Friday, September 30, 2011

SEPTEMBER 30, 2011


You know that feeling of amazement when the right song comes on the radio at the right time?  That happened to me today.

History lesson:  When I was going through chemo, this song was a big hit on the radio.  It came to be my anthem and helped me through *so much*.  I bought the CD and played this song all the time.  It was on the radio when I needed it most.  It seemed to define what I was going through, and was a reminder to keep plugging away.

Today, I had an appointment with the oncologist.  It was just a bi-annual check-up, and really just a recap of what I already knew.  I'm cancer free.  *happy dance*  He said that with everything looking as good as it does, there's no reason to continue with the PET scans, so unless the routine blood work starts to show an issue (he put me back on a 3-month regimen to monitor my slightly elevated CEA level), I don't have to have any more radiation.  :)

I am so happy!

On my way home, this song came on.  I remember sitting in my car, blaring this song then as a way to keep my spirits up and my emotions in check as I was dealing with the side effects, the uncertainty, the emotions.  Today, my windows were down, my radio was blasting, and I had tears streaming down my face.  Why?  Because I'm still fighting.  I went through hell, I'll go through it again, and I'll keep fighting.  I'll keep going through hell, and I'll try to get out before the devil knows I'm there.

Fuck you, cancer.  This chick wins.  You suck.  That is all.

Comments:

Whidbey Woman said...
:) I'm smilin', girl! I love that song, too. I don't consider myself a country music fan, but there are some songs that just say it all. This is one of them.
October 1, 2011 at 9:14 AM
Blogger keira said...

Some songs just stay in our mind and it never goes. That fills our day with peace and pleasure. This is one such kind of a song.

Regards
breast cancer center
October 6, 2011 at 10:53 AM

Thursday, September 29, 2011

SEPTEMBER 29, 2011


I don't remember how much I've posted about the pain I've been experiencing, so my apologies if this is duplication.  I'm too lazy right now to go back and look.  :)  I will say that if you don't want to hear about woman-ly issues, please stop reading....now.  Otherwise, know that I'm posting this b/c a) I think it's important information to consider if you are going through a cancer surgery and treatment, and b) b/c I consider this a living history of my journey, and I want it to be truthful and honest.  

History: since I started getting my period, it's been pretty irregular.  Until chemo was complete.  Now, you can set a freaking clock by it.  The typical signs and symptoms of a menstrual cycle are really evident, too.  I don't know if that's from the consistency of it, from the fact that I'm more in-tune with my body, or a little bit of both.  And with what I've been through, I've learned to listen to my body - when something doesn't feel right, I know to do something about it.  

In June, I started having pains when I was ovulating - I usually feel when that happens (a certain percentage of  women feel this happening - others do not).  It feels like a single sharp pain on either side, and usually goes away after a few minutes.  Over the past couple of months, though, that single pain has been getting progressively longer and significantly worse.  This pain absolutely accompanies ovulation, since I can still feel the egg popping out.  However, the pain that follows is almost unbearable.  It starts out as a mild cramping in my lower pelvis (like menstrual cramping), then progresses into about a 4-hour cycle of completely incapacitating pain in the same area (and always on the right side, and now radiating around to my back), alternating between an ache (topping out at about a 5-6 on a pain level scale of 1-10) and sharp shooting pains (8 or 9 on the 10-pain scale).  It literally takes me down, and I can't do anything but focus on the pain for hours on end.  It's awful.  Once the cycle subsides, it becomes an ache at about a 3-4, and the sharp shooting pain of about 6-7.  It's not much better, but I can function.  This lower-level cycle lasts for about two more days, then starts to back off for good after about another 2 days.  It's physically and mentally exhausting, and leaves me completely worn out.  

