Wednesday, July 25, 2012

I'm such a diva!

So today I had two exciting cancer related things happen!  I've been back at work since Sunday and doing well.  Today I went in for my Wednesday check-up, which is when I go into the cancer center and they draw blood to moniter how I'm doing in response to the chemo.  Last round I had totally normal blood levels the week after chemo but a slightly low white blood cell count two weeks after.  This round, again, a week after I had normal levels but today they were all over the place!  I don't know what any of the numbers mean, but evidentally while "normal" white blood cell levels are between 4.5-9 somethings, mine were at 1.3 somethings.  And that was one of 13 levels that were out of the normal range.  It's so weird because I feel totally fine.  So I had to get an injection today of Neupogen and return for two more over the next two days.  It's supposed to make my bones ache and give me flu-like symptons, so that's cool, but hopefully I won't have to postpone my (fingers crossed) last chemo treatment.  So far I still feel pretty good so maybe I'm one of the few who's body is so awesome that I don't get any of the side effects.  Of course, if my body was so awesome I probably wouldn't have such a low WBC.  Hmmm.  Let's not dwell...

After my slightly depressing visit to the cancer clinic, I went to the American Cancer Society for a wig.  Now I know what you're thinking - Naomi, I thought you were too good for a wig!  I thought you said wigs were lame and you were gonna let your few strands of hair flow freely in the wind for all to see!  Well no worries friends, I will continue to make other people awkward with my almost bald head the majority of the time.  (Just today a near stranger came up to me and poked the top of my head while saying "boop boop!"  Is that now a socially acceptable ice breaker?  Does that really communicate the love and support I would hope you would want to give a person going through cancer?  Makes me honestly laugh - people are so funny.)  However, I am banking on going to this CA wedding at the end of August and I feel like my bald head distracts from the totally gorgeous dress I'm going to be wearing.  Plus, I will have about 30000000000000 pictures taken on me on that day and it would be awesome to be able to look them without immediately thinking cancer.  So screw you cancer!  Come Sept. 1st, I'm gonna look more hot than pathetic! 

The wig I settled on looks pretty much like my hair (I think).  Dark brown, super straight, and long.  I think I love it.  It reminds me of how my hair looked on my wedding day, which makes me happy.  Plus, the wig can actually be styled if I want it to be, which is cool.  The wig style is "diva" - not kidding - so we'll see if I can live up to it haha.     

Thursday, July 19, 2012

I didn't have a heart attack!

Hey everyone :)  I know it's been a while.  To catch you up...  My second round of chemo went very well, all things considered.  My recovery time was much faster and my wonderful PILs (parents-in-law)  were here, taking care of me and helping Danny keep the house clean.  I went back to work soon after and worked really hard for about a week and a half over the 4th of July.  We had a huge kids baseball tournament in Kingsport and the majority of the teams were staying at my hotel, which lead to a few very chaotic evenings.  I had one day off and then I was back at the cancer center, getting my third treatment.  Before the treatment we got to talk to the doctor who confirmed that I will only have to get FOUR treatments before he will attempt to get my insurance to approve another PETscan.  If that scan comes back cancer free, then I will be done with the main portion of my chemotherapy.  This would be SO AMAZING - not only would I only have to get one more treatment but I would more than likely be well enough to travel for my brother's wedding at the end of August.  We are desperately hopeful.

The third treatment has been easier than the first, but more difficult than the second.  My mom came to stay with us for a week after treatment and it was so awesome to have her here.  However, I think I may have pushed myself a little too fast to get better simply because I wanted to enjoy time with my mom.  I've continued to feel headache-y, stomachache-y, and weak longer than I did the last time through.  And then yesterday, we had a little bit of a scare.  Since my mom had left on Tuesday morning, I had been feeling off again.  Nothing I could put my finger on, just not feeling good.  I was due to go in for my 8th day blood draw on Wednesday and about 15 minutes before I was going to get in the car, I stretched a little.  All of a sudden, the entire left side of my chest and left arm got very tight and my port felt like it was being crushed or something.  I couldn't shake or massage the tension out.  It was very scary - I've never felt anything like it before.  I got in the car and called Danny.  He ran out of school and met me at the cancer center.  On the trip over, my arm still hurt and my heart would intermittently get very tight and then slowly kind of echo out.  The nurses took me right back and did an EKG.  Everything in my heart looked fine.  After hours of this and that, we ended up at a hospital in Kingsport for an ultrasound of my left side to look for blood clots.  Nothing there either.  So now I'm back home relaxing, but we don't really know what happened.  We are cautious because my type of chemotherapy can easily damage the heart or create blood clots - our ultrasound tech took extra time and shared that she was actually surprised not to find any from hearing my symptoms and treating others on my type of chemo regime.  So we are thankful that everything appears ok, but still a little wary.  I'm just anxious to feel back to normal, which appears to be still a few days away.  To celebrate me not having a heart attack, Danny and I grabbed some dinner on the way home and got a picture.  You can see I still have on the hospital bracelet for added sympathy points.  ;)

 

Other than cancer, we do have some fun things going on.  I have decided to learn French to prepare for some possible adventures in the future.  I completely suck at it thus far.  Danny and I have learn to play the game Dominion, which we both love.  We are also currently going through How I Met Your Mother on Netflix and enjoying it.  My mom bought me the prettiest dress in all of America to wear to Jeff and Laura's wedding - it's like a cool sea foam green and it looks like I am one with the ocean.  Danny started his new job at school and so far it's going great.  Thank you all for continuing to support us in all of this!



Thursday, June 21, 2012

Potentially not as devastating!

Yesterday I had my second chemo treatment.  The day started off with a bang - Danny and I woke up to the worst smell our nostrils have ever encountered.  Danny walked into the bathroom to find that one of our cats, Charlie, had pooped and peed on our bathmat while the other cat, Amos, had pooped in the CatGenie but we had mistakenly put in the wrong cleaning solution and the CatGenie proceeded to shred, re-wet, and bake the toxic smelling poop. throwing the odor into every particle of air throughout the entire house.  I had to brush my teeth on the porch, that's how bad it was.  SO frustrating, especially since we had just had the house thoroughly cleaned the day before and I was off to chemo.  Our pastor and good friend Jordan came over to take us to chemo and then spend the day with Danny until I was done.  We told him the wrong time so he showed up at 8am instead of 8:45am, about 2 minutes after Danny and I had rolled out of bed and cussed at the cats.  He also choose to spend his time waiting to go outside of the house.  Great start to a great day haha...

I was less apprehensive going to the appointment this time just because I knew what to expect.  Such a blessing.  I could enjoy time with Danny and Jordan while we stopped to pick up donuts, coffee, and a sandwich for later.  Last time I was too afraid to eat anything the morning of because I thought I would be throwing it up later in the day.  This time I know that the one thing that made me feel worse was not having enough in my stomach and not consistently flushing the system, so I've been trying to eat more.  We got to the Cancer Center at 9:15.  I got blood work done at 9:45.  We walked back to a room to speak with the doctor at 10.  We actually spoke to the doctor at 11.  The chemo started around 11:30 and finished up around 5.  Knowing that it would take a little while for the sickness to catch up with me, Danny and I got Jimmy Johns for dinner on the way home.  I started feeling a little sick around 8pm - just light headed, loss of energy, that sweeping overwhelming feeling that makes me tear up instantly, and this strange feeling like you could throw-up at any moment but you don't really feel sick.  That last bit I think is because of the anti-nausea medicine.  I slept very well and have just relaxing all day today, with only a few minor break downs.  I feel exponentially better today than I did at this time last round.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty pathetic, but just having the motivation to write a blog post and be able to sit in front of the computer is testimony to how much better I feel as compared to last time.  All I can do is continue to pray that this round would roll over me gently.  

We have had more people stop by and deliver food to us this round, which I was a little nervous about.  Last round I just didn't eat much at all and really strong smelling food didn't help me feel any better.  However, my gorgeous friend Tiffany and a wonderful woman at church named Tommie brought us meals that are so good and so sensitive to my strange and specific diet at the moment.  It seems like it's easier to eat this round because I have a few more options to work with.  We are so blessed.  

In other news, Danny interviewed for a new job yesterday and he thinks it went well.  His current job is at the hospital and it is inconsistent at best.  We haven't been able to rely on it for steady income, which makes planning and budgeting difficult.  We are really excited about this job possibility - it would really help compensate for the income I've lost from not being able to work as much.  

Cheers to a potentially not as completely devastating round!             

Monday, June 18, 2012

Just call me Evie...

