Don't Worry, Be Happy

I've climbed off the phone and decided to hunker down and try to be comfortable while waiting for the blessed thing to ring. Hanging out there, balancing precariously on that hard plastic, wasn't conducive to getting my "To Do" lists done anyways.  NOPE ... no phone call yet!  Well, my cell did ring yesterday, and I recognized it as a Kelowna number.  I abruptly hung up my land line from answering my neighbour that, no, I had in fact not heard from Kelowna about a radiation start date. It was my radiation oncologist confirming my last chemo date. He had recorded June 5 in my file (I saw him on June 6), and four weeks need to transpire before they want radiation to start. After correcting him with the actual May 17th date, and assuring him that a lot more than four weeks had gone by, he went on to ask how I was doing.  Anxious! Frustrated! Agitated! How many other adjectives can I spit out on the spur of the moment??  He PROMISED me a phone call by Friday --- I'm holding my breath.  I refuse to exhale until the phone rings.

Side Effects: Forty-one days after my last chemo cycle, I am still experiencing side effects.  A pessimist would complain about the unsightly finger nail changes -- ridges, black streaks, and -- the latest -- a total of 3 nails separating from the nail bed.  Not pretty!

However, in my attempt to remain optimistic, I will visualize the chemo drugs continuing to fragment those cruel cancer cells into oblivion.  The Paxlitaxol must still be at work -- my nails are the evidence!

Other side effects are ending.  Hair is returning fast and furiously to my body.  All the weird little bumps that covered my head for the past two weeks have burst forth with peach fuzz! I've been watching, waiting, examining my scalp in the mirror every day, just like a farmer watches expectantly for the planted seed to spring into life. Now, however, my few "long" hairs (relatively speaking) that never fell out look rather ridiculous as they tower over the new growth.  Soon, I'll have the pleasure of shaving legs and armpits, as the stubble grows a fraction of a millimeter each day.  I am oh-so-curious to see what colour my hair will be (not gray, p-l-e-a-s-e!!), and if it will be curly, as so many people have predicted.  Time will tell!

Eating right and working hard: My quest for a fit, strong body continues by fueling it with healthy choices. I wanted to show you the pizza Kate made us for supper a few nights ago. I have been trying to not eat so much wheat, so she found a recipe for a crust using cauliflower. Yes -- you read that correctly -- cauliflower. Other ingredients included nutritional yeast, egg white, and a few spices. She topped the pizza with spinach, olives, artichoke hearts, and a generous supply of mushrooms (on my half only). Hope this makes you hungry! It was soooooo yummy!

In my effort to work out every day, here is some disgusting evidence that I do, in fact, work hard.  Jillian Michaels keeps telling me that I have to challenge my body if I want to make progress with my fitness level.  Is sweat evidence of that?  

A new day:  I had a horrific day yesterday.  Receiving upsetting news, I let it get the better of me.  I cried, screamed, worried, and vented to many people.  It upsets me when intelligent people make illogical decisions that affect me.  I can't really share more at this stage, but I'm praying I will remember to trust and not worry today. Easier said than done  :)

Fighting, Working, and other Thoughts

I can Fight, I am Fighting

A few posts ago, I intimated how I was struggling with waiting for radiation because, since chemo has been finished, I feel like I'm not doing anything to battle this disease.  My precious daughter, Kate, is a great inspiration and motivator.  She reminded me that I do have the ability to fight right now by controlling what goes in my body and how hard my body works.  Kate has encouraged me to eat super-healthy and to exercise every day.  Most days, my eating consists of the following:

     Breakfast - either poached egg whites and fresh fruit or lentils with cranberries

     Lunch - fresh veggies with hummus, smoothie with protein powder, berries & tons of spinach,

                   and fresh fruit

     Snack - 10 almonds or unlimited vegetables

     Supper - a protein (veggie burger, seitan, tofu), and a mound of vegetables so big it topples

                   off my plate

I said to David last night that if Kate lived with us 365 days a year, I'd weigh 90 pounds!  Well, I haven't weighed 90 pounds since I was about 5, so maybe not 90, but w-a-a-a-a-y less!!

Virtually every day I exercise for a minimum of 30 minutes.  I have tried some pretty difficult workout DVD's and am able to get through the majority of them now.  YAY -- my stamina and cardio fitness are returning!!  Yesterday, we went for another walk/run and I clocked a total of 16 minutes running -- my best yet!

