The Road Bump

Road Bump Negotiated

2008-05-28T13:27:00.000-07:00

It has been months since I've posted here. Months since I've even thought about this blog. For anybody reading this who is facing their own cancer diagnosis, take heart! At least for THIS breast cancer patient, life is back to almost normal. And, in fact, better than it was pre-cancer diagnosis. Really.

I have a new full-time job that I started in April. Yeah. It offers most of what I had hoped for, including a window AND a door. The kids are doing great and seem to have weathered the "sick mom" time without permanent damage. The guitar lessons I gave while on the couch last summer were a huge success and I have quite the budding rock star on my hands. I've been getting out in the yard and tackling projects I could only dream about a year ago. My strength is returning. It isn't what it was but give me a year and it will be.

The hair continues to grow. I've had it cut three times so far - woohoo! I got it colored when I was asked if I qualified for a senior discount. With color it feels more like "me" than when it was grey. My eyelashes and eyebrows continue to fall out at intervals but oh well. My arm still feels funny (and probably will forever) and sometimes swells a bit but so far nothing awful. My biggest complaint is lack of sleep due to hot flashes waking me up every couple of hours and keeping me awake for an hour at a time. Studies show that women who get hot flashes after treatment are less like to have a recurrence so I try and accept the lack of sleep gracefully. And that's really the crux of it all: accepting the changes gracefully and moving into the next phase of life. A good life with my kids, family, friends and FBF in a community that showed me amazing support during a difficult time.

If you've been diagnosed with breast cancer, I highly recommend the supportive online community at http://www.breastcancer.org/. And send me a comment. I'd love to send a kind word your way. If I can get through it, so can you.

Road bump having been successfully negotiated I am out of here!

Not what I expected to have happen last week

2008-03-03T12:08:00.001-08:00

I am unemployed.

This should NOT have been a shock to me, given the real estate market's downward trend over the last year. But still. I was there for four years and with 2 days notice, boom, I'm done. It makes me sad that it ended. I will miss my co-workers immensely.

Today is my first day at home. My stomach is churning with anxiety (not helped by intense insomnia last night) over the unknown. It's so hard not to know where one's life is going. It's so hard to realize how little control we all really have. What a ride this year has been! I have to remember that I've been here before. I have stood at the edge of what I know and when I step out there is always a path before me. I just can't see it right now.

Here's a partial list of what my next job will offer: creativity, autonomy, hours 9-3, at least $20 hour equivalent, fun atmosphere, variety, flexibility, easy commute, family friendly, can work some from home, I will be appreciated, and I will have windows.

Now I have to go finish cleaning out the linen closet.

I am overcome

2008-01-29T20:20:00.001-08:00

I went to Florida last weekend.

I sat on a beach chair and dozed in the sunshine, listening to the gentle waves and burying my toes in the fine, white sand. I held The FBF's hand. I looked for shells.

I started to cry.

The enormity of the journey I've been on is just starting to hit me. Had I sat down a year ago and imagined where I'd be now I would never in a million years have guessed. What started out as a road bump has been so much more: cancer treatment has left me with an entirely new map filled with roads I'd only dreamed of. And this is the cool part: I love where this journey is taking me. I love my life. I am so overcome with gratitude and happiness lately that sometimes it makes me cry.

Even when I'm sitting on a beach.

The FBF

2007-12-26T20:14:00.000-08:00

The day after my birthday I received the following email on my myspace page:

August 1, 2007

Hi LeeAnne,

You don't know me, but I have read your blogs and your story and it has touched my heart immensely. I want you to know that you are in my prayers daily and that I believe you will prevail. The owner of my company battled breast cancer twice and beat it, and I know you will too.

I know that it is one of the most difficult things that you have ever been through and some days you wonder whether it is worth the pain and fatigue and depression. I want you to know that it IS worth it, as you have beautiful children and your art is beautiful. You have much to offer this world and I would be proud to get to know you as a friend.

I really appreciate how candid you have been in your blogs and know how difficult it must be to share your innermost feelings with many people whom you have never met. Your courage and your determination is contagious and I am certain that you have inspired many.

I hope that you will find it in your heart to add me as your friend, and that someday we can meet for a margarita or three and discuss life and humor and everything else that life has to offer because as you know, we all are here for a very short time and we need to make the most of it.

Looking forward to hearing from you, much love and prayers,

The FBF

************************************************************************
The email was accompanied by a profile of a man my age, who lived 3 miles away. I was not overly impressed, but I've always welcomed new penpals and he seemed nice enough for an amusement.

Little did I know what was starting. We traded emails, sometimes writing back and forth 3, 4 even 5 times a day. We shared our stories and discovered a tremendous amount in common. So much in common that sometimes it was eerie. The friendly banter began to take on a flirtatious edge...

After a month of writing, a weekend of constant IMs and several nights of hours-long, laugh-filled phone conversations it was time to meet and see if there was any sort of connection in person. I'd done enough internet dating to know that you can have the greatest online rapport and even hit it off on the telephone, but that doesn't necessarily translate over to real life. I wasn't into wasting time... if there was no chemistry I was going to have to swat this guy. Quickly.

So on the afternoon of August 31, a couple of days after writing this, I called The FBF to tell him that if he wanted to meet me, I'd be laying on a chair at Starbucks while the cleaning ladies were at my house. He said he'd be there. When he walked in and smiled at me that was it. Within 2 seconds of meeting him I knew that we had SERIOUS chemistry. I also knew that we were going to be significant to each other.

I was right. And God? Thanks for the awesome surprise. You rock.

A Truly Happy Holiday

2007-12-19T21:52:00.000-08:00

Here is an attempt at creating a holiday card. The first I've done in quite a few years.

I'm thrilled to be getting ready for Christmas. Happy as anything that I have enough energy to do what I need to do. I've been working about half time; resting when I can, but mostly just conserving energy when possible so that I can keep up with my kids and the extra demands of the holiday season. I feel good. Sometimes fatigued, yes, but able to keep up. Yeah! My daughter had a choir concert last week and my son's band concert was last night. Just attending these events is something I could not have done a few months ago. I've been cooking, too, almost every night, and enjoying that little act of normalcy.

The tree is up and beautiful; full of an intermingling of my ornaments and the FBF's. Presents are (mostly) ready and wrapped and under the tree. I don't feel any of the usual December stress or pressure. I'm just truly happy to be able to partake in it.

Giving Thanks

2007-11-21T13:46:00.001-08:00

What I am thankful for on this eve of Thanksgiving 2007:

- My bosses who have been amazingly patient and generous. They will never know how much they have helped me by allowing me to focus on recovery instead of worrying about having to be in the office.

- My parents who came to town every other week for 4 months and not only sat with me during my interminable chemo appointments, but also took care of me while I was recovering from chemo. No matter how old I am, I want my mom when I am sick and I am so glad she could be with me. And my dad was here too. Every time. I had no idea he cared that much. Thank you Mom and Dad!

- My family and friends who have stuck with me, faithfully reading and commenting on my blog, calling me, sending me emails and dinners (SO many dinners! Thank you family, friends, neighbors and co-workers!) and cards and flowers and so much more. All the visits. All the phone calls. All the times you have put aside whatever is going on in your life in order to listen to me rant and rave and cry and whine and freak out. I thank you. I am now officially going on record to say "it isn't all about me anymore! I welcome the opportunity to hear about YOU now!"

I'm also thankful for the grace my children have acquired during this experience. Somehow, somewhere, I know it will serve them well later in life.

And for the FBF. One of the best things, if not THE best thing to come out of having cancer. I am thankful for all you bring to my life. This is only the first of many Thanksgivings to come.

Ramblings...

2007-11-09T13:39:00.001-08:00

Here's today's hair picture. I'm about 2 1/2 months post-chemo. Slowly but surely it's filling in. I believe a milestone was reached last weekend when I was told I officially woke up with bedhead. Woohoo! Never thought I would be so happy to hear that one. Eyelashes are nearly at full length and eyebrows are well on their way.

A week post-radiation and I'm still dealing with peeling and the occasional stabbing pain but geez louise it is NOTHING in comparison to where I've been. The ever-present fatigue rears its head when I try to do more than a few activities in a day but I will continue to improve.

I met with the doc on Monday to discuss hormone therapy and port removal. The latter is scheduled for November 30, under general anesthesia (yeah!), the former to start December 1. I'll take Tamoxifen for 5 years as a daily pill. I might at some point take some other drugs but not to start with. Main side effect is expected to be MORE HOT FLASHES! Damn.

My anxiety over picking up the pieces of my old life was lifted somewhat when work gave me the official word as to their expectations for my coming back. Helps to have a plan in place. I hope to start back slowly, maybe even next week. For sure the week after. I'm not sure what I can handle, frankly, but I won't know until I try. One step at a time.

And finally, I want to thank the FBF* for being such a rock during my latest round of freak outs. Every time I have a fear, an insecurity, an anxiety attack or am just plain bitchy this man calls me out, addresses it, talks me down off the skinny branch and reminds me that not only does he love me, but he's with me for the long haul. I am so blessed. It continues to astound me that the Universe delivered the man of my dreams during cancer treatment, but It did. Makes me kind of wonder what's next...

