Rocking the 'Rag

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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.