Depression

Along with the guilt that I talked about before, another lovely thing that comes along with cancer is depression. I've always struggled a little bit with depression and anxiety to some degree. Normally, I can snap myself out of it pretty easily.

I have been officially cancer free since September 19th. I'm so stoked about this - obviously. I know I should be jumping for joy and loving life at this point. I mean, I kicked cancers ass and get to keep living. But it is not that simple.

I have never really cared about looks. Make-up, nice clothes, fancy hair-dos or being thin, have never been for me. I have always been the girl with the bun on top of her head and wearing the jeans and t-shirt that is probably stained. Because of this I am surprised I am struggling with mirrors now.

The top of my head was getting ridiculously thin after a week long stay in the hospital so I let my sister buzz it for me:

Right after it was buzzed

I, surprisingly, loved it buzzed like that... at least for a few days before my face exploded from my crazy high dosage of Prednisone. 

After my last chemo.
Moonfaced to the extreme
and maybe 5 eyebrow hairs.

After the hospital stay and the hair buzzing, I was also struggling with having no eyebrows. People look so weird with no eyebrows. I tried fixing them the best I could before saying "screw it" and went with the alien look. At this point the prednisone was making me put on weight - A LOT of weight. I had lost quiet a bit of weight while I was going through the diagnosis process, so the fact that I was creeping up to how much I weighed right before giving birth was hard to swallow. When I passed that number I was heartbroken. I know the prednisone literally saved my life, but I also feel like between that and cancer it also took it away.

I do not see myself in the mirror anymore. I do not see the "brave," "courageous," and "beautiful" woman that people label me and other cancer survivors as. I see the chipmunk cheeks that are going down [too] slowly, I see the "beer gut" and "camels hump" that seem to be here to stay no matter how much of the Insanity workout I put myself through and how miles I walk or run.

I don't believe the feeling of depression is solely based the stranger in the mirror.

When I was first diagnosed I did not allow myself to react. I didn't cry or get sad or upset. I just went straight in to "ok, what now" mode. I may have had only one break down, but it was over in 2 minutes and I was back to being "brave." I think now that I am done with treatment and just have to worry about scans, all of the anxiety, fear, frustration, and sadness are snowballed and hitting me all at once. I have found myself totally unable to sleep at any sort of normal hours - no matter how early the kiddo wakes me. Can't I just stay in bed all day? I find myself being really mean and snippy with Craig for no reason what so ever. I used to have a long fuse, but now, it is as though anything could make me mad, but don't worry I am nice again in 5 minutes.

So, I have my work cut out for me - I get to rediscover myself. I will never been pre-cancer Lindsay again. How scary!

Fevers, Hospitals and Low Counts

I have quite the eventful 2 weeks. I'm starting to actually feel like a cancer patient, or at least how I had imagined a cancer patient would feel.

After my chemo on July 11th I got a fever. We were able to get it under control with tylenol. It got up to about 102.

Then again after chemo on July 25th, I got another fever. It started as soon as I got home from chemo. This one was accompanied by chills and shivers that I couldn't control. Craig ended up calling my doctor who told us to just take tylenol and keep an eye on my temperature. It spiked to 104 when Craig called again and we were sent to the ER.

When we got to the ER my fever was breaking, but I was pretty delirious. One perk of having cancer and having to go to the ER is that they don't mess around. I waited for maybe 5 minutes before I was taken back to triage and then was instantly taken back to a room. My temp was down to 102 by the time I got back there. They drew tons of blood, did blood cultures from both my IV and my port and admitted me. My white blood count was way elevated to 17,000 and my liver enzymes were elevated to 200 (normal being about 40).

My oncologist thinks I had a reaction to Bleomycin (the B in the ABVD cocktail). The hospital doctors said they thought it was an infection of some sort. By 9pm my temp was normal, I was hooked up to saline and IV antibiotics. Friday was spent just getting monitored to see if my fever was going to come back, checking my levels and waiting for something to grow in my cultures - nothing did.