*FBF = Fabulous Boy Friend

What made me laugh today

2007-11-06T15:08:00.000-08:00

Sometimes someone sends you a weblink and it's kinda, sorta funny. Or gross, or stupid or whatever. But this, compliments of my deah friend Brenda from Mahblehead, is the sh*t. Put your beverages down people. I don't want to be responsible for anyone spewing Diet Coke out their nose.

15 Minute Lunch: Strap in, shut up and hold on. We're going back.

Johnny Virgil, how is it possible I did not know of the existence of your blog? Your writing is EXACTLY what this post-cancer treatment chick needs!

All Done

2007-11-02T15:45:00.001-07:00

I'm finished with cancer treatment.

Done.

Completely.

I did it!

I'm sure there will be a lot more to say about it when I've completely digested this big finish.

Fun to be me

2007-10-31T08:53:00.000-07:00

I've heard from more than a few people that I'm behind in my blogging and they want to know what's going on with me.

In a word: Depression.

Maybe two words: Depression and Anxiety.

It's hard to write when I'm grumpy and bummed out. I want to lay on the couch and binge on sugar and hide from the world.

You might think it odd that facing the end of treatment can bring on these feelings, but there they are. Very typical end-of-treatment feelings. I've thought about it a lot, trying to get my mind around the reasons why I'm not (at least metaphorically) jumping up and down, bouncing off the walls, absolutely ecstatic to be nearly finished. The main thing that comes to mind? I'm scared shitless. I've had this routine, unpleasant though it might be, and guidance from doctors as to what to do and how to do it. Now I'm going to be on my own. No one will be watching (what if the cancer comes back?) and besides that, I have to somehow pick up the pieces of the life that imploded last April. I have to put them back together but they don't fit. Everything is different. I'm having some cognitive impairment (chemo brain) issues that concern me. My energy level is unpredictable and I have a huge amount of fear that it will never return to normal. I'm a moody bitch more often than I'd like to admit. Oh it's fun to be me right now.

Radiation officially finishes this Friday. On Monday I'll meet with my chemo doc to talk about hormone therapy. I know to expect the side effects from radiation to kick my butt for another couple of weeks and then I should start to see gradual improvement. I'll be slowly starting back to work (which is a very daunting thought on so many levels.) Meal delivery will stop. Hair is growing. I would imagine most people think I should be back to living at 100% very soon. Right now it all seems quite insurmountable.

I'm flailing, folks. I'm not good at just letting things fall into place. I want to know what my post-cancer treatment life looks like RIGHT NOW. I want to know that I'll be able to cope with the demands of this new, real life. I'm scared that I won't be able to keep up. Yes, these are normal end-of-treatment feelings, but knowing that doesn't make it any easier: I'm still depressed and anxious because of these feelings. I'm still afraid cancer's going to come back when no one's paying attention. Is it any wonder all I want to do is lay on the couch, cover my head and eat cookies in the dark?

Hair Today!

2007-10-19T16:58:00.001-07:00

Here I am today. Can you see all the new hair? Can you tell that soon it will actually cover my scalp? Yippee! It's very grey on the sides, but brown is coming in on top. It is all still really soft, like baby hair.

In other hair news, my eyebrows have sprouted in a BIG way. If I can manage to live with woolly caterpillars above my eyes for another week or two I might actually have enough brows to warrant getting them waxed. I'd forgotten how thick my eyebrows are naturally. Wow. Eyelashes are coming back too, but they are still quite short.

According to my Radiation Doc, next week should be the peak of my fatigue, and then after a couple more weeks I'll start to improve. I'm really looking forward to the improve part. To say I'm tired of being tired would be a huge understatement.

I have 10 zaps left. I'm blistering and itchy and have about a zillion new freckles on my chest, but it isn't anything I can't cope with, especially with all the support I have. I just have to keep remembering, as I have had to do all the way through this, that it is temporary. Just like my hair loss was!

Girl's Night Out

2007-10-19T16:30:00.000-07:00

It has taken me a few days to get my mind around my retreat experience at Harmony Hill. What a beautiful place. I met some incredible women. I came home relaxed, with a renewed focus on healthy eating, strategies for coping with stress, and a vision of healing that I cannot yet articulate. There was yoga, breathing work, visualizations, meditation, labyrinth walking, story sharing, laughter and tears. What a gift to be a part of this experience.

Yet, with all that said, what I think I might remember more than anything else is Monday night. Was it Yvette or was it Susan who said "I hear there's a casino close by, and we were thinking about walking to it." I think it took me all of 2 seconds to offer to drive, and within a minute we were in the car, zipping down the highway, laughing our asses off and feeling a lot like we were skipping school! What a great way to spend the evening. Yeah, so I lost $40. It was worth it. Yvette and Susan, you were a highlight, and I would happily lose money with you any time!

Retreat

2007-10-14T10:02:00.000-07:00

Today I pack my bags, pick up my friend Amanda, a fellow PDX BC survivor, and head north for a 3 day breast cancer retreat. With the limited energy I have right now I don't have big expectations. I am most excited that the retreat center is located on Hood Canal, and that I'll (hopefully) get to spend some time on the beach staring at the water. It's been so long.

I was told there was an Art Yurt, and to bring some supplies but packing art supplies sounds like too much work. I was also told to bring my journal. Journal? I think this is it. So I guess the laptop might have to make the trip as well.

I'm so tired. Seriously fatigued. I can only hope this is worth the effort.

Follicle Watch 2007

2007-10-06T11:29:00.001-07:00

As of today, 6ish weeks after my last chemo, here's the head watch. Hairs a'growing all over! Lots of grey...

Of note, the first use of tweezers (and a razor) in months and months. Because of course the hair couldn't just grow back where I want it.

These eyebrows are completely drawn in. I have maybe 10 eyebrow hairs on either side. New eyelashes are growing back, finally, but are still too short for mascara. Soon though!

Also as of today, only 18 radiation treatments left. Nearly half way there!

One Year Ago Today...

2007-10-02T19:43:00.001-07:00

...I was in Amsterdam, drinking wine and eating tapas in an old apartment overlooking a canal, with my sister Katie and her friends. We were anticipating going to Spain in a few days, which we did. It was lovely.

One year ago today I was healthy and strong and could spend an entire day walking all over the city.

One year ago today we were planning this year's trip. To Italy. Or Egypt. Or South Africa. I would have been there now, had nothing changed.

One year ago today I had no inkling of what my life would look like today. None of us do. Ever.

I miss you Sissy. Sometimes Amsterdam is just too damn far away.

Next year.

Back to Couch World

2007-10-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

I've been reunited with my former companion Fatigue.

Sucks.

I'd hoped that radiation fatigue would somehow be less, um, fatiguing than chemo fatigue.

Nope. Fatigue is fatigue. Tired muscles. Shortness of breath. Weakness. Little appetite. Exhaustion that has nothing to do with sleep. I did not take this return very gracefully. It pissed me off, actually. I DON'T want to go back into the hole. I was just clawing my way out!!!

Take a deep breath... go back to what I know: Re-enter Couch World. Bring on the books. Laptop. Telephone. Friends. Family. Dog. Lay down. Stay down. I know how to do this one. I spent most of the summer right here.

The difference this time? One other item to add to the mix: Fabulous Boy Friend, aka FBF.

He makes Couch World a different kind of place: full of love, hilarity, comfort and understanding. He puts himself right smack dab between me and fatigue, elbowing it to the side and reminding me that there is much more to life than this short time spent feeling crappy. He reminds me I'm not doing it alone.

Best of all? He makes me laugh. Gut splitting, pee your pants, wine out your nose, laugh 'till you cry laughter. And that's something we here at Couch World can't ever get enough of.

Race for the Cure

2007-09-24T14:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I participated in Portland's gigantic Susan B. Komen Race for the Cure. My team raised over $2,800 in support of this amazing organization. Donations are accepted through October, so if you would still like to give you can do so here.

My incredible parents, my children, a girlfriend and her son all walked with me on the short 1 mile course. I had team mates who ran the 5K, walked the 5K, and some who slept in for the cure. I had incredibly generous donations from family, friends, co-workers and even strangers. I so appreciate everyone's support, no matter how big or small.

I think I'm still too close to this whole breast cancer thing to be all happy about the mega-show of pink that this race brings out. I hate that so many people's lives have been touched by breast cancer. Hate that this organization even has to exist. But it does. And it does amazing work. I know without the Komen foundation I would not have the quality of care I do have. Maybe next year I can be a little more excited about the whole thing. Maybe I'll even wear a feather boa with my pink survivor shirt. And a tiara with my pink baseball hat.

Everything you've always wanted to know...

2007-09-20T18:18:00.001-07:00

... about radiation:

I get it 5 days a week. For 6 weeks. 33 treatments in all.

I've done 4.