Hair Baldness

Remember the wig I bought (well, Blue Cross bought for me)??  I have virtually never worn it.  I don't really like how it looks, and it's hot. On a few occasions, I've felt "obligated" to wear it ... such as Kate's graduation ceremony, where I wanted 100% of the attention to be on Kate, not on me ... but I hated it the entire time.  If I was someone who had to have hair on my head, I likely would have taken the wig to my favourite stylist, Natalie, and had her make it look a little more up-to-date.  As it is, it sits on my dresser gathering dust.

Just a reminder what my wig looks like :)

Initially, when I lost my hair, I only went out in public with my head covered.  Admittedly, having never been a hat person, there was a bit of a novelty factor in buying and trying various head coverings.  Some of them even looked not too bad!  Remember... always the people-pleaser ... I thought I was doing it for other people -- so as not to embarrass them.  Very often, I even asked those I was with, "Will it embarrass you if I don't wear my hat?"

Remember my cut-off T-shirt look?                        My new Victoria hat from Roberta's Hats.

Truth of the matter is, I am most comfortable with nothing on my beautiful, bald head. And, if people don't like it, it is their problem to deal with. Right, Char?

There was a time in my life when I was an incredible attention-seeker. I had blue ... like, royal bright blue ... spiky hair and dressed in outrageous clothes. I didn't want to "fit in" -- I wanted to be the "odd one out", enticing stares and whispers.  I've outgrown that!! Problem is, for some strange reason, bald women invite double takes ... triple takes, even. Why are people so mesmerized by me? Is it my beauty? my fit, sculpted body? NO!!

My sneaking suspicion is that they are curious, concerned, inquisitive?  The occasional person will give me a big smile -- perhaps a comrade, a fellow-survivor -- and I give them an enormous smile in return.  What I don't want is sympathy, thank you very much.  For as often as I whine and snivel about various aspects of this dreaded disease, I wouldn't trade my situation for ANYTHING!!!  Having cancer has brought me tremendous blessings and taught me so many lessons!  God works ALL things for good!  I have SO many silver linings, I don't have enough fingers and toes to count them all!!

Returning to Work

A visit to my GP in Ashcroft this week brought the exhilarating news that I can return to work in September -- sort of.  Paperwork in hand, I marched in ready to plead my case and fight to be able to go back to work at the start of the school year. Dr. Kitshoff listened to my update on the last nine months (she hadn't seen me since sending me off for the first surgeon consultation before my diagnosis), and then proceeded to fill in all the blanks.  Unfortunately ... in my opinion ... she only wants me to work part-time in September.  Therefore, I will work mornings only for the month and, all things going swell, will be full time by October 1.

Several Hoards of people have asked me, "What's the rush??"  In a nutshell ... I need to go back to work!  My brain needs the stimulation, my mental health needs the activity, my body is physically ready for the exhausting challenge, and my emotions need precious students to get to know and care for.

I'm even more ecstatic now that I've met with my new principal and learned more about my new position at the high school.  In layman's terms, I will be teaching the alternate program -- for kids who struggle to fit in socially, emotionally, and academically.  It is not special education, as I have done in the past, but is right up my alley working alongside vulnerable kids.

I've already started planning :)
Come on, September, hurry up and get here!

      

I'm Getting Mighty Uncomfortable Sitting on top of the Phone

On Monday, Esther and I traveled to Kelowna again for my "lining up/tattooing" appointment.  My neighbour, who just finished up radiation for a cancerous brain tumor, told me to expect a very long appointment.  Obviously, cases differ and so does time required to get set up, as I was in and out in record time.

I was attended by three CT technicians who carefully placed me on the "bed". I use the term loosely because it was a slightly-inclined, hard plastic slab, with a sponge triangle to support my bent knees, and an unyielding, plastic head and neck support. Next, my right arm was arranged in two angled supports above my head. I was told to "lay heavy" and not to help them as they pushed and prodded me into perfect alignment with the center mark on the machine.  Once they were satisfied with my positioning, four black felt marks were put at N, S, W, and E on my "breast".

Getting a CT is not my favourite thing.  Even though the "doughnut" is not too wide, when it is my chest area that they are scanning, it's my head that repeatedly goes in and out of the doughnut.  My claustrophobia reeks havoc on my rational brain and usually wins by causing me great anxiety.

For those of you who have never had the pleasure of getting a CT scan,

here is what the machine looks like.