Last month, when this happened, I was at work and almost went to the ER.  I was concerned that this might be ovarian cancer.  Okay - I was more than concerned.  The symptoms were pretty conclusive.  But, since I had just had my  PET scan and bloodwork, and the month before the gynecologist had performed an external and transvaginal ultrasound, I knew going to the ER would only subject me to more duplicative tests.  I called my primary care physician and he agreed that the ER probably wasn't a good place for me to go - they would likely do the same tests, pump me full of drugs and tell me to go see my doctor.  Hmmm.  Luckily, Dr. Thompson agreed that something was wrong, and sent me off for a contrast CT.  Ick.  Once that came back clear, I knew it wasn't cancer.  So, what the hell is it?

I went into my gyno this week for a routine annual exam, and peppered him with questions.  Based on what he knows, the tests that were run, and my history of abdominal surgeries (2 C-Sections, gall bladder surgery, and colon resection), plus the fact that my body makes an excessive amount of scar tissue led him to believe that the scar tissue is what's causing me the issue.  Basically, it sounds like the scar tissue may have fused my right ovary to another organ(s), and when I ovulate, that causes me to be in extreme pain.  

When my gyno did my exam, he could actually feel the scar tissue from the outside.  Holy cow - that explains it!  I had discomfort and pain where I've never had that before in a previous exam, and those all led the dr to one conclusion.  

My gyno agreed that I can't live my life like this (one week out of each month, I'm completely incapacitated because of this pain, and another week, b/c of my period), and said that he wants to do a hysterectomy.  Never before have I been so excited to have surgery.  He's going to try to remove my uterus and right ovary via laproscopic surgery, but if that doesn't work, he'll go in through an incision in my abdomen (where my C-Section scars are).  He's going to bring in a general surgeon as well as my GI dr to be in the room when he performs the surgery.  If the scar tissue has fused itself to my intestines, they are going to have to take more of my colon.  Good times.  And, they won't know just how bad it is until they get in there, so he's going to go in with all cylinders firing, rather than making me go through this more than once.  I like that.  

If he can do the surgery through the four small incisions, the recovery time is pretty minimal - 2-3 weeks.  If he has to go in through the traditional cut, it will be a bit longer (4-6 weeks).  Either way, it will eliminate the issues I'm having, which I like.  I can't keep going through this pain and suffering.  It's to the point that  my back aches ALL THE TIME, and I'm on a constant regimen right now of ibuprofen every 4-6 hours just to stand up straight.  This is all consistent with what I've been going through, and consistent with the signs of built-up endometriosis/scar tissue.  Unfortunately, b/c of this pain, I'm not able to workout.  I can't even stand up for more than 15 or 20 minutes at a time without collapsing in pain.  SO not cool.  

Needless to say, they can't do the surgery soon enough.  I'll keep you updated on timing, etc., but at this point, it looks like it's a few weeks away.  

More surgery.  My poor husband should have gotten a return receipt.  Hell - I feel like *I* should have gotten a return receipt.  Can you exchange your body?  Probably not.  So, instead, I'm going to take this as a good thing that I listened to my body, and I'm going to continue to eat better, work out (once I'm physically able to), and remember that this is the only one I've got.  Good lessons, whether you're in pain or not.  :)  

Comments:

Caroline said...
Do you have adhesions? Or something else? They can be horrible. Anyway, I had a traditional hysterectomy five years ago. While it took a while to get back on my feet, I am much better for it. Go to www.hystersisters.org for help and support with a hysterectomy. Its a great message board. Good luck to you! (and no more menstrual pain!
September 29, 2011 at 4:59 PM
Blogger chaoticfamily said...
I have been having a horrible time with my cycles and a hysterectomy is in the talks with my Dr. I wish you success.
September 29, 2011 at 11:12 PM
Blogger Carol Pack Urban said...