Life has definitely moved faster since I last wrote. I was right in thinking I was finally over the worst of it on my last post - my health has continued to improve and I am seriously in awe of how good I feel. There were little accomplishments every day - Friday (day 10) I drove to Target by myself on a mission to get Danny a present and it was the first time I felt good enough to leave the house on my own. On Saturday (day 11) I celebrated getting through a whole day of eating without having to run immediately to the bathroom afterward. On Sunday (day 12) I went to the track and actually ran a half mile (in embarrassingly short increments mind you, but whatever)!! That was the first time I had run since before November (which was when my leg tumors began fracturing my tibia from the inside). While on the track, I was completely overwhelmed with emotion and ended up tearing up in front of this kind ogre of a man that happened to be walking nearby. Haha, leave it to cancer to break down walls between people. :) I was just so thankful that I felt good and so amazed at my body - how extraordinary we are designed. I mean, I had just poured bags and bags full of poison into my body 12 days earlier! On Monday, I went back to work. I have been working every day since (except for a really nice break yesterday).  Of the past 7 days of work, my boss asked me to stand MOD on 5 of them!  It was a little overwhelming at first, going from zero exertion to 100% effort, but I got through it.  It felt so good to really feel like I was contributing again.  And everyone at work has been so kind to me, making me feel like I had really been missed while I was sick.

Last Thursday I woke up to a new surprise - my hair officially began to fall out and quickly. In the shower that day I washed my hair and every time I ran my fingers through it to rinse out the shampoo, I would come away with my hand covered with strands of hair. It didn't come out in clumps or sections, like I thought it might, its just seemed like random hairs all over my head decided to jump ship. It was like a bunch of lemmings - every time I would run my hand through my hair, more and more follicles decided to join their friends in the trash can.  I wanted to get all of the loose ones out so that they didn't just fall out on my shoulders or heaven forbid into someone's food, but after standing over a garbage can for 5 minutes straight pulling loads out I figured out that I would be bald before the night ended if I didn't stop.  The next day Danny and I went to Jane's beauty shop (a friend from church) and she buzzed it.  I was really concerned that my lack of hair would be a huge distraction at work that night and the guests would choke on their food and gawk at me as I passed by, but it turned out not to be a big deal.  I had brought a scarf in to cover up if I was feeling awkward, but I didn't end up using it.  I may wear scarves more when I am totally bald, but with half of my hair still in place and only a centimeter long, the scarves pull on my scalp and it makes them more of a nuisance than their worth.  Now that it's all said and done, I really don't mind my new look much at all.  It's weird when the wind blows and it feels like someone is pouring water on my head, but I'm sure it's something I'll get used to.
 
We are trying to gear up for the next round of chemo, which I'll be getting on Wednesday (only 2 days away now, poop on a stick).  I am hopeful that this time won't be as bad as last time since we are now armed with much more knowledge and experience.  I have a few new medicines that we think will prevent some of the symptoms from last round, I have a lounge chair on the porch to perch on for hours away from some of the nausea-inducing sounds and smells that live inside our house, and we are stocked up with high fiber wraps and shredded cheese for quick quesadillas.  Someone is supposed to come and clean the house tomorrow (hallelujah!) and I've already got The Glee Project in my Hulu queue to watch on Wednesday while I'm stuck in the depressing chemo ward.  Most importantly, this time I know that the pain WILL subside eventually and that I won't feel horrible forever.  That knowledge is absolutely priceless.  Danny's parents are coming to visit at the end of this week and we are both VERY excited to see them (even though that may not come across when they arrive because I'll be so drugged out).  Not the most thrilling of vacations for them, but it means the world to us.
  
I know I haven't been good about returning emails or sending thank yous to the many of you that have contacted us and encouraged us with your unfaltering support.  Please forgive me.  I have always been terrible at correspondence and the cancer hasn't seemed to make that any easier.  I am very very thankful for all of you that are choosing to walk with us through this.  The notes, emails, packages, texts, and calls mean more than you know.

Lastly (but not least!), a dear friend of mine from my old church in Asheville (shout out to my Breakthrough family!!) has created a line of very cute and well made products under her small business called Unique 31 that, if ordered, will directly profit us.  She has designed three different awesome hats, headbands, and flower clips especially for us that you can peruse in her online store here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.372845712779669.87784.202529366477972&type=1  If you are interested in buying something, simply send Jen a message through Facebook and she will give you detailed instructions on how to complete the purchase.  Every little bit helps and we are completely humbled by Jen's offer to make these beautiful creations in an effort to support us.  If you have time, please go and look at the page to see if anything strikes your fancy!

Friday, June 8, 2012

To believe that there is nothing else to fear...

So let's try this again.  This time, I think I actually am out of the worst of it.  Last post I foolishly thought that was true until I took another pretty hard spiral down into oblivion.  This disease, this treatment - every day brings new difficulties, new pain, new fears.  My heart breaks for every single person that is touched by it.  Now that I'm feeling better it's easier for me to say that I'm lucky, that it wasn't half as bad as it could have been.  The body forgets pain so quickly, it's incredible.  Seven days of horror and then it's mostly over - I can do that.  I have to do it.  I'm hoping the next time through will be a little more bearable just because I'll have some idea of what's going on.

This whole last week has been marked by fear.  All of these pains were new to me and I didn't know what would ease them in the slightest, how long they would remain, or what would make them more angry.  I was afraid to eat and afraid to not eat, afraid to take medicine and afraid not to, afraid to turn on the tv, afraid to sleep too long, afraid to move too quickly, afraid to look at the computer screen - I was a hot mess.  Paralyzed by and overwhelmed with fear.  You can verify this by asking anyone who spoke to me during days 5-7, which I lovingly call the Sob Phase.  I don't think I've ever cried like I did during that time before in my life.  Thankfully I had Neebo to wipe my tears away, repeatedly.  And my sweet family to call (seriously, I think my soon to be sister Laura saved my life one very dark morning).  And my husband who patiently endured my nonstop complaining.  And my God, and this song I sang over and over to myself:

The Greatness Of Our God

Give me eyes to see more of who you are
May what I behold still my anxious heart
Take what I have known and break it all apart
For you my God are greater still...

Give me grace to see beyond this moment here
To believe that there is nothing else to fear
And that you alone are high above it all
For you my God are greater still...

I am SO THANKFUL to be feeling more like myself.  There is so much to write, but I'm still a little gun shy of staying in front of the computer for long.  I wore earplugs for a few days last week because the sound of the refrigerator was making me nauseated, so yea, I'm a little protective over my potential sensitivities.  What's most important is that I have survived this far and I'm now almost back to myself (except for an incredibly finicky stomach and not having much physical endurance).  One down, seven (oh sweet Jesus PLEASE make it more like two) more to go.  

Sunday, June 3, 2012

After a brief intermission...

So I guess it's probably about time for me to climb out of my self-pitying hole and let you guys know that I'm alive.  And ok, all things considered.  It's been five days now since chemo.  The first few days I just sat.  I sat and I stared and I waited to feel better.  Everything seemed like it was too hard, too exhausting, completely overwhelming.  Lifting my arm.  Forming words.  Being engaged in anything.  You know something is very wrong and you know that you feel very sick, but you can't explain it and you can't make it better.  I felt like it took everything I had in me to simply sit and stare and wait.  I was very sensitive to things, especially noises.  The hum of the refrigerator, the tv, the cat litter box, they all made my head ache in this strange sort of sensory overload.  Just the thought of so many foods made my stomach turn.  The foods I do eat taste off - the worst is water.  I love water and I need to drink a lot of it, but every sip tastes and smells like dirty chalk.  I know it doesn't seem like a big thing, but when you're already feeling quesy... I've been taking Prednisone every day since last wednesday to complete the chemo round and these pills are so nasty.  Even after I wrap them up in a fruit roll-up so I can swallow them, they haunt me a few hours later when everything I eat tastes like the bitter bitter powder they are made of.

But all of that to say, I think I've been spared of much.  A lot of people can't stop retching for the first few days and I haven't done it once.  Some people get this horrible pin prick pain in their mouth for days and I haven't.  I've tried to be diligent to brush my teeth, wash my hands, and take my medicines (even though I know I'm not a model student).  I am hoping the worst is over for this cycle.  I can't even begin to think about going back in again for another round.  I don't know how people do this and continue working or taking care of their families.  I don't know how you would do anything but sit and stare and wait.