On Saturday, the hospital oncologist came to pay me a visit. He was an awkward man who wouldn't look at my face. He basically said he doesn't think it was a reaction to my chemo meds and he wasn't really sure what caused it. He said nothing was indicating infection, but sometimes that happens. Since my cultures from my port didn't grow anything, there was not reason for him to do a port study. If I end up in the hospital again then I will most likely have one done. I was given some antibiotics, instructed to call my doctor on Monday and sent home. At this point my liver enzymes were back to normal, my white count was a little elevated and my platelets were about 50 (normal is about 140)

Levaquin - the antibiotic I was given to take at home, has some nasty side-effects and lucky me, I seemed to have got them all. My doctor was off on Monday and her partner sent me to get blood work done to check my levels. I had to take Oliver with me, which is a task in itself, but to top it off I had already taken my medicine and had to drive. I was fine on the way there, but by the time I left I was so dizzy I was seeing black. I ended up sitting in the parking lot for 15 minutes waiting for it to pass. I ended up driving home in a dizzy haze. It was frightening and I never want to do that again, especially with Ollie in the car. If I didn't live 1 mile from the Katy clinic I never would have made it. On the brightside my levels were all fairly normal.

I have spent everyday since then feeling pretty bad. I've had a constant headache and no energy. A lot of quality time with my bed and my books.

I saw my doctor on Friday 8/2 and we came up with a game plan to hopefully prevent another fever. She is still convinced it's a reaction. I'm going to get tylenol before chemo and she is upping my IV steroid. She also gave us some tips to do at home to it down. If it was an infection then the antibiotic should have knocked it out.

Because I was in the hospital on Friday I missed getting my Neulasta shot on Friday. I've been fretting about it due to the fact that the one time I didn't get it after my first chemo my counts were too low. Most people get these shots once a month, but I have to get them after every treatment because my body reacts so poorly to the chemo. I had a bad feeling going in today. Since I haven't been feeling too great it wasn't a shock when my infusion nurse came back with my lab results and said "I have bad, bad, bad new. You're numbers are down the toilet." She gave me a print out of my labs and circled 5 numbers that they look at to determine if I can get chemo.

White blood count: 0.9 the range needed is 4.0 - 10.5
Hemoglobin: 8.9 the normal range is 11.1 - 15.9
Hematocrit: 26.6 the normal range is 34.0 - 46.6
Neutrophils: 14 the normal range is 40 - 74
Neutrophils (Absolute): 0.1 the needed range is 1.8 - 7.8
(Click any of the names for info of what each one is)

My doctor want me to get 5  Neupogen shots. I had this shot after the last time my count was too low. It hurts like crazy. I only had 2 that time and I was in more pain than I've ever been in, so this should be a blast. Over the weekend Craig gets to give me the shots. My nurse had him do today's so he could learn how. I hate shots and the idea of him doing them instead of someone who has been doing it for a while is kind of frightening. If all goes well I will be getting chemo next Thursday. This puts my last chemo on the 29th. I'll be getting chemo then heading to the airport to pick of my childhood best friend to see Backstreet Boys and Jesse McCartney on the 31st. I'm disappointed that the dates fall like that, but I'm determined to feel well that week. Mind over matter worked with Stevi came to visit in June, so I'll make it work again :) Plus it's like getting to celebrate remission with her so it'll be great.

-   -   -   -   -   -
1/16/13 to 8/8/13

63 Veils of blood
3 PET Scans
3 CT Scans
8 IVs
3 Surgeries
10 Chemos
9 Neulasta Shots
3 Neupogen Shots
4 Blood Cultures
1 Hospital Stay

Ports

This post is going to be pretty graphic with pictures of post surgery and an exposed port-a-cath so if your squeamish you may want to skip this one.

As soon as I was diagnosed I had to get a port  put in. A port is a circular disk that goes under your skin in either your chest or on your arm. There is a catheter that is fed to your heart. Chemo is extremely damaging to your veins, this prevents the extent of that damage. The coolest part of a port is you can get it put in and then go straight to chemo that day.

They prefer to put it in the chest, just below the clavicle. My lymph nodes were so abundant and so swollen that I had to get mine in my arm. They wouldn't have been able to feed the catheter between the nodes. This is not ideal, because it goes on the inside of your arm which is sweaty and dirtier than your chest, as well as hard not to overuse.

