Our bodies are unique complex machines. We may not have a dashboard light that comes on to tell us something is wrong with our engine, but we do have a temperature gauge. You get to know your car. When the temperature gauge in the car rises, we take note, because something could be wrong. It is a warning. We wouldn’t ignore that would we? So why should we ignore our own body temperatures? Just like our individual cars that run at individual temperatures on individual gauges, such is our own individual body temperatures. When it rises, it’s a warning signal.
About a year before diagnosis I developed a low grade fever of 99.0ºF. My temperature is normally 97.4 - 97.6. So 99.0 for me would be like 100.0 for someone who is the perfect normal of 98.6. When my temperature rose to 99º I developed the notion something must have been wrong. I had no outward signs of any illness other then my eyelids being hot. It continued day after day with no other signs. The doctors and nurses had the “what’s the big deal” attitude. Normal is 98.6 period. Especially if they took my temperature and it was 98.8º, certainly I must be a hypochondriac. Even though 98.6 is abnormally elevated for me.
To them, it was only 0.2 above normal. For me, it was a fever. But with them acting like I was being ridiculously unreasonable, I brushed it off as getting older. Body changes. Perhaps a new standard for me. Brain washed?
After being diagnosed with cancer, I asked 3 different breast and cancer doctors if body temperature has anything to do with cancer. 2 out of 3 said “absolutely! Yes!” Near the end of chemotherapy my temperature returned to my normal 97.4.
I then started radiation. Halfway through radiation my temperature began rising again. No other outward symptoms. Hmmmm. I told the nurse, my temperature is higher then normal for me. I asked if perhaps I should start a cancer inhibitor. I was told no and basically disregarded. The day after my last radiation, I started on Aromasin to cut off estrogen supply to any remain cancer cells. Two weeks later, my temperature returned to my normal 97.4. Coincidence?
Because Aromasin took a disabling toll on my joints and muscles, my doctor wanted me to try Arimidex then Femera to see if either of these would be easier on me. On Arimidex, it became easier and easier to move around the longer I was on it. But at the end of 2 weeks, my eyelids grew hot, and my temp was 97.9. It rose a little every day to 99.2 four days later. Now I’m thinking there IS something to fever and cancer detection. It would make sense that it was possible cancer was starting to grow again during the end half of radiation. When I started medication for advanced/metastatic cancer, the fever went away. When I started a different medication, I may have felt better, but is the fever is telling me, the medication isn’t working? I started Femara. Near a week the joint pain is back, I’m becoming less mobile, yet the elevated temperature is still there.
I did a search. I found a re-confirmation of my thoughts and what 2 doctors told me. The body’s immune system may be kicking in to fight the foreign cells causing temperature elevation or the cells are using up the body’s resources to grow, causing temperature elevation. Fever is a symptom of cancer. (What IS a fever for YOU? ) With that information, I might be able to draw a conclusion that Arimidex did not work for me. Which of course brings up the “oh shit, the cancer is growing again” fear.
Next… possible symptoms of cancer…
If you haven’t taken time to smell the roses or laugh lately, try to recall a time when there may have even been no words, when you and your friend saw something or remembered something at the same time, and just busted out laughing so hard you laughed yourself hoarse? How about a time before America’s Funnies Home Videos when you saw someone slip on the ice and go down kinda hard then he looked around to see if anyone was watching, and you tried so hard to not laugh at him, tears streamed down your face instead? Committed to your memory may be a time when you watched your baby roll over off her back to her belly the first time, or how proud you were when she took her first wobbly step. If recalling any of these simple memories can bring a smile to your face, you have “smelled a rose”.
I haven’t been on line reading posts, blogging or surfing. My daughter was off for Christmas break, so I figured it best I just step away from the computer while she was home, so I could spend my time with her. I do believe it’s the first time in a very long time I took time to “smell the roses”.
You ever laugh so hard, no sound comes out? The past couple weeks, we did. By the time the laughter sound came, tears were streaming. Time spent may not have been out and about Doing or Spending, but it was time spent. Definitely not time wasted. We both re learned how fun each other can be. Playing video and board games. Baking cookies from scratch. Talking. Joking. 
Puppies have a healing quality and joy effect all their own. Watching my daughter with the neighbor’s puppies, not only the amusement they bring, but witnessing and detailing in my mind the exchange of good, loving feelings of pure happiness between them brings me enjoyment too.
Smelling the roses. Ahhhh, they smell good.
Nothing has been routine for me since first line / second line treatments. You settle into an odd routine having chemotherapy. There is a continued disruption that becomes your life. You adapt to anguish and pain while in a self preservation mode. There is a repetitive habitual schedule with radiation. While you start feeling better, there is a daily disturbance of travel and reminder of what has happened to you that you never dreamed could. By the time you get home, you are left with little time to do other things. When that is over, keeping with recent tradition, there is a customary standard met with more tests, doctors appointments and new crisis which follow. You are kept busy with ordeals. This is your life. It’s been demanding and hectic. When it ends (or slows down), you don’t know how to proceed. WHAT do you DO NOW? What is your life? Nothing has settled into “normal” yet. The only normal I’ve known for 9 months is sickness and drama. Once I get this thyroid thing, cervical problem, joint and bone pains, and settle into a medication that works for me, taken care of, I can search for a new normal, with routine, balance and quality.
It’s hard to find this new way to live life. You never forget you have cancer. You may have a day or two of enjoyment where you can toss it to the back of your mind, but you are always reminded one way or another, you are not normal anymore. Nothing is clear. In a split second I catch myself in the mirror on the way to the toilet, there’s a hazy distorted version of me, I see my hair growing back. I dream of a day when it will be restored to what it was (which will take a couple of years). Then I recall an article of a beautiful woman with two small children. She fought breast cancer. Four years after she had been diagnosed and treated, her hair restored, she’d passed. I wonder to myself, by the time I’m satisfied with the length of my hair, will it be my time? In a split second all of that races through my mind. Because of a mirror. I needed to pee and I passed the damn mirror. Besides hardships on your body, it’s a burden of the mind. One that leaves you wondering every day “when will it get worse?” “What is going to happen?” “Am I wasting my time?” “What would be a better use of my time?” “Do I spend my time for me? Or do I spend it for others around me?” I tend to think I need to spend it for others, with a small dose of me time. Eventually, I will not be able to spend it for others. Which isn’t something one should think about only because they have cancer. Spending time with your family or people you care about, truly appreciating them, should be everyone’s first priority. Because you never know what tomorrow holds. No one does.
For 2 weeks, I consciously held a pattern. I stayed off the computer, I spent most of my time with my daughter. I spent more time with my husband then I’ve spent in 9 months, which wasn’t much at all really but a heck of a lot more then strangers passing by like we’ve been. Sure there were a couple doctor appointments, but I’ll be dipped! There IS a life away from the computer. I spent more quality time with my daughter. My family. This is it. This iswhat I want. I’m going to find my way into a routine to incorporate the loves of my life.
Routine. Balance. Normal. Hopefully I’ll find it. Preferably one that with plenty of quality family time and rose smelling.
Our bodies are unique complex machines. We may not have a dashboard light that comes on to tell us something is wrong with our engine, but we do have a temperature gauge. You get to know your car. When the temperature gauge in the car rises, we take note, because something could be wrong. It is a warning. We wouldn’t ignore that would we? So why should we ignore our own body temperatures? Just like our individual cars that run at individual temperatures on individual gauges, such is our own individual body temperatures. When it rises, it’s a warning signal.
