MARCH 31, 2012

Saturday Morning Update, and Hope

Ah - Saturday.  Woke up this morning with minimal nausea, so I consider that a mark in the win column.  LOL!

As you saw, Wednesday didn't go quite as planned.  Once I got home from the second trip to the onco, I was exhausted.  A short nap and nausea meds, for sure.  My dear friend Karena brought over dinner (chili and cornbread - YUM!), which was amazingly helpful.  I will definitely be asking for more help with meals - having that taken care of made all the difference.  I was able to function normally with the kids that night, which helped us all.

Thursday was an early morning back to the onco office, after we dropped the kids off at school.  We got called into the financial office and were hit with the numbers.  Don't let anyone ever tell you that chemotherapy is cheap - my one drug is around $400 each time.  Another drug is well over a grand per use, and the Neulasta shot will be around $600 per use.  Needless to say, hitting my $8000 max out-of-pocket isn't an issue.  *sigh*  We got that figured out, and we went into the chemo room.

I hate the chemo room.  I know I shouldn't, since it helps me and it will give me my life back, but I hate it.  I hate the smell of the office.  It makes me nauseous.  I hate the chairs we have to sit in, the IV poles, the fact that everyone in there is older than me.  I hate that people look at me with pity when I'm in there, especially when they hear it's my second go-round with cancer.  I don't want pity.  I want to smile and laugh and LIVE. I don't feel like I can do that in there.

Anyways, we got to chemo and got hooked up with the Avastin.  I had a conversation with the nurse about my concerns - everyone keeps assuming that, since we went through chemo almost four years ago, that we know what's going to happen.  I had to stop her and explain that I have willingly and purposefully forgotten everything I learned during that time frame.  That doesn't even take into account what's leaked out of my brain as a result of chemo brain.  :)  So, we had a discussion about side effects, the differences between Folfox (previous chemo) and Folfiri (this chemo), etc.  I was glad we had the discussion, but upset that we had to initiate it.

I had them give me a full dose of Ativan before they started the Avastin - the Ativan is an anti-anxiety medicine that also has anti-nausea properties.  I was super-nauseous before we walked in there, so I knew that this was a necessity.  Needless to say, I fell asleep (one of the great things about Ativan), and actually woke myself up snoring in the chemo room.  Embarrassing, but at least I wasn't nauseous.  :)

We were out of there by 10:30 or so, and headed home.  My dad dropped me off at my house so I could sleep some more, and he went back to his place to greet my brother Bob, my SIL Ashley, and my niece Bella.  Yeah for family visitors!  I went over there a bit later, before I grabbed the kids from daycare for their parent/teacher conferences.  Those went well (of course - my kids are amazing...), and off we went back to Mom and Dad's house for dinner with (some of the) whole family.

Yesterday brought with it more nausea in the morning, but some iced coffee (so odd) and toast helped.  We took the kids to the Wildlife World Zoo here in West Valley.  It was fun - tiring, but fun!  While there, I started to notice some sores in my mouth.  So much for no side effects from this chemo.  When we got home from the zoo, I called the oncologists office to try to get a script for the mouthwash that helps with mouth sores.  What a debacle that was.

Getting in touch with a chemo nurse is a treat.  Leave a message and wait for a call back.  Then, they called in script.  Perfect - except, when I got to Walgreens, the pharmacist told me that one of the ingredients of the compound is no longer made.  Really?  After much discussion between the pharmacist and the nurses (and some bitchiness on both sides), we finally got the ingredients settled.  Basically, the nurses kept saying that the pharmacy could just use my script from four years ago (really?), which they couldn't because a) they only keep records for 18 months, and b) one of the ingredients is no longer made.  I can't be the only person in this four year time frame to have asked for this "miracle mouthwash".  How have they not run across this issue before?  Luckily, the pharmacist was willing to stick up for me, and fought to make sure I got what I needed.  He said that the nurses at chemo were bitchy and mean, and he decided that he would be a jerk back to make sure I got this ASAP.  Thankfully, he was able to compound the mouthwash and I was on my way.

