What Cancer Cannot Do

I think I talk a lot about what cancer has taken away from me.  I typically try to stay really positive, but the last few weeks through treatment have been really hard on me emotionally.  My baby sister, yea she isn't a baby because she's 23, sent me a text one night of what cancer cannot take away from you.  I don't know where she got it, but I looked over it and cried and then said a prayer to God because through it all I still have something.  Share this.  Share it will all of your friends, because this is a powerful message. 

 

What Cancer Cannot Do

 

Cancer is so LIMITED . . . . . .

 

It cannot cripple Love

 

It cannot shatter Hope

 

It cannot corrode Faith

 

It cannot destroy Peace

 

I cannot kill Friendship

 

It cannot suppress Memories

 

It cannot silence Courage

 

It cannot invade the Soul

 

It cannot steal Eternal Life

 

It cannot conquer the Spirit

 

So go tell your friends that cancer cannot win.  Thank you baby sister for putting things into perspective for me again.  I love you.  

Chemo #3

I was pretty tender from my port placement and a little tired.  Sam and I had to be there early as usual.  We've made a habit of stopping for breakfast along the way.  Just a little tradition to brighten the day. 

It was the first day using my new appendage, ie my port.  Blood draws are always first, so I was called back quickly.  First, access to the port is gained.  Ok, not fun.  She essentially grabs the port access, which is under my skin and holds it while she sticks in a small needle.  This was very sore being that this skin had just been cut to put the port in the day before.  But, once she finds it, she does one poke and I'm done. 

 

(image: Google images)

 

(image: Google images)

 

The IV line is then attached.  The nurse did a quick saline and heparin flush, which tasted nasty (I then understood why there was a huge jar of Jolly Ranchers on her counter).  She then drew blood and flushed again and sent my on my way.  I picked up Sam out of the waiting room and we went to see Dr. T. 

It was just a normal quick appointment.  The side effects had been a little bit better on round 2 and they are giving me everything they can to combat the effects.  All was well, so we went back to the waiting room to wait for my favorite nurse Caitlyn to call me back to punish me. 

Thanks to a huge breakfast bagel from Brugers on the way to treatment, I had only lost a few more pounds and the staff was ok with it.  I still need to gain, but they were ok for this treatment. 

Caitlyn hooked me up through the IV line and we were started right away.  Don't mind the picture, I was really tired. 

 

Things went smooth and we were headed home before we new it.  Really there isn't too much to report as things went as planned.  3 down, 1 to go.  I really want to quit chemo.  It's hard and I hate feeling sick all of the time.  I hate that I can't make my family dinner, I can barely sit at the table with them because the smells make me sick, and I can't play for long with Camden. 

 

I know that quitting isn't an option because I have a family and there are more people to think about than just myself.  But man, this isn't fun. 



 



Going to Port

After my last chemo, the nursing staff was very frustrtated working with my IV so I was scheduled to get a portacatheter placed.  This is something, again, that I wasn't looking forward to and I didn't want to do.  With cancer, you don't get a lot of choices and you never feel in control.  This has been a challenge for my Type A personality. 

A port is essentially just an IV that staying all the time that all of my chemo and blood draws can be admninistered through.  I just get one very small poke and everything else is fed through the line. 

(image: Google images)

I was scheduled for surgery with the lovely Dr. DJ to get my port placed.  Just a simple, same day procedure.  My good friend Melissa agreed to take me because Sam needed to already take me to chemo that week.  She picked me up in one of our many spring snow storms and we trekked our way to the hospital.  It was a slow drive with lots of cars in the ditch, but we made it with plenty of time to spare. 

I checked in at the information desk and a volunteer escorted us into the operating room dungeon down stairs. I don't think he thought we were nearly as funny as we did; he introduced us to the addmissions woman as the two smart asses.  Whoops.  It was a short wait and I was taken back to get prepared for surgery. 

I have lost all of my hair by this point, so I was wearing my hat.  Just dreading the time when they were going to tell me to take it off.  I did not want to take off my hat.  Again the nursing staff was great and the process went by quickly.  Because of the weather a lot of people had cancelled, so I seemed to get a lot of attention.  Getting an IV started was a problem again, I still have bruises nearly 2 weeks later (and yes, I know I got behind on my blog--sorry!).  But the CRNA finally got a good stick. 

Melissa got to come back and see me before I went in.  Of course we joked and laughed most of the time.  That's why I like this girl, she thinks I'm funny.  Before I knew I was taken back for a quick nap and then taken to the recovery room.  Everything went really quickly and easy. 

Now I look more like an alien with a lump on my chest where the port access is.  I know this will ultimately make things easier on everyone, but I just didn't want it.  It feels funny and I don't like the lump.  I got to try it out at chemo the next day.

