A night in the ER, with good company

While some of my friends have been sharing photos of themselves on beautiful beaches, I stretched my legs out as though setting up for the pose of bare feet in the sand ... but on Wednesday it was clogs on my feet on a stretcher in the Brigham and Women's emergency room.

That's because after the light treatment for my graft vs. host disease of the skin – ECP – my blood pressure went so high that my nurse paged the doctor on call. My BP was 200 or so over 100 or more.

As previously stated, the nurses are lovely and caring at the Kraft Family Blood Donor Center at Dana-Farber, where I have been getting the procedure for some two years. My nurse sat and meditated with me and spoke in a soothing voice, but it only went up. The doctor said I should go to the ER. A stretcher arrived and off I went.

Luckily Katie had driven me. She sat with me and somehow we passed the hours as I got hooked up to a blood pressure monitor and got blood tests, a urinalysis, and an EKG. Everything was normal. Slowly it went down to a number low enough to be discharged around midnight. Valiant Katie drove back. We got help from listening to Broadway show tunes on Sirius Radio, which is a time-limited freebie with a new car.

The next day, yesterday, I was tired, but I didn't want to let down the three others scheduled for the morning's tennis game at Bay Road Tennis Center. So I went and played, and I wasn't too bad.

Today I followed up with my internist. Beforehand, I took my own reading and saw that it was normal. Still pretty tired but not wanting to give in to it, I went to an exercise class at the Y, then headed to Springfield to see Dr. Berger.

I told him that it had been going up and down, but never as high as 200. When he said it was time for just a small amount of blood pressure medication, I said I had prided myself on being an athlete with low blood pressure. It was disappointing.

He pointed out that I have had a considerable amount of stress in my life, so it is not surprising.

With the Saint Patrick's Race tomorrow, he asked for a reminder of how many years ago I saw him after the disappointing performance that led to my leukemia diagnosis.

It was 15 years ago. Hard to believe.

He asked if I was running, and I said no, not this time.

He will probably run the 10-K course twice. I barely made it one time through last year.

I will go cheer for Ben, just like he used to root for me.

I'm kind of disappointed about not running and also disappointed about adding a blood pressure pill.

A wise person pointed out that feeling like high BP is a failure is the equivalent of a person with kidney disease feeling responsible for it...and not wanted to get treatment.

I have been doing as much as I can to stay healthy, but I can't do away with the stressors.

Also maybe I should cut back on the Fritos and Cheetos.

It's the little things

When you've been sick and you finally get the big things under control, the little things can be incredibly frustrating.

Of course just because you've been through something major, you don't get a bye from the normal problems. But sometimes you just want to say, "Give me a break already."

I got plantar fasciitis, the inflammation that causes heel pain, after my first stem cell transplant when I had recovered and was running and playing tennis again. I went to the Grand Canyon around this time and while my friends took big hikes, I hobbled along the rim. They said I complained about this more than I complained about leukemia. Anyone who has had plantar fasciitis will know what I mean. It is just infuriating that an area about the size of a quarter can cause so much pain. At one point I couldn't even walk down the driveway to pick up the paper.

I wandered in the podiatry desert for way too long, going to the wrong people, including one podiatrist who gave me cortisone shots that worked only for a little while, who gave me a cumbersome brace to sleep in (which I usually tore off in the middle of the night) and who said, before I finally bolted, that he might slit the bottom of my foot to relieve the tightness that was causing the inflammation.

I finally found the right person, who made soft orthotics in his office and told me what kind of sneaker to buy. I haven't had symptoms in ages. Every now and then I get a twinge, which makes me nervous, but then I double up on my stretching exercises, and so far, so good.

I bring this up because I have a new little something. I hurt the side of my right hand, probably by mis-hitting a ball and straining my hand in the process. Mike taped it for me today at physical therapy, and although it feels better, it is still sore, and I wonder how I will do tomorrow at tennis and how I will do at my first match this weekend. It will be bad news if I can't hold the racquet.

You want me to do what?

A friend wants three of us to run a 10-mile race in May.

Why do I find this so funny?

Because I haven't run more than two miles at the most, and now I'm not running at all,

due to the snow all around and also because after my glorious runs in New York, my knees hurt. It might be easier on a treadmill, but even in winter, I either run outside or not at all. I'm already paying for yoga and tennis, and I can't justify joining a gym.

I asked my friend, Tami, whether she could come up with a shorter race. She said not to worry about it; it's mostly downhill, she plans to do a walk/run, and if I just want to do part of it, that's OK. Of course nobody is making me do it, and, realistically, I'm not sure it's possible. But the idea intrigues me.

Meanwhile, Emily signed me up. Thanks, Em.

This morning we had a three-way phone conversation about their progress in training. Arrgggh.

On Wednesday I'm going to revisit the doctor who built up the heel of my orthotics to take the pressure off in an effort to alleviate the plantar fasciitis. I wonder if my knees hurt because he over-corrected. Hopefully that's the case and he'll make an adjustment. In the meantime, I've been able to play tennis, because my heels feel better and tennis doesn't involve the kind of constant movement that hurts my knees. (Although after watching the tennis players constantly move their feet in the Australian Open, I'm reminded how I spend too much time just standing around on the court.)

I've also continued walking Maddie, though even that hurts my knees somewhat.

Today I came up with an interesting and fun interim plan.

I walked Maddie around the unplowed upper lake, where walkers, skiers and snowshoers have created two parallel narrow paths with a mound of snow in between. Maddie ran around like crazy, playing with other dogs along the way. I did a combination of walking and "jogging" using a gait as though I was cross-country skiing.

It didn't hurt my knees because the snow made the ground feel padded. I went a couple of miles this way. Trying to stay on the one narrow lane was good for my balance. (At right, my running partner takes a break.)

Occasionally I veered off-course, stepping in a pile of snow. Feeling like a kid playing, I let out a little yelp. Maddie turned around to check on me, either wondering if I was OK or wondering why I was acting so funny. (Who knows what they think?) In any case, she looked a little funny also.

Garrison Keillor had a good "Prairie Home Companion" tonight. Talking about how winter can feel really long right about now, he advised against staying in the house too much.

"Get out, get out, get out!" he said.

It's hard to get out. Sometimes it takes me half the day to do it. But it's a pretty good idea.