And that folks, Is A Wrap!

Well, I'm done...  (Yep, stick a fork in me, I am definitely done!)  Today was the day that I have been looking forward to for the last 6 weeks, the last day of radiation.  I was a little sad to arrive at radiation today to find out that 2 of the members of my radiation team were at some kind of training and were not going to be there for my last day!  But, hats off to Melodee and Darlene who did a fantastic job of whomping it up as I jumped up from the table for the last time!

I was excited to head to radiation today sporting this absolutely fantastic "Superwoman" t-shirt which was a surprise from my chemo angel... it arrived Saturday and I waited all weekend to wear it today!  And I had wonderful pink bracelets- one for each arm from my best gal pal, and my wonderful cousin!  So, I was feeling pretty special as I headed off for one last zap!  I think that Lucy and Duke were happy to hear that this would be the last time that I headed off for radiation too... even though I'm not usually gone that long!

Almost a Cancer Milestone

I got a little choked up driving to radiation this morning.  I am probably way too sentimental.

Today was my next to last radiation treatment.  Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that I am almost done, but at the same time, I've really enjoyed my radiation team.  I actually look forward to seeing my radiation "angels".   32 times I've walked into that hallway, and said "Morning, Miss Mel" (yes, ya all remember Miss Mel of the "I've never seen anything like that" fiasco) as I was either coming or going.  I am most certainly going to miss my chats with that gang, and will probably find myself stopping in to see them every once in a blue moon.  (I hope that by entering the hallowed halls of the radiation department, I'm not tempting fate...)

So what's next for this feisty little blonde?  Well, I've been studying to take the Florida Real Estate Licensing exam.   I had a goal.  The goal was to be ready to take the exam by the time that radiation was over.  But, as usual, I didn't really factor in the fact that somewhere along the way in this caner journey, I suffered a brain injury or a loss of my mind.  I've been working on this since June, and I was skipping along at a pretty good pace. I was really pretty proud of myself, acing chapter exams like a true scholar! But, then I started to notice that my brain was holding the information, but only for a week after I had studied it, and when I would go back and do those chapter exams, I was flunking them.  It's like it's all new information.   Shit!  Now what?  I don't have that answer, but I'm getting frustrated that my brain isn't ready to play ball.  I'm going to have to figure out a new way to study the information and see if that helps.  

I have noticed that while I'm okay doing things that I already knew how to do, that sometimes I have serious challenges learning new things.  For example, the other day, I found an instructional yoga move that is supposed to be good for breast cancer patients.  I printed it out, and bribed the dogs with bully sticks so that I could lie down on the floor without becoming a jungle gym for boxers.  I grabbed my glasses and the instructions and hit the floor.  That's where it got messy.  I read, reread, and looked at the picture 10 times and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how I was going to accomplish what the person in the pictures was doing.  After about 20 minutes, and several words that I won't repeat here, I gave up.  I mean seriously, shouldn't a yoga pose designed for cancer patients take chemo brain into consideration?  2 days later, I was cleaning up the bedroom and picked up the paper again, intending to toss it in the trash.  Frustrated that something had gotten the better of me, I read it again.  I swear to you, balloons and streamers fell from my kitchen ceiling.  Bells rang!  Lights flashed!  You have got to be kidding me.  How is it that 2 days ago, I read that over and over, and couldn't make it happen?  But, now it's seems simpler that coloring in a circle with a crayon.  

