The Big C
A true story of cancer, living, loving and deciding
not to take drugs that could prolong my life.
By Marti Talbott © 2022
Marti's Bestselling Novel: Seattle Quake 9.2
They knew it could happen, they just didn't think it would happen to them! Earthquake Kit instructions.
Amazon, Apple, Nook, Kobo & Google Play
The big C –
Could, would, should, might, maybe … It's a long list of half-promises that really don’t mean anything. Cancer drugs work for some and not for everyone. Still, why not do everything possible to survive? Well, I’ve been a Christian all my life and saved for most of it, I’m seventy-six and already in stage four. Most of all, I’m not afraid to die, I’m afraid of suffering. A nurse in the hospital asked what it was. Something definitely was different about me than others facing my kind of cancer. I answered that it was peace. Loving God and knowing he loves me, gives me peace.
“Peace,” she muttered as she left the room.
That truly is what it is – there is peace in the love of Jesus Christ.
Because I was born nearly blind in one eye, I moved to Seattle where the transportation system would keep me from having to drive a car. I retired at 62, discovered that my social security wasn’t going to keep me out of the free food banks for long, and after reading a book, I thought, “Hey. I can do that.” it’s harder than I thought. Even so, Seattle Quake 9.2 was my first completed novel and has been my bestselling since.
It was in Seattle that my medical saga began. I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, and put on a regiment of medications that promised to prolong my life. It including baby Aspirin, a pill for water retention, one for cholesterol, and carvedilol 15 mg for high blood pressure. It is to Carvedilol that I bring your attention. More on this later.
After the heart diagnosis, I decided to go back to Colorado, the state of my birth where I still have family, so we packed up and off we went. My eldest daughter agreed to go with me and be my healthcare provider. Not long after we moved, I developed a lump in my neck. They did a biopsy and it turned out to be a Warthin tumor (named after the doctor that found it) that was nonmalignant. The MRI also showed a small mass on my thyroid, but since the lump in my neck was not cancer and the thyroid function was normal, I didn’t peruse more tests.
Then, in June, 2020, my guts rebelled. I started throwing up blood, rushed to the hospital in Fruita, CO and then transferred to St. Mary’s hospital in Grand Junction, CO. An MRI showed a bleeding ulcer and diverticulitis.
We got that all fixed and by the middle of September, I was good to go again – No sign of cancer. However, because I am allergic to penicillin and because I developed an infection, I was in rehab for a month, which is where they found the carvedilol 15 mg problem. The pill for 15 mg was dropping my blood pressure too low. Therefore, the dose was reduced to 3.125, the lowest dose there is.
In December, 2021 I developed a major Kidney infection for which I was treated in the emergency room of Community Hospital in Grand Junction and sent home. By the time I finished taking the infection medication, I was cured. No sign of cancer. Yet, just three months later, I was back in the hospital with a second kidney infection.
Like I said, before surgery, I was on carvedilol 12.5 mg. When I got out of the hospital in 2020 (Fruita Rehab), someone had lowered it to 3.125 mg.
During my next visit with my Cardio doctor, I mentioned the dose had been changed and that the only difference I could tell was an increase in congestion. I asked him if he’d received my records and he said yes. Apparently, he hadn't. To combat the congestion, he doubled the initial prescription of 12.5 to 25mg twice a day. I'd been taking the higher dose for six months when next I went to see him, I mentioned I was having multiple migraines. He suggested I keep track of my blood pressure, so I did. That’s when I discovered the Carvedilol was dropping my blood pressure down as low as 90/60. I mentioned all this to my primary physician and she changed it back to 3.125 mg.
(Break time)
Where was I? Oh, I remember now.
Kidney infection number 3 turned up in late March, 2022. I was admitted into Community hospital for a second time and in far more serious pain. The next Doctor ran an MRI and said I had a mass on my liver, on my lungs, and on my kidney. He recommended a biopsy of the mass on my liver. This I did not understand. Yes, it is easier to biopsy the liver, but how was that supposed to stop the pain in my kidney? Made no sense to me.
Here, I have to say that if you can get one, find a doctor that can help with more than one issue at a time. The doctor train runs in all directions, beginning with the nurse practitioner you’re seeing instead of a doctor. Don’t get me wrong, some nurse practitioners will take very good care of you, but all they really do, is prescribe a lower dose of pain meds that what you need, and get you on the doctor train so the real doctors can run tests. When you’re in that kind of pain, you don’t have time to let them run all their stupid tests.