Most of the time is spent driving to the hospital and waiting to be called. Once they call me I put on a gown, lock up my stuff, and make my way down the hall to a room with a very big machine. I lay on a narrow, hard table. At least 2 and sometimes 3 technicians work on arranging me in exactly the right position. Once I'm in place the actual getting of the radiation is very fast. I'm zapped for 6 seconds in 2 places.

The doc tells me that my skin will tan, but hopefully not burn, blister, itch or peel. She also tells me I'll be really tired in a couple of weeks. Joy. I have been reveling in feeling a little better lately so the last thing I want is to revisit fatigue world. Oh well. When it does I'll give in to it, but for the moment I am thrilled to feel a tiny bit better every day.

Baby Steps

2007-09-16T20:52:00.001-07:00

This has been a big week filled with good things:

- Feeling healthy enough to go back to work, albeit for short days (rule of thumb is to go home when I have to lay my head down on my desk.)

- My hair is continuing to come in quickly and some of it is even brown instead of albino.

- Standing up for 3 hours at a neighborhood party and having mostly great conversation that mostly wasn't about cancer.

- Drinking a glass or two of wine (see party, above) and having it taste good.

- Attending support group with my children and both of them wishing that it was more often than once a month.

- My kids and I being asked to dinner by a neighborhood mom and feeling good enough to go!

- And the very best happening of the week? Officially getting a boyfriend. He's fabulous.

Surprise!

2007-09-14T16:24:00.000-07:00

Last Monday my office had an all-day wine tasting event, riding around on a fancy-pants VIP bus visiting several wineries. I'd hoped to attend but it was obvious to me on Sunday that I was still much too fatigued to participate so I sent my regrets and settled in on Monday for another day of couch lounging and recovery. Imagine my surprise when I received a call from the Big Boss inquiring as to my ability to meet the group for lunch. And, oh yes, they would send a car and driver for me.

This was something I could do! The car and driver turned out to be a huge white stretch limo and didn't I feel like the princess dozing in the back during the 45 minute drive to lunch. It was fabulous!

It was so nice to see everyone from work after having been gone for so long. We had a lovely lunch and while they re-boarded their bus and headed off for yet another winery, I was driven home.

What a lovely surprise the day turned out to be.

Last Friday

2007-09-10T09:58:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I had an appointment to get set up with Radiation. It involved laying on a table, on a bag filled with tiny pellets, and being minutely adjusted to get my position juuuuuust right. It took forever and my arms were practically stuck from being held over my head for so long! My radiation tattoos were done before chemo, and they were able to still use them which was a relief. I really didn't want to end up with 6 blue dots. Three are enough.

After I was perfectly adjusted I was sent into the CT machine a few times. CT machines freak me out a little.

For some reason the entire set up process made me incredibly emotional. I think it's that I am just starting to claw my way out of the "feeling like crap" abyss that the last couple chemos sent me into. I don't want to go back. I don't want more procedures. I don't want radiation fatigue. Or burning. Or heart and lung damage. Or sore ribs. I just want to keep on feeling better every day and I'd like to not go back to the hospital. Like ever again.

Good news is that for most people who have done chemo, radiation is a cakewalk. Let's hope. I start on Monday, the 17th, and will go 5 days a week for 6 weeks.

Also last Friday, I had a date. We had another on Saturday. And on Sunday. Yep, me. The bald girl. We'd been talking for a long time, and had met briefly, but this was our first opportunity to spend serious time together. So now I find myself in the early stages of a relationship. Astounding. There were a lot of things I expected to have happen during cancer treatment but this was not one of them.

Life is good.

Summer is Over

2007-09-05T08:54:00.001-07:00

Here we are. First day of school. 5th and 7th grade.

These are a couple of resilient kids who are learning more about patience than most. Having a mom who spends nearly every waking moment laying down is tough on kids. Heck, having a mom who's bald is tough. The last thing any kid wants is to be different...

We had a few rough patches this summer but we've come through it. I'm proud of them. I think we're all glad the summer is over. It's been a tough one.

Kids, I love you. You are truly amazing!

Accepting the Gifts

2007-09-02T16:39:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of people who go on and on about how cancer has been such a great gift to their lives. They've learned all kinds of lessons and gone on to great things. That's super duper, and maybe I'll get to that place, given time and perspective, but right now, mostly, that just sounds like a load of crap.

In my little world, cancer treatment has been and continues to be a major pain in the ass. Final chemo recovery is painfully slow. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I am fatigued by the act of walking through the house and to top it off I don't think I have enough eyelashes to put mascara on anymore. Talk about humbling. As I've said many times before, it is temporary, I KNOW that, but DAMN it does try my patience every single day. Especially when my fatigue gets in the way of being mom.

Except the thing is, as much as I don't want it to be, this ordeal has given me gifts. I had no idea I was so loved. So supported. I think I have felt, well, for lack of a better term in my tired brain: invisible to the world for quite a long time, and cancer treatment has a way of removing that. Quite literally, I don't blend in anymore and I am set apart. But all through this, from people I've known forever to some I've not even met, there have been cards, emails, flowers, offers of help, lucky charms, art, meals, beach stays, visits and more. Such support. I had no idea so many people cared. I understand the lesson. I embrace the love and support (and I have to. God told me so.) And I accept the gifts.

Adventures in Couch World

2007-08-28T12:09:00.001-07:00

Day six apres last chemo and I am managing about 10 minutes upright before I get light-headed. Here's the view from Couch World. What you can't see is my giant coffee table holding everything I might ever need: water, chapstick, telephones, laptop, books, fan, newspapers, etc. I might as well be in a studio apartment for having my entire life confined to this tiny corner of the living room!

My parents and my friend Claudia left this morning and the house is very quiet but I am by no means alone.

I have Shandy the Wonder Dog.

When no one else is here she lays down next to my couch. She stays there for hours. She doesn't say a word but I sure do feel the love. She has been such a constant through all this. Everybody going through cancer treatment should have at least one Wonder Dog.

And God gave me a big ol' hola this morning. Said "Told you I'd get you through this. You're almost done. And I have more surprises in store for you. Good ones." So there's that.

Always something to ponder in Couch World. What's next? Stay tuned.

Final Recuperation

2007-08-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

This is my last chemo recovery! Yeah!

It's slow. Five days out and there's still an amazing amount of bone and joint pain. I was very weak to start with so I'm not upright much, or for long, but from here on out it is just recovery recovery recovery. No more chemical poisoning.

Yes I know I still have radiation, and I know it won't be all easy, but it will be easier than this.

This is my last climb out of the chemo abyss. And I am happy about that.

As promised

2007-08-24T11:28:00.001-07:00

As promised, a picture showing that indeed, my head is sprouting hair again! It's white and ultra-fine. Other women have told me this is common, it may even turn out to be temporarily grey for awhile, but will then probably become brown, and even curly. Well it was brown and curly before, sort of, so that wouldn't be too big a change.

Anyway, it's a sign of life from above. And it will be an ongoing adventure.

This picture also shows how thin and pale my brows have become (thank GOD for eyebrow pencil, not used here though) and maybe you can see that I have gaps in my eyelashes, maybe not. I had a lot to start with, so that probably helps.

I'm all ramped up on steroids today (see my puffy eyes?) I've been doing battle with my insurance company and really, if a person is going to have to do that, being on steroids helps!

I did it!

2007-08-23T23:43:00.000-07:00

I'm officially now 2/3 of the way finished with cancer treatment. This calls for a big old woohoo! I made it through scary, icky chemotherapy and I will NEVER have to sit in a chemo recliner again! Knock wood. Thank you so much everybody, for the lovely emails and comments today. Thank you Katie, for sending so many good vibes my way. It was a wonderful send off to chemo to have an email box full of good wishes. Also big thanks to Claudia, for being here, and to my parents, as always, for being with me through every never ending chemo appointment.

I'm happily clutching a prescription for stronger pain meds, and I've decided that if Darvocet doesn't kick my bone and joint paint I'll keep calling the oncologist's nurse until something does. If I'm going to stay home and be in recovery mode I might as well be on good drugs. It's going to be a couple of weeks of hell, but give me three weeks and I just bet I'll feel tons better.

Just in time to start radiation.

That's right. Next up, starting mid-September, getting burnt 5 days a week for 6 weeks. The first 3 weeks will be a relative cakewalk, the last 3 I'll most like be quite fatigued, but I know what that's about. And my port can't come out until a month after radiation, so that's that.

Oh and I have very blond peach fuzz on my head. It's funny and reminds me of my son's hair when he was a baby. It might fall out, but it might not. Eyebrows and eyelashes are still thinning by the day. Maybe tomorrow I'll post a picture of the follicular activity.

I can't believe I did it! I'm done with chemo! Yeah!

Last One

2007-08-22T22:55:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I have my very last chemo.

I dread it.

The last one was so hard on me. I still ache all over. I'm weak and fatigued, plagued by hot flashes, insomnia, numb feet and tingling hands. I can't go to work. I can't walk the dog. I'm beaten down. It's been 2 weeks since my last chemo and I still feel like shit.

How much farther down I can go? How much worse can I feel? Will I even be able to walk in a week?

I so do not want to do this.

But I will. One last time.