I think what bothers me most is that I have to fight to get answers and to get my script.  If I call the drs office, I shouldn't have to go through a bodyguard (aka, pharmacist) to get what I need.  And, even though I went through this four years ago, I still need help with this.  This is all still new to me.  I know it's not new to them, but to me, this is all new territory.  And, to have someone keep acting like it's a pain in the ass to them to give me answers makes me feel like I should start looking elsewhere.

And, that brings me to the next piece of news.  With the help of my amazing friends, I have started the process of changing doctors.  Nothing is complete yet, but we are in the process of getting the new facility the medical paperwork.  The new place is called Cancer Treatment Centers of America (CTCA), and is one of the foremost leaders in treating advanced cancers.  The local facility is in Goodyear, which is closer to our house than the current doctor's office.  I'll go into their facility more in detail in a future posting (especially once we get more information from them).  Right now, I'll say that I have had personal experience with this facility (it's where my friend Kim was treated), and I know of several other colon cancer patients that have been/are being treated there.  It's where I told my family that I wanted to be if my cancer ever came back.  My friend Amy did some research for me, and got me enough information that it was worth pursuing this facility.  Long story short, the financial impact is the same whether we stay at the current facility or go to CTCA.  I firmly believe that the treatment I'm going to get at CTCA is going to be much more complete and personalized, and right now, that's what I need.

We have meetings with them next week - they will be going back to my original diagnosis to look at all of the tests, including a potential rediagnosis if needed.  They are going to look at my case completely and totally, and we will be working with not only an oncology team, but a nutritionist, naturopath, mind/body therapist, and others to give me a complete, whole body treatment plan, rather than just dealing with the cancer.  I am so excited about this!  I'm especially excited about the nutritionist, b/c I've forgotten to eat in the past couple of days, and that had a big impact on how I felt.  My eating habits have changed just in the past couple of days (my tastes are completely different), and I know it's not good for me.

Anyways, now that this post is way longer than I intended, I'll say that I have more hope today than I did a week ago.  I'm excited about this new possibility for treatment, and I'm so glad that I have this opportunity.  Don't get me wrong - cancer still sucks, and I wish I wasn't dealing with this.  But, with the help of my friends and family, I'm going to absolutely and completely beat this.  I WILL be one of the stage 4 survivors!

Boo-yah!

Comments:

Amie said...

That is such great news about CTCA!! Sometimes, getting a second perspective is just what is needed - two eyes are better than one to look at your case and what you need to beat this!!! I am so excited about the whole body treatment - that is so cool and I love using all those modalities together!!! Love you! Let us know how it goes!

March 31, 2012 at 9:30 AM

 Lori said...

Yay for whole body treatment! Just what you need! Love you and the family is praying for you!

March 31, 2012 at 9:42 AM

 Tina said...

Sorry you have had to deal with such crap. It's so hard to deal with all that other stuff when you should just be concentrating on your health. You have a wonderful support system to help you--what a blessing!! Hope you can get into CTCA and get the care you really need!

March 31, 2012 at 10:24 AM

 papadragon said...

CTCA IS AWESOME! Theirs is a comprehensive program not only for you but things for the family as well. They aren't stuck on "this is the only thing that works" cookie cutter treatment, they will and do explore many traditional as well as non traditional therapies, and come up with a winning combination for your unique needs.... Add compassion and understanding to the mix and you have an awesome team.... I think the best part of it is that they include you, the patient, and give you some responsibility for your treatment, a level of control you dont have at other treatment facilities....

April 1, 2012 at 4:31 PM

 I'm Nic. said...

I'm Canadian and I've heard for the CTCA! That is amazing. Reading about your mouthwash debacle made *me* crazy...fill a four year old script...really? Gotta hate it when common sense is in short supply!

April 2, 2012 at 4:57 AM

MARCH 28, 2012

Morning Update

Good morning, my army!  Woke up to a bit of queasiness this morning (not so severe I can call it nausea), so I took another Compazine and made sure to get food in my belly.  That definitely helped.  Still a little but there, especially when the pump pushes do I feel it kick up.  Mental?  Absolutely.  Does knowing that make it any easier?  Hell no.

Going to make a call to the onco this morning - the tube from my port to my pump has a little but of blood in it.  I don't remember that, so I'm going to call to make sure that's normal.  Better safe than sorry.  Not sure what's going on - hoping nothing is wrong with the pump.  I'm hearing it go off, though I'll admit it doesn't seem to be as often as it was yesterday.  Hmmm....