With the results of the MRI in hand, I was home again, this time with a controlled substance strong enough to help with pain. Of course, I’m too sick to pick it up, and the druggist won’t deliver it. That’s okay, the pain isn’t that bad. Tylenol is working well enough.
So this is where everything in my life went south. My daughter, who pledged to be my healthcare provider, left in the middle of the night. The next day, she sent me a text saying she wasn’t coming back. (This kind of thing happens to the elderly more often than we know.) If you know me, you can actually picture me walking around this empty three-bedroom house singing, “You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille.”
Before you get upset about the wayward daughter, know that she is in God’s hands and her leaving actually did me a huge favor. Possibly, it might have done us both a favor. Time will tell.
Tylenol only helped for a day or two. I finally gave up, called 911 and hooked a ride to the hospital nearest me in Fruita. What a great hospital!. Before I even left the emergency room, a lady doctor came to tell me the news. They ran a second MRI, and yes, it was cancer and it had spread in just the time between the first and second MRI. I estimate that to have been between one to three weeks. My cancer was already in stage four. Okay, so they don’t want to upset us with a cancer diagnosis, but why do they let people suffer? Why, when the drugs are available? In a matter of a few short hours, Hospice arrived to take over my care. It included having just one doctor in charge of everything, a nurse, schedule kind people to help with housekeeping, and to assure me of progressive pain relief until the God choose to take me home.
By the time I left that hospital, I was on enough merciful pain meds to be able to think straight. The hard part for me was telling my family. No tear, just cheers for a long and happy life. Easier said than done.
Funny, my nurse came after I got home and wanted to help with the nausea problem. She introduced me to a bottle of medicine that was normally used to help those who are hallucinating. Should I have told her about all the angels I’ve seen lately? No, I don’t think I will. I prefer to think of them as angels. Too bad the medicine stopped that, but it was good it helped with the nausea. More good news! I’m never going to have to go on a diet again!
(break time)
04/02/2022
A few minutes ago, my nurse brought in the big guns, which includes meds and a phone number to call if I have questions. That wasn’t the wisest thing they’ve offered so far. Boy, do I have questions! Thing is, with short term memory loss, I’m not retaining the answers to any of my questions.
They said to put the pain patch on my stomach where there is fat. Being overweight most of my life, I roared with laughter over that one for nearly an hour!
This is probably a good place to ask the question – did the wrong choices I made in my life mean I deserve this?
Well, yes and no. It depends on who you talk too. I started smoking at age 16 and quit just last week. (Yes +1) I lived in an apartment with asbestos in the walls for 20 years and didn’t know it. (No+1). In Seattle the only way to get to work, was to walk through the fallout from Chernobyl. (No+12 For eight years I worked in a metal finishing plant around chemicals such as Chromium, Ti-cad, Cadmium, gold, silver, etc., etc., etc. (Yes+1 because I knew the risks, and No+1 because I needed a job. It was a good job where I made lifelong friends.)
Answer – I’ll leave that up to you and God.
I was thinking about what I'm leaving behind for my writer friends and associates. I have tons of research material, not well organized, so it will take me a while to set it up. A list of plots, how to invent new names, etc. I’ll try to dump all that in an email file available free on request. Contact Marti. Just give me some time to get organized.
Back to the Big C.
Like I said, Hospice showed up soon after my diagnosis, to guide me through the help they will be giving me along the way. Since most of the pain is in my back, they are giving me a hospital bed so I can sit and type, lay down and rest, without getting up. They will feed me, help me bathe, and run a load of laundry now and again, so there is no need to worry about me. My God has always taken good care of me, even in the bad times.
Want to share your story? Send me a message martitalbott @ Yahoo.com
It's been a whirlwind of activity and it's only been a week. I’ll be updating this at least once a day with things I forgot to mention. Becoming a burden on my extended family is what hurts the most, but Hospice will be lifting some of the responsibilities off my brother’s shoulder. I am overwhelmed by all the good God is sending my way.
Yes, I would love hearing your story. You can post it on my Facebook page or send it to my website contact Marti. And while I’m thinking about it
(Time for a rest, but I’ll be back.) 4/5/22
Back to the Big C.
Like I said, Hospice showed up soon after my diagnosis to guide me through the help they will be giving me along the way. Since most of the pain is in my back, they are giving me a hospital bed so I can sit and type, lay down and rest, without getting up. They will feed me, help me bathe, and run a load of laundry now and again, so there is no need to worry about me. (Not sure about all this, so don’t quote me) My God has always taken good care of me, even in the bad times.