Have I mentioned how much I hate cancer treatment?

Gratitude for Food

2007-08-20T21:21:00.000-07:00

Ever since my surgery in April, other people have been providing food for my family. My neighbor Pam, who happens to have a fabulous personal chef service, created a "bring meals to LeeAnne's family" calendar and it has been just about the very best thing ever. Neighbors, friends, co-workers, even a few people I hardly know have taken time out of their schedules to feed us.

One of my favorite things about these meal deliveries is that sometimes I can talk the deliverer into sitting down and having a little visit. There have been nights when the kids are at their dad's house, and I've not gone to work and perhaps haven't talked to anyone all day. I'm like a 95 year old shut-in getting her Meals on Wheels on those days! Reality is I'm not alone all that much, but I have had days that have felt that way. God bless these patient people who will sit with me a little while and listen to me whine about my aches and pains! Bless them even more that they don't freak out when I burst into tears, as I've done on SO many occasions. Thanks for dinner and WAH! I've also had the opportunity to talk to some neighbors that I've rarely spoken to over the years. The meal deliveries have created a little bit of community building, and that is a very cool thing.

And I can't help but feel like be it home cooked, take out, or pizza delivery, the fact that people care enough to provide for us makes the food all that much better. More nutritious somehow. Thank you everyone, and I look forward to the time that I am healthy enough to pay it forward.

Okay but

2007-08-13T20:54:00.001-07:00

OW!

Bone pain BAD! Joint pain BAD! I hurt EVERYWHERE!

It makes me want to spew profanities and throw things. However, I will continue to concentrate on the fact that this is temporary. I will. In a week or so I will be able to stop taking pain pills and I will feel better. In time to do this again, but FOR THE LAST TIME!

The beach was lovely. Beautiful house, comfy couches, great view. I tried really hard not to be frustrated by my inability to get out and enjoy. Good enough for now to lay there and read and enjoy my parents' company.

Off to take more ibuprofen.

Sailing Through

2007-08-09T20:15:00.000-07:00

Today I completed Taxol #3, chemo number 7 - Only One More Left! Hurray! This infusion went well. I was able to get my Benedryl dose cut in half and therefore avoided the twitchy legs that have plagued my last 2 infusions and made them very uncomfortable. In 2 weeks I have my LAST chemo people! Champagne for all!

The infusion room's wifi is spotty but worked well enough today for me to sign up for Race for the Cure. I created "Team Lulu" and anyone who wishes to is welcome to donate or even join. You don't have to even show up - there's an option called "Sleep in for the Cure!" You can find my race page here.

After my Neulasta shot tomorrow evening I'm off to the beach with my parents to recuperate. The change of scenery works wonders.

I need to give kudos to M, my ex-husband, for taking our kids to the Families with Cancer support group tonight while I was at chemo. Not something every ex would do, and I really appreciate being able to count on him to operate with the kids' best interests in mind. They loved it, and brought me this wonderful poster they made tonight.

And a shout out to my friend John who gave me a little kick in the butt today by reminding me that I am truly sailing through chemo. Many people don't. Thanks John. I needed to hear that.

And Now, a Break...

2007-08-03T21:10:00.000-07:00

...from our regularly scheduled programming.

It's time for this blog to lighten up a little bit. I thought I would share a little something that has made me happy for nearly 20 years now:

If you're using Firefox, you'll need to click here for a YouTube version. 'Cuz I don't want to leave ANYONE out:

Bad Medicine

Oh the big hair and flashing smile. The driving beat and meaningless lyrics. This was the video that introduced me to the loveliness that is Jon Bon Jovi. The music is fine and all, but DAMN, the man does know how to smile.

Doesn't that somehow make everything better?

Don't Stare

2007-08-01T19:57:00.000-07:00

Today at the gas station the attendant said "nice hair do, you do that yourself?" "Chemo, I said." And followed that up with "cancer treatment" by way of further explanation as English was not his first language. "What kind of cancer?" he asked. "Breast cancer," I replied.

And I kid you not, his eyes went down to my chest and he started tracing circles with his fingers on his own boy-breasts as he stared at mine. Obviously trying to figure out, in a not particularly stealthy fashion, exactly the state of my post-cancerous breast(s).

Um, ick. In fact I would go so far as to say it was really creepy.

Two

2007-07-30T18:05:00.000-07:00

Only 2 chemos left.

Spending a few days recovering at the beach was wonderful. Thank you Claudia for generously letting the 'rents and I use your house! I walked a bit, ate well, and slept better than I have in some time.

Today my body HURTS. That's HURTS with capital mo-fo-ing letters.

But I only have 2 chemos left.

In Memoriam: Chelsea Rae

2007-07-25T19:19:00.000-07:00

Today, a beautiful girl I've never met died of osteosarcoma. She was 14. She was my friend Barb's niece.

Osteosarcoma is a bone cancer most often found in teens and young adults. Chelsea had leg pains, and by the time she was diagnosed in early February, it had already metastisized to other locations in her body. Chemotherapy didn't work, and was discontinued mid-May.

My heart aches for her parents and little sister, for her friends, her relatives and for all who knew her. I wish them grace during the difficult road ahead. Her family are devout Christians, and take comfort in their faith that their dear one is with God.

Cancer is insane.

Perspective

2007-07-21T10:17:00.000-07:00

I've been wallowing in self-pity, I'll admit it. Yesterday was a crap day. One of those days where every time I turn around I start crying because I'm so sick of this cancer shit, I'm sick of being sick of it. I'm worn out on every level. I miss my "regular" life so much. So last night I decide to do something revolutionary:

Try to sleep without any sort of medication.

Understand that I have had very few good night's (I'm too tired to even know if that apostrophe is appropriate. Let me know, will ya?) sleep since this entire cancer thing started way back in April. I wake up every hour or two, usually sweating my head off which is as pleasant as it sounds. The bizarre sleep patterns have in no way helped my ever present fatigue and Ativan, an anti-anxiety/anti-nausea drug which has been my nightly ritual since chemo started, doesn't seem to do a thing for me anymore. So I called the doc and got a prescription for Ambien, which I then radically decided not to take.

Did I sleep well without anything?

Um, no. I woke up nearly every hour. At 5:00 a.m., rather despondent, I got up, made coffee, and started surfing the web. In my inbox, was a brand new issue of Making Room, an online magazine that included a feature on designer's postcards of post-Katrina New Orleans. Which got me to thinking:

I have so much to be thankful for. So much that WILL come back after this treatment crap is finished. This is a glitch. Okay, it's turning out to be a much bigger glitch than I had first imagined, but it IS a glitch, nevertheless. Sort of a tropical storm with no levees breaking. Everything I know has NOT been lost. I'm not transplanted into another town, never to go back to the culture I've known my entire life. I haven't lost all my worldly goods, or people I love.

THIS IS TEMPORARY!

Whew. this is some much-needed perspective. I could even get all Pollyanna and call it a gift of insomnia, this new perspective, although I'm pretty certain that had I looked at Making Room at 10 a.m., instead of 5, on 8 hours of sleep, I would have come to the same conclusions.

Lesson learned: take the Ambien. And remember: this too shall pass.

A Dream...

2007-07-20T20:20:00.001-07:00

That cancer never happened.

That tomorrow morning I throw our Boogie Boards in the back of the Pathfinder, load up Shandy the Wonder Dog, the kids, a cooler, and our wetsuits and head to Indian Beach for a day in the surf.

That we stop on the way home for bread bowls of chowder at Camp 18.

That my hair has that awesome after-surf curl. And I have an Oregon surfer's tan: from the neck up.

That I feel great.

Oh wait, that was last summer.

Better

2007-07-17T20:48:00.001-07:00

There's a really predictable pattern here: chemo makes me feel crappy, a few days go by and then I feel better. Doesn't really make for the most interesting blogging...

But I do. Feel better. After spending Saturday and Sunday completely couch-bound, I was able to go to work for a bit on Monday. It's amazing how good it feels to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours. Even if I don't feel incredibly great.

I think Taxol is a bit easier, so far anyway, than A/C. Yes I have bone and joint pain and walked around all day today like either a little old lady with arthritis, or a weekend warrior very sore from extreme sports, but my stomach is much happier overall, and my brain is much clearer than it would be if I had to take all the anti-nausea drugs. I feel less like I will burst into tears at any second, and less like I've been kicked in the gut by a very big horse than I did with A/C.

I just keep thinking "only 3 more!" I'm absolutely thrilled. Plus I think next chemo recovery will take place at the beach, and as simple as that sounds I'm happy as heck at the thought of getting out of town for a few days. Last time I was anywhere was my vacation in May! I think I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Dare I imagine a chemo-free life?

The Descent

2007-07-14T09:43:00.000-07:00

Of COURSE it was too good to be true.

Yesterday I felt fantastic, all thanks to the steroids still in my system from Thursday's chemo. I corralled my 'rents and indulged in a day-long retail fest up and down NW 23rd and even into the Pearl. Accomplished all my pent-up errands and SO enjoyed being out in the world. PLUS came home to an early muy fabuloso b-day present box (thank you Sissy!), my Neulasta shot was administered excellently and didn't hurt, AND TLC ran a marathon of "What Not To Wear" last night. All the makings of a happy Friday.