(image: Google images, I don't have black chest hairs)

The Shaving

Sam and I took traditional wedding vows.  There is something about vows that have been said for hundreds of years by millions of couples that reins true to the Lord in what we were promising to each other.  I never wanted to write my own vows because I never thought I could perfectly express what those words already were saying. 

 

 I __________________ take thee, _______________ to be my wedded husband/wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish forever, according to God s Holy Ordinance, and thereto I give thee my pledge, until death us do part.

In sickness and in health.  Marriage isn't about just being healthy and just getting all of the highs in life.  Marriage is about the celebrating the successes, but embracing each other through the lows.  I never thought in 3 years of marriage Sam and I would be faced with the challenges that have been brought before us.  

In sickness and in health.  Sam and I both report no cavities in our marriage, healthy physicals, healthy vet visits, and healthy pregnancy and delivery.  I think there is a reason sickness is listed first in the vow of marriage because all couples need to be reminded that you may not both be healthy through your entire life until death do you part.  

In sickness and in health.  Even after my short hair cut the shower was still an emotional experience for me.  Not only staring down to no breasts, but then feeling clumps of hair falling down my back and fearing the need for a plumber when I grabbed my towel.  I asked Sam to shave my head for me.  He agreed, even after me reasking multiple times and even offering to ask my friend Jill to do it for me.  Sam insisted he wanted to do it for me.  

In sickness and in health.  I've cried a lot since my last treatment.  I don't know if it's the change in meds or the change in my appearance or really what.  The most tears I have shed have been the last week.  It took me a whole week to compile my thoughts for this post.  It's been traumatic for me.  Hair is a vanity, but cancer has already taken so much of my femininity, why does it have to take my hair, too?

In sickness and in health.  We walked down to the basement bathroom where I cut Sam's hair for him.  We got out the folding chair and the clippers and cape.  I turned the chair's back to the mirror.  I couldn't watch.  I just couldn't do it.  My hair had been combed funny and was under my hat all day so it was hard to clip short.  Sam tried to joke and lighten the mood, but we both knew what our true feelings were.  When we were finished I looked up to my ever-loving husband, the picture of strength and positivity, to the tears in his eyes.  I apologized to him.  I felt so ugly, so worthless, so helpless, and so sorry that I made him do this to me.  We embraced and both cried for a long time.  Cancer is hard, cancer is really, really hard, but the emotions that are placed on your marriage are the toughest we have ever experienced in our sort 29 years.  

In sickness and in health.  I took that vow in front of God and our family and friends on October 3, 2009; pledging to Sam that I would be by his side no matter what until death do us part.  But, you know what, he took the same vow.  He reminds me daily that beauty is not on the outside, that I am so much more than my hair.  For this, I say, I love you Sam.  This is why God put us together, because we are stronger as two than we are as one.      

Easter Day

My one goal for Easter was to feel well enough to get Camden to church in his Easter outfit.  Easter is an important holiday and tradition to remind us what Jesus has given to us to and why we can have HOPE.  And I need hope right now.  Easter is the foundation of my faith and why I can pray to God and know that He hears me and when it's time I will get to live with Him in Eternity. 

We were slow moving in the morning, but Camden woke up with a smile and we were so excited to see him go through his Easter basket. 

Camden was so excited for the snacks and his fruit pouches, but I don't think he can wait to get into the garden with his new tools.  He raked the kitchen floor more than once.  We showered up and had to get out the door for church, but of course pictures first. 

 

My silly boy, always making faces.  This was attempt 20 for a photo, he just doesn't hold still any more!  After church we came home so I could rest, but after a nap we went over to Sam's parents for Easter dinner with most of his mom's side of the family.  And one more picture.

 

 

Happy Easter family and friends!  He is Risen--He is Risen INDEED!



The Losing My Hair Haircut

I decided pulling clumps out of my hair wasn't cool and I need to lose some of the length to make the transition a little easier.  I've never really had short hair and I really didn't want to start now.  I went to my stylist Lindsey for two reasons: 1) to let her know I'm not firing her, I just won't have any hair to cut 2) because I like her and I wanted her to cut off my hair. 

I sat down in the chair and she asked what I was planning.  Well, the cat is out of the bag.  I have cancer and I'm going through chemo and my hair is falling out.  Please cut it off so I can deal with it a little easier.  She pulled out some books for me to look at, but honestly I didn't like any of them.  I didn't want to be cutting my hair.  I just told her maybe something like Halle Berry with a longer front since I feel like I have a large forehead. 

Lindsey went with it and just started cutting.  I lost a lot of hair in the shampoo bowl and when she combed it out and then while she was cutting.  Just clumps kept falling.  I reminded her if there were any large bald spots already then we would just need to buzz it off.  This is what we came up with:

 

I guess it will work for now.  I don't like it, but I don't really like much about what is going on in my life right now. 