And I know I've blogged about my attention span, but I'll tell you again about what's going on with that just because I like making people laugh, and this story had my physical therapist in tears.  Earlier this week, I decided that I should probably do some laundry.  So, I grabbed the clothes that were laying on the bathroom floor and walked them to the washer.  On my way back to the bedroom to get the rest of the dirty clothes, I noticed that there were dirty dishes in the sink.  Crap, let me just stick them in the dishwasher.  It's that very moment that washing machine dings to remind me that the door is open.  So, I stop with the dishes, and go back into the bedroom for the dirty clothes.  On my way back through the kitchen, I notice that something has been spilled on the floor, so I go for the mop.  Again, the bell chimes on the washer. I abandon the mop.  I walk back into the laundry room, throw the clothes into the washer, and remember about the dirty dishes in the sink.  Walk back into the kitchen, open the dishwasher and start to put the clean dishes away.  And there's the bell on the washer again.  Did I really not turn that on?  Back into the laundry room, but why is the mop out?  Oh, I remember.  Start mopping up the floor and remember that I need to turn the washing machine on.   Finally get the washing machine turned on, and wonder if I remembered to throw the little soap thing in?  Pick up the mop, and start cleaning up the floor when I notice that the dishwasher is open.  Why is the dishwasher open?  And crap there are dirty dishes still in the sink.  And mys husband wonders what I do all day?  Seriously?  When I look at moments like these, I wonder if I am being haunted by the great Erma Bombeck?

I seriously hope that this is going to get better....

I am off to plant the plants that are sitting next to my driveway.  Apparently, I bought them several weeks ago (according to the receipt from Lowe's) but have neglected to plant them.

Take It Back... Or Else

WARNING: THIS POST IS NOT LIKE THE USUAL, FUNNY, WITTY BLOG POSTS THAT I HAVE PREVIOUSLY POSTED.  I'M A LITTLE ANGRY, NOT AT CANCER, BUT AT THE SERIOUS AMOUNTS OF INSENSITIVITY THAT WERE EXPRESSED TO ME THE OTHER DAY, AND I HAVE TO VENT, BECAUSE THE DOCTORS SAY THAT I SHOULD AVOID STRESS AND THAT I SHOULD'T  HOLD THINGS IN, BECAUSE IT ISN'T GOOD FOR ME...  I HAVE COOLED DOWN FOR A FEW DAYS.... HOWEVER, I AM STILL A TAD MAD.

Maybe I'm being too sensitive, but I don't think I am.  Granted, I will admit that I am probably a tad more sensitive than what I was pre-cancer.  I am also probably a hormonal mess (thank you cancer drugs) however, I think it is very insensitive to be critical of the way that other people deal with challenging situations.

In case you've missed any of the saga that has been my life for the last 10 months let me sum it up for you:  I went for what I thought was going to a completely unnecessary mammogram a year ago December 16.  It turned into something completely different.  I was informed by a pimply faced, Doogie Houser type that I definitely had cancer before I could even plant my body in a chair.  All of this was followed by blood work, multiple biopsies, an MRI (that I was sure I wasn't going to live through), another biopsy (that I almost didn't live through), a Pet Scan, Chest x-rays, an echo cardiogram, surgery to install a port... and all of this was before chemo even started.  I had 6 rounds of chemo and spent the next 4 months of my life feeling like I had the flu, A REALLY HORRIFIC FLU.  I lost my hair, my mind, 2 toe nails, and nearly lost 10 fingernails.  My bones hurt so bad that I feared that by the time chemo was over that they would have completely disintegrated.  My hands and feet were swollen and the feeling in them was starting to disappear.  On top of all of this, I couldn't sleep, and food that was good for me tasted like crap.

Just when I was starting to feel like a normal human being again for the 1st time in almost 6 months, it was time for surgery.... Here we go again, right?  We all remember how much fun I had with that.  Can I tell you that I haven't had a decent nights sleep since all of this started (in December of last year, mind you).  Then came the fills and the fun... elephants on your chest, oh yes please!  The elephants had just started to go away when radiation started.  (I'm starting to see a pattern here.  Every time I start to feel normal, the torture starts all over again.)    Almost 6 weeks later, the elephants are back along with sharp, pulling sensations that scream across my chest at least a hundred times a day.  And I know I haven't mentioned it, but I'm so tired!  I am pretty sure that I could sleep for 3 or 4 days without ever waking up.  (I was driving home from somewhere today at noon, and almost fell asleep at a red light- I never know when it's going to hit,!  Not good.)