Anyways, here's to a gorgeous day here in Phoenix (oh yes - highs near 90 - yes please!), and a day with little queasiness.  Off I go!

Comments:

Melanie said...

Hope your day was beautiful!

March 28, 2012 at 7:19 PM

Two trips to the onco office today

Dad and I put some serious miles on his Prius today.  I wasn't supposed to go to the oncologist's office today - it was supposed to be a pump-only day.

But, I woke up this morning and there was a little but of blood in my tubing.  When I asked Dad about it, we both agreed that we needed to go to the office to check it out.  In we go....and, apparently, the blood showing was left over from yesterday's blood draw through the port.  Sometimes, the tubing can hold a small reserve, and  the nurse thought that it has just worked it's way back up the tubing during the night.  Ok.  We get it fixed, and off we go.

No sooner did we get home, and I looked at my tubing, and it was bright red, completely full with blood.  Crap. Called Dad (he had only been gone for maybe 4 minutes) and back we go.  *sigh*

We got there, and when I opened my shirt, I realized that the blood actually leaked onto my shirt, etc.  Well, after some investigation, it appears that the connection between the port tubing and the pump tubing (a kind of plumbing connector) had a leak.  This meant that every time my heart pumped, it was pumping blood back into my tubing.  Eventually, there ended up being a clot in there, too.  So, we made the decision to replace the tubing, which seemed to be the most effective way to resolve the issue.  Luckily, it doesn't appear that I missed any chemo (didn't have any chemo leak out of the tubing), so I consider that a blessing.

Needless to say, it was a long day.  I had been looking forward to a day without having to go into the office, and I didn't make it.  Oh well - next time.

Tomorrow, we go back in for my first dose of Avastin and to get the pump removed.  I'm nervous about the Avastin, since I don't know much about it.  It's a longer infusion (90 minutes), I imagine so that they can make sure I don't have a reaction.  I've purposely not looked up side effects.  That whole mind over body thing....

Today has been okay from a side effect standpoint.  Still some nausea, but I've been able to keep it under control with mints, lemon drops, snacks, cold drinks, and (admittedly) a Compazine first thing this morning.  Hoping that tomorrow brings me an easy day, with no Avastin side effects.  I'm off to bed, with the help of some antacids and Ativan.  Antacids to help with the atrocious heartburn, and Ativan to make sure the nausea (and anticipation) doesn't wake me up in the morning.

Good night, all!

Comments:

Carol Pack Urban said...

Both my Folfox and Folfiri rounds were with Avastin. I don't recall having any side effects from it.

March 29, 2012 at 2:10 PM

MARCH 27, 2012

Port's in, chemo starts today

Well, the port's in.  I was able to convince the dr (well, all I had to do was ask) if we could put the port in on the left side, so as not to ruin my tattoo on the other port scar.  She was immediately ok with it, then proceeded to show me her Ironman tattoo on her left calf.  Cool!  It was fun to talk with her about something completely unrelated to what's going on, and to hear her enthusiasm.  And, Dad and I both recognized her - she's the dr who took my port out back in 2009.

I was totally ok yesterday, until we (Mom, Dad and I) started walking into the hospital.  That's when reality hit, and I started tearing up.  Knowing that this was the beginning of this all kind of hit me.  I never wanted to have to go through this, even though in my heart, I think I knew that it would come back some day.  I don't know why - maybe I was mentally preparing myself for the worst?  (I tend to do that - have since I was a kid.)  Mom and Dad took each hand, and helped me get through it before we got to admissions.  At the admission desk, they handed me a call beeper, like you get at a restaurant.  The lady there commented on my nails (now sparkly blue), and I said that I may have to fight this again, but I'm going to do it looking damn good.  :)  And, I will.

After getting the admissions paperwork done, we headed into intake, and they started the long process of getting my vitals done, getting the IV put in (blech), and doing all the routine stuff.  I will say, the drs and nursing staff at this hospital are just wonderful.  I've been at this place more than I care to admit, and they have been really good to work with.  They made sure I was comfortable, that we didn't need anything, etc.  And, more importantly, they talked with us about what's happening, why they use the PowerPort, showed us how it works, let me access the port on a sample one, etc.  It was much more in-depth than I remember, but in a good way.  Perhaps I just remember it more.

