Panic Attacks

Awhile ago, I had one of the most draining weeks I have ever had in the past few years. It started with a visit to my "pain" doctor to let him know about a new pain that has been cropping up. This pain is strange because it is not in the same area as the pain I had been experiencing over the past months. It seems to be below the ribcage, and feels like it is more in the abdominal area. I'd even say more like where the left kidney is. The doctor explained that there are nerves in the pelvic region, and when I have waste going through my bowels, it is most likely pressing on these nerves causing the pain. This can happen to anyone, but the tumors and inflammation I have somehow cause the pain to radiate through the left side of my torso causing even more pain in my lower back, left shoulder blade, muscles in the left side my neck, left arm, etc. At times the pain is quite excruciating. But then, it eventually goes away, and when it does, my whole body is exhausted. The narcotics I have been taking to deal with the original pain I was experiencing, slow the digestive process causing constipation, which adds to the problem.

To deal with the constipation, I began eating smaller meals more often and taking Senocot and Colace at night, which has helped me to be able to cut down on the narcotics. While that is a good thing, I found out that cutting back after having all of those narcotics in one's bloodstream, can cause withdrawal symptoms.

In my case, I first experienced extreme fatigue. I had no energy and was yawning like someone who had to stay awake because his life depended on it. Then my mind started playing tricks on me, and I experienced irrational fears. I thought maybe I was becoming dehydrated, and that I would have to go to the hospital for an IV. Then I started believing that if I did that, that was how I would die. I began to believe that this was the end. Fear gripped me and I panicked like I have never panicked before.

The day that the first panic attack set in, Roni came home early from work as she sensed something was going on after speaking with me on the phone. When she got home, she asked if I had taken all of my meds. I told her "no," so the first thing she did was make sure I took the pain meds I needed. After I calmed down a bit, she took the dog out, and I nodded off. When I woke up, I started to feel a bit more normal. Roni had called a couple of my doctors to let them know what was happening. We looked up on the internet what the withdrawal symptoms of Diluadid was, and it sounded like that could be the culprit. Initially, the pain doc said that I had enough narcotics in me, and he didn't think missing a dose of the Diluadid wouldn't have caused the problem. He said this because I also take Oxycontin throughout the day. As the end of the day drew near, I started to feel normal again. But strangely, the next afternoon, at about the same time of the day, I had another panic attack. We spoke with the pain doc again, and this time he said to try taking a Dilaudid an hour or so before I took my 3PM Oxycontin, just to make sure a drop in the narcotics level didn't have something to do with the anxiety. I made it though that day, again, starting to feel somewhat normal by the end of the day.

The next day, again at about 3PM, I started to feel the panic set in, but I was a bit more prepared this time. I had made sure I had taken a Dilaudid before the oxycontin wore off, and even though I still felt like crawling into bed, I decided to take the dog out for a long walk instead. It wasn't easy, and I kept going through the "What if?" scenarios in my mind. But Elke (our dog) and I made it back home after about an hour and a half walk, and even though I was exhausted from the walk, emotionally, I began to feel like I was back to my normal self.

That was probably one of the hardest weeks of my life. The fear of dying was very real, and although it wasn't logical, it made me think about what the cancer was doing. Roni and I had a serious talk about the very real possibility that the trial could fail, and if so, barring a miracle, this cancer could be terminal. It was a wake up call to become more serious about what I want to do with what time I have left in this world, and what I want to accomplish with that time.

Since then, I have been good at keeping on top of the pain, and making sure I take my meds when I am supposed to. I am still working on the "What do I want to accomplish?" question. The reality of what the cancer may do is still there, but the fear of having to deal with it has subsided. I have also come to the realization that my "normal" continues to change. Not always for the better. But just because my "normal" changes does not mean that my life is over. There are still things that bring me joy, things that still make me smile and laugh, things that I still have to take seriously, and things in my life that I am still able to accomplish. Even though I am living with a potentially terminal disease, I still don't know when my life will be over. In the meantime, I have to learn how to make the most of my life now.

Learning how to make the best of my life is a process. A process I continue to ask G-d to help me deal with. So I will continue to live life the best I can. I will continue to share what I have to share. I will continue to help others in ways, that perhaps only I can. I will continue to let others help me in ways, that perhaps they can.

For now, the process continues, and so do I.