It is an outpatient and awake procedure. I went to the hospital early in the morning and was headed up about 5 hours later. The actual surgery takes about 45 minutes; most of the time I spent in the hospital was just waiting for my turn. They kept me afterwards for about 30 minutes to make sure I didn't have any negative side effects from the drugs.

When it was time to get started they took me back to the operating room. The surgeon spent a while talking to me while doing an ultrasound of my arm and chest to find the best vein to go with.  Finally, I  was given a sedative. The drug is supposed to make you go in and out of sleep. I was told I wouldn't know what was happening, that I would hear them talking, but not remember any of it afterwards. However, because I'm apparently not one of the lucky ones who gets loopy easily, I was awake and aware through the whole thing. The nurse who was in charge of me did ask if she could give me more. It worked for about 5 minutes and I was back to being wide awake. It wasn't that bad being awake, just kind of freaky knowing that you are being cut open. They do cover your head with a tarp type thing so you don't see anything. Good thing I'm not claustrophobic. Afterwards, I was just sore. It wasn't all that painful at all.

This is right after surgery

I had to keep that bandage on until my first chemo, 3 days later. When it was taken off I had a lovely bruise that was quite impressive.

The steri strips stayed on for about 3 weeks

After the steri strips came off.

About a month after getting it put in I ended up with an infection. I had to keep my arm wrapped up because of work, which caused a lot of problems. A stitch popped out and it was leaking wet stuff. ICK!!! I was put on antibiotics and had to keep a close eye on it for awhile.

I was pretty careless with it. I am stubborn so I was hell bent on still doing all the lifting at work that I wasn't supposed to. I way over used it. It is hard not to when it's in your arm. About a month and a half after the infection I got the lovely surprise of unwrapping it after work one day and finding my port pretty much hanging out of my arm. 

Initiate panic mode!

I literally had a hole in my arm. I had had a scab for awhile, but it had come off and left grossness in its wake.

Did I mention it was gross?!?!

The next day I was headed back into surgery. Yippie! This time it was put in my chest which is awesome!

They did the removal and the replacement at the same time. The surgeon and the nurses couldn't get over my arm. They had never seen anything like that happen before, at least not to that extent. 

I was a lot less nervous going into this surgery than the first time. Thinking that since I had done it once before, I knew what to expect. Oi, was I wrong! This time was sooo much worse. The numbing shots hurt more than they ever had before. Also, I could feel them feeding the catheter. It was all around unpleasant. Oh, and the sedative did diddly squat. They didn't give me extra even though it was a longer surgery. The only time I felt the sedative was for a few minutes after it was pushed through my IV. I was shaking so badly, I don't know how they were able to do anything. The removal of the one in my arm was painful. I could feel him cutting away the skin and sewing it shut. Next time, I'm definitely going to need more sedative! 

The best part was that I got an copy of my xray of my Power Port. It kind of makes the whole experience worth it ;)

-      -      -      -     -     -

1/16/13 to 7/17/13

46 Veils of blood

3 PET Scans

3 CT Scans

7 IVs

3 Surgeries

9 Chemos

8 Neulasta Shots

Guilt

Something you don't hear a lot about when it comes to cancer and other serious illnesses is the internal turmoil it can brew up inside of you. Logically, it makes no sense to feel bad about it - you didn't choose for it to happen to you - you didn't choose to put your family through it - so why feel bad?

Guilt is a funny thing. It has a way of sneaking up on you unjustifiably and sinking it's dirty fangs into your conscience and sub-conscience mind. It can consume you before you even realize it's there.

First, I felt guilty for going to the doctor and having all these expensive tests done. That guilt was short lived and was gone as soon as we learned something serious was going on. 