Want to share your story? If I can, I’ll post it on my website. Email martitalbott @ Yahoo.com
(Time for a rest, but I’ll be back)
I heard a rumor that the best way to meet a handsome fireman was to call 911. It worked, I fell. It was my fault. I forgot I’m not steady on my feet these days and lost my balance. Don’t worry, except for a few bruises, I’m perfectly fine. All I needed was help getting up off the floor. They made sure I didn’t have a stroke and went on their way, to thrill the other elderly ladies in my senior resident community.
My daughter, (no, not that one, the other one), wants to come see me for a couple of days. A couple of days should be just about right as I get tired easily. However, after spending the morning trying to book a flight for her on Delta’s new and improved easy to use website, I gave up and let her do her magic. I couldn’t even find a real person to talk to. I guess we are stuck with virtual people for a while longer, although I couldn’t even find one of those.
Speaking of my eldest daughter, the one that took off without saying goodbye? She left me with a great deal of legal documents that needed to be changed. First, the life insurance has to go to my brother who lives here and can pay for the funeral, and then send the balance to her sister, if there is any. It’s only $10k.
Next, I had to cut daughter number one out of my Will, which means the rights to all my books will go to her sister. I’m sad about that as it leaves her children and grandchildren out of the inheritance they otherwise would deserve. On the other hand, they too have completely blocked any communication with me, changing phone numbers and email addresses. If I stay mentally alert long enough, all that can be fixed.
What did I do to her that was so awful? All I’ve heard so far is that I was mean to her. Mean how? I may never know. I may never want to know. I supported her for nearly 9 years, in exchange for her being with me when I got too old to take care of myself. What I think happened is that she got herself in so deep financially, she chose to run away from her troubles instead. For me, that reason less painful. Since she owns the car, it was probably about to be repossessed, and I would have been without transportation anyway.
What will happen to my books? It’s complicated. I have around 62 titles in my copy-righted pocket and someone has to be responsible for renewing the copyrights 70 years after my death, and every 70 years after. Otherwise, my books go into public domain and my heirs lose all rights to them. Even if later you had DNA proof you had the rights to his or her famous books, it’s too late to claim the income.
And then there are the little things about the Bib C that suddenly becomes insurmountable big things – Nausea! No, it’s not an another ulcer, its rebellion between the pain meds and the stomach. There’s that oxygen going up your nose and drying out your brains, then when you try to clear that dry stuff out, you bleed. Don’t worry, there’s a lotion for that and thank God, my nurse came prepared to hand it to me. Doctors said I could eat anything I want, unless your stomach disagrees. There’s more, but I don’t want to gross you out and remember – I am choosing not to submit to Chemo or any of the other “maybe, could, might” drugs out there on the market.
My body. My decisions. My choice – I’ve never felt freer from societies rules in my life than I do now. If only my stomach would agree.
I often think of my sister-in-law, Jackie Talbott, and how she was never pain-free after something fell on her and injured her back. There’s no way to understand. Someone else’s pain, except to sympathize, but if hers was as bad as mine, I might have encouraged full out alcoholism with no excuses. Again, I am proof that the pain relief drugs are out there, so why weren’t doctors helping her? Why?
It’s because we who follow the rules religiously might become hooked on the stupid stuff. What? An addiction is worse than being in constant pain for the rest of her life? At this point, who cares? I don’t understand such cruelty. We didn’t know – at least I didn’t.
And it’s not even that – it’s the old “follow the money”. Doctors are more afraid of getting arrested and sued than they care about the comfort of their patients. That really makes me mad!
We need to fire the doctors and keep firing them until the one you love is pain free. I know, it’s against the law, unless you’re homeless and mentally ill. Then They’ll put you in a free apartment, buy your syringes and pay for your drugs, ignoring your pain completely. It must be mental illness – it just must! Okay, so some of it is.
I’m eating peaches and whipped cream. Hope I can keep it down. So far, so good. Lost ten pounds and gained it back between December and March. Pass the jelly beans, please.
NOTE: There were be times when I don't post anything. Don't panic, I'm just taking a rest.