They took me into the OR (is that the right term?) for the placement.  It's always cold in there, but they gave me warm blankets to stop the shivering.  I don't know if I can describe the room to you - there are a lot of technical pieces of equipment, including an ultrasound machine, which allows them to accurately find and thread the catheter through the veins into my heart.  The port they put in is called a Power Port (pictures and more information here and here). 

The basic procedure is that they cut a small incision in my chest and form a pocket of sorts under the first couple of layers of skin, allowing them to insert this port in my chest.  They then thread the catheter tube from the port into the veins.  The whole procedure to get this put in took me about an hour from start to finish.  Basically, they give you versed and fentanol (maybe?) to help relax you and put you in a conscious sedation.  Then, they administer lidocaine to numb the area, and start the procedure.  I'll be honest - I remember them putting the lidocaine in, and then being done.  That's it.  Fabulous....

Because the surgery is pretty topical, I don't need rx pain meds.  I was back in the recovery room for about 15 minutes.  They gave me water and a fruit tray to snack on, which was awesome.  Then, about an hour later, I was in a wheelchair, being shuttled to my parents' car and being taken home.  Start to finish - about 5 hours.

This morning, the areas around the port are tender.  The port itself is fairly think (maybe 3/4"), so the skin around it is tender from being stretched.  Plus, they cut me open.  Skin tends to not like that.  And, my back is bothering me, probably from lying in the hospital bed and on the hard, long, straight OR table.  I'm hoping my back doesn't start to tweak today while I'm in the chemo chair.  We'll see.  Need to set up an appointment with my chiro.  Need to put that in a note NOT in the blog.

Today, when they go to access the port (which is the term for when they *use* the port), they will insert a very large needle into the port (hopefully, after they numb the area), bandage me up to make sure it stays in place for three days, and then start the process.  I'll try to update more later today or tomorrow morning, and let you know.  I know for sure that they will draw blood to do my cbc (complete blood count), then administer the Avastin and Folfiri.  What those are going to do to me are a mystery, but I trust my nurses and know that they will do everything in their power to make sure that I don't get sick.

Thanks again for the love and support.  It definitely helped me get through yesterday, and it will absolutely be needed today.

Comments:

Tina said...

Hope you are not too sore today. Remember to ask for a prescription for Emla cream!
Also remind your nurses how well Emend(?) worked for you so you can get it right away. Knowing what worked for you last time will help avoid problems this time! You are the one who first told me about Emend--what a wonder drug that is for nausea!
When I had to go back to the chemo room for my 2nd dx, I started taking ativan before I went because I would start to panic on the drive there. The nurses told me that is a common reaction and go ahead and take the ativan (also helps with nausea!) After receiving prayer at church, I never needed it again, but it was nice to know it helped if I needed it.
I'll admit it will be tough for me to read some of the things you are going through (esp. the part about the pump!), but I will be here for you supporting you all the way.
Now go kick some cancer butt!!

March 27, 2012 at 6:46 AM

 I'm Nic. said...

I've been MIA from the blogosphere and just getting caught up. So sad to hear you've got to kick cancer's ass again. Sending good vibes your way and know you are in my thoughts.

March 27, 2012 at 7:12 AM

 Carol Pack Urban said...

I've been thinking about you all day today. I've been praying and my mother's Bible study group was also praying for you today.

March 27, 2012 at 3:34 PM

Later:

Round Two: Cycle 1, Day 1

So, day one is down.  Well, sort of.  It's about 3:45 local time.  Right now, I'm not feeling great.  I was nauseous this morning almost from the moment I woke up.  I imagine that is part anticipation, part left-over meds from yesterday, and legitimate nausea from the chemo.

Rambling from here on out:
I know that my own memories are tainting this round.  I'm remembering (consciously and non-consciously) things from last time.  Every sound, touch, taste, smell, experience is a reminder.  Walking across the threshold from the waiting room into the chemo room was, exactly as I expected, horrific.  I felt like I was walking through a really long hallway - it couldn't have been more than 15 feet.  I felt like it was the beginning of the end - it's not; it's the beginning of the end of this cancer.  Walking into the room itself was the hardest.  Just seeing the purple chairs lined up, empty, as if they were waiting for me.

