Getting On With My Life

Wow.  I haven't posted for a long time.  You're welcome.  Busy season at work and changing back to my regular hours has found me pretty dang tired by the time I get home.  Too tired to type?  OK, that sounds pretty lame, but I honestly get home and do next to nothing.

Last weekend, I decided I wanted to go to St. Louis to see my aunt Charlene and her husband Pat.  The last time we were there, we said we'd do it more often because it didn't take long to get there.  That was 2 years ago.  I told Kevin that I wasn't going to do that anymore.  A year of facing  your own mortality will make a person stop planning and start doing.  It was a fun trip, although far too short.  We're already talking about what we'll do the next time we go.

I found the suspicious lump in January and had a biopsy in February.  I was diagnosed in March and had surgery in April.  I got back to work in June.  I finished chemo on September 19th and finished radiation on November 14th.  I have follow up appointments happening now, but that's about it until the exchange surgery, which will be late May or early June.  I should be super excited that I'm completing treatment, and I am happy, but I'm constantly unsettled.

I think that treatment kept me occupied.  I was doing something.  I was actively fighting cancer.  Somehow it isn't as easy as it should be to accept, "OK.  You're all better.  Go on with your regularly scheduled life now."  Your brain doesn't work like that.  I want to ask, "So that's it?" but then again, I don't want to ask that at all.

My hair is finally growing back.  It's not as long as a crew cut yet, but it's moved from "fuzz" to "hair."  LOL  The gray is a lot easier to see right now, but that's what hair color is for.  I'm just looking forward to the day that I have to "fix my hair" to go somewhere.  Silly but true.

I know some people see a therapist after cancer treatment.  I've never considered myself the type to see someone like that, but I see why some do.  I'm not even saying that I won't.  I just haven't decided yet.  I'm fine most of the time, but not all the time.  I know I'll never be the same as before, but I'd like to get past the anxiety issues that sneak up on me at inopportune times.

It makes me VERY thankful for my Facebook group of friends who have gone through this with me.  We are small enough to have gotten to know each other, but big enough that someone is on pretty much 24/7.  If I can't sleep and it's 2 am and I feel the need to chat, someone is there.  Someone to listen to me whine, or laugh at my jokes, or commiserate about the state of our skin after radiation.  So far, that's all the therapy I need.

Overall, I am fine.  I have been cancer-free since surgery in April.  The chemo and radiation were both "just in case."  That is a lot of ammo to go through just because there "might be a burglar out there somewhere," but it's what was advised, so that's what I did.  And I'm fine.  2012 is a year that I'll be glad to put behind me, but I got through it.

Online Relationships

I have a lot of support from my family, coworkers and friends.  Still, when I found some breast cancer message boards while doing research (right after diagnosis,) I started growing close to the members there.  I'd never met them, and will likely never get the chance to meet most of them, but there was something I needed there.  These people were going through the EXACT same thing that I was going through.

They would ask questions that I had in my mind but hadn't verbalized.  They would answer my questions with the hours and hours of research they had done before me.  They would lift me up when I was down and just listen when that was what I needed.  I got to "know" them.  I grew to love them.

Someone in that group decided to start a group on Facebook.  That group grew even closer.  They understand the parts of this that nobody else could understand, unless they'd been through it.  We share pictures of scars and of newly growing eyebrows.  We share stories of wigs and prosthetic breasts.  We laugh, we cry, and we make inappropriate jokes.

Yup.  This is a new group of friends that mean the world to me.  I love them all, and I'm thankful for the internet for bringing them into my life.  I've had a rough couple of days lately, and spending a lazy 3 hours online "visiting" with them this morning just makes me smile.  Thanks, girls!

Reason Number 472 that Cancer Sucks

I've made a lot of friends online who are going through breast cancer at the same time as I am.  Many are on the same chemo drugs I am, and nearly the same schedule.  It is a fantastic place to learn about treatments, side effects, research, etc.  These women have been great for me, even when we're all just complaining to each other.  I feel a lot less guilt when I complain about a side effect to someone else going through it, instead of to the people who have to live with me.

While having a discussion with these ladies recently, I revealed another one of the 10,000 things that I hate about cancer.  Now that I've lost my hair, I've lost my anonymity.  Before the hair went, I could go out in public and blend in as just another woman in the store.  Now, I'm the sick woman.  Yesterday, during lunch, I told my friend that I hated looking sick.  She said that I didn't look sick to her.  What I meant, though, was the obvious lack of hair.

I just can't bring myself to wear a wig.  That is my choice, and I get that.  I am much more comfortable in a hat, buff or a bandanna, although they make it obvious that I have no hair underneath.  Everywhere I go, it's apparent that I have no hair, and the assumption is made that I am going through chemotherapy.  That brings one of two reactions:  I get the "pity look," or the instant gaze aversion.

