Last night I slept with the windows open. And the air coming in, the cool breeze, the fresh clear morning, reminded me that the season is about to change. I love this time of year. I love how fall sneaks in quietly to overtake the last hot humid days of summer. I love how the cooler days feel like treasure waiting to be discovered. It’s still warm — tee shirt weather warm — much of the day, but the nights and early mornings are cool enough to throw on a light sweater.
A week ago I had an MRI which confirmed a diagnosis of adhesive capsulitis in my left shoulder. In layman’s terms, I have a frozen shoulder. A couple days after the MRI, I had a cortisone shot and now, finally, I am starting to feel some incremental relief. I’m no longer in constant pain, and while my range of motion is still severely limited, the no-longer-in-constant-pain part is really key. In a week I can go back to PT and moderate exercise. I’m beyond ready to put this chapter behind me.
I get frustrated with the level of vigilance, the amount of follow-up and ongoing care, my doctors require. My oncologist has been bugging me to get back on track with regular visits to my primary care doctor. I kind of let that slide last year since I was, well, you know, dealing with the cancer and all that. So last week, I went in for my annual physical. The good news is, I’ve lost ten pounds. But the bad news is I’m about an inch and a half shorter than I was before starting the lupron shots and the aromasin. At my age, that’s not really normal or expected, so even though it’s only been about 16 months since my first bone density test (which was normal), I need to have another one. Oh and my A1C number is a little high despite the fact that my fasting glucose level is well within the normal range. I’m not sure which of these two things bugs me more. I wonder what would happen if I just stopped getting tested for things?
I already know I’m going in the right direction. Most of my health news is good, and the not-so-good things are fixable. Except, of course, the shrinking. Pretty sure I can’t un-shrink. When I consider where I am, where I’ve been and how far I have come, I know I’m in a good place. I have a lot of people in my corner, and I have so very much to be thankful for. Somehow that makes the annoying and the crazy and the frustrating a little easier to take.