Iron Woman

Today I received an iron infusion. An iron infusion is a highly concentrated bag of iron sucrose that goes into an IV in your arm. It is for people with severe anemia who are also iron deficient. I don't talk about it a lot. I have chronic anemia and have had it for several years. I have had some blood transfusions and three series of iron infusions. The last time was in May. Having iron deficient anemia causes the following symptoms. First, you have something called Pica. Pica is where you crave chalky or different types of things to eat. In my case, I will crunch on ice all day long. If I get a glass of ice water I will ignore the water and chomp on all the ice. I also crave peppermint lifesavers and those old fashioned peppermint puffs. Some people have pica so badly they want to eat chalk or dirt. Some people will eat cigarette butts or Rolaids by the handful. I crave sour patch kids as well. Another symptom of iron deficient anemia is weakness and fatigue. It starts out by just feeling more tired than normal. Like life is overwhelming. The idea of grocery shopping or clothes shopping or any kind of shopping is like the last thing on the earth you want to do. This is always a clue to me that my anemia is back because I love shopping. The fatigue continues to get worse until I am where I am at right now. A shell of my former self. A shut in. A person who cannot muster up energy to blow dry my hair or get the milk from the top shelf of the fridge. I sleep most of the day and night. I think I am up for about three or four hours per day in various intervals. My children are being raised and cared for by a babysitter that works in our home who I used to call her a "mommy helper" but now I call her our "house/life/sanity manager". She is wonderful and makes the shame I feel about my failings as a mother a little less painful. Mike does what he can which in this case translates to getting off work early and handling everything when he gets home from bed time, homework, dishes and mostly holding me while I cry and telling me I'm not a bad mother or wife. It must be very fun for him. What a party his life has turned into. If I do attempt to do anything like go someplace or make dinner I end up shaking like a leaf, dizzy and so emotional that I start crying until Mike gently takes over and sends me to my room where I curl into a ball and cry myself back to sleep. I try and bathe regularly but I don't have the energy to wash my hair. My bedroom is a disaster area of clothes, books, and clutter spread all over the place. The rest of the house looks fine because of our wonderful "house/life/sanity manager" jumps in and just does whatever needs to be done without me asking or giving her directions. It results in a different brand of cheese or bread but it also results in my family being fed. So who gives a crap about the brand of peanut butter?

I see an oncologist for this condition. He is awesome. We have the same birthday. The same year even. I love him. Today, he had me go to the cancer center and get a bag of iron put in my IV. The last time I had iron infusions, they were given in a 5 part series with each bag of iron being the size of a small kids juice box. This time I have having one infusion and it was the size of a gallon ziploc bag. Given my physical reaction to the little bags of iron in the past I am pretty scared about how this round will go.

If you need IV iron you go to the cancer center where people receive chemo and all sorts of cancer treatments administered by IV. Since most cancer patients are also anemic, it makes sense they send me there. You sit in a room that have light blue recliner type chairs. There were six chairs in the room I was in today. They were all filled. I don't know the stories of the other people that were there, but it was obvious that they were at different stages in their fight against cancer. It's a horrible place to be. My infusion takes three hours. Every time I go, I feel this immense guilt because they have cancer and the medication they are getting is going to make them feel worse. My medication is going to make me feel badly for a few days but then I'll be so great, full of energy and vigor. As this energy and life giving liquid drips into my veins I watch as poison drips into their veins. We all have the same hopeful look in our eyes. Because hope is universal. It is where we all go no matter how badly things seem. We can't help it. My heart breaks every time. I hate being there. Their strength of spirit is inspiring and the nurses are amazing and many of them will be cured. But I still feel this overwhelming need to run from the room. I can't help it. And I am ashamed because of how I feel.

For the first twelve hours I will feel actually a little bit better. My face will be rosy and I am so glad to be done with the infusion that I am giddy in some ways. I am happy always on the evening of my infusion. I chat away with the girls and Mike and make jokes and watch TV. Then, around midnight, I start to feel cramps in my stomach and the next three to four days are so bad that I won't write about them here. I don't want to remember them. They are dark and cold and painful. The details aren't important. Because of the amount given in today's infusion I am scared that my physical reaction will be worse. But how can it be worse than last time?, I think to myself. I guess we shall see.

I want to remember this process so that I don't take days that I feel good and strong and healthy for granted. I want to thank you for your prayers. I want you to know that someday, I will get this anemia under control so I get an infusion every once in awhile but not so willy-nilly. I, along with my doctor will manage it better so I don't have to ever get to the stage where I'd rather get a root canal with no Novocaine than blow dry my hair if it means I can just lay here and not move.

Your prayers would be cherished and so appreciated during this next few days. And if you could add in a prayer that this won't have long term effects on my sweet girls. They deserve the best Mom in the world. They deserve a Mom to go on bike rides with and who bakes cookies and who dances around the kitchen with them as we make a healthy and wonderful dinner together. They deserve more than what they have right now. I am so grateful for the stand in moms in their lives. My mom and dad, mike, our helper Jessica...I would be lost with out them.

What I am going through is so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. There are so many who have such larger challenges. For me, I am scared. I am so frightened that something could happen that would keep me from raising my babies. I am so scared that something will pop up that can't be fixed. I'm not done yet because I have so much more I want to see and do and give. So I talk to God and ask Him to please heal my body for Katie and Jessica. My sweetest, most wonderful Aunt Lori who I love like another mother sent me a scripture today that I printed out on a card and have on my nightstand so I can see it as soon as I open eyes. It says..."For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says, do not fear. I will help you." Isaiah 41:13 I know this is true. I feel the love of the Lord and prayers and angels all around me. It is humbling because I don't feel deserving of any of it. But I'll take it. Because I need it.

Tonight I am sick. Tonight I am grateful. Tonight I am loved. Tonight I am sad. Tonight I am happy. Tonight I miss my babies. Tonight I miss my husband. Tonight I miss having a home I am proud of. Tonight I am scared of what people are saying about me and because I know some of it is unkind it makes me embarrassed. Tonight I am giving all of these feelings over to the Lord so that I can rest. I can't carry it tonight. I need to let it go.

I am imagining a helium balloon in the color of pink and inside it has all of these feelings of fear and anger and frustration and sadness attached to the ribbon and it is going up, up, up and now I can't see it any more. To me, that means God has it. I think now I can go to sleep.

Thank you. You know who you are. Thank you so very very much. You mean more than you will ever know.