I'm doing fine.  I'm getting through it.  I'll be halfway through chemo after Wednesday.  Having no hair has cut my shower time by more than half.  There are little silver linings everywhere.  I just miss blending in.  I miss being just another mom, shopping for toilet paper.

Although I cannot wait until a year from now when I have the reconstructive surgery and this is all behind me, I mostly want chemo to end so my hair can come back, so I can be just another face in the crowd.  When the pity looks and averted looks stop.  Yup.  Give me back my anonymity.

Day 11 is NOT My Friend

I guess there's something to be said for knowing what to expect.  I know that days 7-11 are my "nadir" period, or the lowest point for my blood counts.  You may remember day 11 of my last round, which is when I had the nosebleed at work and they had me come in to get blood drawn.  Well, today is day 11.  Guess what happened?

Kevin's mom came up to visit for a couple of days, bringing his sister's son with her.  They headed home late this morning, and we decided to go grab something to eat.  I was starving, and we don't eat out that often, so we decided on 54th Street, which is always a favorite of my girls.  Kevin planned to go to the store afterward, and I knew that my stamina is too low and that I'd best come straight home after eating, so we took two cars.

Natalie and I climbed into my car, and before I was three blocks from home, the nose started bleeding.  I have been keeping Kleenex in the car, thank goodness.  (When you lose your hair, that includes the tiny hairs in your nose, so it tends to be drippy.  TMI?  Sorry.)  Anyway, I turned quickly into the church that we were passing by, and Kevin followed to see what was up.

I came home and told them to go without me, but he didn't want to.  I shouldn't really be in the public right now, anyway, due to germs, but I was awfully hungry.  LOL  He offered to go get something for me to eat before they went, but I didn't want to make them wait.  Finally, I told him that, if it didn't stop in five minutes, they were leaving without me and I'd eat something at home.

Four minutes later, it finally stopped.  Of course, when I lose that much blood (it was a LOT,) I get a horrible headache (way worse than my daily headache) and get completely worn out.  Still, I was hungry, so we went.  My stomach won an argument with my good sense.  I know I'm supposed to call if that happens, but I called last time and they said my blood counts were OK.  I didn't call.

We ate, it was good, and now I'm home.  What a giant pain in the ass this is going to be.  I suppose there are worse things than a bi-weekly bloody nose.  The bright side is that my hair is almost completely gone, so I can stop shedding everywhere.  I'm tired of THAT little treat, too.  I guess it's karma for all the times I griped at my dogs for shedding in the house.

Surviving the Crash

I got out early to see Mom and Dad, and was glad I did.  As I sat on their couch, I could feel it coming.  It made me glad that we live fewer than two miles away from them.  I got home in time for "the crash."  The crash comes after the oral steroids are gone, and seems to leave me comatose for most of a day.  I asked Kevin to take the girls to get some lunch or something and I headed to bed.

Just like last time, I alternated between the bed and the recliner.  My limbs are like spaghetti and my lower back and legs hurt.  My head is full of oatmeal and my conversational skills are that of a carrot.  I'm so glad this only happens once per chemo cycle.  I gave in and went to bed around 6:30 last night, but even with Ambien I was awake at midnight.

I forced myself to stay in bed, and even dozed a bit, until 2:00.  At that point, I gave up.  I may as well get ready for work, if I'm going to be awake.  I'm also losing hair by the hands-full.  You can't tell to look at my head, but it's time to wear a hat, simply for shed control.  Every day is an adventure for me right now.   I should feel a bit better each day this week, so that is something to look forward to.

I'm also thankful that I've found more that sounds good to eat this time around.  Fruit is good, as is chicken and potatoes.  At least I can get some protein, if chicken tastes good to me.  Kevin grilled a bunch up for me, so I'll take that for lunches this week.  I hear the protein will make me feel better.  

Finally, the headaches are still here, but very mild compared to before.  My sleep patterns aren't improving, but the steroids being cut must have helped some.  Days seven and eight of the last cycle are the days when my headache hit the hardest, and I'm day six of this cycle.  I'm determined it's not going to happen this time.  

Oh, and we get Wednesday off!  Another plus!  I can't be in the sun and I wear out pretty easily, but Mom has a/c, so we'll go out there and let the girls blow some stuff up.  Yup, just another week, surviving chemo.

The Whiny Post

Sorry to all those who have said how amazing I'm doing, but this post is whiny, so maybe skip it?  I like the idea of you guys thinking I'm such a butt kicker and all, but today nearly won this battle.

I woke up at 1:45, tried to go back to sleep until 2:30 and gave up.  Got up and ready, took meds, talked to Kevin, felt the 'roids kick in, and headed to work.  The morning went great, as always, because of the steroids, but they were taken earlier, so they also wore off earlier.  I should have left at noon, but I was sure I could get more time in.

It turns out good (in one way) that I did, since something came up at 1:00 that needs attention before Monday.  I volunteered to do it from home, since it can be done time anytime before Sunday  morning (on my time = doable for me) and I left at 1:30.  It was the first time that, all the way home, I regretted how long I'd stayed.  Or how far I lived from the lab.  Either one.  Both.