My parents and Lisa, the AMAZING chemo nurse, got me through accessing the port.  I can tell you that the whole process is pretty much a blur, like pieces of a puzzle sitting on a table, waiting to tell a story.  My story.
I remember picking a chair, at the end of the row along the wall.  I don't know why I picked that one.   Anyways, I sat down and just blanked out.  I wasn't sure what to do - it was very surreal being there.  I was worried about the port being accessed.  I was worried about being sick, since I still felt nauseous.  I was worried about how I would feel.  The smell of the office wasn't helping.  It's a smell that sticks with you.
Okay, so they access port, and pull cbc's (complete blood counts), to make sure I can get chemo.  They didn't need to do it, since they did the same thing yesterday for the port placement.  I think that it was a matter of giving me the time and space to come to grips with everything.

Accessing the port didn't hurt.  Lisa numbed me up good, and I didn't feel the needle go in.  I can tell you, I tasted the saline.  Blech - dirty sweaty sock taste.  Very fun.  Thank God for mints.

First bag of drugs were pre-meds - aloxi, decadron,Ativan, and Emend.  All good things.  I had her only give me half a dose of Ativan, and the other half just before I left.  After we got those in, the Leucovorin andCamptosar.  Then, once those were done, the chemo nurse administered a push of 5-FU (into my port), then sent me home with my chemo pump.  All in all, it took about 3 hours.  By the time we headed home, stopped at Walgreen's to pick up the meds, and grabbed a sandwich, we made it back to our house and I rested up.  Mom and Dad left shortly thereafter, and I rested.  I'm feeling - ok.  Not great.  Still a bit nauseous, but I just took a Compazine, which should help.  I also have Ativan to take if I need it - trying to hold off, even though that works, b/c I'm waiting for the kids to get here.  Ativan makes me tired.  :)

The good news is that I don't have to go into the office tomorrow.  Last time, each cycle was three days in the  office.  This time, first day is about 3 hours in the office.  Then I go home with my iPump (still need a better name - any suggestions?) until Thursday.  Thursday's appointment will start at 8:30am, and should be less than 2 hours.  My first round of Avastin is 90 minutes, then I'm disconnected and FREE for two weeks.  Next cycle, the Avastin is an hour, then subsequent appointments are 35 minutes.  Not too bad at all, in the overall scheme of things.

I'll probably start getting my Neulasta shot next cycle.  They expect my white blood counts to go down pretty quickly, so I'll need to watch who I'm around and what I expose myself too.  But, for now, I'm okay.

As I'm sitting there, the sound of my pump pushing the 5-FU to me makes me nauseous.  The Compazine seems to be helping, as did Mom and Dad arriving with the kids.  Stories about drama at 4th grade recess are the best medicine against nausea.

Smells are bothering me right now.  All of my senses are heightened, but I'm definitely more sensitive to smells.  My son is sitting next to me right now, and all I can smell is kindergarten boy.  I don't mind that too much.  Means he's having fun.  :)

I think that's about it, especially now that the kids are here.  Thanks for your help in getting me through this first, emotionally difficult day.  Together, and only together, can we beat this thing.

Comments:

Tina said...

Reading what you went through today, I can smell it and I can taste it. I always plug my nose when they flush my port. This keeps me from tasting it--the taste makes me nauseous! Other people smell tea bags or something, but plugging my nose has always worked for me.
Glad you are done with your first day. Kids definitely help! I remember thinking I was too sick, or too tired to visit with my girls--but then they'd all come plop on my bed and I ended up feeling so much better. What a blessing our children are!
Hope the steroids don't keep you awake all night!

March 27, 2012 at 6:51 PM

 chaoticfamily said...

Hope the first round goes well.

Erinne

March 27, 2012 at 7:44 PM

 I'm Nic. said...

You got it right - the beginning of the end of this cancer. Now you got me thinking of another name for the Ipump (we call it "Mom's waterbottle" cuz it kinda looks like one). But we need something catchier. Hmmmm. Wishing you heaps of rest and calm

March 28, 2012 at 5:15 AM

 Carol Pack Urban said...

