Pneumonia
I was diagnosed as having leukemia in December 2002. The symptoms of the leukemia were not yet obvious, and it was only discovered because I had a series of blood tests done because I had a bad infection in my right lung. For years I had a blood doctor who dealt with the leukemia and a lung doctor who tried to help improve my lung function. I was once trying to impress my attractive lady lung doctor with how much I knew about leukemia. I informed her that most people who have leukemia die of pneumonia. She politely informed me that most people in general at the very end of their life die because of an uncontrollable infection in their lungs. I never tried to impress her after that.
One sees many different life expectancy statistics thrown around concerning people who have chronic lymphocytic leukemia. A common number for life expectancy is 7 – 10 years from the date of diagnosis. Another is a median survival rate of 95 months. Based upon how my CLL has been progressing recently, both forecasts seem pretty accurate to me.
At the moment the lung infection has returned with a vengeance. Last night my body was making so much incredibly sticky phlegm that a few times during the night I honestly thought it might totally plug up my airways. Every 15 – 20 minutes all night long I had to get up and blow my nose and drink some water.
It would be unfortunate if this lung situation gets any worse, since I would then drown because of my lungs and breathing passages clogging up with this gunk. Last night's episode had a positive ending, but I don't doubt that one way or another the leukemia is going to get me in the not too distant future. I'm nearing the end of that journey. Maybe days, or months, maybe even a couple of years. It would be foolish denial to pretend otherwise.
My latest blood test shows that the white blood cells which fight off disease are very low; the platelets have now declined well below minimum recommended levels and so has the hemoglobin in my blood. Inadequate red blood cells and hemoglobin means that the blood is no longer able to do its job of properly oxygenating the body's tissues. In practice it means that I get out of breath real easy now. After walking just 100 or 200 feet (about 30 - 60 meters) the muscles in my legs begin to ache from a lack of sufficient oxygen. The heart is another useful muscle which demands a good supply of oxygen.
So far this journey has been very tolerable. In fact my little doggie and I both have adapted quite well to my newly limited strength and stamina. I am constantly aware of my nearby “hallway howitzer” but I haven't yet gotten at all close to thinking that I should actually exercise the euthanasia option. Thank goodness for my little dog Inu. He snuggles with me and comforts me all night long. In some ways there has now been a partial role reversal. I am still the pack leader; I bring home the bacon, and I hold the leash when we are out on a short walk here in the city. When we go out for a walk in the nearby desert he is constantly checking on me to make sure that I am doing OK. He understand that it has now become his job to protect me, and he takes his work very seriously. It is good to have a soft little furry black partner who gives you unconditional love and wants for you to get better more than anything in the whole wide world.
-
-
-
-
-
–