I thought talking to all of you would help “you” get through this, but now I see it’s helping me more. Everyone needs a friend to talk to, especially in the middle of the night, and God sent me all of you! Over the last ten years I have acquired friends all over the world – The UK, Canada, Ireland, India, Australia, Russia, Ukraine, Japan, Mexico and most surprising, Nigeria! My book(s) have been read on the space shuttle, (it actually said space shuttle) and somewhere there’s a ship on the ocean that gets close enough to shore to buy a book or two. At least that’s what I think that “no signature” dot in the ocean on the Google map is. If it isn’t, I can always dream something up about it. We authors are good at that. I’m leaving someone out, I know, but I can’t think who just now.
4/9/22
I’m learning that when I find something that my stomach will tolerate, eating too much of it turns my stomach against it. Balance seemed to be even more important now. Last night, I ate some fresh raspberries. They were so good, but I stopped after just a few. Then, when I woke up, I ate a few more and my stomach didn’t rebel. In fact, I went right back to sleep. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. Did that a second time with the same results. I do seem to crave fresh fruit, such as strawberries and raspberries. Naturally, those are the most expensive on the market. That’s okay, I deserve to spend money on myself just not, or so I think. Good thing I’ve never been a big steak lover in today’s world. In fact, meat is desired but not tolerated at all right now.
*
I suppose in the long run, we killed ourselves. After all this time we still don’t know for certain what causes cancer. Our personal guess is as good as anything the professionals have come up with. Why do some get it and some do not?
The most beautiful brand new hospital bed was delivered this afternoon. A very nice man took the time to explain everything as he put it together. I didn’t get his last name or his company, but I’m sure there aren’t too many guys with the first name “Alike” in our beloved Mesa Valley, Colorado.”
More later, it’s still early here.
I’d like to take a moment to talk about the importance of grieving. My grandmother wouldn’t let herself cry when grandpa died. Then one day, about ten years later on Memorial Day, she fell completely apart. We were going to Delta to lay flowers on his grave, she had a stroke, started to cry and couldn’t stop,
There are stages of grief, shock, disbelief, that hole in your heart feeling, and learning to cope with the massive changes in your life. Somewhere in there comes anger. Men tend to put a hole in the wall and women throw dishes. It’s okay, you can fix the hole in the wall and dishes are really cheap these days. Don’t chastise your loved one for doing whatever they need to do to release the grief, in fact if you encourage her by handing her another dish to break, she'll come out of that fog, her shoulders will slump and she’ll fall into the arms that long to hold her. If he puts a hole in the wall, I suggest you just stay out of the way.
So, take the time to grieve, my beloved friends. Being brave is just postponing the pain for you and for your family. That kind of prolonged pain is too hard on your physical heart.
I thought talking to all of you would help “you” get through this, but now I see it’s helping me more. Everyone needs a friend to talk to, especially in the middle of the night, and God sent me all of you! Over the last ten years I have acquired friends all over the world – The UK, Canada, Ireland, India, Australia, Russia, Ukraine, Japan, Mexico and most surprising, Nigeria! My book(s) have been read on the space shuttle, (it actually said space shuttle) and somewhere there’s a ship on the ocean that gets close enough to shore to buy a book or two. At least that’s what I think that “no signature” dot in the ocean on the Google map is. If it isn’t, I can always dream something up about it. We authors are good about that. I’m leaving someone out, I know, but I can’t think who just now.
My nurse says when you're hungry, eat and when you're sleepy sleep. I sure am loving that sleep part.
4/9/22
I’m learning that when I find something that my stomach will tolerate, eating too much of it turns my stomach against it. Balance seems to be even more important now. Last night, I ate some fresh raspberries. They were so good, but I stopped after just a few. Then, when I woke up, I ate a few more and my stomach didn’t rebel. In fact, I went right back to sleep. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. Did that a second time with the same results. I do seem to crave fresh fruit, such as strawberries and raspberries. Naturally, those are the most expensive on the market. That’s okay, I deserve to spend money on myself just now, or so I think. Good thing I’ve never been a big steak lover in today’s world. In fact, meat is desired but not tolerated at all right now.
I suppose in the long run, we killed ourselves. After all this time we still don’t know for certain what causes cancer. Our personal guess is as good as anything the professionals have come up with. Why do some get it and some do not?
The most beautiful brand new hospital bed was delivered this afternoon. A very nice man took the time to explain everything as he put it together. I didn’t get his last name or his company, but I’m sure there aren’t too many guys with the first name “Alike” in our beloved Mesa Valley, Colorado.”
Global warming? My opinion is – to believe in global warming, we have to believe God is no longer in control. Next time someone gives you that old song and dance, ask them what happened to the next ice age we were supposedly in back in the 70’s, or if the sea is rising, why are the rich still buying beach front property?