It hit me really hard when I started missing work. In the 2 years I was at my job before this happened, I called in once and it was when I was pregnant and my doctor told me to spend a day in bed. I  am so stubborn and feel the need to carry my own weight and not let people down that I worked for the week and a half that I was put on bed rest. Missing work has never been an option for me. I was raised that way - if you take on a responsibility then you see it through. So, much to my horror, I had to call in a lot due to PET scans that require being a vegetable for 24 hours in advance, surgeries and their recovery time, chemos and their recovery times, and doctors appointments. I am a people pleaser and I don't like making people have to work around my schedule. Of course everyone at work was understanding and never said or did anything to make me feel bad - tease me about taking so many vacations, but never anything serious. When I finally switched from intermittent leave to continuous, I cried. I felt awful. I didn't want to do it even though I knew it was necessary. I've been gone since the end of May and I'm still feeling kind of rotten about making them deal with covering my shift. I am learning to live with that though. I don't feel nearly as bad as I did at the beginning.

The guilt I feel for what it does to my family is by far the most overbearing sense of guilt I have ever felt. The stress it puts on Craig is beyond unfair. He has stepped up and has taken care of not only me, but Oliver and pretty much everything financial (now if only he could learn to fold laundry and clean a toilet hehe). The further I venture into this cancer journey the more time I spend in bed. This means the more I miss out on Oliver's day-to-day. There was solid 2 months where I spent all my time at work or in bed. Oliver would come to my door and I'd hear knock knock then his little voice yell "mama!" He wouldn't even have to see me go in there, he would just know I was there. He would want me to pick him up and play with him, but because of the surgeries he would only be allowed to cuddle until he got too excited and had to be kicked out. One great thing about having gone on LOA is that I now get to see him for a solid 5 hours between waking up and when Craig gets home. He and I are much happier with that arrangement! Plus there is seeing my parents have to deal with a child who has cancer and knowing that it makes my sister upset when I tell her when chemo makes me throw up. Those are guilts I don't have to come face-to-face with daily so they are easier to ignore (sorry guys!).

I get gut wrenching remorse thinking of other cancer patients - of any kind - who haven't been as lucky as me. I get a physical ache when I think about those who have to fight harder than me, who have worse reactions to the medications, who have to have surgery after surgery, those who don't win their fight and whose families have to watch it all happen. Nobody controls who gets sick, how serious it is, and who makes it, so why am I "lucky"? Why do I get off so easily? What makes me different from a little kid who doesn't get a chance to live cancer-free? I don't know any of these answers, but I do know that we need to figure it out. I almost consider this one a good guilt because it is what I plan on using to propel me in my philanthropy.

There is actually a lot of other things I feel bad about, but do I really need to go into detail about my full head of hair, staying up too late to read (or blog) and the pile of laundry I keep saying I'll get to tomorrow?

I get my PET scan results tomorrow so keep your fingers crossed for good news :)

-    -       -       -       -
1/16/13 to 7/4/13

42 veils of blood
3 PET Scans
3CT Scans
7 IVs
3 Surgeries
8 Chemos
7 Neulasta shots

Inspired

I have been an official cancer patient for 4 months to the day. The last 4 months have been a whirlwind of doctors visits, shots, chemo sessions, lab work, nausea, hair loss, dizziness, heartburn, and tears.

Today potentially marks the last day of my chemo (I'll hopefully know by next Friday). Today also marks the day I have decided what exactly I want to walk away with from this experience. I don't have any idea how to go about achieving my new found goal, but I know I will make it happen, even on a smaller scale.

A co-worker of mine and Craig's son was recently diagnosed with testicular cancer that has spread to his groin lymph nodes. I don't know the exact stage, but based on that information I would guess 3. He is 19, and no doubt scared shitless. Being on leave from work, I haven't had the chance to actually talk to my co-worker about it so all my information has come through Craig. He said he had his first chemo this week and it made him extremely sick. My heartaches for this poor boy.

Thinking about him and a dear friend of mine who maybe relapsing from thyroid cancer, makes me want to help. I want to be peoples support. I want to join people at chemo and share my journey, my tips for the side effects, and just be there for moral support, especially when their closer support system is unable to be there.

I'm planning on crocheting hats and putting together gift bags for those going through chemo. Hand sanitizer, peppermints, crossword puzzles, hats, journals... pretty much anything that I used frequently. I want to take them to the Kelsey-Seybold Cancer Center that I am treated at as well as MD Anderson Cancer Center and maybe a couple other ones in my area.