Now I'm back in the recliner.  I likely won't move until morning.  Two dear work friends bought Funhouse Pizza for me to bring home, so I have dinner on the table for my family like a good mom.  :)  If I wasn't a lump in the corner, someone might buy that line.  Anyway, so many coworkers have sent meals and food home and it has helped tremendously.

Tonight I take my last does of steroids, get my hair cut as soon as they open (before the medicine is out of my body) and get home.  I hear I'll likely sleep all day.  We'll see.  After three nights of not sleeping, I'll take a full day of it.  Also, I've been advised to ask my oncologist for a mild sleep aid for the next round, and I won't have to go through these three sleepless nights.

And this concludes the pissing and moaning.  Over and Out.

Edited later to add:  Make that FOUR sleepless nights.  *sigh*

The Look Good, Feel Better Class

Going to something like a Look Good, Feel Better class is WAY outside of my comfort zone.  I'll go to a Mary Kay party or something, but that is usually at the home of someone I know, or I at least know several of the attendees.  This was me, going to find out how to take care of bad skin, bad nails, and a bare head (cancer is FUN) with a room full of people I don't know.  I also wear very light makeup, and figured the esthetician would push heavier makeup than I usually wear.

I had asked, when I scheduled the class, if one or both of my girls could attend with me.  They experiment with makeup a lot, and lately I am half useless without a second set of ears.  I was told that guests couldn't come because of patient confidentiality.  I completely understand that, so I set out on my own.  DEFINITELY outside my comfort zone.   I knew NOBODY in that little room.  Oh, and each of the other four attendees in the room had someone with them to help/observe.  I was the only one alone.

The two hour class lasted only an hour, because the person that teaches wigs, scarves, hats, buffs, etc. wasn't there.  That is 90% of the reason I wanted to go.  *sigh*  They did teach how to draw on eyebrows, which I will need.  I plan to teach Monica today so I'll have help when the time comes.  All of the skin care products, makeup, etc is donated, so everyone's kit was slightly different, but I bet each contained at least $150 worth of product.

Any time any of us mentioned something that we wouldn't use, the lady told us to take it for someone we knew (my girls will always try new makeup) or we could swap with each other.  Heck, two or three of the other ladies gave me several of their things when they found out I had teen girls at home.  Everyone was really sweet.

Things I didn't like:

• I could have taken someone, and was told I couldn't.  I would have been so much more comfortable with Monica or Natalie there.  I'm sure you aren't supposed to, and the others just didn't ask in advance, so they let them stay.
• The head covering lady didn't show.
• Some of the makeup is WAY dark or heavy for me.

Things I liked:

• The American Cancer Society offers these classes for free (and all over the city.)
• The products sent home are completely free, and are full-sized...not trial sizes.
• They will let you take the class multiple times, but you can only get one kit.  That means, I can attend another one later for the part they skipped.
• There were people there with far worse cancers than I have, or on their third recurrence, and it made me very thankful for where I am, physically.
• The girls will LOVE all the cool makeup products that they are going to inherit from this.
• I am always proud of myself when I do something that pushes my boundaries.

Obviously, the good far outweighs the bad.  It's an amazing program and I'd never say I'm sorry I went.  I will attend another class for the head-covering portion, I'm sure.  If you have someone in your life who finds out they are going to face chemo, make sure you tell them about this class.

My Tammy, and My Plans

Tammy and Greg came to visit tonight.  They brought along some Bates City BBQ for dinner.  LOVE!  It was amazing as usual.  We had a good visit for several hours, and I committed to something else with her.  At Christmas time, a customer sent a SpaFinder gift card to me.  I am NOT a spa-type of girl.

Since the "C" word was dropped on me, I thought it might be nice to get a pedicure and just make something feel kind of pretty before the ugliness begins.  The problem is, I have issues with feet.  Feet are gross.  As I was talking to Tammy tonight, she said that she had feet issues too, but LOVED the only pedicure she's ever had.  OK, enough for me.

Tomorrow, we'll go get pedicures together.  Wish me luck.  LOL  I'm not sure how I'll feel about it.  It will also be good to spend some time with my Tammy.  It's been too long.  We may even celebrate Cinco de Mayo a bit.  You never know.

Oh crap.  I only own tennis shoes!  What good is a pedicure if it can't be seen?  *sigh*  This is why I avoid being a girl most of the time.  Give me jeans, a sweatshirt, tennis shoes, and a pony tail and I'm fine.  Oh well, we'll figure something out.

Oh yeah:  Most of the hair is going tomorrow, too.  Not all, but I have three weeks to get it down to nearly nothing.  I don't want the shock of waking to 12" chunks of hair on my pillow, so I'm prepping in stages.

Long story short (too late) I'm having a fun day with Tammy tomorrow.  Yay!