Then late last night I started to feel the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands burning. My body is aching this morning, but not badly enough to medicate, yet. Intestinal rumblings shall not be detailed here. And my old friend fatigue reared its head after the simple act of walking up my backyard steps. Son of a beeeeeotch I'd hoped (silly, yes I know) that I could somehow avoid that part.

So here I am. Back on the couch with my books and my laptop; my phone, my dog and my mom are all close by. Big question is how long is it going to last this time?

Chemo No. 5

2007-07-12T20:09:00.000-07:00

Today I had my first round of Taxol. I'll have 3 more, once every 2 weeks, and then I'll be DONE with chemo!

The issue with Taxol is that the substance they deliver it in is highly allergic. In order to avoid an allergic reaction it's common practice to give the patient high doses of Benadryl, along with Decadron (steroids) and Zantac to soothe the stomach. I also got Zofran (an anti-nausea, but much less than with the A/C: only 1 pill.) I was really out of it from all Benadryl but really wired from the Decadron at the same time. NOT a pleasant combination when you are basically strapped to a chemo recliner! I was told to take a half an Ativan to remedy the Tired/Wired issue so I did that when I got home and it helped.

The entire process was long, as the first bit of Taxol is delivered very slowly to be sure it's tolerable. I went in shortly after 1:00 and didn't leave until nearly 6:00! My stomach feels SO full tonight with all the IV fluids plus all the water I drank (including an entire HUGE bottle of Pellegrino which is tasting better than anything lately.)

My nurse said that Saturday and Sunday will probably be couch days for me. I'll let you know. Tonight, besides being full and a little bit woozy from Benadryl I feel pretty good. I played Scrabble with my Mom but out of respect for her I won't divulge who won...

A little side note:

I love getting comments on my blog. When my treatments tie me to the couch, and my laptop is a bigger part of my life than I'd like to admit, you have no idea how uplifting a comment can be. I so appreciate my friends who take the time to comment just about every time I post something. I also really appreciate hearing from people I've not met, whether you just like my writing or you are also facing cancer or know someone who is. Don't hesitate to write me. I'll even answer you back if you let me know how. Cancer is scary but none of us have to be alone in the fight.

Getting Out

2007-07-06T21:53:00.001-07:00

It finally happened.

I got off the couch and out of the house!

Actually, yesterday was the first day since Saturday I felt like I could move; like the air wasn't oatmeal that I had to swim through. The overwhelming waves of dizziness and weakness just stopped, and I worked nearly a full day. Then capped it by taking the kids out to pizza and following that with a pretty decent walk. Yeah! Fatigue lifted! Fricking FINALLY. This was by far the toughest chemo round I've had. I just don't cope well emotionally with day after day after day enforced laying down. I even called the oncology social worker, that's how bad it was.

Today I finally got to spend a few hours doing what I had hoped to do on the 4th and was too weak to do: I went to Blues Fest! Annie and JJ were mollified with all the food and drink they wanted; I was just happy to be there. I didn't care who was playing, I was OFF the couch, out in the world, watching people and really, that was good enough.

A few notes on the people watching: ponytails on men? Really, why are we still doing this? Aging hippies in general: not so pretty. Long grey hair just doesn't look all that good. On anyone. Men in tank tops? Again, not a good idea. And what is it with the following boomer man uniform: cargo shorts, vaguely Hawaiian shirt circa 1995, baseball hat and facial hair. Is this a Portland thing? An "I like blues music" thing? I don't get it. Hawaiian shirts are for Hawaii. Period. And guys? Just because Magnum P.I. sported the 'stache back in the 70's and you did to, doesn't mean you should STILL be doing it. And a beard? C'mon. That's just lazy. As for the ladies: just because they MAKE short shorts in your size doesn't mean you should be wearing them. Especially when they are ultra high-waisted. And rayon batik went out a LONG time ago. Get it out of your wardrobe! And everybody? Tie dye tee shirts: Stop it.

God I love Blues Fest.

That's enough snarky from me for one post. I'm so happy to feel kind of okay again and the best part is I get to get out of the house again tomorrow. Blues Fest runs through the weekend!! Where's my tie dye?

Fatigue

2007-07-02T20:48:00.000-07:00

When you look at a list of possible side-effects resulting from chemotherapy, fatigue is always there. But I had no idea at all what that really meant. Being more tired than normal? I have always been able to push myself, to keep on going, to power through things but this fatigue thing has brought me to my knees and truly, I suspect it may get worse before it gets better.

At the oddest times I find myself absolutely floored by the overwhelming urge to lay down. It's like a wave overcomes me and I MUST SIT NOW. Putting on mascara this morning I had to go sit on the couch because my arm could not do what I needed it to do! I sit down and then I want to nap. I wake up woozy and want to nap some more. It's pathetic. Not only that, it's boring, isolating, lonely and not a little depressing. The weather is beautiful outside and I am pretty much strapped to the couch. Whine whine whine.

This is the very real and not imagined result of being poisoned by chemo. Every single muscle in my body is exhausted by the fight. I told the doctor I was having a heck of a time with blurry vision and he said it was due to my eye muscles being fatigued by the chemo. That's right, even my eye muscles. I had no idea it would affect every single muscle in my body.

The very best thing I can do? Moderate exercise. Ha! Tonight I managed a slow walk down the street and back up again. That's it for exercise. I am eating really well, and that does help. Mostly, though, I suspect I just have to live with it and be patient with myself and know that this will pass eventually. I'm really tired of it already.

What Chemo Looks Like

2007-06-29T11:23:00.001-07:00

Ah, here they are. The supportive parents. This is what I happily see every round of chemo. Blog World, meet Mimi and Bill. World's best parents. They leave their very full life to drive 3 hours every two weeks to stay with me for 4 days to be sure all goes well. And it does.

This round went well. Last night I just felt really FULL. Of food, water, oral anti-nausea drugs and IV after IV of chemo drugs. Today I feel remarkably well, but I know after a couple of days go by I won't be able to remember the details of today... or tomorrow... or the next day.

I am now officially half way done with chemo, and completely done with the Adriamycin/Cytoxan blend. Next time it will be Taxol, with an entirely different set of side effects and many more steroids and much Benadryl in order to tolerate it.

Here's what my parents see:

You can tell I've had my anti-nausea drugs because my eyes look a little glassy. You can also see what it looks like when they access my port, down on my chest. The little tube coming out allows the nurse to both draw blood AND deliver all my IV drugs. Pretty amazing. I have a tube of lidocaine cream that I use to numb the port site up about an hour before my appointment. I always grimace when they insert the needle, but honestly, I never feel a thing!

Needles!

2007-06-29T11:08:00.001-07:00

I truly think that acupuncture has made a difference in how I feel between chemo treatments. Props to my neighbor Marcia at Different Drummer Acupuncture for a job well done!

For those of you who haven't had acupuncture before, rest assured that I am one of the all-time biggest needle woosies in the world. These needles are teeny tiny, and at most hurt just for a second or two. Once they're in, you can't feel anything but energy. I often fall asleep! What I know for sure is that my stomach feels better, food moves through my system better, and that I need fewer drugs to combat my side effects.

This picture was the first time I had needles in my face (for my sinuses and eyes, which have been bothering me). My usual treatment does involve needles in my scalp (helps with clarity) but also in my stomach and legs/feet for things like liver, kidneys and spleen. Cool, huh?

It's nice that there is something involving needles that turns out to be a really good thing.

Letting it Out

2007-06-25T21:21:00.000-07:00

Tonight was a first.

Walking up the hill from the park at about 8:30 tonight, after working nearly a full day, taking my son to drum lessons and then spending an hour sitting at the pool while the kids had a swim, I started crying.

Why?

I can't keep up.

I am probably harder on myself than anyone could ever be. I know I'm in cancer treatment. I know to expect fatigue, nausea, etc. Yet when it hits it pisses me off. I don't have time to feel like crap. I'm a mom for God's sake, and I do NOT want this treatment to impact my ability to act like a mom. Especially in the summer.

The thing is, the kids are so good. "Go ahead and cry Mom," JJ said on the way home from the park. "Go ahead and get it out." Annie held my hand and rubbed my arm and said "it's okay" over and over. Damn it. My children shouldn't have to be dealing with this. They should be eating popsicles, riding bikes and shooting hoops until it's too dark to see. They should have a mom who can stay up until it's dark out so that I can yell at them to come inside. Right now they are downstairs watching tv and I know I won't even have to ask them to be in bed by 10:00. They'll do it. I am the one in bed early, Ativan swallowed, ready for unconsciousness. I'm worn out.

Tomorrow I'll do it all again. This is going to be a long summer.

Little Pleasures

2007-06-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's the little things in life. Sitting in the shade in my backyard on an 85 degree day: reading a good book, drinking sweet iced tea (okay, so it did give me heartburn later, but at that moment it was perfect) and watching the sun light up a sprinkler.