I feel the need to help others. I realize how incredibly lucky I have been. I also realize how unlucky so many others have been. I've seen way too many people at chemo alone week after week. I have too many friends that have been effected by cancer, whether it be themselves or their loved ones. I have already started my helping processes by joining the Lymphoma Research Foundation as well as the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society for their walks. I plan on doing both every year as many years as I possibly can.

My best friend did her part in helping last week. She donated 12 inches of hair to Pantene Beautiful Lenghts. In December we had decided to do it together in June when she came down from Oregon for her annual visit. For obvious reasons my cut date got moved to March, but she didn't back down. I'm so proud of her and will be sending her hair off with mine and my sisters this coming week. Together we are donating 36 inches of hair... 3 FEET! How crazy exciting is that!

She looks awesome with her short hair.

Even my 2 year old has been giving back. I have been put on Dexamethasone for nausea and it makes me sleep a bit more. I fell asleep on the couch and he covered me up with a blanket. This normally wouldn't be all that surprising, however NOBODY is allowed to have a blanket with him around. He is a blanket napper.

Anyway, that is what as been keeping my mind going for awhile now. Next time I'll update with all my journey as brought on in my absence from here.

-    -       -       -       -
1/16/13 to 6/27/13

41 veils of blood
2 PET Scans
3CT Scans
6 IVs
3 Surgeries
8 Chemos
7 Neulasta shots

Round 4!

I've noticed I have started getting really nervous before chemo. It has been effecting me worse each time and since my blood count was down after the first one I am always a bit nervous about that happening again despite the shot I get. I was shaking with nerves for round 4.

Mallory picked up Ollie early in the morning so Craig and I had time to go to Denny's for breakfast before we had to head downtown. I haven't been eating much before treatment, so I was curious to see if going in with a full stomach would change how I felt. I did not get queasy as the medicine went in, that was a relief! I have been blazing through book lately so I just read my way right through this treatment. Poor Craig, normally I play Ruzzle or Words With Friends with him, but I was at a good part of my book so he had to entertain himself. He was pretty much falling asleep in his chair by the end of it.

Round 4!

I had a CT scan of my neck and chest on 4/22. The nurse gave me my results which are AWESOME! I had a 2 inch by 1 1/2 inch tumor that is now half that size. All of them are showing improvement and some are even resolved (as in back to being the normal lymph node size they need to be). My heart is not enlarged, my lungs look good, my port-a-cath is still in place. My spleen is mildly enlarged from the chemo, which is normal. It is really nice to hear that my treatment plan is working. I see my oncologist on Tuesday. We will be going over it in more detail and we will discuss if the 6 rounds will be enough as well as discuss when my next PET scan will be. I'm actually looking forward to this appointment. :)

My mom took us out to lunch afterwards.I hadn't thought of it until after the fact, but the last time I ate downtown right after chemo I got motion sickness on the way home. I still think part of it is the way Craig drives! I swear I'm always grateful to get home unscathed when he drives. This time I wasn't as motion sick as the first time, though it was still there. I rode most of the way home with my eyes closed, hoping to pull into the driveway any minute.

I spent the rest of the day in bed and throwing up. I was happy to wake up the next day feeling less pukey. The next day was shot day. The nurse who does my shot is really nice. She was asking me how I found out I had cancer and what doctors I have seen. She said my chart said I am to get one more shot after this one, but they will probably add another one for my last treatment.

Per the usual the neulasta shot made want to curl up in a ball and not move. I ended up calling into work for a few days. I spent Thursday-Monday in bed. I left to go to get my shot on Friday, moved to my parents couch on Saturday, saw Iron Man 3 on Sunday (literally didn't get up until we left then came home right after and went back to bed) and stayed in bed Monday. I was feeling very well rested until I had to get up for work on Tuesday, then I was just ready to be back in my bed.