I'm a tattooed woman!!!  Something I declared I would never, ever do!  Esther (who has several) was rubbing her hands with glee that I had joined the ranks of the "tattooed of the world".  Initially, I was told I would get 3, but ended up with only 2.  Thank Heaven, as it was not an enjoyable process. Why would anyone ever choose to do this to themselves???

Two of my four felt marks (E and W) were swabbed with rubbing alcohol.  Next, a drop of ink was placed on the precise spot. A needle was used to puncture my skin and rub around a bit to make sure the ink got under the surface.  The tattoo directly over my sternum hurt like the dickens because there's no padding there.  It felt like she was tattooing bone!

The entire appointment took a grand total of about 20 minutes, and we were on our way again.  I was hoping to leave with my start date for radiation, but ....  NOPE!!  I was told to expect a call within one-two weeks with a start date.

What?????

Dr. Chowdhury had told me I'd be starting radiation within one-two weeks.  Now, I'm just getting my call regarding a start date in one-two weeks.  Hold the phone here -- someone's got their wires crossed!

Once again the innocent victim of the medical system, I wait ... and wait ... and wait.  The phone does not ring ...  I've waited 4-1/2 day ... or 105 hours ... or 6,300 minutes ... or 378,000 seconds for the blessed call.

Nothing!!!

... and, it's getting awfully uncomfortable perched here on top of the phone.

Once again, I'm living my life waiting for the phone to ring.

P-L-E-E-E-E-E-A-S-E!!!

Cancer Can Crush the Feeble-Minded

I’m having an extra-marital affair.  He’s tall and dark, but definitely NOT handsome.  He looms over me like a wispy, black form with svelte arms that try to encircle me and choke out my life.

His name is Cancer.

In the past, I’ve thought of this relationship as a dance – even wrote about it.  However, in the last few days, my thinking has changed.  This is more than a mere one-time polka one might have at a wedding reception with an uncle or the nerdy guy that looks lonely … this is a full-on relationship. 

There was no casual meeting, eye contact, flirting, wooing, then courtship.  Cancer and I, we went “all the way” right off the bat – jumped in with both feet, so to speak -- or at least, jumped in with an entire breast (if breasts could jump).  Well, I have one that jiggles pretty successfully, but Dr. Meredith will fix that up right quick J J

Problem is … Cancer is a control freak!!  Usually, I make fast tracks in the opposite direction when I start feeling controlled – been there, done that!  However, no matter how fast I sprint, cancer keeps pace.  He twirls me, enticing me to attempt the next move, all the while knowing he desires all control.  I can’t outrun him, I can’t hide, I have to stand face-to-face, look him in the eye, and decide to fight.

I hate confrontation!  It’s not in my personality to fight with people – I’m a people-pleaser.  But, this “partner” is different -- selfish, greedy, even.  He causes a riot of emotions to erupt from my inner-most being – resentment, anger. Like a dandelion seed, I can often feel blown about, wafting on the breeze created by Cancer’s breath. Some days it even feels good to hate, with anger fueling my next move, driving me on, and motivating me to fight all the harder.

My quirky partner, however, is a terrific life-teacher.  Even though he has caused me loss – a breast, my ability to work, time with my students, my fitness level – he has taught me well. Life is fragile – my every breath, a gift.  People are precious, and those I love, priceless treasures.  Cancer dictates the moves and teaches the next step, but I control my attitude, and the level of my faith, during this relationship. 

I hope and pray this relationship is “over” soon – or as “over” as it can ever be.  I have a feeling that Cancer will always lurk in the shadows, selfishly wanting to float to the forefront again as my chief source of worry and anxiety.  I don't want so much as a fleeting flicker of doubt to cross my mind or to cloud the months and years ahead of me.  I want to see the future clearly – not always peering through anxiety-frosted glass.

Cancer can crush the feeble-minded.  I will not let this happen to me.  This relationship happened for a reason -- for me to be a student learning patience, and remembering that if I get complacent, God will get my attention somehow.  Thankful for the life lessons I'm learning, I fight on!

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone!

Chemo Withdrawal and Partying with my Friends

For several weeks now, I have been planning on having a "Chemo's Done" party.  Realizing that my cancer treatment isn't done yet, I almost gave up the idea, but it was important to me to mark the occasion in some way.  What was supposed to be a casual get together with snacks and visiting at the park across the street was kiboshed by howling winds and gray skies.  Everyone came to my house, instead.