Today I talked on the phone.  I've put together two jigsaw puzzles.  I sleep, I eat a little (almonds, noodles, cereal, rice, bread), I brush my teeth, I sit, I take a bath, I take a nap, I eat a little, I brush my teeth.  I am so thankful to be able to be so incredibly selfish.  I know it's been hard for Danny, I can't imagine how hard, but we are just trying the best we can to figure out how to do this.  I have yet to find the instruction manual on "How to laugh through Chemotherapy while lovin' life!"  The fact is that this is painfully real and unimaginably difficult and I was not prepared.  We weren't prepared.  How do you possibly prepare for this?

I am so thankful for all of you out there that are helping to carry the burden, that are sending prayers up to the great Healer and Comforter for me, who make it your business to check in and graciously allow me to preserve my words and my strength for another time, who I know are fighting for my health and my joy on a daily basis in the simple ways that you love me so well.  Please, I beg you, keep it up - I now have a taste of how much more may be required of me as the weeks go by and it is so so frightening.  We are struggling, blindly trying to make sense of something that doesn't make sense.  Trying to fit something into our lives we never welcomed in.      

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Chemo - First try

VICTORIOUS! Miracle of miracles, today went very very well.  Praise the Lord!  Thank you thank you thank you for all of the prayers, texts, emails, and calls of support.  I am so well loved.

We got to the office at 8:30, got blood work done, went back to a different room, spoke to a RN that answered some questions for us, then on to the chemo room.  The fishhook went into my port around quarter to 10.  They started with some anti-nausea medicine, benedryl, and anti-anxiety medicine, which took about a half hour to get in.  The next 5ish hours was getting the first chemo drug in, Rituxin.  I had a minor reaction to it (itchy skin, red cheeks, closing ariway) so they gave me more bendryll and we took a break for a while.  The rest of the rituxin was fine going in, as were the remaining 4 drugs.  The worst part of the day was taking 2 of the most bitter disgusting pills on the planet - not bad for a day in the cancer ward.  The best part of the day was my nurse Rebecca - she was so wonderful and made me feel completely taken care of.  She answered all of my questions and spent time tucking in my feet with blanket, perfect.  I spent the first two hours sleeping, the next few watching shows on hulu, and the last bit talking with Danny and Rebecca.  We were finally done around 6:30.

Danny and I stopped by Earthfare on the way home to pick up some items to help me get through the next few weeks.  Now I'm sitting on the couch, watching Downton Abbey, and sadly waiting for the sickness to come.  I feel ok, but my head is heavy and medicine-y and I'm feeling very strange.  I'm hoping my many anti-nausea pills will keep it at bay.  My nurse said that I should be prepared for the worse because since I'm young, female, and have motion sickness I'm already pre-disposed to sickness.  I'm just so grateful that this day hasn't been tainted by it - it's one more day well and in high spirits than I originally thought I would get.  

Update at 3:30am - I started feeling sick around 11pm.  I went from ok and strange straight to wet throw up mouth and tears.  I took some medicine which is this gel you put on your wrists, which helped a lot.  I fell alseep but woke up around 3:15.  I still have steriods in my system, so I think their trying to keep me awake.  my stomach is ok, but I just took another medicine for nausea and eating to 4 almonds required to help the medicine agree with my stomach was torture.  Even reading what I wrote about yesterday makes me nauseated.  I have a feeling this is the beginning of a rough few days.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

The day before the first chemo

I have been jittery and weird all day.  I can't believe the countdown to starting chemo is almost over.  Tomorrow I'll be in a chair, surrounded by sick people, getting chemo dumped into my port.  I still struggle with the idea that I have cancer, that I'm one of those sick people now.  I don't feel sick, I feel fine.  Why do I have to do this?  There is a huge disconnect somewhere in my brain.  Everything is so surreal right now.  Tonight I will meet Danny for one last yummy meal together, drive home, do some laundry, and pack a bag for treatment tomorrow.  I have this nervous energy that is making me over-analyze every detail (kind of like I'm going on a strangely awful blind date)  I want to wear sandals, but what if my feet get cold?  Should I bring socks?  And I should wear a v-neck so they can get to my port easily, but my favorite one is dirty so I guess I need to clean it tonight.  Should I wear a hat or would that look weird?  I guess not since it is a cancer ward.  What if people want to talk to me?  What if I cry?  What if I get sick?  I guess I'll know soon.

Yesterday I got an amazing surprise in the mail - my MIL made me quilt.  It's perfect.  It's got bright yellow and soft gray blocks and a super cozy lemon backing.  All over it she embroidered verses of encouragement, which must have taken forever.  I'm so thankful to have something soft, warm, and distinctly mine to take into chemo tomorrow and wrap up in.  And then today I got a new friend in the mail - Neebo!!  There is a long story behind my mom making me Neebo and it starts with his friend Fernihurst, whom Danny and I met on our wedding weekend.  Neebo is a timid little guy that signed up to brave chemo with me.  He's awesome and I'm so thankful he got here on time.  My mom is becming a professional muppeteer!  I'll also be decked out in my blue and white striped scarf so I'll be matchy-matchy with one of my favorite people Beth.  I may be sitting through chemo, but at least I'll be surrounded by love.  Here are the kitties with my chemo "suit of armor":

Amos

Charlie

See, Neebo is already making friends!  Well, I have no idea how tomorrow will go so please pray for us.  I will update you when I have the strength.  

Monday, May 28, 2012

VA CA!

Wow, I feel like I've been gone for a year!  Just got back from Gatlinburg on Saturday and it was AWESOME!  I realized once we got there that this is the first time Danny and I have taken a trip together just to take a trip together.  We weren't visiting family, there weren't any friends to stop in and say hello to, we had no schedule, no time restraints, and only vague ideas of what to do.  Which is what I will recommend to anyone who wants to take a truly chill vacation.  We had a really great room in a hotel at the end of the strip and walked a TON!  It felt so good to get out and really stretch my legs for the first time in months.  We played putt-putt (I won, no big deal), ate the largest stromboli on the planet, went swimming, looked in Ripley's Believe it or not, and logged a lot of hours reading, watching Say Yes to the Dress, and napping.  We capped it all off on the last day with a visit to the Aquarium and the Dixie Stampede, which were two of the coolest things I've ever done!  The Aquarium was incredible - there was a long walkway where sharks, giant sea turtles, and sting rays swam right next to your face and about a foot over your head!  And then lets not even get started on the penguins!  I'm pretty sure Danny would still be there if our feet hadn't been killing us.  The world is such a beautiful and eclectic place - I saw crabs big enough for a toddler to ride, tiny neon blue, green, and yellow frogs, eels straight out of The Little Mermaid (completely disgusting), and the most beautiful jellyfishes ever.  Really extraordinary.  AND THEN WE WENT TO DIXIE STAMPEDE!!  Okay, so I'm willing to admit that it could be considered cheesy by some and they may have gotten a little carried away with lights, sequins, and glitter sewn into their costumes, but I couldn't help but have a rip-roarin' good time!  The food was exceptional and you got a lot of it.  We watched a lady ride around standing on two horses and a lumberjack literally launch himself straight up a pole like a puma and watched all of these trick riders dazzle and amaze.  I was SO into it.  The best part of Gatlinburg was that it was mostly untainted by cancer.  Thank you so much for all of the prayers for us to have a good time - it seems like a little thing, but it was just what we needed.  I had a couple of breakdowns when I just became overwhelmed with what was to come, but they were short and I was easily distracted (we ate a lot of ice cream :) ).

Today we had a chemo cleaning party!  Woohoo!!  I am indebted to some really incredible friends who volunteered to come over at help Danny and I deep clean every square inch of our home.  Now I can go into chemo knowing that I have a clean and hygenic place to come home to.  We started at 11 and worked through until 2:30ish.  People were on their hands and knees, scrubbing our floor, sweating and red faced.  What an incredible labor of love.  We are so thankful - there is no way we would have had the steam to do all of it by ourselves even half as well.  After we were done and I took a long cool shower, we went to a really fun (and beautifully decorated) party.  A great day all in all.

Tomorrow is my last day before chemo.  I have to work 11-7, but I'm hoping to have time that night to just relax and get ready.  

Monday, May 21, 2012

Radiation's over!

Today has been a little bit better.  I've found that I like my haircut when I'm wearing a hat - thankfully when a thick piece of material covers 90% of my head it's not so bad.  Yay for focusing on the positives!  Never mind that it's almost summer and wearing a winter hat may not be socially acceptable (or climate-ly responsible).  I may be a sweat ball salad, but at least I'll look cute, right?  Right?

