A lot of living...

I've been absent from blogging because I spent the last few months LIVING...the good, the bad - what a roller coaster. I've even considered giving up this blog, as a friend of mine said she thinks a part of me died when my cancer was removed. And I think it was the part I didn't need. Perhaps it's time to write a new chapter.

To sum up my activities over the summer:

Finished Chemo.
Fell in love.
Said subject of love fest fell ill with a recurrence of cancer.
Subject dumped me before he moved for a stem cell transplant.
Back to me again...kayaked with a group of cancer survivors for a week. Awesome!
Drove to Salt Lake City to see bro, sis and nephew.
Got a job - became a cubicle hopper again.
HAIR - growing like crazy!
I'm glad to be alive.

Tingling Toes, Mysterious Rashes, and Hot Flashes

I'm past treatment #6, with only two more to go! That means in less than three weeks, I'll be completely DONE with chemo. I'm SO happy, you can not imagine. Spring is finally here, and I'm feeling like I can get on with my life very soon.

New side effects I'm dealing with are neuropathy (fingers and feet), which SHOULD go away shortly after I'm done with treatment, but the doctor has me on three supplements which are supposed to help (I'm not sure if they are helping), so I'm starting up acupuncture again. In the last week, I've also gotten a couple of rashes on my body which I thought might have been attributed to hanging out with horses last weekend, but I'm starting to think it's related to Taxol. And the worst, hot flashes. I'm hot, cold, night sweats and I really hope these will go away after treatment. Unfortunately, no one can guarantee that my menstrual cycles will come back after chemo, so there is a chance this will push me into menopause - And then I wonder WHY did I do this? Even with all these side effects, and the low energy from cumulative chemo, I feel better than on the old drug (AC).

And everyone is having their own troubles. People and pets are being diagnosed with cancer all the time. Life simply goes on, with its losses and triumphs. For now, it's spring and my toes are painted ready to show the world. Oh, my Dad shows up today for a visit. I'm very excited!

Finally Lost a Load & Life with the Beautiful People

Yesterday was a milestone for me. I puked! It was the first time through all this chemo, and I haven't even been feeling nauseas on this new drug! It really snuck up on me. I attribute it to the pain meds I was taking for leg pain. BUT, by evening, I was wolfing down succulant ribs at a party hosted by "the beautiful people".

By Beautiful people (and I need to say this with a special drawn-out accent - "beaauuut-i-ful"), I mean a party at my plastic surgeon's home. It was a very nice party at which I couldn't help but stare at the guests' faces and breasts to see if they, too, were patients of the doctor. Bad me. It's a new world being surrounded by people who have the desire to fix their faces and bodies - a club, of sorts. I have to admit, it was nice to be part of the club, even if I didn't electively join. However, I wasn't about to show my cellulite and jump into the hot tub! Lately, I've become more obsessed with researching options for breast alteration so MAYBE I'll have the option of being symmetrical, and never wearing a bra again! I might as well get perky breasts out of the deal, right? Having a "bra burning" party sounds really cathartic at the moment.

My friend with lymphoma was released from the hospital. A number of tests were run on her, but it sounds like they were inconclusive. I'm afraid she is still in for a long, rough fight....hmmm....we are in SUCH different situations. I'm partying with the beaaauuuutiful people, and she's fighting for her life. I can only say that my willingness to grab for any bits of happiness is very high right now, and I need some fun in my life after a long winter.

Growing Pains

So, I'm beyond treatment #5. Whooo hooo! That means only three more to go, and dare I say it...dare I say...I see some hair starting to grow! The drug I'm on for the second half of the protocol is not as toxic, therefore, I'm not having any nausea. I am, however, having massive leg pains. Today, the nurses told me that I had permission to come home and take some heavy pain killers. I'm doing just that, since I was tossing and turning most of the night with these leg pains. Ironically, they feel just like the growing pains I had when I was a kid.

When approaching my decision to undergo chemo, I decided to look at this as a "re-boot" of my body. So it's fitting that Spring is starting to show up, sprouts are starting to grow on my head, and I'm having the growing pains I had when I was a kid.

On a more serious note, I've met some other chemo patients who have left me feeling conflicted. One imparticular has left me gnawing at my deepest fears, avoidance, boundary issues, questions of life and health - and questioning how much one should give of themselves? Is it healthy to be so "together" all the time? This woman has lymphoma, and two other major diseases. She is constantly needing IV hydration, and for some reason she is drawn to me. Part of me wants to run away screaming because I "only" have breast cancer (what a joke), and I don't feel nearly as bad as she does. But the reality is that she has chosen to befriend me at the most vulnerable time in her life. I only met her two weeks ago, and although she had already finished her chemo, I could tell she was facing many more challenges than I am. Now, she is in the hospital with a pulminary embolism. What is it that made me want to run away, to not want to be part of that "category"...well, it's the same thing that makes others not want to be around me. They're perception of what I'm going through or how it could affect them is too scary. It's too foreign to their own world. Unfortunately, I don't feel strong enough to give as much as perhaps I should, but that's where I am. And I sense that this woman is used to giving too much of herself, and not taking care of herself FIRST.