It was utterly fantastic to see everyone!!  As we visited and ate over the 2-1/2 hours, I realized just how much I missed all of my colleagues.  Can't remember if I told you this yet, but I recently accepted a new position at Ashcroft Secondary School for September (yes, it's yet to be determined by my doctor when, if, and how much I can return in September, but the job's mine nonetheless). My entire staff was grilling me on why I left the elementary school and moved to the high school. My party was a perfect way to ensure I got to see everyone since I likely won't go back to say an official "good-bye".

Telling my chemo stories, and relaying events of nurses, doctors, and visits with other patients made me recognize a very strange fact ....

I miss chemo!!

I'm a crazy woman!!  However, it's the truth. Here's a few reasons why I think this is true:

1.  Chemo is a routine -- and I thrive on routine.

2.  Chemo is predictable:

     - doctor appointments & bloodwork every second Thursday

     - chemo every second Friday

     - hair falls out when it's predicted to

     - most of the predicted side effects come to pass

3.  Chemo is social -- I love people and I need to be with people. Chemo was an

     excellent visiting time with daughters and even with other patients.

4.  Chemo felt like I was doing something to fight the cancer, and now I haven't

     been "fighting" for  four weeks.  I've just been lollygagging about putting in time.

At this moment, chemo is over ...  now what??

It's just a matter of time until I'm "fighting" again, but using radiation this time. Every time I think of 28 radiation sessions, Imagine Dragons' recent song "Radioactive" plays over and over in my head! (Even though the literature tells me that I'm not actually radioactive!!)  Will I feel the same withdrawal from radiation?  It, truly, will be the end of my treatment.

So ... I will find ways to fill the long days until radiation begins. There are some exciting events happening that will help tremendously -- Kate's graduation in Victoria, seeing my Grade 7 students "graduate" to the high school, visits from precious family.

I will be a "fighter-in-training" for these weeks. A fighter needs to be in exceptional shape to combat her opponent!!

I'm fighting on!!

Relief and Radiation

Another week -- oh my, how time flies!!  It is hard to believe that it's already been five days since I had my two Kamloops appointments.

Having Esther glued to my side, we headed off to the Cancer Clinic for a check-up with Dr. Proctor. He asked me about my last chemo cycle and if I had experienced any new side effects. After updating him on my ongoing issues with numb and tingly toes, he was going to send us on our way. It was then I inquired as to whether the CT results were in.  He, mistakenly, thought he had already shared the results with me. No!! It's been driving me crazy for two weeks, waiting to find out!!

So ... IT'S ALL GOOD NEWS!!  The abdomen CT revealed the same lesion on my liver as had been spotted in November. It's characteristics are still consistent with a cavernous hemangioma -- YAY!!!! That's fantastic news! Apparently, in November, a 6mm spot had also been noticed (no one told me about that one), but it did not appear at all on the new CT. Dr. Proctor wants me to have one more CT in 6 months, just for a thorough follow-up. If the lesion still has the characteristics of a hemangioma at that point in time, he will assume that all is well with my liver.

The chest CT was totally clear -- clear lungs, clear chest area -- WHAT A TREMENDOUS RELIEF!!!

Then, it was off to Dr. Meredith's office to see if I needed another inflation. The tape measure came out, as did the Sharpie, and I was measured, poked, lifted, marked, and scrutinized. Dr. Meredith decided on one last inflation with saline since radiation can sometimes shrink a bit of the fluid. He wants the best outcome for me, post-reconstruction, so I was more than willing to take his advice and have one more inflation. Hokey man -- this "breast" is H-U-G-E!!!  I'm usually quite a stomach-sleeper, but trying to lay on this thing is like laying on an inflexible, large rock.

 NOT comfortable!!!

Thursday morning, Esther and I hit the road bright and early. I left Ashcroft about 5 a.m., picking Esther up just after 6. I'm always a "play it safe" kind of person, so I allowed TONS of time to make it to my 10:30 appointment. You never know when you might run out of gas, get a flat tire, or get delayed by an accident. Other than struggling to find the Cancer Agency on the hospital grounds (thank Heaven for iphones!!) and wondering where on Earth we would park, all went smoothly.