I have been really surprised by some rude comments I've gotten today about my hair.  I guess surprised isn't the word - after working in the hospitality field, people don't really surprise me anymore.  I'm more confused.  Earlier someone saw my haircut and said "Oh my gosh, I don't know how you stand short hair!  I would absolutely HATE it!"  When I told this person that I had to cut it because I will be starting chemo soon, she replied "Well, if I had cancer I would get a wig.  There's no way I could look like that."  Why would anyone think that would be kind or good?  I think people are just blissfully selfish and don't think how their words affect others.  It blows my mind.  Thankfully I'm less fragile today and it simply amuses me as a shocking example of how ridiculous people are.

Today was my last day of radiation.  It was easy, just as the other treatments have been, but as I left I had to stop and pick up some paperwork from the nurse's station before I left.  They printed off this certificate that says I've earned the Purple Heart Award for making it through radiation.  It was an incredibly silly piece of paper, but I felt like it might mean something to someone who really struggled through their treatments.  I was insanely undeserving because I skipped lightly through radiation, simply showing up and quickly feeling better.  The first big cancer chapter is closed, only to be quickly followed by the next big cancer chapter - chemo.  Not that it's on my mind at all…  Super excited to peel off my leg stickers tonight!

During my 10 hour shifts the past few days I have been reading my mom's book!  If you didn't know, my mom is an incredibly interesting person and taught middle school English for 30 some years.  She has always wanted to write a book and now, after years of laboring, she has produced one!  It is still in it's very first draft and I am lucky enough to get to take a peek.  I will tell you all how wonderful it is later because right now I have to get back to reading it!

Sunday, May 20, 2012

The haircut.

This past weekend was a whirlwind.  Yesterday, I finally took the plunge and cut my hair.  It felt different than I thought it would.  My hairdresser was named Ron and he was awesome.  He listened to what I wanted and patiently cut layer by layer.  I thought it wouldn't be a big deal, but I was surprised to see myself becoming more and more bitter throughout the process.  Every time my mom or Beth would tell me how cute the cut was or how great it was coming along, I quickly told them I didn't like it.  I seriously failed to embrace the adventure of it all or see the silver lining.  The cut came out cute, it really did, and I wouldn't mind it a bit on someone else.  But the simple fact that I didn't want to cut my hair and yet I had to cut my hair made me hate it.  Something happens when we become adults and we realize that we very rarely have to do anything we don't want to do.  It is absolutely infuriating when we are forced into something we can not say no to.  That's where I was on Saturday.  When it was finished, I forced a smile and hugged Ron, because he was so gracious and wonderful.  We picked up our stuff, took some obligatory pictures, said good-bye and thank you.  I walked out the door and lost it.  I'm horrible at being mad.  My anger quickly overwhelms me and I always end up weepy.  Which is, of course, what happened.  I cried on Beth's shoulder and repeated over and over that I hated it.  Then I was mad at myself for being upset over something as stupid as hair.  Then I was even more angry at myself because I made my mom cry.  I need to try harder not to cry in front of my mom - I know it's horrible for her to see and even more horrible knowing that she can't make this better.  We left to meet up with my husband where I quickly dissolved into tears again.  He seems to honestly love the haircut, which I'm so thankful for, because I was so afraid that he wouldn't.  The rest of the day was spent in Asheville buying super cute barrettes (the only redeeming feature of the cut) and avoiding mirrors.  I hate that I spent the last day with my parents and the entire lunch with Beth thinking about myself, what a waste.  


The haircut has had a very strange effect on me.  I have cut my hair almost this short in the past and back then it definitely didn't look this good, but I was proud and excited to show it off.  It's hard to explain, but right now I'm almost embarrassed.  Going in to work today, I avoided as many people as I could and I wished with all my might that the people I did see wouldn't comment on it.  Of course they did and they said really kind things to me, but I just want to live in a world where it didn't happen and I don't start chemo soon and cancer doesn't exist.  Writing that I see that it's probably not the healthiest way to deal with this, but I just feel too fragile, too sad, too tired to talk about this in a real way with people I love or fake apathy with people I don't know well.  A weight has descended on me and it now seems like my life has been colored by cancer.  It's always there, in the back of my mind.  I am now constantly worried about chemo and how sick I'll be.  Every time I get a headache or my stomach hurts a little, I think of how much worse it may be and how easily I'll crumble under it.  This isn't like me, I'm not a worry wart, especially about physical things.  It just seems like with the haircut, the countdown has tangibly begun.  I'm terrified.  I know it's not a good excuse, but this is why I haven't been acting like myself, why I seem distracted or uninvolved in conversation, why I easily become tired or overwhelmed.  I hate it and I am so sorry.

Danny and I leave for our mini vacation on Wednesday.  More than anything, I would ask for prayers for freedom and joy.  I so want to enjoy this time but I am afraid that this dark cloud will follow us there  and continue turning me into a quiet, flat, detached woman.  This isn't who I am or who I was meant to be.  Help me fight this tendency to worry and reclaim the joy I have in Christ.  Let my last few days before chemo be marked by reckless abandon, giggles, inside jokes, glorious freedom, kitchy tourist traps, and radical, permeating, uplifting love.  I pray that peace comes and reigns in my heart, that I would turn my eyes from myself and look to love others, that the week ahead prepares me for the months to come so I would be equipped and ready.  Thank you so much for your forgiveness when I don't deserve it and your strength that carries me forward.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Two weeks

Today we finally got the start date for chemo - the 30th.  Two weeks from today.  Danny and I asked the doctor if we could put off starting until after our vacation of the century to Gatlinburg and he was awesomely accommodating.  I go in at 8:30am and I'm scheduled to be there for the subsequent 8 hours (although it may take less time).  Something else Dr. Lamb said was that we may not need all 6-8 rounds of chemo - we might knock it out with just 3-4!  BUT we would have to do a PETscan to confirm all of the cancer is gone after that third or fourth dose and evidently it is nearly impossible to get insurance companies to pay for a PETscan halfway through the proposed treatment.  Isn't that ridiculous!  I may have to get up to 5 extra doses of poison that I don't need simply because my insurance won't pay for a test.  But, I'm thankful to have insurance and that's still a long way away - who knows what will happen.  No use in getting too feisty until later on. 

I had a super duper awesome amazing time with Julie - here's a picture to prove it:
This was at 8am (which I know is a normal time for most people but it's like TORTURE for us) but we are still smiling because we were about to get donuts and we were together.  Ahhh. 

Now I have my mom and stepdad coming in tomorrow and all the fun with them to look forward to!  I think we are going to have a girls night out to see The Lucky One at the movies (hello Mr. grown-up Efron!) and then have an adventure down to Asheville to get my hair chopped off on Saturday!  One of my favorite people Beth, who lives in Asheville, just got her hair cut and says it was that best cut she's ever gotten.  She was talking to the stylist about me and he mentioned that he has experience cutting women's hair short to prepare for chemo.  He actually said that it would be an honor to cut my hair.  Haha, we'll see if he changes his tune after meeting me.  ;)  From what I hear he is a quiet, bald, Harley Davidson rider that's been in the biz for 28 years.  I'm TOTALLY jazzed - this will be nothing short of phenominal!  No worries - I will post pics of the new do as soon as I get it done!

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Jimmy Johns boy

It is SO good to have Julie here.  It's such a gift and a joy to have friends like her - she makes it so easy for me to be myself.  We stopped for lunch at Jimmy Johns today on our way to radiation and starting chatting it up with the guy at the cash register.  Somehow it came up that Julie and I had been in the Navy and we found out he had been in the Army.  He asked us how long we had been out and I said that it will be four years at the end of this month.  That's right people, on May 31st the Navy will no longer be able to call me back into active duty.  The cashier laughed and said that he could be called back too.  Then he added "I won't be much good to them though with this cancer.  They'll probably ask me to come back while I'm on my deathbed." He laughed, we laughed, and walked down to get our orders.  Then Julie and I looked at each other and realized what was just said.  Did he really just say he has cancer?  I wonder what kind he has.  He doesn't look sick - is he just waiting to start chemo like me?  Is it a cancer that really will take him to his deathbed?  Do I sound that nonchalant when I casually bring up my cancer in conversation?  Our interest had been piqued.  We tried going back up to talk to him again after we got our sandwiches, but a line had formed and he was helping another guest.  We lingered for a while, went back and forth deciding whether to talk to him or not, and finally left because we were running late to get to my radiation appointment.  He probably thought we thought he was super cute and wanted his number or something because we kept lurking in the background, looking at him, and getting embarrassed and laughing.  I'm ridiculous.  But how do you really start that conversation?  "So I thought I just heard you say cancer - funny thing - I've got it too!" or "Wanna compare ports?" or "Are you looking into funeral homes?"  You really never know what someone else is facing.  I might go back sometime soon to talk to him - it might be fun to know someone else here going through the same thing.  