-   -   -   -   -
Since 1/16/13 to 5/9/13

35 veils of blood
2 PET scans
3 CT Scans
6 IVs
2 surgeries
4 chemotherapy
5 neulasta shots

Rounds 2 and 3, lymphonathon and great friends

It has been a really rough month so far. I went in for my 2nd round of chemo on March 28th, but my white blood count was really low (2.0 and the needed range is 4.0-10.5). I had to get 2 shots of Neulasta, a shot that helps boost white blood cells. I got a shot of that on that day and then the next day. The shot was horrible. I handled the first one pretty well, but an hour or 2 after the second one I was in so much pain I had to stay in bed. Since white blood cells are created in your bone marrow it makes your bones ache really bad. I had never been in that much pain before. The only medicine they recommend is Claratin and advil. I honestly couldn't tell a difference with or without the medicine. I was relieved when I woke up on Saturday and wasn't hurting as badly.

I was sent home on 3/28 looking like this

It was all worth it in the end, however. When I went back in on Monday (4/1) all of my numbers were looking good - rather "good enough for chemo" as the nurse putting. This was a good chemo session because my sister got to go with me. She was pretty thrilled to see them hook up the IV through my port and see what I am experiencing. We also got some good sissy time in, which is kind of hard to come by with our kids and lives. I felt pretty well after round 2, just a little bit queasy, but nothing unbearable. I did have to get another shot of Neulasta the next day, that one barely hurt my bones at all.

Chemo round #2!

On Saturday (4/6) was the Lymphomathon. Craig, his brother and sister, my mom, sister, her boyfriend, my mom's friend Marcella and our kiddos all went. Marcella raised over $400! A group of women from a Baby Center forum that I have been on for over 2 years also helped me raise another $150. They also bombarded me that day with pictures of them and their kids sporting violet to show their support from a far. I was definitely feeling the love all day as my phone kept blowing up with facebook notifications of pictures. The walk itself was good. I was pretty nervous since it had been a chemo/neulasta week, but I had no problems. It was only 5k, anymore than that and I wouldn't have made it. They did a survivors photo before it started and a really nice woman pulled me aside to talk to me about her experience and reassure me of my own journey. She went into remission in 2005, had a relapse and has been cancer free since 2007. She was telling me not to worry about anything other than getting healthy and if I relapse it will still be ok and not to lose hope. She also talked to Craig a little bit about being my support and that he is clearly doing a great job at it.

Craig, Christopher, Oliver, Me and Mallory. I got a yellow shirt for being a  survivor/warrior.

The long line of Survivors and supporters walking

Everything was going smoothly until last week (4/9). I had stitches over my port pop and it was leaking really gross fluid. Of course this would happen right when the doctors office is closing so I had to called the after hours line. My doctor called me back within minutes and said not to worry and to just make sure I went in to have her look at it the next day. I had a slight infection, but otherwise it looked okay. She just put me on antibiotics for a week. I went back for my monthly check up on Tuesday (4/16). She was happy enough with how my port is looking and told me to make sure to keep it dry and call if it happens again. She felt around my neck and armpits to see if I'm getting any less lumpy. She said she could barely feel anything. WHOO HOO! :-) She is extremely happy with the progress I have made after just 2 rounds of chemo. The only thing is that since I responded so poorly after the first round of chemo she wants me to get the shots after every round of chemo rather than the planned once a month. Oh, and she was impressed with my full head of hair! She said I'm one of the few she has had hold on to it this long. What can I say, I'm determined ;-)

Round 3 of chemo was this last Thursday (4/18). This time was pretty rough. I was starting to feeling nauseous as the meds were being put in me. We stopped by Souper Salad on the way home for lunch. I ate way too much and spent the rest of the day in bed wishing I hadn't eaten and fighting back vomit. I lost that battle, but I felt so much better afterwards. 

Round 3 of chemo. HALF WAY DONE!

