Letter From The Front-The War On Lymphedema

A side light in the cancer fight is the battle against lymphedema, one of the unintended consequences of the disease.  I stepped up my visits to the gym.  I think I need to in preparation for the surgery.  I am also trying to make sure I walk every day at least two miles.  I understand I am going to lose a lot of muscle and keep a lot of fat.  I’m ok with that, I guess, but I think I need to have a lot of muscle to lose or else I am going to have trouble recovering.  So making muscle in short order allows me to take advantage of my gym membership and being part of the gym family.  I only know one of them by first name and the other through one of my children but they all smile and I guess I am not that personable anyway and after all we ain’t there to be social.  Now all this therapy, walking and gym activity seems to have created overactive lymph. 

Now there is nothing good about lymphedema.  You get it in the leg your little bird leg turns into an elephant leg.  You got to lug around an elephant leg and that ain’t no fun.  On top of that you got to lug around your elephant leg with some kind of gear on it so it doesn’t turn into a completely different kind of animal, a blob leg and who knows where it would go from there. 

And then there’s the whole business of it being in your business.  The lymph travelling over there can turn your jim beam into a jim keg.  That ain’t comfortable because you got to dig to do your main business, like draining the main vein, if you know what I mean.  There is this feeling under the skin with lymph on the move.  Heat and tingling, a tightness, a fatigue.  Inger’s therapy and my level of activity undoubtedly contribute.  My leg stays down but I swear the lymph shows up in my face, hands, arms, lips, you name it.  Probably even my hair follicles from the feel of it.   It is likely after the surgery the battle will become tougher but as with all things I can adjust. 

Battling the compression stockings is mostly limited to keeping them from rolling up on my foot.  Sometimes with a lot of walking my leg goes down so much the stocking will fall to my knee on the left and ankle on the right.  Adjustment requires drop drawers, which I am reluctant to do in public, even with the bicycle shorts or under armour on underneath.  So now I am battling against not just the lower half blowing out, but pockets and flow to the rest of me where I do not want it.  I cannot imagine life without Vanessa and Inger in this battle.  Their discipline and loving care keep this stuff manageable so far.