I can't believe that I forgot about the fanny pack! You may not need the Neulasta. My blood counts never went down on Folfiri like it did with Folfox. I never had any of the side effects they expected me to except for hair loss. It came out in clumps and was extremely thin but never lost all of it. I was so happy not to have nausea like with Oxaliplatin!

March 28, 2012 at 8:08 AM

MARCH 26, 2012

Port Day

Another rambling post - sorry about this.  I have found that using my blog to vent my thoughts helps me deal with what I'm facing - sometimes, that means that it may not make a whole lot of sense to the reader.  Hopefully, you'll indulge me.  I won't be offended if you don't read this.  :)
*************************************************

I'm sitting here, cherishing my coffee and water and oatmeal.  After 6am, I can't eat or drink anything.  Stupid port surgery.  But, it's all good - I'm going to put chicken in the crockpot for dinner tonight.  Mmmm....

Looking in the mirror this morning, I realized that it was the last time I'd be looking at my body this way.  It will change irreparably today.  Either my original port scar will be opened again, or they will create a new one.  (Here's hoping they create a new one...I don't want them to mess up my tattoo.)  Today is the start of a new chapter in my life, one that I never hoped I'd have to write.  It's the beginning of a journey that I never, ever planned to take.  Honestly, who does?

Four years ago, I felt so alone.  I spent the first four months of my treatment thinking I was some sort of freak of nature, that I was the only person under the age of 50 diagnosed with colon cancer.  Since then, I've found out that I'm part of a group of people (well, several groups) that are just amazing.  The young adult cancer community is unbelievable, and I'm so so so proud to be part of it.  Other colon cancer survivors lift me up every day.  Their resilience, their strength, their optimism, their honesty is what inspires me to live a good life.

I woke up this morning to find out that my Mission: Remission group on facebook has over 300 people in it.  That's 300 people that are supporting me, that care enough to want to join, that are curious in some fashion about what I'm going through.  300.  I'm blown away.  $700 has been raised to help my family pay for medical expenses.  This is huge, since my out-of-pocket expenses (at least immediately) are pretty steep, and anything helps.  It will help me pursue homeopathic and naturopathic remedies to help me deal with the side effects, rather than relying on prescription drugs solely.  Hopefully, it will help ease my husband's mind.  He's working in California this week, and can't be here with me.  I don't know what he's feeling, or how he's handling this.  We don't get to talk much while he's on work travel.  That part sucks.

Sorry - rambling again.

So, today is port day.  Before I get to that point, I have to get the kids ready for school, take them in and let the teachers and administration know what's going on (I hate to be the bearer of bad news...), and hopefully get my hair cut.  Don't panic - I'm keeping my funky spiky style - I just need a trim.  :)  This time 'round, I'm not going to change much drastically.  I'm keeping my funky hair cut (need to get my color done too...hmmm...), I'm going to continue to wear my big hoop earrings, my rings, and wear what I want (within reason).  Keeping my sense of self is very important to me this time around.  I feel like living my life MY WAY in spite of my cancer is the best way to tell it to eff off.

Off I go - wish me luck!  I'll try to update tonight, maybe with pictures.  Lucky you!

Comments:

Carol Pack Urban said...

Great post! Totally understand what you're feeling right now. Just know, you can get through this. Love ya, girlfriend.

March 26, 2012 at 6:19 AM

 Caroline said...

Good luck with the portation! At least you know what to expect with it this time. I completely understand the venting through your blog - that's exactly what I do. One suggestion for chemo nausea is to use Seabands - they are primarily for sea sickness but also recommended for chemotherapy. We are all supporting you.

March 26, 2012 at 4:23 PM

 Carol Pack Urban said...

I experienced no side effects on Camptosar except for thinning hair.

March 26, 2012 at 7:38 PM

 chaoticfamily said...

So inspired by your post... Keeping you in my thoughts, hope the port surgery goes well and I'm looking forward to reading about how you continue to kick some cancer butt.

Erinne

March 26, 2012 at 10:54 PM

 I'm Nic. said...

I've requested to join the FB group! This fellow blogger is behind you!

March 27, 2012 at 9:15 AM

MARCH 25, 2012

Sunday Night Update

As I sit here, I'm listening to my favorite sound in the world - my children's laughter.  It's an amazing sound that people often take for granted - it might bring a smile to their face, but do they really appreciate it?