So, I'll just sit with this for a while, along with the drugs. How much should we give of ourselves? How close should we get to strangers, when they invite us into their cacoon of struggle?

How to "Flip that Switch"

I’m past my 3rd chemo treatment and almost to the half-way point of the whole protocol. Yeah! My friends and I had a head-shaving party, in which a total of six people shaved their heads. What support! A couple weeks ago I went into my doctor’s office and told him I was “really pissed off” at the way some people looked at and/or treated me. I told him, “I don’t want people looking at me like I’m going to die!” And, it’s become clear that I have lost some income from at least one client because of their PERCEPTION of what cancer and what its treatment involves. I want to shake them all and say, I’M STILL HERE!

My doctor said this was a healthy response, so I’m going with it.

However, at the same time, my chemo buddy admitted to me the other day that she doesn’t know how to stop thinking of her mortality…how to start thinking that she will be a survivor, even though the statistics are in her favor. She’s having a hard time flipping that switch in her brain, and it was hard for me to come up with the words to help her. Statistics are statistics, but she has a family to think about. What can one say to ease this uncertainty? We’re all going to die? Ouch. You’ll be a better mother? Ouch. I remember one nurse saying to me “This is a gift you’ve been given. Cancer is a GIFT”. I took it ok, but someone has to be in the right frame of mind to look at it that way.

So I guess what I’ve learned is you can’t judge someone until you’ve walked in their shoes, and if you don’t know what to say, just say that. Don’t make assumptions about how someone is feeling.

Since my last posting, I’ve won a free night stay at a local historical hotel by guessing what the DOW would end at in 2008, and I’ve also won at the slot machines with friends this last weekend. I may be going through chemo, but I still think I’m a lucky charm :)

Maybe I’m warped.

“I feel drunk.” “That’s not a bad thing,” she said.

I finally had my first treatment on Tuesday, even though my white blood cell count was even lower than before! It wasn’t all that bad, but the most disconcerting moment was when I stood up to go to the bathroom – the medicine bag was empty and blood from my port starting backing up into the line. So there I stood with a couple feet of blood-red tubing hanging out of me. “Um, I think I have a problem here,” I said to the nurse. Yuck!

I went to the bathroom and had a hot flash. I’ve heard chemo causes hot flashes, but I think this was the result of seeing so much of my body fluid so far outside of my body – too soon for the real hot flashes to begin!

That evening was hell. Two days later, my white blood cell count was UP! Hmmm, either my body really really likes chemo :), or Tibetan medicine has been helping me. I feel like the last three days has been a blur; I’ve been a walking drunk with a lot of hiccups, usually looking quite well, but always wondering what exactly I did the day before. One night I thought I would make twice-baked potatoes, only to find I was boiling them. The thought of having permanent brain damage has terrified me.

Today, I’m off all my anti-nausea meds, and feeling more like myself than before. Yesterday, I went to a movie with my chemo buddy (yes, I really remember). We talked about wigs, and whether or not we want them. Amazingly, my insurance company won’t pay for a wig. Even though the policy covers prosthesis, they say hair is not a “body part”. There is a lot of help for women with cancer, moms with cancer, low-income women with cancer, and yet I’m still afraid of being discriminated against, which is why I don’t update my Facebook page, or answer e-mails from long lost colleagues. That is a hurdle I have yet to overcome – the long term financial implications of being “marked”.

To Chemo, or Not to Chemo

This has been the big dilemma in my mind over the last few weeks. I lean towards natural and alternative therapies, but I’ve learned through past experiences that healing comes in all forms, including the knife. Maybe even chemo?

At the oncologist’s office, I was under intense pressure to start chemo right away. They had not heard me when I said via phone (twice) and via e-mail, that I was NOT ready to start. No, they wouldn’t hear it at all - not until I was sitting in their office with nurses approaching me with their needles, ready to draw blood. Then, I asked quite firmly, “Are you sure you want to draw blood today, because I’m still not ready to start chemo.” The room fell silent, including my doctor, who was speaking with a patient next to me. You could have heard a pin drop. Yes, they finally heard me and acknowledged that it needed to be my choice to allow them to pump those drugs into me. That appointment was an eye-opener for me, and I think also for the doc.

A couple days later, I had a dream that I was being treated. I was “plugged in”, and I was fine. I wasn’t having any side effects. I felt quite safe. Then, two women (a friend of mine, and another acquaintance) approached me to tell me they were just diagnosed with breast cancer, and they were quite panicked. Unfortunately, their situations were much worse than mine. I was doing ok. Remember, this was all a dream.

A couple days after that dream, I received a call from a friend. His daughter was just diagnosed with breast cancer this week and she wanted to talk to me. As it turns out, her cancer is more aggressive than mine.

We talked, and our conversation helped to shift my thinking. I decided to do chemo locally, and ironically, this woman found out she needed chemo right away. We were to start on the same week. We had our ports installed on the same DAY! She got going, and just hoped that it would “work”.

I, on the other hand, decided to have a problem with my original surgical incision, which delayed starting chemo by two days. On the next try, my body decided that I was too tired and needed to make more white blood cells. So twice now, I have TRIED to start chemo, only to be delayed again. Oh…what is the universe telling me?

I am scheduled to see the Tibetan doctor on Sunday.