Appointment early in the morning so I'm heading to bed.  I should have the chemo schedule by noon tomorrow.

Monday, May 14, 2012

50/50

Last night Danny & I watched 50/50.  It has Joseph Gordon-Levitt playing a 27 year-old who is suddenly diagnosed with a rare type of cancer and follows him through treatment.  If you can overlook the copious and unnecessary swearing from Seth Rogan, it's actually a great movie to watch if you have a friend that has cancer (like me!)  If you're the one that has cancer, it's probably not the best choice.  A little too close to home.  They hit the nail on the head on a lot of issues.  First, just the total suddenness and absurdity of the diagnosis.  He had pain in his back and got some tests and found out he had cancer.  It's the same thing that happened to me.  Pain in my leg, we assumed it was because I had gained weight and had a dramatic change in my level of exercise, had some tests, found out it was cancer.  What?!  It's something you never expect and something you're never prepared for.  There was a scene when they threw a party for the main guy after he got the news and there was a little montage of people coming up to talk to him.  Everyone started the conversation with something like "So when are you starting chemo?" or "I had an uncle that had what you had" which, insanely, is exactly what happens.  All of a sudden every verbal exchange has to start and end with cancer, especially with people who never really spoke to you before but now feel obligated to because you're sick.

Another thing in the movie was that a lot of people kept telling him "Don't worry, you're going to be ok." At one point he gets mad and asks why everyone is so scared to say that he might die, that things won't turn out ok.  Because for him it's a huge possibility.  I hear it all of the time.  Thankfully for me, it is likely that I will eventually be ok but it is so annoying for other people to kind of gloss over cancer and radiation and chemo and all of the horrors that come with it by saying "Don't worry, it's gonna be ok."  But wait a second, I AM worried.  And I feel like it's understandable for me to be worried.  I'm worried that I'm going to get really sick and I won't be able to work.  I'm worried that my husband and my mom and my friends will get tired of being around and taking care of a miserable version of myself.  I'm worried that I won't wash my hands enough or brush my teeth enough or eat the right things to make me better.  And if we look closely, there really isn't anything about this that's ok.  It's a poison in my body that I have to fight by putting more poison in my body.  I really do understand why people say this.  It's not always because it's uncomfortable to sit with someone in their pain.  I think it's sometimes because people love me and they don't want this cancer to be a constant presence in my life.  They want me to be happy and healthy and "ok".  They don't want to see me suffer - not because it inconveniences them but because their heart hurts for me.  And I do appreciate that sentiment.  It just seems that all too often when I begin to share some of my fears with someone, they end up dismissing them with that cringe-worthy generic statement.

Over the past few days I've figured out another great thing about cancer - it's kind of lit a fire under my butt to do those things that I've been putting off.  Of course this will go immediately out the window when I start feeling sick, but right now I'm super motivated to do a lot of things that I love, but never seem to have time for.  This includes: playing the piano, singing, doing pilates, reading the Bible, crafting, and spending time with friends.  My job right now gives me a little freedom to do some fun things between answering calls - like write this blog post and make some fun hand-crafted cards.  It's one thing I will definitely miss when I go back to MOD.  Cancer re-prioritizes your life pretty quickly.  You all of a sudden realize that it would be horrible to die, but it would be even more horrible to continue to live not doing things that give you life.  This past year has been hard for me and I have let some things go so I could focus on learning my new job and invest in my new marriage.  I've recently decided that it's totally unacceptable for me to continue forward without music in my life.  I will never be the best singer or composer or piano player, but it brings me joy and brings me closer to God.  Speaking of God, I think a lot of people have known that I've been pretty spiritually dry since moving to Elizabethton.  The apathy that has grown up in me toward spending time in the Word, praying, and seeking out true fellowship is really sad.  For a long time I blamed it on moving away from my church in Asheville, a place where I felt totally free and accepted, but the truth is that I didn't put much effort in at all to make it work here.  I know this might sound crazy to some, but I would choose cancer yesterday, today, and again tomorrow if it helps me back to God.  I would rather die of cancer close to my Lord than live a long life far away from Him.  It is so easy to go day to day and get wrapped up in urgent things that aren't really important - I don't want to do that anymore.

Julie is driving to see me right now (YAYAYAYAYAY!!!!), we have radiation and the weekly check-up with the radiation doctor tomorrow, work tomorrow night, and then back to the oncologist's office on Wednesday morning at 8:30.  I am antsy to get to Wednesday, I want to know when chemo will start.  I've been waiting to cut my hair, hire a cleaning crew, and submit leave of absence forms at work until right before chemo.  I just want it to be settled and started.  The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over.  I'll let you know what we find out.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Not especially cancerous

I'm sorry I haven't been as consistent about blogging lately - I know all of you are just dying without a constant stream of thoughts from me.  I have been trying to be a good girl and write thank yous to all of the people who have taken the time to send us all sorts of wonderful things.  Since I'm pretty sure I have a cap of about 500 words a day that come together actually sounding good and making sense, I haven't had a lot left over to delight and thrill you on the blog.  That, plus I really haven't been feeling very cancerous lately - no debilitating pain, no lose of hair, no scary warnings of my future.  And if we're really honest, we know that the cancer is the only really interesting part of my life right now so that leaves me without much to write.

Sadly I am not acting MOD tonight.  On Wednesday and Thursday I walked more than I have in a long time, trying to see if my previous role as MOD was physically possible for me.  The nights went well, I was able to perform up to the task at hand, but the dull ache in my leg when I woke up the next two mornings was enough to make me nervous.  The last thing I want to do is mess up my leg again right before family comes to visit, we go on our little getaway, and then chemo.  I also feel a little strange going back as MOD before knowing how I'll respond to chemo.  I hate the idea of stepping back into my MOD role, getting sick, and then having to bow out again.  I don't think most people would probably care, but it matters to me.  I'm kind of an all or nothing type of girl.  Thankfully my boss is awesome enough to indulge my stubbornness.  I continue to be more and more involved in different areas of the hotel on every shift, but I think it may still be a while until I'm comfortable as MOD again.

The biggest thing on my heart lately has been the gay marriage debate.  Obviously it's big in the news right now and it hurts my heart that it is dividing so many people.  I'm the first person to tell you that I'm not very educated on the issue and I've never been particularly politically-minded, so I'm not going to dive into what I think and why I think what I think.  That's not really what this blog is about anyway.  But it is something that has been weighing on me heavily lately and I hate that peace between the parties on this issue seems impossible.  I have friends that I care about deeply on both sides of the issue and I find myself listening to a lot of fired up, genuinely well-intentioned people for and against gay marriage.  Like cancer, I think the debate points to how broken this world is.  We try the best that we can to do good things, but we're only people and we're often foolish and selfish and majorly flawed.  Everyone was made to be beautifully different, but instead of celebrating that we spend so much of our time tearing each other down, blindly backing stereotypes, and focusing the majority of our energy on ourselves.  I'm as guilty as the next person and it makes me incredibly sad. 

I do have some really fun things coming up, which I mentioned above!  One of my favorite people Julie is coming for a quick visit at the beginning of next week, which is SO exciting!  She is so laid back and it's so easy to be around her, I can't wait to be together.  On Wednesday morning we have the big cancer doctor appointment - this will be the one that tells us when we will start chemo.  Then my mom and step-dad come into town on Thursday for the weekend - yippee!  And hopefully the following week will be our little getaway to Gatlinburg (pending when chemo starts).  A lot of great things to look forward to - be SO jealous!  I will write play by plays as all of the adventures unfold...