Yesterday, I went in for my neulasta shot and then decided it would be best if I kept myself busy and moving around so I went to the grocery store and then made dinner. I had no real side effects which was awesome! I didn't even take my anti nausea medicine. Today, on the other hand, my bones and muscles hurt. I tried going to work but only lasted about 4 hours before I had to leave. I'll be trying again tomorrow, though I won't be pushing myself. I filed FMLA for a reason :-)

Also, yesterday the same group of woman who donated for the lymphomathon sent me a big box full of cards, a spa gift certificate and an amazon gift card. A lot of the cards had their kids hand prints, doodles or even their raspberry finger prints, it is so cute and sweet. I was so surprised. I am truly amazed with the support they have shown me throughout not only this but my pregnancy and the first 2 years of raising Oliver. Joining that forum was one of the best choices I've made. I hope that one day I am able to return the favor for each and every one of them. I don't have friends who live close by since I moved here after the forced socialization of high school and I'm painfully shy so making friends is really hard for me. It really means a lot to me when the friends I do have show their support like this. I appreciated their kind words in our usual forms of communication, this was just over the top. I hope I never stop feeling this loved. I wish I could bottle up this feeling and save it for a rainy day. 

Thank you again, Ladies.

-  -  -  -  -

Since 1/16/13 to 4/20/13

33 veils of blood

2 PET scans

1 CT scan

5 IVs

2 surgeries

3 chemotherapy treatments

4 neulasta shots

"I'm so sorry you are going this"

I'm not ungrateful for all my well wishers. I love how people I didn't talk to for some time came out of the woodwork that is Facebook and have joined the support train that I so desperately need at this point in my life.

That being said, I'm going to explain why I am not sorry that I have cancer and have been poked, prodded,  cut open, stitched up, scanned,  and drained of 31 veils of blood thus far.

When I was in middle school I read every single Laurleen McDaniel book that had been published. All of her book are cancer stories. I've been reading about bone marrow tests, chemo, radiation,  hospital stays due to infections caused by low blood counts. While reading these books I developed a fascination with cancer and those going through it. Once I read all her books and moved on to Luis Duncan's classics (what? Is I Know What You Did Last Summer not a classic book?  Hmm...), my awe of serious illnesses wore off for the most part.

Whenever I watch a show or movie where someone gets diagnosed with cancer or a tumor, I always without fail think to myself: "wow, I wonder if something is growing in me." Or "that could he happening inside anybody."

I've kept my interest in abnormal cells in a world of fiction. I've never asked for details from anyone I've known who has had cancer or has someone close who has or is battling it. I am unfortunately way too shy to be that vocally curious. I'm careful not to offend anyone because Laurleen taught me that it is a tough topic and relatives of fighters have just as hard a time with it.

I'm not sorry I have cancer. I find it interesting to have abnormal cells and the opportunity to get answers to questions I've had for years. I don't mind the endless tests because I get to talk to nurses who can answer my questions and I get to experience something special. Special in a morbid sense, but still special.

I am not sorry I have cancer because I have one that is a 90% survival rate so I will get to live a life in the end.

I'm not sorry because I get to learn how to live. I'm not a person who goes out and does things. Sometimes it is a fight to get me to go out and do anything. I even struggle with going to see nearby family on a regular basis. I get to see how important it is to not take those who want to get me out, for granted.

I am not sorry I have cancer because I get the opportunity to see that I do have things and people worth fighting for. I struggle with depression. It is good to know I have reasons to be happy and reasons to be here.

I'm also not sorry because Oliver get will grow up knowing my cancer story. He will always know that I fought my hardest to make sure he has a mom to help raise him. I have been able to see just how much he needs and wants me around by the way he knocks on my door saying "mama," when I am ordered to stay away from him.

So, you may be sorry I have cancer and that's ok. Just know that some good does come along with the painful tests,  uncomfortable treatments, surgeries and outrageous bills.

- - - - -
Since 1/16/13 to 4/1/13

31 veils of blood
2 pet scans
1 CT scan
5 IVs
2 surgeries
2 chemotherapy treatments
2 neulasta shots (white blood cell booster)

Let's Play Catch Up - Part 1

On new years day I was cooking dinner and leaned my neck on my hand and I felt a lump hit my palm. At the time I had a sinus infection so Craig and I figured it was from that, so we decided I should wait it out and see if it would go away as I got better. It was almost 2 weeks later when not only had it not gone away, but a second one showed up next to it. I went to my doctor on 1/16 a couple days after noticing the second one. She said it felt as though I had one large lump and was pretty sure I had it longer than originally thought. She sent me for a CT scan on 1/23.