And then there is this:

Planet Unicorn

I have nothing else to say. Except maybe Heyyyyyy!

Lost Daze

2007-06-18T18:30:00.000-07:00

One of my friends recently commented that I don't write when I'm not feeling good. I think she meant that I don't write right after chemo. She looks for updates to how I'm feeling and they aren't there. Or here. It isn't that I'm not feeling good (relatively speaking.) It's that my brain is completely and totally empty.

I swear they put a knock-out drug in the chemo mix.

I have only a vague recollection of the last several days. My parents, as usual, came to town to accompany me to my Thursday appointment. It went without a hitch. The big excitement was a REALLY good CBC, with nice, high white blood cell counts. Woohoo the thrills. Came home with an appetite although I couldn't begin to tell you what I ate.

Friday there was some gratuitous TJ Maxx shopping followed by a late afternoon Neulasta shot. I think I purchased some housewares. I'm sure some napping happened.

Saturday was the Miniature Railroads in the Garden tour (it was Father's Day weekend after all, so Dad had to have some fun) followed by a trip to Target where again, I bought a few things. Not sure what though.

Are you sensing a theme? It's a REALLY good thing my parents are around post-chemo to make sure I don't do anything more stupid than unplanned retailing. Geez, it's like being 15 again! I did manage to make my Dad a Father's Day breakfast before going horizontal and napping Sunday away (between hot flashes.)

What I do know for sure is that it is an incredible gift and comfort to have my parents here for the big anti-nausea drug fest daze that follows every chemo appointment. Everybody going through cancer treatment should be so lucky.

And today I worked almost the entire day. Not at 100% brain power but good enough. The lost daze, this time around, is just about over.

Five more chemos to go... I'm almost halfway there!

Psych

2007-06-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

I know you are all dying to know exactly what I do on chemo day:

Get the kids to school
Check work email
Clean the kitchen thoroughly
Make sure the backlog of laundry is done
Tidy up the the house
Swiffer the dog hair
Grocery shop (making sure to replenish the wine... have to keep my caregivers happy!)
Eat!
Run last minute errands

and psych up, once again, for the drug invasion that comes this afternoon.

It's the psyching up that is the real task of the day. I've said it before and I'll say it again: it goes against everything we are as living beings to voluntarily poison ourselves. It's just plain wrong.

However, I'm doing it and I'll keep on doing it because I plan on being here another 30 or 40 or 50 years. It is what one does. Soldier On. Stiff Upper Lip and all that. My eye is on the prize: August 24 - last chemo.

Say my mantra along with me if you will "I am walking through my treatments with grace and ease. I am walking through my treatments with grace and ease. I am walking through my treatments with grace and ease."

Here I go! I'm psyched!

Being Supported

2007-06-10T22:19:00.000-07:00

Tonight I took a deep breath and attended my first ever support group: the Young Survivors Coalition monthly meeting. Whew. Walking up to a new group is never easy, but this is a club I definitely belong to, and I might as well accept the myriad of resources that are offered.

Here's what I learned:

Hair grows back and life goes on.

I also realized, really for the first time, that even though the hair DOES grow back and life does go on, the breast cancer stuff doesn't go away. Not really ever, potentially. So you get to LOOK like you're normal again, and relatively quickly, but there are still things to deal with. Stuff I don't know much about yet. Tumor markers, hormone therapy, ovary removal, bone density tests. Maybe even a hysterectomy. Phew! Too much to even think about right now, while I'm in the midst of chemo.

The nice thing about tonight is that I liked these women and will look forward to getting together again next month. The woman I was sitting next to turned out to be a neighbor. We exchanged phone numbers. She has hair again, and gave me some of her scarves. So maybe I will make a new friend from this as well.

Also on the theme of being supported, after a week of company, my lovely houseguests finally departed. Katie dubbed it Estrogen Fest 2007 and it was absolutely wonderful. I loved coming home from work and having Claudia and Katie here. Especially when I had a few days of walking in the door and bursting into tears (oh how I love steroid rebound!) It was really nice to have the company. Any time ladies... 'mon back! I refuse to believe that Katie won't visit from Amsterdam for a year (sniff sniff) and I am holding Claudia's car hostage, so I KNOW she'll have to come back.

I am a lucky woman. Not everyone has so much support. I do. And it matters.

What Not To Say

2007-06-06T06:07:00.000-07:00

What is it with people feeling like they can make comments about my head? Here is the appropriate thing to say to a woman with no hair: "You look beautiful."

That's it.

Don't tell me I look like Rhoda in my funky scarf, or that I'll look butch when it grows back (like this is a goal?), or that I must be having so much fun with wigs and scarves. Yeah, right. Don't tell me "it's just hair" and it will grow back. I can say that, but you can't. Don't tell me my head is nice and round. I really didn't want to know. I truly could have gone my entire life not knowing what I look like bald. Don't tell me that I'm saving all kinds of time not having to do hair. Really? Do you have any idea how long it takes to figure out how to tie a scarf so it will stay there all day?

My poor head has been through an awful lot this last week. The buzz cut was a good thing, and I felt pretty cool rocking the #1. As it continued to fall out, and fall all over me and everything in my path, however, it had to be shaved completely and that isn't quite as much fun. To begin with, my scalp is lily white with a 5 o'clock shadow. It hurts. It's cold all the time. I have to sleep in a buff to keep my noggin warm. Getting ready for work now has an entirely new normal requiring that I choose my HEADWEAR first, and the outfit second. Wasn't expecting this!

I've probably spent close to $350 on various coverings for my head, and so far nothing I put on makes me feel like me. That's the real issue. I feel like I'm in an unending theatrical production, playing the role of Cancer Patient. How do I look like LeeAnne while I'm wearing something on my head that I never would have chosen pre-hair loss? I don't know. I'll figure it out, but in the meantime, just tell me I look good and leave it at that.

God Bless all of you who are loving me through this crankiness. I know everyone has the best of intentions but I needed to vent. Whine over. For now.

Chemo 2 and other stuff

2007-06-01T23:40:00.000-07:00

Just a quickie here - chemo 2 went just fine and I feel pretty good. Tomorrow and Sunday will be my napping days. Went for a walk today, got my Neulasta shot and had a short nap. All in all pretty good. Got some new drugs that help a lot with appetite so that will also help in the long run. I won't be so weak if I can eat well every day.

The very short hair I have left is pulling out easier and easier but I'm leaving it alone so I don't get bald spots until they're inevitable! Then I think it will be time for a full shave. I've not worn anything on my head out in public so far and I kind of really like how the buzz cut looks, all things considered! I also really like the fact that I'm so photosensitive that it only takes me 5 minutes to be tan! Really, what more can a girl ask for than happy hair and a suntan, neither of which take any time whatsoever to maintain??

Hair today, gone tomorrow

2007-05-31T06:52:00.000-07:00

My hair is gone! Last night was the great Hair Removal exercise. Surrounded by loving friends (including Claudia who flew in from NY to be a part of it), I bravely succumbed to the scissors and clippers and now feel somewhat like a monk. Or look like a monk.

I only cried a tiny bit. My hair was falling out like crazy yesterday anyway, so it was time. It was a shock to see so much ME in the mirror. No hair to cover anything up. This will take some getting used to. I like it though. And my friends were absolutely lovely. They assured me I looked beautiful, and made me feel so loved and cared for. I could not have asked for a better experience.

Annie was also here and helped throughout the process. She seemed shocked by none of it and told me I looked lovely. I think she enjoyed the "girl power" energy from my friends. JJ came home from soccer practice and announced that I looked "cool" and that it was fine for me to be this way around the house. Hopefully at some point he'll decide I'm fine this way wherever I go, as truth be told I'm not a big fan of wearing anything on my head. Especially in warm weather.

So here's the newly shorn me, in my best Namaste pose. I don't feel quite THAT zen about it, but I'll get there. Really, in life's big picture this isn't that big a deal. But I'm a woman, so it is. But it's not. Whatever.

I have chemo appointment #2 this afternoon. I believe it will be just as easy as the first one.

Defying Expectations

2007-05-28T20:42:00.001-07:00

I am surprising a lot of people lately. Friends exclaim "you're so perky!"

Well heck, why not? I feel relatively good (as a side note, don't for one minute think that I don't have chemo side effects happening, it's just that they're mostly ignorable, most of the time, especially if I am active) and I have a ton of energy. This weekend I: cleaned out half the garage, worked with my daughter to sort out all her outgrown clothes, took a huge load to Goodwill, went to the garden center and bought plants and planted a few pots, took a couple walks, drained, cleaned and refilled the hot tub, went shopping with my son, and attended a Memorial Day potluck. In other words, a pretty typical at-home long weekend. And no one expects that from me. They seem to think that cancer means I will spending the next 6 months in bed. And that's not how it is. I am mo-ti-va-ted.

Why?

Part of it is knowing that next weekend I will be in that drugged out post-chemo daze that will reduce me to taking a few walks and more than a few naps between spoonfuls of white, bland food. Boooooring. Part of it is the appreciation I have for feeling decent, having recently contrasted it with not feeling so good. And I have to believe that a great deal of this energy comes from a new-found appreciation for my wonderful life and its endless possibilities. It's sort of like God upsided me across the head with a big ol' 2x4 while asking "what were you waiting for? Get on it, girl!"