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

New look

I continue to think about cutting my hair.  Just the other day I saw how many gray hairs have grown in since last year and realized it was about time to dye it again.  Then I remembered that it wouldn't really make a difference in a couple of weeks, which made me laugh to myself.  Saving money on hair dye, just another reason cancer is great.  :)  I am conflicted with what to do with my hair.  Originally I was just going to buzz cut it because I didn't want to watch it fall out in clumps.  Plus, I've heard from other cancer survivors and through my poison class that it actually hurts when the follicles fall out of the scalp.  The shorter the hair is, the less it hurts.  If I wasn't working, I think I would totally stick to this plan.  But, I don't really want to rock a buzz cut when I'm working as a manager.  If I'm greeting people or working with someone to resolve an issue, I want the attention to be on them, not me.  I think having such a radical hairstyle will confuse some.  I don't really want to walk around with scarves covering up my head either - it just doesn't jive with the Marriott image.  Also, losing long strands of hair near large plates of food doesn't seem to be the best idea.  I already have a ton of complaints to deal with, I don't want to create any more!  Now there will come a time when scarves and weird looks will be unavoidable, but in the beginning it may serve me better just to get a short pixie cut.  At least then people might think it was something I've chosen to do with my hair.  I'm thinking something like Ginnifer Goodwin's cut - you can check it out here: http://www.imdb.com/media/rm1212003328/nm0329481 I know, it's pretty much a man's hair cut, but I still think it's a little bit better than a buzz.  What do you all think?

I got out from my hole tonight at work for about 2 hours to help in room service and the bar.  I'm trying to see if my leg can handle the extra movement.  I had a few pangs throughout the night, but all in all it was pretty successful.  I'm nervous to push too hard and be in pain again, but I also really want to be back as MOD.  I'll continue to monitor how the leg reacts.  If it's going to hurt, it will hurt tonight, probably right around the time I'll be wanting to fall asleep.  Awesome.  We'll see!



Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Back to normal. Kind-of.

I haven't written the past few days because I just feel so good.  I feel like myself.  I feel back to normal.  It's like the cancer doesn't even exist.  I haven't really given it much thought.  What an incredible blessing.  Danny and I spent the weekend going to the movies (The Avengers - SO MUCH FUN!), eating together, taking care of the cats, cleaning the house, entertaining guests, and just enjoying life together.  It's the first time in a long time I've had the motivation and desire to do much of anything.  I've also made a new friend this week and it's given me so much joy!  I'm so thankful that even in the most difficult of situations there is always potential for a gift to come out of the blue to make things just a little bit better.    

On Monday my boss asked me if I thought I could stand MOD on Friday.  What exactly is an MOD?  Well, the MOD (Manager On Duty) is the person that kind of takes over for the General Manager and Assistant General Manager when they go home for the evening.  If anyone in any area is upset about something after 5pm and asks to speak to the Manager, they'll talk to the MOD.  The MOD also has to be able to direct the staff in any type of emergency and help out in any area that is overwhelmed.  MOD is the job I was hired for and the job I've missed doing since being moved in the back to answer phones while on crutches.  Anyway, I might be back this week!  Very exciting!  I'm going to try and walk a little more every day this week to build up some endurance.  Being MOD is no joke and I don't want to wimp out in the middle of it.

Today marked the halfway point of my radiation.  My improvement continues to amaze me.  Thank you so much for the continued prayers, notes of encouragement, thoughts, and packages sent my way.  It makes such a huge difference.  I see so many people at radiation that aren't responding half as well as I am without half of the support.  Thank you thank you thank you.



Friday, May 4, 2012

Short hair

Okay, so I'm not 100% yet.  Tonight I walked a little too much and am feeling a little ache in my leg, but nothing major.  I'll be more careful, I swear.  ;)

What's really starting to get to me is this impending chemo.  While we're talking about it, who the heck named it chemoTHERAPY?  I don't think it will be a very therapeutic process, do you?  Talk about false advertising...  Anyway, every one who has seen me walking around without crutches today and yesterday have been so happy for me. They immediately exclaim "Look at you!  You must be getting better!" and I am.  To them it's a relief because my leg is healing, I don't have a pained expression on my face anymore, and it seems like the hard part is over.  But to me, this is just the beginning.  I haven't even started the hard part.  And to know that their joy is so short lived sucks.  I am dreading the confused look I'll see on their faces when I come back in without any hair and weak.  I know they'll be thinking "But I thought she was getting better…"  I hate that I will become the bearer of bad news by my mere presence.  If you know me, you know that I really hate feeling stupid and I really hate disappointing people.  This would be an example of the latter.  Honestly, I don't care about losing my hair.  I've cut it very short in the past - it was a horrible, horrible decision, but it really wasn't a big deal.  It always grows back, thank the good Lord.  What I DO care about is the inevitable way my mom's face will fall when she will see me with it gone.  Or the many many sympathetic cooings I will get from the Southern women at church because they'll know I'm sick.  It will be the first big sign of cancer and it will be unavoidable.  Not that I don't love attention, because we all know that I do.  But I want people to want to talk to me because I'm fun and real and enthusiastic and competitive, not because I look sad and weak and cancer-y.  I am so thankful my leg is feeling better and that I have gotten relief from that constant pain, but sometimes I wish that I could have just started chemo right away before I know what I was really getting into.  Now every day I'm getting better and every day I'm getting closer to getting worse.  I'm kind of stuck not really knowing what to do with that.


To prove that short hair isn't the best look for me, here's a little peeksie from my past:
I'm the third man from the left.  Danny says I look like Harry Potter.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

I love my legs!

Today is my second day without any medication (except the largest Vitamin C pill known to man for this weird throat thing I'm getting) and my first full day without crutches.  IT FEELS AWESOME!  Just to be able to carry something in my hand and walk at the same time seems like the most liberating experience I've had in months!  I can't believe that it was only 2 weeks ago that I was popping up to 12 Ibuprofens, 4 Lortabs, and 2 nausea pills a day.  Seriously, radiation treatments have been nothing short of miraculous for me.  My leg has no pain the majority of the time and only has little stings when I stand in the same place for an extended period.  It has been very difficult throughout this to bend my knee at all and now I can bend it without pain a little past 90 degrees.  I know I'm not 100%, but holy cow, look how far I've come with just 6 treatments!!  I have 12 more to go and I will be thankful for every last one. 

I've had a busy day today and it has reminded me how inactive I've become since my leg has really started hurting.  I'm exhausted!  This morning my husband preached a sermon at his school for their chapel service.  He is currently in his third year of Seminary and is doing incredibly well (although he would never tell you that - he's the most humble person I know).  I've never been to one of their chapels and I rarely get to hear him preach, so I asked if I could tag along.  I almost ditched when I realized we would have to wake up at 8am to get there on time (we like to keep teenager hours in the Yencich home - get to sleep by 2am-ish, never wake up before 11am), but I somehow got myself in gear.  There was a pretty good crowd there and I'm almost positive that Danny made every single one of them tear up.  It was an incredibly moving sermon and it was beautifully delivered by my sweet husband that loves me so much.  It talks a lot about what his reaction to my cancer has been and how brutal that has been for his faith.  If you are interested in giving it a look-see, you can read it on his blog here:
http://dmyencich.wordpress.com/2012/05/03/of-the-old-time-the-new-time-demons-and-cancer-chapel-sermon-532012/

Everyone that I met there was incredibly kind (of course I'm sure the moving sermon about my cancer softened them up a bit).  It's great to see Danny in his community of scholars and thriving there.  It's also nice to know that they are caring and supportive people too, even though they intimidate the hell out of me.  They'll say something like "hmmm.. this exegesis has so many ecclesiastical implications.  what do you think?" and I'm like "i like porridge".  I'm hoping they attribute my lack of depth to the cancer.  Hey!  That sounds like another benefit!  #14 (maybe?) You can blame every stupid thing you say to the stress of having cancer.  I met one of his professors who is a lymphoma survivor and talked a little bit.  He gave me some scary details about the chemo (like evidently the needle they use to put the poison in my port is like a big fishhook?  Excuse me?!) but it was nice to hear some real stories about cancer from someone who's been through it and come out the other side. 

Went home, took a little nap, Danny made us fish sandwiches, my friend Alison came over for a lunch date, I drove to radiation, talked to my mom on the phone a bit, and went to work.  On my break I took a slow and cautious stroll outside and around the hotel, just because I could.  The fullest and most wonderful day I've had in a while.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

A weighty issue haha


I thought you all might want to see what the radiation room looked like, so I snapped a picture before my treatment today!  Exciting!!  

You can see the table I lay on over to the left and with my strange leg mold on top.  Once I lay down, the table lifts up and the techs pull me under the machine, lining up my robot legs with the red robot lines coming from the circular part.  Then they leave the room.  The only way I know that anything is happening is because a loud buzzing noise goes on for about 15 seconds to signify the machine is on.  Then the whole machine flips upside down (so the round piece is below me) and it buzzes for another 15 seconds.  As it flips back up, the techs come back in and lower the table.  That's it!  It's actually a little disappointing.  No flickering laser light show, no audible screams from the tumor.  Oh well, you can't argue with the results!