By this time tomorrow night, I'll have my port in.  I'll be tired, and sore, and likely emotional.  By this time on Tuesday, I'll be connected to my chemo pump.

I don't think I've quite come to terms with that.  I mean, I get it.  I know what's coming.  I understand what's happening, and I do get it.  But, I think I might be in denial or something.  Or, just ignoring it.

This weekend has been a mixed bag of emotions.  I still haven't had my expected breakdown. I'm wondering if that won't happen.  Maybe on Tuesday when I'm in chemo, or when I'm home, lugging that stupid pump around.  I should probably name it.  Note to self - ask Julia for help with that.  Heck - she's helping me decorate it with a slipcover...why not name it?

Part of the emotions I'm feeling have to do with the outpouring of support I've been getting.  I almost feel like an imposter - I don't feel sick.  I'm not ill, and I don't have anything (visibly) wrong with me right now.  For all intents and purposes, I'm exactly the same person I was a week ago.  The difference is that now, I KNOW I have cancer again.  I feel like, b/c I'm not sick, I shouldn't be on the receiving end of such generosity.  And yet, at the same time, I'm aware that, in a matter of hours, that will change.  Crazy.

I know this is a very rambling post.  Forgive me - my brain is on overload.  In the past couple of days, my friends created a logo to start this battle theme, set up a giving account (which is already over $600!), and set up an account to allow people to help us with meals.  I've seen my friend count on facebook grow by more than a dozen, reconnected with a ton of people from my past, and had support come my way from literally all around the world.  I'm still in shock.

Tomorrow will be a rough day.  I know it will be.  My hope is that I make it through with little pain, a matching scar on my left side (so they don't mess up my tattoo on the right), and no side effects.  :)  Wishful thinking?  Maybe.  Why not?

I'll try to update tomorrow sometime.  Please know that the support you all have given me is more than I could have ever imagined.  A girl from Syracuse, NY just doesn't deserve the kind of family and friends I have.  I can only hope that I would be the same kind of friend, were the situation reversed.

Comments:

Sharon R. said...

Cracking up at the slipcover comment. Tell Jules to pick an awesome name! I can't wait to hear that :)

I had no idea they were going in on the other side. Makes sense...

What time do you go in? We'll be praying everything gets off to a good start.

Love you...

March 25, 2012 at 8:08 PM

MARCH 24, 2012

Overwhelming Support

Ladies and gentlemen, the amount of support you've given me over the past couple of days has been completely overwhelming - in a good way.  The love and prayers and support and kind words and good thoughts and happy mojo coming my way have made a very difficult time a bit easier, and I can't possibly tell you just how much that means to me.  I've been friended on facebook by people I didn't even know, but who knew me through others and wanted to keep in touch.  I've heard from people that I had lost touch with.  I've gotten emails from all over the world.  It's just been....wow.

My fabulous friend Jen came up with a logo for this battle.  Can you say FABULOUS?!?!

She also set up a group on facebook, here.  I'll do my best to remember to link this blog to that facebook posting.

Levi headed back to California today for work - unfortunately, in spite of this devastating diagnosis, we still have to live life, and working is part of that.  It sucks that he has to be gone this week, but it is what it is.  The kids and I are going to head to the gym this morning (I'm not letting this cancer ruin my newly-found love for running and working out).  Tonight will consist of cleaning the house and watching Syracuse (hopefully) kick some ass on the basketball court!

Again, thanks.  So much!

Comments:

Mara Piel said...

You truly are an inspiration, Michelle. Keep up your positivity and strength and if you ever need a boost, there are a lot if us here to get you back where you need to be.

Love you!

March 24, 2012 at 9:02 AM

 Carol Pack Urban said...

I would love to have a t-shirt with this new graphic of yours on it! I hate crew necks or anything around my neck so some type of t-shirt that is lower cut, but not hoochie mama, would be perfect.

I was thinking it could be a fundraiser ... with the $$ going to a charity of your choosing ... thoughts?

Hugs!

March 24, 2012 at 11:00 AM

 Carol said...

Hi, Sorry to hear that your colon cancer has come back with vengeance, you sound like a person who will kick it's ass again! Rooting for you!
Carol

March 25, 2012 at 1:07 PM