More later - it’s still early here.
I’d like to take a moment to talk about the importance of grieving. My grandmother wouldn’t let herself cry when grandpa died. Then one day, about ten years later on Memorial Day, she fell completely apart. We were going to Delta to lay flowers on his grave, she had a stroke, started to cry and couldn’t stop,
There are stages of grief, shock, disbelief, that hole in your heart feeling, and learning to cope with the massive change in your life. Somewhere in there comes anger. Men tend to put a hole in the wall and women throw dishes. It’s okay, you can fix the hole in the wall and dishes are really cheap these days. Don’t chastise your loved one for doing whatever they need to release the grief, in fact if you encourage her by handing her another dish to break, she’ll come out of that fog, her shoulders will slump and she’ll fall into the arms that long to hold her.
So, take the time to grieve, my beloved friends. Being brave is just postponing the pain for you and for your family. That kind of prolonged pain is too hard on your physical heart.
Ah, the good days vs the bad days. It’s still a struggle to bring the good days in line with the bad days. I tend to believe it has more to do with equalizing the pain meds with the nausea meds. Yesterday, the nausea med was exceptional, last night after I took them, I couldn’t settle down to sleep, heard every noise and spent hours wondering ”what was that?” Took a nap and now I’m leveling off a little.
How good is my diet, you’re wondering? Since I’m not planning to hang on, I’m not worried about that these days. If you plan to do Chemo, it is probably very important! Well what do you know? Word can correct Kemo to Chemo without me having to look it up. Brilliant!
4/10/22
Now I’m all messed up!
Can I get two volunteers to help clean my house before the housekeeper comes? I guess not. At any rate, it is time to face the fact that my deep cleaning days are over.
I believe I am the first to die in our little immediate family, which explains why they are taking it so hard. My ex, whom I divorced in 1971, died about six or seven years ago. He was five years older than me. One thing is for sure, three is not a good number when it comes to families. I was a single mom, the sole supporter and hardest of all, the peace keeper. How we can have two children that are complete opposites, is beyond me. Most of us are quick to anger, which is never a good thing. You don’t think I’m quick to anger? Well, I was once until I figured out I was getting nowhere that way. Then trying to control my own anger and teaching them how to control theirs, was a life-long occupation. I’m still not sure there is a cure. I don’t mean to repeat, but it was forgiveness that saved me. I hope it will save all of you too.
I have some local friends who wanted in on the “act” - pretending to be the author’s best friend, weeping and carrying on. Anyway they wanted me to call, to come over, etc., etc., and I finally had to shut them down. I could be wrong about them. The only time I heard from them when I was in Seattle, was when someone died.
Anyway I had to shut them down. Then, when I asked for help with a couple of household chores, knowing they’re right here in town, crickets. That’s what I thought. I could be wrong, hope I am. I’ve heard of this happening to other authors, the rats scramble away when times get rough. I’ll wait a week or so to see if they decide to share their time and talents.
I remember the case of Anne Rule…the famous true crime author. Look it up, it's a fascinating story of what can happen to authors.
GOLD DIGGER
Reporter Beth Ryquist was about to lose her job, and the only way to save it was to write the story of a lifetime. For years she’d been obsessed with the murder of Senator Forester, and the kidnapping and survival of his young daughter, Jillian. Beth was convinced the Senator’s gold digger wife was guilty of murder-for-hire. She had to be! There were holes in the wife’s story – big holes, and Beth believed the one person who knew the truth was Jillian. Yet, Beth had no idea how to find Jillian - not until a handwritten note finally gave her the lead she'd been hoping for. Edited by Katie Lee Andersen
Bestselling novel: Seattle Quake 9.2 - Jackie Harlan Mysteries
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The Klondike Gold Rush was over but men kept coming, rich men looking for investments in America’s west coast boom towns. Some men were easy targets. Some were a little more suspicious, but even a suspicious man can fall in love, especially with a beautiful young woman who knows just how to hook him. A stand-alone book. Edited by Katie Lee Andersen Amazon Apple, Kobo Google Play Nook
My grandfather, Lloyd McClurg was a member of his Scottish Clan in Iowa...until he got kicked out for marrying my grandmother against his father's wishes. I remember him as a gentle giant, filled with love and warmth, yet strength and wisdom. The Marblestone Mansion Series contains details they wrote in their memory book.