So when I feel good, and the energy is there, I am gettin' on it. No one expected that. Least of all me.

Rocking the 'Rag

2007-05-23T20:57:00.000-07:00

Well, this is what I figured. I need to get used to the hair thing. I have a week left with it and that's not a very long time.

So tonight, after yet another culinary feast provided by a loving neighbor (stay tuned for a future blog on the wonderfulness of delivered, home-cooked food), and since I was feeling pretty darn good, I decided to rock the 'rag for the first time ever on a trip to Target. I didn't know if I would be stared at or ignored or if I would feel cool or what but I needed to do it.

Guess what?

No one noticed.

Phew. They all seemed to think that I liked my headwear and wore it by choice. Huh. Go figure. Or maybe they thought "I wonder if she has cancer and the hair hanging under her bandana is really velcro'd on." Now really, when was the last time you ever doubted the authentic-ness of someone's hair? I can't say as I ever have. Which is somehow comforting to me right now. If I sport some fake hair, odds are good that No One Will Notice.

Now of course I notice that my nose looks big and brown maybe isn't my best bandana color, but beyond that, a dumb looking do-rag is a dumb looking do-rag. Fact is I'm being treated for cancer. I don't walk super fast, everything on me that can peel has, my throat feels funny and my gut feels punched but no one cares what my head has on it. Just me. And I need to get over it.

While I'm working my way up to baldness bravery I'm coping with a few sort of hair crutches in addition to the wig I debuted last week. A hat and Jennifer hair in medium brown are on their way. Whatever it takes to help me rock it, right?

A Better Day

2007-05-22T20:15:00.000-07:00

Today was better than any day so far.

Last night I ate dinner. That might not sound like much, but after days of just bites of white food, it was exciting. Pam my fabulous chef neighbor brought me excellent chicken and couscous and sauteed swiss chard and amazingly, my appetite was back just in time.

Today I stayed at work all day. I didn't think I would, but I did. I'm slow, but that's okay. I even took a little walk at lunch time. I ate 3 good meals today. Yeah!

My stomach feels really sore, like it has been through a lot, and I'm wondering if this is just how it is. I'm a little nervous about taking my Ativan because I had bizarre hallucinations within a half hour of going to sleep last night, but I'm going to try it again anyway. Maybe it was the Compazine, which I haven't taken today.

Tomorrow's going to be an even better day. I can feel it.

Day 3

2007-05-19T16:52:00.000-07:00

My friend Cindy called today to say "I keep on checking your blog for updates but I couldn't stand it one more minute! How are you doing?" So here I am, updating.

And guess what? I'm doing FINE! I walked with my mom yesterday morning for a good 20 minutes, napped in the afternoon, and went to the docs for my Neulasta shot after that. Took my beloved Ativan (but skipped the other "as needed" nausea meds) last night and slept great. It's not like I'm not on stuff - I take Emend (which apparently blocks the brain's vomit center) and Decadron (a steroid) in the morning but they've done the trick all day. The Decadron can ramp a person up a little - this morning I did laundry, took a shower, and my parents took me to the mall where we had some good walking and a bit of shopping. I napped this afternoon and it will be another early night but I feel great, considering. I have to be really careful of a fever but it was only 99 today and I can go up to 100.5 before I have to call. I wash my hands a lot so I'm being careful.

I can't eat much, and nothing that tastes like anything. A few tiny bites and I'm full. Cream of Wheat, english muffins, cottage cheese, maybe a little fruit but that's about it. It's okay... I'll have hormone therapy in a few months that will pile the pounds on so losing a bit here at the beginning is a good thing. My sense of smell is off too - everything is intense - but that's very normal.

So there you go. Nothing too exciting and I'm glad of it. Let's all hope that the next few days will be as uneventful as the first few!

One down, Seven to Go

2007-05-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

Here's what it was like yesterday:

Lots of waiting, finally get called back, meet my nurse Carol. Sit in comfy recliner (poor parents had "guest chairs") with warm blanket and pillow. Port gets "accessed" which was no biggie as I had covered it with lidocaine cream earlier in the day. The port is AMAZING! Carol had to pull 6 vials of blood out - it was quick and I felt nothing. Anyway, then I sat some more, waiting for my bloodwork to come back. With Van Morrison on the mp3 player and a good book in my hand it really didn't suck. At all. Oh and there was a volunteer masseuse so I had a nice shoulder rub.

Once the bloodwork was back I was given a bunch of pills to take (Decadron, Emend, Zofran) which are all anti-nauseas. After that it was time for the Adriamycin push. Two nurses have to confirm that I am the right person getting the right thing - the stuff comes in giant syringes marked TOXIC all over. Carol just hooked it up to my chest tube and in it went. Didn't feel a thing. After that was the Cytoxan which drips in over the course of an hour. Then a little more saline, a heperin flush and I was done. I had pounded at least 3 liters of water, maybe more, and felt decent although spacy. The whole thing was over in 4 hours.

Then it was off to fill more prescriptions. Not long after getting home I was hit with the beginnings of a migraine and REALLY nasty heartburn but managed to survive the night! I know now that I can take Zantac and Tylenol and head these things off. I had 2 other anti-nausea meds for last night as well - everything worked. No nausea to speak of, knock wood.
I'm going to go on a walk this morning with Mom, who of course is being phenomenal, and I go in to the docs this afternoon for my Neulasta shot (it increases bone marrow production) and that's about it. I expect the weekend to be a lot of laying around.

'Twas the night before chemo...

2007-05-16T17:44:00.000-07:00

Check out the new rug! I think it's pretty festive what with all the chunky streaks. Kind of a lot of hair, actually, but that's okay. I had no idea that wigs were so cheap, er, inexpensive. I could have 10 synthetics for the cost of a medium quality human hair wig and synthetics don't require styling! (No comments from the peanut gallery about how cheap they look either...) How did I not know about this magic thing? It's like the big Barbie head I always wanted as a child, only I get to wear it. Head shaving is scheduled for May 30, so I'll debut this bad girl in public shortly thereafter. I suppose she needs a name. Any suggestions?

My port still hurts, but I have lidocaine cream to numb it with for the many giant needle pokes coming my way over the next 4 months, and I know I'll be happy I have it. Just plain weird to have it in me, though. I wonder if I'll ever be able to sleep on my side again.

First chemo tomorrow... have I mentioned how much I love my Ativan? I'm not stressed... just zen... through pharmaceuticals. It's not for nothing that I was a child of the 70's. At this point I'm not scared or nervous, just resigned and ready to kick cancer cell butt. This morning on the way to work the radio was playing Justin Timberlake and every beat of "I'm Bringing Sexy Back" I was visualizing him kicking and stomping on cancer cells. On the beat of course. Chemo is magic and I welcome it. But how my body is going to react remains The Big Question. Stay tuned and I'll let you know.

Mother's Day

2007-05-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

On this Mother's Day I pause to give a shameless, overly sentimental thank you to my mom. She took me to 5:30 a.m. port-placement surgery on Friday, brought me home, made our family meals, took care of my kids AND my dad, and did it all weekend until I felt able to provide at least the basics here (which just happened a few hours ago). She is unflagging in her energy, supports my delusions that medical personnel of both sexes are flirting with me, makes the most nutritious meals on the face of the planet and folds my laundry beautifully! There's something about having Mom nearby when I don't feel good that makes me feel like everything is fine. She makes me feel safe. I'm so thankful to have her; so thankful that she's able to come to Portland and take care of me, and that she's committed to being with me for all my chemo treatments. It's the best medicine I could ask for.

On a sobering note, I got news today of a good friend's niece who has been in aggressive treatment for Osteosarcoma. The cancer has spread, treatment is being stopped and hospice is being consulted. My prayers are with Chelsea and those who love her. And on this Mother's Day my heart goes out especially to her mom Celeste who has to go places a mom should never have to go. May she travel with grace.

Happy Mother's Day everyone... I am blessed to be one, and blessed to have one beside me.

Back to it

2007-05-09T21:07:00.000-07:00

I had the most amazing vacation, filled with the perfect mix of quiet and connecting with incredible people in a beautiful, soul-filled place. All those hours of reading, staring at the horizon, listening to the jungle, laughing over wonderful meals (that I didn't have to cook! Or clean up after!) and deciding when to turn over were amazingly therapeutic. Now I sit in front of the computer and nothing comes out. This is a good thing. Being able to turn off the internal dialogue, at will, is important. I think they call it meditation... Wreaks havoc on my creative process though.

Tomorrow I have what I like to think of as "Chemo U" which will leave me more educated than I could possibly want to be. Friday I am having surgery to get my port put in. My parents are coming to town for that. My first chemo treatment is scheduled for Thursday the 17th. From all I've learned, getting the treatment itself isn't bad - it's several days later that it starts to suck. I'll know more after tomorrow's appointment and if I learn anything exciting, believe me, I'll share.

