve done more research.
And being someone who always looks on the bright side of life, here’s a thought: If the benefits of this gnarly treatment to my bones exceed the misery it has caused me in at least in the short run, I think I’ll take up karate and do some board breaking. Maybe try out to be the first pushing-70 kicker in NFL history.
This might not be Local Food Forum’s most productive week, but I plan to be back tomorrow with the robust post-holiday indoor market schedule. In the meantime, here are way nicer photos from yesterday’s sunrise.
Thanks, Kim. Yes, after I received the notice that Medicare wouldn't cover, I suggested taking a break from treatments — after all, they wouldn't cover because my bone density had increased — but they insisted that an alternative treatment was necessary. If I'd any inkling how bad it was going to be, I'd have insisted that they first appeal the Medicare decision.
Thanks, Kelly!