The next day my doctor called and told me that the CT showed it was lymph nodes and I was sent to and ENT, who told me that it also showed I have several more on both sides of my neck as well as in the little bit of chest that was scanned. I felt relieved to know that I didn't have some unknown tumor in my neck. He told me he was concerned because after checking my ears, nose and throat, I had no signs of an infection of any kind.  I was then sent to get an ultrasound (1/29) and a fine-needle biopsy (1/31).

The ultrasound was uneventful and pretty much just like the ultrasounds you get when pregnant except in your neck. My nurse had 0 personality, but was good enough at her job so no complaints there.

As for the biopsy It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it'd be. The numbing shot was really painful though. She did 4 slides which tested for leukemia and lymphoma. It was pretty gross because once she put the needle in, which was led by an ultrasound, she had to wiggle the lymph node around to fill the syringe. I was not expecting that, and was pretty grossed out haha. Craig deserved a husband of the week award. He was helpful all day making sure Ollie didn't climb on me and kept switching out my cold compress when it was time. After I was home and the numbness wore off I was hurting pretty bad because I wasn't allowed to take any aspirin. I could barely lift my head, though that was only the case for that day. I was graced with a lovely bruise that lasted 3 weeks. It took a very long 7 days for the results. When the ENT called he said the results were inconclusive, but did show abnormal cells. He had tested for lymphoma and felt pretty strongly that that is was it is so he wanted to rush to get the open biopsy done. Also, by this point I was feeling some in my arm pits, which concerned him. He ran more blood tests to test for HIV  cat scratch, and mono, all of which were negative.





I was scheduled for my open biopsy on 2/15. Before you can have any kind of surgery you have to do a slew of blood tests to make sure your body can handle the anesthesia, the blood loss, and your clotting levels. It is a pain because for the week leading up you have to make sure you don't take any medicines (asprin, blood thinner) or eat any foods (herbs, green tea, seafood, alcohol, oats and certains of fruits and veggies) that thin blood. My Prothrombin Time (PT) was elevated the first time so the next day I was sent back to the retest. It was elevated again which meant postponing my surgery until I saw a Hematologist/Oncologist and get the OK. On the 15th instead of getting cut open I was getting poked and 7 veils of blood extracted from my arm.

This doctor was pretty sure it was an antibody in my blood. Apparently, if your PT is low it is usually discovered when you are between 1-2 and just started to walk and are fulling and skinning knees. Plus, since I had Oliver with no bleeding problems, it was highly unlikely. She thought there might have been an chance that I had a vitamin K deficiency and put me on some supplements for a few days until she got the labs back. She said she wanted to make sure to get me on them that day, that way the surgery didn't have to get put off again. Because her specialty is also oncology she did a physical exam and agreed with my ENT that it is likely lymphoma. I felt it extremely comforting that my doctors were forward with me by telling me what they thought it could be. Bad news is much easier to swallow when you have heard them mention it before. After the weekend she called with the good news that my vitamin K is normal and so were the other tests she ran. One of them did show an antibody in my blood that will cause PT to show elevated when it isn't really. It is an antibody that actually highers my clotting risk, but she said she will deal with that only if it becomes and issue and that we needed to focus on the lymph nodes first.

Surgery day was rescheduled for 2/22. My mom and Craig went with me, which was really nice. You are never too old to want to see your mommy when you come out of any kind of big medical procedure. I got all prepped and then they sent Craig back to keep me company while I waited for my doctor to be ready for me. Craig thinks it is his job to turn any situation like this into a laughing matter. I don't find it as amusing as he wishes I would. He reminds me of my dad in that way, only my dad is better at it. Practice makes perfect or something like that. He did succeed at making time pass quicker. He was able to stay while the doctor came in and felt around to pick which one to take out. He answered all our questions and Craig got sent away for them to take me in. I remember moving over to the operating table and the two nurses strapping me down. I made some joke about teamwork and then was passed out from the drugs they put in my IV and the gas mask that was put over my face seconds after I finished my sentence. I was asleep in recovery for about an hour and was out the door within 30 minutes of that. I spent the remainder of the day in bed, drugged up on Vicodin.







Click Here to Donate