One thing I did learn for sure on my vacation: I am going to be okay. God told me so. Loudly. Several times.

Amazing.

A Vacation

2007-04-30T20:53:00.000-07:00

We all need vacations from time to time. Vacations provide an opportunity to escape our everyday lives, and to rest and recharge our life-batteries.

I am going on vacation tomorrow and this is where I am going:

V E R A N A

Doesn't it look amazing? I have packed 5 books, a big art journal, many colored pencils, and very little else. I don't plan on doing much of anything. Unless I really, really want to.

When I come back I will think about cancer again. I found out today that I will be having chemo before radiation, so I suppose that surgery to put in a port will be the next step, followed by what freaks me out the most: the beginning of chemo. Still no exact start date... but there's plenty of time to think about it next week.

After my vacation.

What makes YOU happy?

2007-04-26T18:04:00.000-07:00

My last week or so has been filled with test after test, allowing the docs to establish a baseline before they start to wreck me with poison and radiation. I've had CT scans, been drawn on with sharpies, tattooed for radiation, had my first bone scan, blood has been drawn and tomorrow I have a muga (heart) scan. All to be sure that what is going to cure me isn't going to kill me. My life-long hatred of needles has been tested, and yes, I still hate them.

The importance of fitting in things that make me happy has never been more important. I'm still recovering from surgery, and in a fair amount of pain much of the time, but some things don't need a whole lot of energy or freedom from pain to do. Case in point: the tanning bed. I love the tanning bed. I haven't visited one in years, but it was one of the first things I signed up for when the big diagnosis came down. Tanning beds make me happy. Being tan makes me happy. God bless my radiation oncologist who gave me the thumbs up as long as I cover the ta-tas. THAT, I can do.

And here is another thing that makes me happy: Waterloo

I love the movie "Muriel's Wedding." And I do love Abba. Perfect to hum while you're being injected with something radioactive, as I was this morning. Perfect for the tanning booth, or the commute.

It's important for all of us to know what makes us happy. Needles don't, but tanning and Abba both do. Life is good.

42!

2007-04-19T19:48:00.000-07:00

The biggest surprise of today's multi-doc appointment: I actually had 42 lymph nodes removed!!! Only 1 had cancer in it, though. Apparently my body is an over-achiever in the lymph node department, as the average number of pit nodes hovers around 25. I've got more. Or I did. None now, which helps me understand the rather slow recovery and the weird tingly feelings I have in my upper arm. And maybe, someday, my armpit will have feelings again. TMI? I just wish my body would choose to over-achieve in something slightly more attractive, like six-pack abs, or an amazing singing voice...

It's no surprise that I will be having chemo, radiation and hormone therapy. I am signing up to be part of a clinical study that might change my treatment somewhat, and put a short, intense course of radiation before chemo, but I won't know that for a few weeks. My next focus will be doc appointments getting me ready for the study: xrays, ct scans, blood draws, etc. Nothing big, but all headed me down the road to the goal: No More Cancer, Ever.

Oh, and the tumor margins were good, but this stuff acts in bizarre ways, and can send off little arms here and there; hence the reason for the chemo. If cancer IS anywhere else in my body it's gonna get nuked. I'm calling in the big guns and declaring war. The 42 lymph nodes are just the first casualties.

Today's Adventures

2007-04-17T16:04:00.000-07:00

Whew! I am drain-free! I can barely express how good it feels to have that thing OUT. I won't get too graphic, but the part inside my body was much larger than the diameter of the tubing coming out. Removal stung, but only for a minute and my excellent friend Tracy allowed me to squeeze the heck out of her hand. I feel brave! My 2 incisions are healing as they should and within a week or so I'll be in really good shape. The numbness I feel in my upper arm is something I will have to continue to get used to. It might be around for a week or it might stick around forever. Bizarre.

In other adventures, first pathology is back from surgery. Dr. Niak said that no cancer was found in any other lymph nodes, only the one removed, and that the margins of my (rather small!) 1.1 cm tumor had pre-cancerous cells, but looked pretty good. More details to follow after Thursday's big multi-doc appointment.

I've managed mornings at the office so far, but by lunchtime my arm is throbbing and I have to lay down. I think with the drain gone I'll improve faster and will hopefully be back to a regular day by the end of the week. Hopefully.

A Farewell Poem to My JP Drain

2007-04-16T21:37:00.000-07:00

Oh little drain
so foreign
yet sewn into me
so you become me
and I feel like Frankenstein.

Tomorrow I say goodbye to you
and I will not be sad
because you hurt.

Your yard of rubber tubing
and flattened bulb
are a miracle of fluid collecting wonderment.

But I will take my miracles in other forms.

My lazy Saturday

2007-04-14T13:51:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure life gets much better than this:

-A house full of flowers,
-A refrigerator full of healthy food,
-Friends and family calling to check in,
-Not a thing to do all weekend but lay around recuperating,
and
-A marathon of "America's Next Top Model" on MTV!
Definitely a recipe for healthy healing!

I'm still sore and exhausted but getting better by the day. Thanks so much everyone for being so supportive of me. It means the world.

Surgery Nitty Gritty

2007-04-11T15:25:00.000-07:00

I had a long surgery yesterday, followed by a night's stay in the hospital. Cancer was found in one lymph node which was removed, as was the lump. I have a drain at the back of my armpit. It feels about as good as you might imagine. It will remain there for probably 10 days. Or more.

Final pathology won't come back until next week, so until then there is no further information on tumor margins or anything else. I will post it when I know it.

My mom is staying with me so I am well taken care of.

This does mean that I will have chemo for sure. But I am not thinking about it right now. Right now I am just concentrating on recovering from this surgery.

When I am feeling a little more like myself I will write up a rant about the horrors of hospitals and incompetent nurses... Let's just say I'm glad to be home!

Tomorrow's Plan

2007-04-09T17:46:00.000-07:00

For enquiring minds...

I get to OHSU at 8,:00 a.m., get a wire stuck in my tumor, have a nuclear injection and THEN after all that fun I FINALLY get anesthesia and surgery: lumpectomy with sentinal node biopsy. Lymph node dissection (removal) if the bad stuff is in there.

I'll be home in the afternoon unless they find it in my lymph nodes. Then I have to stay overnight.

Mom is coming over to take care of me.

Watch this space for an update...

And thanks everyone for the comments and cards and flowers and lovely, lovely emails. It all helps.

Break Down

2007-04-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

Baby breakdown
Go ahead and give it to me
Breakdown honey take me through the night
Breakdown now I'm standin' here can't you see
Breakdown it's all right
It's all right
-Tom Petty

It was only a matter of time I suppose. Today the tears started. Racking, dramatic, heaving tears while I told God over and over and over again that I'm not brave enough for this. I don't have a high enough pain threshold to get through this. I'm not the right person - it was supposed to be somebody else. I have a LIFE to lead. Kids. Friends. Job. Stuff. No time for cancer! No interest in cancer! Lots of places I'd like to go, things I'd like to see and experience, but not this!

The phone has been ringing off the hook and I'm too distraught to talk. I let the well-meaning messages pile up on the answering machine. I hope everyone will understand. I just can't keep talking about it. Especially when I'm feeling so emotional and afraid and the very thought of putting on a brave face makes me want to crawl into bed and not come out. Ever. If I have to hear one more story about somebody's friend or aunt or cousin who had breast cancer and was fine I'm going to scream. Because quite frankly, right now I don't feel fine. Right now I'm scared shitless.

Here's the reality. Every tumor is different. Every body is different. Oncology is not an exact science. My cancer is it's own little being. I get to become an experiment. But I won't know what kind of experiment until I have surgery. That's when it all is going to get very real. I have 1 more day of what might be blissful ignorance before I find out what I'm really dealing with.

And that is scary.

Break down indeed. Only the first of what I'm sure will be many.

A Road Bump

2007-04-06T21:12:00.000-07:00

I knew when my internist left a message to call her home phone number that the news wasn't going to be good. Did I cry? A little. Am I still in shock 3 days later? Maybe.

A routine mammogram isn't supposed to lead to this. It's just supposed to be that: routine. Boob-squishing and annoying, but routine. Maybe some extra films are called for but CANCER? Well apparently yes. I am that one in however many. That 20% of biopsied lumps that aren't benign. As much as it might suck, this is the road I'm traveling. More than one friend has said, however, that it's just a road bump in my life's journey. Something to get over. And through. So here I am. Staring down the road but only as far as the next appointment. Knowing it's one hellava bump.

I've met my cancer-fighting team of uber docs, have surgery scheduled for next week, have friends and family clamoring to help. The kids have been talked to and work has been apprised of both my desire to work through this, and the impossibility of predicting what my capabilities will be. I've worn myself out trying to keep everyone in the know. I don't like talking about it so much. Maybe I am still in shock but right now I just want to live my normal life. I bought a polka-dotted binder and I'm going to hole-punch all my medical papers and put them in there. I'm going to attack this road bump with, at the very least, brightly colored polka-dots and some semblance of organization. Something we ought to bring to everything we do in life.