I understand the need for the surgery. I wish my surgical oncologist had agreed to a hysterectomy during my last procedure but he did not. Since chemo my periods have been very irregular. I have always had pain during ovulation. Some as bad as you describe. If it continues I plan to get my gyn to do a hysterectomy.
September 30, 2011 at 4:11 PM

Sunday, September 25, 2011

SEPTEMBER 25, 2011


I never, ever expected to hear that my colonoscopy came back clear on Friday.  And yet, in spite of me continuing to ask my father to reassure me, he insists that the news was that my colon is clean and clear.  And, I don't have to go back in for TWO WHOLE YEARS!

Absolutely amazing.  Beyond excited.

I wonder what will happen when I see the oncologist on Friday - will they let me go to a year between PET scans?  Only time will tell.  :)

Comments:

I'm Nic. said...

Clear colon = best 2 words smashed together ever! Big Congrats!!!
September 28, 2011 at 11:11 AM

Thursday, September 22, 2011

SEPTEMBER 22, 2011


Today's post is brought to you by my diet....chicken broth, water, popsicles, gummy bears, iced tea, soda, and my Osmo-Prep tablets later today.  :)

The last couple of weeks have been very tiring.  I've been poked and prodded and radiated a lot in the last couple of weeks.  I can't remember if I told y'all what's been going on - I've been having a pretty consistent, persistent pain in my lower pelvic region.  I've seen my OB/GYN - one external and transvaginal ultrasound later, nothing showed up other than that my ovary is a little bigger than expected and had a LOT of follicles on it.  My PET scan came back clear, my blood work is showing CA-125 levels of 3.5 (really great levels), and the contrast CT scan (with the nasty berry-flavored barium) was clear.  Still no idea what's causing the pain - I have a follow-up with my GYN next week, and if he doesn't have any ideas, I'm going to follow-up with my PCP to see if he has any ideas.

And, my colonoscopy is tomorrow - even though my scans came back clear, I'm interested to see if she finds any polyps.  I hope not, but I'm fully expecting them.  Par for the course, you know.

It's been a REALLY long week, otherwise.  I was traveling in Tucson Monday through Wednesday for work.  I didn't sleep well, especially with the news that my health insurance at work is changing significantly next year. But, it's something we/I are going to have to deal with.

I'm sitting here, enjoying my chicken broth (I needed something non-sweet) and looking forward to my lunch of more gummy bears, some soda (first time I've had some in a while), and my 20 pills for dinner.  :)

Good times.  Thanks, cancer.

Comments:

Caroline said...
I always feel a tiny bit thinner after the colonoscopy diet... I hope it goes well.
September 23, 2011 at 2:08 AM
Blogger

Monday, September 12, 2011

SEPTEMBER 12, 2011



I started this post last week, and didn't have the emotional strength to finish it.  I'll attempt to do that now.
****************************
 I can't believe it's been 10 years.  It's so hard to imagine, when the memories in my mind are so fresh, so real, so vivid.

I remember a few "big event" things in my life very vividly - one of them is the day the Challenger space shuttle blew up.  I was in elementary school (2nd or 3rd grade, I think), and we were all taken into the cafeteria, where they had the televisions set up to allow us to watch the takeoff.  I also remember where I was when I learned when Princess Diana was in a car crash.  I remember where I was when I was watching OJ Simpson lead the LA police in a slow car chase.  With the exception of the Challenger, most of the things I remember are small.  Inconsequential.  Meaningless, really, in the scope of reality.

Like so many, I will NEVER forget where I was when I learned about the awful attacks on America on September 11th.  At the time, Levi and I were living together in my grandparents house in my hometown of Syracuse, NY (upstate, about 4 hours northwest of NYC).  We had spent the summer working with my family to renovate the house - we were so proud to keep that house in the family, and to keep traditions alive.  I was working as an administrative assistant for a construction company.  The jobs were just getting started, so there was a lot of paperwork and busy work to take care of.  Our offices were located in an older school building that was now being used to house the bus garage.  Our office was in a converted kindergarten classroom, completely with small benches, tiny toilets, and pint-sized cubby-holes.  It was very, um, unique.  :)

On that fateful morning, I remember getting an email from my friend, Kevin.  He had sent it out to a group of us, telling us he thought a plane just hit the WTC.  I deleted it, and I remember thinking that there's no way Air Traffic Control would ever let that happen - being a former flight attendant who used to fly in and out of NYC all the time, I was sure that this was false information.  NYC would never allow something like that to happen.  I deleted the email, dismissed it, and went on with my day.