Dr. Chowderhy is likely the most down-to-earth, easy-to-talk-to doctor that I have encountered on this entire journey (of course, it doesn't hurt that he's a very attractive man!!). He answered every one of my questions in great detail, in plain English. Even the "Why is radiation needed?" question that I had asked several oncologists with no satisfaction, was answered in one simple, easy-to-understand sentence.  Here goes ...

Chemotherapy works through the circulatory system ... hence, the reason why it is given by intraVENOUS (no matter which method -- port, PICC, or traditional IV). Chemo is extremely effective in killing cancer cells in the bloodstream, organs, and soft tissue. HOWEVER ... it is fairly ineffective in the lymphatic system. Why didn't anyone ever fill me in on this fact earlier?? I had one lymph node involved -- HUGELY INVOLVED -- BURSTING INVOLVED!! Therefore, even though the chemo may have killed some cancer cells in my lymph system, radiation is needed to kill all lymph nodes in my chest and armpit area.

     That wasn't one sentence, was it??  Dr. Chowderhy did a better job explaining than me :)  :)

The long and short of it is that I am absolutely convinced that radiation is necessary AND beneficial. I will have a total of 28 sessions, Monday to Friday, likely starting the week of June 24, with the goal of killing off approximately 80 lymph nodes in my chest and armpit area. Even as we speak, I am holding my breath waiting for the phone to ring about another appointment this week for my planning/lining-up/tattooing session.

The building of patience continues on!

The "Big C" Stare Down, but Trusting Regardless

I have had a tremendously exciting week away in Alberta.  Every day was filled with fun activities and memory-making moments.  It was definitely one of THE MOST overwhelming, tiring, and mind-blowing weeks in my entire life!!

Now ... back to real life ... in Ashcroft ... with cancer.  Other than having to remember to cover my head so as not to embarrass people on my trip, and answer questions from some curious relatives, I almost forgot I had cancer for a whole, entire week.  Today, as I anticipate going to the oncologist and plastic surgeon tomorrow, and to Kelowna on Thursday, the "big C" is staring me down, nose-to-nose.

 

I DON'T like it -- I'm FREAKED OUT!!

During "life before cancer", I always seemed to have the ability to be an eternal optimist.  I still like to think that I live my life optimistically, but it's feeling extremely difficult these last few days as I anticipate getting my CT results.  Perhaps I'm an ostrich -- I'd rather just stick my head in the proverbial sand, cross my two ostrich toes, and hope for the best.  However, I keep telling myself that ignorance isn't always bliss.  Dr. Proctor said this is a "privilege" to get a chest CT at this early stage after treatment.  The liver CT is supposed to be reassurance that the lesion they saw in November is, in fact, a benign cavernous hemangioma -- a tangle of blood vessels -- something with no signs or symptoms and never needing treatment.  The chest CT is supposed to be reassurance that there is not, at this 7-month mark since diagnosis, any sign of regrowth of the cancer.  My rational, intelligent brain says that the chest CT is a tremendously good thing, instead of waiting for the 12-month mark or longer, but I so don't want to hear the words "The cancer is back".  Somehow, I think that not hearing it for 6 more months would be easier to take.  Call me crazy!!

Thankfully, I will have Esther at my side when I get the news tomorrow.  Bad or good, news is always easier to take with someone you love dearly close at hand.

Esther will also accompany me to Kelowna on Thursday for the radiation consultation.  Since I have already had one of these in Victoria, I am not nervous about that appointment at all.  Boy, the doc better come prepared with answers, though, because I have my written (no forgetting!) list of questions all ready.  Here's a few of them:
- Why radiation? If chemo is supposed to kill EVERY cancer cell floating out there in my body, why is radiation necessary?
- Apparently, if 10-15 lymph nodes were removed (for me, it was a total of 13), the chance of serious side effects from radiation may outweigh the benefits.  What are these serious side effects? Do these side effects outweigh the benefits in my case?
- 10-20% of women receiving radiation will benefit by avoiding regrowth.  Is this a high enough stat to outweigh the side effects in my case?

Now, don't get me wrong!  I'm NOT adverse to radiation if there is an obvious benefit, such as a significant reduction in the chance of cancer regrowth.  I'd be a crazy woman NOT to get radiation if that is the case.  However, I want to be an intelligent and informed patient, not just blindly accept whatever the radiation oncologist tells me.

Whatever the outcome of the CTs, whatever the outcome of the radiation consultation ...

I WILL trust and NOT be afraid!
       I WILL trust and NOT be afraid!
              I WILL trust and NOT be afraid!