I wish I had something super meaningful to talk about, but the thing that has been on my mind lately is my weight.  I know, gross.  This is the biggest I have ever been in my life.  When I got married last year around this time, I was 30 pounds lighter.  THIRTY POUNDS!!!  Talk about wedded bliss!  I have definitely over celebrated my new relationship status.  I had recommitted to sticking with Weight Watchers to slim down for Jeff and Laura's wedding just about two weeks before we learned about the cancer.  Now in radiation, I'm not allowed to lose any weight (which I initially celebrated by immediately eating a large Chick-fil-A meal and then, of course, regretted).  Radiation and chemo both could potentially make me lose weight (or gain weight - TERRIFYING) and make me unable to fight the cancer as well, so it's important to be as rotund as possible when you start.  But of course, as soon as they told me I couldn't lose weight, that's all I've been wanting to do.  It's just strange.  When you walk around in your daily life and maybe you're a bit bigger than you want to be, you know that you have the option at any point to shed some pounds.  In the past when I would go clothes shopping and found something just a little tight, I would always think to myself "Well, I'm sure I'll fit into this soon!  I just need to lose 5 lbs and I can do that easy!"  You never imagine yourself next year, or the year after, or 5 years from then looking the same way as you currently do.  But usually, that's how it works (unless you actually succeed in kicking your butt in gear - major props to the inspiring women in my life who have done that!).  But now I am forced to look at myself and know that I could potentially be just as big as I am now in December.  I could even be bigger!  And all of a sudden, the sole pair of jeans I fit into that have been enough for the past year (because I'm sure I'll slim down soon) doesn't seem like enough anymore.  It's crazy how your perspective changes.    

What I CAN do is begin to eat more proteins and veggies and such.  Not only will I feel better, but I'll also give my body more nutrients to fight with.  It's been much easier while I've been off my feet to microwave meals here and there and I've found that my husband and I are buying food we never have before just for the sake of convenience.  I'm thinking the Kraft mac + cheese packs and ramen noodles probably have to go (even though they are SO good).  Sometimes it's hard to make good choices when in my mind I'm thinking "Well, I already have cancer.  What's a cheeseburger gonna do?"  And I do know that the little extra padding I've stored because I love my husband so much may just be the thing that keeps me from getting tremendously ill throughout this process.  So have to be grateful and just dream about kicking my butt into gear after all of this mess is over.  I don't want to be stuck at a sucky weight again!  

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Cancer friends :)

Today I made my first cancer friends.  It was weird.  I went into my radiation appointment, as usual, and the same people have the same appointments every day.  We all sit in this back area together, waiting to be called in.  Today there was only one other person in the waiting area, a woman sitting working on a puzzle on the table, and I recognized her from yesterday.  I made the comment "You haven't finished that yet?" as I crutched by, smiling, trying to be friendly.  She replied, "No. I could use some help."  Just like that.  I went over and started talking.  Her name is Brenda and her husband has lung cancer for the second time, this time spreading tumors through his rib bones.  I can't imagine facing this more than once.  He's doing the same thing as me - radiation for pain relief and then chemo.  She was surprised I was the one here for treatment.  She hadn't seen anyone else my age at radiation (I haven't either).  When her husband came out, I saw what a cute couple they are together.  Even though his hands are too shake-y to pick up a puzzle piece, she kept asking for his help looking for pieces and tried her best to make him feel involved.  They shared with me how difficult it has been to make the payments on their insurance (he can't work and she has to take care of him, so they've stayed on COBRA), how heartbreaking it was to learn that the cancer had returned, and what a hard time they've had finding good medical care (it took them 6 months to diagnose the cancer). 

After they were called away, another patient and family sat nearby - a grandmother, grandfather, and their 3 year old grandson Alex.  The grandmother was the one to go in for radiation and her husband confided in me that she is refusing chemo and she's getting worse.  He doesn't expect her to live much longer.  Heartbreaking.  Alex was a trip - he liked me right away and soon was sitting on my lap "playing the puzzle game".  I told him he was a smart kid and he replied "Well, I think you're a smart kid too."  When I was called in to speak with my doctor, he yelled out "See ya later dinosaur!"  Super cute.   
    
It seems like everything in the radiation oncology waiting area is tinged a little with sadness.  Even when I am unexpectedly blessed by a little boy named Alex, I can't help but remember that his grandmother will likely die soon.  Even when I am touched by an older couple working on a puzzle together, I can't help but remember how difficult their life must be.  The very reason I am sitting in this space and speaking to these people is because I have cancer. But I also have to remember how lucky I am.  I won't die from this and Danny and I have so much support from so many people.  I have an incredible job and an incredible boss and work for an incredible company that will fight for me to keep my benefits and as many hours as I can manage.  We won't come out of this rich, but I believe that we will make it through without going to the poor house, simply through God's provision and the great generosity of many many people - to which we are speechless and humbled.  I can never forget how lucky I am.  Especially while sitting around so many others at the radiation clinic that have so many more things piled against them.

I do have one bit of good news.  Today my radiation doctor said that on my PET scan it looked like all of the fractures in the bone had healed from when I had the MRI.  He also said that he couldn't see any interior bone deterioration from the tumor on the scan.  So, once the pain in my leg has completely subsided, I shouldn't have to use my crutches anymore!  Since it already feels better, he said I could begin walking around the house without them and testing whether it makes the area more painful.  So excited.  I may get back to managing at work sooner than I had hoped! 

Thankful for another dose of radiation.  Thankful for a full night's sleep.  Thankful for 8 hours at work.  Thankful for hope to be crutch-free.  Thankful for the perspective my new friends gave me.  

Monday, April 30, 2012

Angry day.

I'm feeling a little bit bad for myself today.  I'm feeling even more bad for the people in my life that are being affected by this whole cancer thing and never ever should have to deal with it.

Danny and I were supposed to go up to Michigan in late July with his family for a week and enjoy swimming and tanning and laughing and such at their lake house.  Literally, the house is probably 8 steps from the water.  And I simply adore his family.  I would choose to hang out with his mom and dad in any sort of situation and look so forward to time together.  This would have been a week where time stood still and we would amuse ourselves with games and stories and silliness and smiles.  I know, it probably wouldn't have been that perfect, but still.  Now, instead of being up in Michigan, I'll be in the middle of chemotherapy.  Not only does this ruin summer vacation for me, but now my husband and his family have cancelled too so that they can stay with me while I'm sleeping and throwing up and acting like an ugly miserable person.  Not a fair trade-off.

So Danny comes up with this great idea for us to take just a couple of days away before I start chemo so that we can have some sort of summer vacation while I'm still up for it.  Plus, it will be awesome to have something to look forward to.  So we find some dates that might work and we decide on Gatlinburg.  We both have only been there once briefly, so we thought it would be awesome to see all of the touristy stuff and then just chill in the hot tub at night.  I get this list together of all of these places I've been wanting to visit for a while now and then Danny reminds me that I probably won't be able to climb up a rock wall or go through a ropes course.  Remember babe, you're on crutches.  I still don't see myself like that.  I'm frustrated that I can't do what I should be able to do in Gatlinburg.

And then there is my brother's wedding.  He is getting married to one of my favorite people in September.  Again, in the middle of chemo. We already have our plane tickets and our hotel rooms and our hearts set on going.  But what if it lands on days 7-10 after a treatment? That's time period where I am most vulnerable to get sick and definitely can't climb on a plane with a million other people.  What if it's right after a treatment when I'm completely hit-by-a-truck worn out and it would be beyond my strength to travel across the country and dance all night?  I'm hoping that my doctor is flexible and by that point in my chemo I'll be able to postpone a treatment if requested, but I just don't know.  It breaks my heart to think of going to the wedding and have people taking care of me when we should all be totally focused on Jeff and Laura.  I can't even imagine not being at the wedding at all.

Yea, cancer's really cramping my style.  Tomorrow I'll remember that I really have it easy and I should be incredibly thankful and let it just roll off my back.  But today, I'm pissed.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

The hardest thing you'll ever go through

Now that the shock of having cancer has kind of worn off and we've continued living life, I've had a lot of time to think about how this will impact us long term.  Our doctors and others that have beaten cancer have told us that this will be the hardest thing we will ever face.  It's made me begin to think about other times in my life that have been particularly difficult.  I find myself comparing how miserable I was then to how miserable this could potentially be.  I know, sounds like a blast.  But I've realized some stuff about myself and I suspect, about a lot of people.  Physical pain sucks, but it's the emotional stuff that comes to mind when I think of trials.  Not that cancer doesn't have an incredibly real emotional aspect, but it's the physical pain I'm really not looking forward to.  When I think of things that have been really tough for me to do, I think of things like being in the Navy for 4 years and not losing my mind.  Breaking out of co-dependent relationships.  Confronting people I love with truth that they won't love to hear.