A few minutes later, I headed to the restroom (regular people sized...) and passed the bus garage.  The mechanics were all huddled around the small tv they had for background noise.  I walked in and asked them what was up - just in time to see the other plane hit the other tower.  Oh my God.  I was frozen.  Completely shocked.

I don't think I ever made it to the restroom that morning.  I walked back to our office, told my bosses that they needed to get in here, now, and walked back to the garage.  There were a total of about 10 of us huddled around this teeny television, trying to learn as much as we could.  More information came in about a potential attack on the Pentagon, and a missing plane that may have crashed into a field in PA.  Living in upstate NY at the time, that was WAY too close to home.  I was terrified.  We all were.

I remember trying to call my parents, Levi, my brothers.  None of the phones would work.  The phone lines were completely jammed, no doubt by others doing the very same thing.  When I finally made it through to my parents, I was in tears.  I just needed to hear their voices.  I made sure my brothers were ok, and I finally got in touch with Levi.  Mark (my boss) and I tried to go about our day, but we were both glued to our computers.  CNN.com was timing out - if one of us made it through the refresh process, we kept the other updated.  We had the radio on, but none of the stations played music.  All stations focused on the events at hand, speculating who.  What.  Where.  When. WHY?

After a few hours, I drove home.  Sitting in the office was futile.  I needed to be with my family.  I needed to hug them, see for myself that they were okay.  As I was on my way home, I listened to more accounts of the stories, more speculation, more attempts to answer the questions we all had.

I don't remember many specifics beyond that.  The next few hours were a blur of tears, fears, watching the tv, and trying to digest the fact that America had just been attacked.  Living on the East Coast, there was a constant fear (for months) that any plane off track had been hijacked.  Being a New Yorker, I felt personally violated.  Every day, you heard stories about people who lost loved ones.  People who were feverishly searching for a missing brother, sister, mother, husband, child.  You saw people breaking down in the middle of stores, overcome with emotion.  For months, fear and pride dominated our lives.

For me, the most potent moments came after 9/11.  My brother had just graduated from high school that summer.  One of his good friends had just left for NYU.  She was at park-type area in between the Trade Centers on 9/11.  As the first plane hit, a man pushed her out of the way of falling debris.  She escaped with no injuries.  That man became a parapalegic.  Every few days, I learned that a friend lost a cousin, or someone lost a brother, or someone was headed down to NYC to look for a person.  It was heart-wrenching.

The big thing for Levi and I?  Well, two things.  First - a year earlier, Levi had been working in NYC every week.  He drove down to Jersey on Sunday night, shacked up in a hotel, and took the subway and train into the city every night for their work.  In the morning, as they waited for the train to get there, they had breakfast in a cafe in the below-ground area of the Trade buildings.  Had he not been laid off several months earlier, he would have been IN the trade center buildings when the planes hit.  Talk about a life-changing event.  Thank goodness for the Verizon strike in 2000.  We later found out that two of his former co-workers lost their lives that day.  Levi still has guilt - he feels like he should have been there to help his friends.  He feels like he could have helped save some lives, had he been there.  While I appreciate his thoughts, I'm *so grateful* he wasn't there.

The second big thing for Levi and I?  11 days after 9/11 (one year to the day after my grandfather passed away), I found out I was pregnant.  My first reaction was that I didn't want to bring a child into this violent world.  I was terrified - even 11 days after the event, there was still this very real fear of when the next attack would be.  There was a very heightened sense of anything out of the ordinary,  And, we were going to bring a child into that environment?  I was petrified.