Chemo #2

My mom had come back to visit for the last week.  We really didn't do much other than hang out and get the house picked up for my next down period.  We had some great times just being together and being with Camden.  He is starting to say so many more syllables and can say most animal sounds on command--even a rooster!  He amazes me every day and reminds me of what I have to fight for.  

I woke up on the day of chemo in tears again.  I hate this crap.  I don't know how to put it.  I just feel like its torture and I wish I didn't have to go through this.  Sam went to work because my mom was with me this time.  But in true chemo day fashion I fell in his arms and cried.  My hair started to really come out on Wednesday and my emotions were high.  I have said from the very beginning that chemo would break me and it has.  I cry so much out of frustration and anger.  

I showered and watched the clumps fall down the drain and I cried in the water pouring over my head.  I feel so vain having these feelings, but throughout this process I want to be honest and upfront.  

My mom and I had to leave very early to get to chemo by 7:30.  I had my blood drawn and then had to meet with the nurse practioner since Dr. T is on vacation.  Today was my first surviorship appointment.  Apparently, there is a national program for cancer patients to get them through the stages of survivorship.  I'm still fighting the battle, but I have survived the diagnoses.  This appointment is a check on where I am doing emtionally.  Well . . . if you read the first few paragraphs you might guess, I'm pretty down.  

I met with the wonderful Sara, NP.  Fresh out of school and a sponk for the fight against cancer.  I think she and I could be friends outside of this crappy diagnoses, but we tried to stay on task--hard for me, I talk a lot.  I was asked a series of questions on a computer terminal that then printed out my areas for concern that we would talk about. 

We started off the visit with how my last treatment went and basically found out it went about as bad as possible.  I should have called, but I hate to be that patient.  We talked about how things should go better this time and what threshold I should have for myself and how much I should allow myself to tolerate. 

Then on to the survivorship portion--cue  the tissue full box of Kleenex.  Sara asked one simple question:  How are you feeling about all of this? 

You know, I don't know if anyone has truly asked me that yet, or if it was anyone I felt that I could let me guard down to.  I felt like I could be honest and my first response was "I don't want to die." 

The past couple weeks since starting treatment this all become so real for me.  I'm the strong one, I'm the comforting one, I'm the one who gave the eulogy without tears at my brother's funeral, I'm the one sending donations and prayer; so why me?  Why do I have to be on this side of things? 

I don't want to die.  I have worked so hard in my life for what I've become.  I've gone from a 5 year plan to a 2 day plan because I don't know how I will be feeling.  It's awful.  I'm scared, I'm sad, and I'm angry. 

My areas of concern from the questionaire were fatigue and body image.  Man, I sound vain.  I went from working a fast paced full time job, going to school, taking care of a toddler and husband to sitting in a chair taking 2 naps a day.  Taking a shower is utterly exhausting and going to Target requires an internal pep talk.  Body image--oy, where to even scratch the surface.  I was a gymnast and a dancer growing up--you look pretty for those things and you strive for perfection.  You have beautiful make up and hair and your outfits are always sparkly.  Ok, so I've lost the sparkle in place of scrubs and sneakers, but I still pride myself on my looks.  I'm still working (ok, let's be honest, talking about working on) on my post partum body and now I have to go through losing one of the outmost sercurity blankets, my hair.  I've known since surgery this would happen, but catching clumps of hair in the shower is so hard on your self image.

Sara and I talked about groups and meetings that I could go to to meet women who are also going through what I'm going through.  I'm still skeptical because I don't want to sit with a bunch of post menopausal woman talking about cancer.  No offense, older ladies, but it's just not the same.  When you are 50 you have lived a good portion of your life the way you wanted, I've only just begun to figure out what I want my life to entale. 

After our hour long discussion and lot of tears from me and my mom we went and got seated in the infusion room for treatment.  I lost 4 pounds so I got in trouble.  If I lose too much weight they have to scale back my treatment and therefore the cancer isn't getting attacked as hard as it should be.
 

 

I think my favorite part is the heated blanket.  I need one of those blanket warmers at my house.  Things went mostly as planned, but apparently my veins suck and they had a hard time getting my IV in and to stay where it needed to be. 

 

 

Four sticks later and my IV was finally in--and the nurses had scheduling set me up to get a port.  I really didn't want to have to get a port, but they aren't really giving me an option.  Pretty much how I feel about a lot of things, so I will just roll with it. 

 

The treatment took a lot longer than the last time because of all of the IV problems.  We were finally done about 1:00 and of course I found someone to talk to.  She is an older woman who is about 10 weeks ahead of me in treatment.  She was wearing a gorgeous wig and gave me a few tips.  My mom finally pulled me out of there because I tend to make friends too easily.  At least the place is comforting. 

 

I didn't make the same mistake of going for Mexican, but a burger sounded good and I've been craving dilly bars so we drove through the DQ on the way home before I took a nap.  I'm half way done with the red devil (adiamycin and cytoxan).   I just have to keep reminding myself that I can do this.