I think it's almost easier to have cancer.  Cancer makes our choice pretty one-sided.  Either you do the hard thing, go through treatment, feel sick, and live or do nothing and die.  Pretty much everyone wants to live, so they do what they don't want to do because they must.  Emotional things should be that cut and dry, but they aren't.  When things are hard emotionally, sometimes the right decision isn't easy to see.  Sometimes the right decision is easy to see, but you don't want to see it.  Sometimes it's easier to not make a decision and hope things will change and get better, even though in your heart of hearts you know they won't.  Most of the time, not making a decision won't lead to your sure death, so there isn't any urgency.  And most people will settle in a miserable existance, even if just for a little while, to avoid a potentially sad and/or volatile situation.  But will you really live if you don't choose to do those hard things?  Won't you "die" when you lose yourself when consumed by trying to appease someone else, like you would in a co-dependent relationship?  Won't you constantly live with regret if you aren't brave enough to confront others with truth about yourself?  Won't you become a shell of who you were meant to be if you continue to stay in a place or in a job or with a person that doesn't breath life into you?  Be courageous!  Take action!  Stick with it!  Give yourself time to heal.  One day you'll look around and realize it was worth it.  Do what I don't have the choice to do or not do.

I have made difficult decisions and followed them through.  I have upset people and broken hearts (including my own) and survived seasons of depression.  By choosing some of these hard things and healing after them, I've been given a better life, a fuller life, a life worth living.  Cancer is something I didn't choose, but I know it's something I will choose to act against.  I can do this.  I pray that my cancer gives others the courage to take action when it's necessary, even when it seems too difficult.

For some reason, it's been hard to find the words to express what I'm feeling tonight.  I hope that the message isn't messed up by my sentences.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Sweet words

Todau was a great day!  I slept almost through the night (hallelujah!!), had lunch with a dear friend and her super cute baby girl, got my radiation treatment (easy peasy), and spent the rest of the day cleaning up, taking a nap, and watching shows.  My leg is definitely feeling a little better every day.  There was even about a half hour this morning when I actually forgot that I had a leg problem!  Of course it pretty much sucked when I remembered I have cancer, but those 30 minutes were glorious.  A glimpse of what life will be when all of this is over.

My wonderful, incredibly encouraging, and bursting with love mother-in-law is doing some sort of mysterious project for me and asked if I could send her some verses that I love.  I have a ton, but I was gravitating more toward the healing/response to illness verses, I can't imagine why.  This was the list I came up with:
Psalm 51:10-12
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and RENEW A STEADFAST SPIRIT WITHIN ME. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and GRANT ME A WILLING SPIRIT, TO SUSTAIN ME.
Psalm 30:11-12
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
Jeremiah 31:34
I have loved you with and everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness. I WILL BUILD YOU UP AGAIN.
1 Peter 5:10
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you STRONG, FIRM, and STEADFAST.
1 Corinthians 7:17 (message)
And don't be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there.  *this is one of my all-time favorites*

Just taking the time to look for these were a blessing to me.  I was wondering if any of you had verses that might be encouraging that you cold send my way.  Or for my beautiful and thoughtful friends that think the Bible's kind of silly, any words of wisdom or quotes that may bring me up a notch on a difficult day.  One request, please omit Romans 8:28, it's a little pet peeve of ours.  Thanks :)

Thursday, April 26, 2012

My first radiation experience

Today I had my first serious radiation treatment.  It did not go as smoothly as planned.  Yesterday when I went in they asked me if I had had a pregnancy test lately.  I had gotten one done before my port was put in, just a week ago.  They said that would be fine and got all of the information to verify it.  They called me this morning at 11 (keep in mind my appointment is at 1:15pm and it takes me 45 minutes to drive there) to let me know that the pregnancy test didn't count because it wasn't a blood test and that I can not get my treatment today without getting a new one done.  They said I could pick up an order at the office for a "legit" pregnancy test.  So I get there as fast as I can to pick up the order.  The nurse tells me that I can get the test done anywhere but they likely won't get the test results back in time for my treatment today or tomorrow.  What!?  I'm mad because I had from last friday to this wednesday to take care of anything they needed me to take care of, but no one mentioned this pregnancy test to me until yesterday.  I try to make one serious objection to the nurse before I burst into tears (I'm miserable under pressure).  All I want is my leg to stop hurting.  And now she's telling me that I have to wait 5 more days before we can start making it better.  Some days, it's just too much for me to deal with gracefully.  Thankfully the tears softened her heart a bit and she called around the hospital to get me a pregnancy test done and faxed back to her only 10 minutes later than my originally scheduled appointment.  By the grace of God, I got my radiation today.  It was really quick and easy.  Of course they drew on me more so now my mid leg is mostly black permanent marker, but I don't care at all.  I'm just so thankful to finally be on that long road to relief and recovery.

Btw, last night I was driving home from work and realized I remembered that really awkward story I wrote out yesterday COMPLETELY WRONG.  Which of course makes it even more hilarious to me.  What really happened was I told everyone that we should yell victoriously for the picture.  I was thinking people would shout "yeas!" and "all rights!" and assume victorious stances.  Well everyone else heard me say to yell "victoriously" so in the picture people are either forming the word "victoriously?" or looking confused.  There you go, the record's been set straight.  What really matters about that day was that my team won anyway.  I found the video they made of the day and it's hilarious.  At 6:52 you can see the story I told in action.  Such a thrill. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7BbHkA4924
Also, here is the victorious team!  I'm on the right with the fire in my eye.
Ok, enough of that.  It was just a really great day :)  Anyways, talk to you tomorrow!

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

More and more robotic...

Today I had my first mini blast of radiation to prep for my "for real" blast tomorrow.  It was super easy.  I feel like my leg already feels a tiny bit better, although I'm sure it's all in my head.  Whatever it is, I'll take it.  To help me continue looking more and more like a robot, this was drawn on me:
Not the cutest picture ever taken, but this blog is supposed to be real, right?  If you look closely you can see a little red mark under and to the right of my knee cap - that was where they dug through my leg layers and punched into the bone to get the biopsy that first detected lymphoma.  Creepy.  Surprisingly doesn't look that bad now.

Radiation is so crazy specific, which I'm thankful for.  They have those little nasty tumors lined up perfectly so that the lasers can kill them without mercy.  When I'm laying on the machine I want to make little shooting noises in my head and imagine the tumors crying out pathetically "We're sorry!  Boooohoooooo!"  Take that losers!

Last night I finally got some decent sleep!  Danny set me up in the guest room -  he even gave me the fluffly white down comforter that he loves to sleep under AND took the cats.  Heaven.  I slept from midnight to 6am solid!  YIPPEE!  I feel like a whole new woman!  It probably had to do with the 3 Ibuprofens, 2 Lor-tabs, and 1 nausea pill that I took, but I don't even care.  I woke up at 6 to take another Lor-tab and nausea pill, which gave me another couple hours.  It was great.  And our guest bed is AMAZINGLY comfortable!  You should definitely come and try it out sometime.  :)

In other awesome news, I got this incredible package yesterday which had like 100 little pieces of paper thrown inside.  On each piece of paper were written the words "Kick cancer's ass!"  It must have taken forever to do, but gosh did we love it!  It's exciting to be part of some great impending accomplishment.  And kicking cancer's ass would be a great accomplishment in my book.  So that's the goal.  Thank you so much to all of you guys out there who have rallied behind me and spurred me on to believe that facing this is not only possible, but a great adventure wherein I turn out to be the hero!  Well, I guess God is pretty much the hero but you know what I mean.  That reminds me of this time I was an intern at a Young Life camp and we had a full day of fun, Amazing Race style.  Well my team won, no big deal, and at the end we had this awesome group picture on the top of a mountain.  And I thought it would be awesome for everyone to say "victorious!!" instead of "cheese" for the shot.  There was some miscommunication and the picture pretty much has everyone looking confused except for me - I'm standing on a bench, looking at the sky, pumping my fists in the air, sporting an incredibly triumphant smile.  Well, maybe you had to be there, but it was funny.  Best day ever.  (Can anyone who was there attest to this being a funny memory?)

Well, since no one probably understood my last little aside, this seems like a pretty pathetic ending to the post for today.  But there's always tomorrow.  VICTORIOUS!!!