Obviously, things progressed, we made peace with what happened in our lives, and my pregnancy (and our hurried nuptials) started to take center stage.  For us, it became a beacon of hope in a time where there was very little hope to be had.

We got up early yesterday to watch the ceremonies in NYC, and to participate in the moments of silence.  There were many tears shed in our house yesterday morning; it's hard to watch the children call out their parents' names, hard to watch a parents call out their child's name.  Hard to listen to the world go silent when we remember the first plane hit, the second plane hit.  It's been so hard to watch the recaps and the replays of the new coverage.  I often noticed that my heart was racing while watching these shows...it's as if it was happening all over again.  I know it was ten years ago, and I have ten years of life experiences to separate me from the events of that morning.  And yet, it truly was like I was living it all over again, for the first time.  That sense of fear, and horror, and shock, and overall dread.

We chose to spend the day with our family yesterday, and just enjoy what time we have together.  We attended the unveiling of a memorial in the City of Surprise yesterday morning - it was short and sweet, and at the end, as the bagpipers played "Amazing Grace," they pulled the veil off a glass case enclosing a piece of the towers in NYC.  Etched on the glass enclosure are the names of the heroes from the NYPD, NYFD, and Port Authority that lost their lives that day.  It's a beautiful memorial, simple and honest.

This memorial was hard on the kids - Kevin couldn't understand what was going on.  For that, I'm grateful.  5 years old isn't close to being old enough to understand the magnitude of what happened that day.  Hell, I don't know if 25 (the age I was 10 years ago) is old enough.  Quite frankly, I'm not sure 35 is any better, to be honest.

Julia spent a lot of time watching the coverage and asking a lot of questions.  They've covered 9/11 in school in the past, but it was very casual and a very high level overview.  I wasn't sure how I was going to handle Julia's questions this year.  I took my cues from here - I answered questions she asked, I let her turn the channel when she wanted, but I also let her watch what she wanted.  We talked about where we all were on that day, and I told her that I found out a few days later that I was pregnant with her.  She had questions, and one of the most poignant was whether she brought up bad memories because I found out so soon after 9/11 that I was having her.  It was a really amazing parenting moment to be able to tell her truthfully that being pregnant gave me hope when I was having trouble finding any.  Her pregnancy gave us something positive and wonderful to look forward to - that's what I told her, and that's what I felt.  Her smile was worth every tear yesterday morning.

I know people here in the Southwest didn't feel the effects of 9/11 the same way East Coasters did, and that's okay.  The sense of family with other East Coasters when talking about 9/11 is a feeling unlike any other - it's a group none of us want to be part of, but each of us are fiercely proud of.  (Kind of like cancer, now that I think of it...)

And with that, I vow to try to live my life in a manner that will make the heroes of that day and the days since proud of me, proud of America, and proud of what they sacrificed that day.  To the heroes in the world (including FD, PD, first responders, veterans, active military current and future, and the families of all those amazing people), thank you for all that you do.  I hope I make you proud.

Friday, September 2, 2011

SEPTEMBER 2, 2011

I've said it before, and I will say it again...this is the only time I like being "normal".  So says the report:  "PET/CT study is negative for any evidence of residual, recurrent, or metastatic colon carcinoma."
That's some kick ass good news....

Comments:

I'm Nic. said...

Totally and literally "kick ass" great news! So happy for you!
September 15, 2011 at 9:10 AM

Thursday, September 1, 2011

SEPTEMBER 1, 2011



Still no word back from the oncologist.  I don't like waiting.  I've been good about only leaving one message this morning (admittedly, I didn't even ask about the PET - I still need the colonoscopy information and I realized that I need my bloodwork rx).  I'm getting ready to make another phone call.

Waiting.  Not my favorite thing to do at all.  I'm trying to keep myself distracted.  It's not working very well.  :)