I've handled all of this pretty well, or at least I think I have, that's what they tell me anyway!  I stared death in the face, yes, I could have died.  I didn't.... and I'm not going to, well at least not any time in the near future.  I've managed to face chemo, surgery, and radiation  with a smile on my face, and a sense of humor that has kept all of my service providers, my family, and my friends entertained for the last 10 months.  I've stayed positive (even though at times it was challenging as hell), and believe me, looked forward to the day when all of this cancer business was over.  I have longed for my "normal" life for the last 10 months, and have done everything "normal" that I have physically been able to do.  The laundry has always been done, the house has always been cleaned, there has always been food in the refrigerator, and I have continued to do all of the purchasing, logistics, payroll and taxes for the business (which I can assure you was not without it's challenges)!

So, when someone tells me 3 days ago that it's time to move on, not "dwell" on it, that everything is back to normal, just because the cancer is gone, I wanted to jump on an airplane and personally choke that "someone".   (Can you seriously be that insensitive?)  Oh, but wait, I can't because I still have radiation, physical therapy, and Herceptin infusions to go to, and I probably won't make it through airport security because I have magnets in my chest.... and I have not yet been cleared to fly, yeah, there's that.  I am so glad that everything is back to normal.

OH
MY
GOSH!

I wish it were that simple.  In a lot of ways, I wish that everything could return to normal, I would probably kill for most everything to be just the way that it was on this day a year ago. Believe me, I never would have chosen this for myself had I been given a choice.  I had hair on my head, I didn't have raging headaches 24/7, and my whole chest didn't scream every time I moved.  I could sleep without waking up every 30 minutes to try to get comfortable. I could go out in the sun without feeling like I was going to pass out. I had toenails.  And most importantly, I wasn't constantly exhausted, out of breath, and trying to figure out what the heck I was doing; I could start a sentence and finish it.  I could snuggle up next to my husband, or my dogs without being in serious amounts of pain. I didn't have to consult with a physician to get approval before jumping on a plane. So while all of that sounds wonderful, instead I will be be finishing radiation, going for yet another PET scan, going back to see the plastic surgeon, finishing physical therapy, having another echo cardiogram, seeing the oncologist, and having another Herceptin infusion.  Just for the record, it's not really what I "want" to be doing, but I don't really have much of a choice.  So, if by finishing out the recommended, and prescribed course of treatment, I am "DWELLING" on cancer, so be it.

 I have accepted that my life will never be like it was before cancer, (and I've grown enough spiritually to accept that), cancer will always be a part of me, of who I am.  I will always have to return to oncologists offices, I will always be getting blood work done, and having pet scans.  While I can't wave a magic wand and make everything "normal" again, I am taking the necessary steps to move towards a "new normal" at the earliest possible moment.

Oh, and one more thing.  Believe me when I say, there is nothing "FREE" about my boob job.  Trust me.

It Was Such A "NON" Thing...

Despite my very best efforts to be tough going through radiation treatment, I have my moments where it's just a tad too much.  My brain, which only picks select moments to work, sometimes doesn't pick the right moments to work.  Yesterday was the perfect example of this.

Let me start at the beginning of this story so you know what I'm talking about.  4 weeks ago, in the early days of my radiation saga (hmmm.... calling it the radiation saga kind of makes it seem glamorous!)  a bright purple vein appeared on my chest (which was not very glamorous!).  It started on the left side, directly above my heart and ran across my breastbone to my right breast where it looked like a balloon full of purple ink had exploded.  It caused no discomfort, but just didn't look quite right.  So, I mentioned it to the doctor who did not brush it off, but said that he was "okay" with it and "not concerned".  Hey, who am I to question, while being a feisty cancer warrior, I am no doctor?  Just because I've spent countless hours gazing at this monstrosity in the mirror does not mean that it is anything to be worried about.

I am not sure that my lovely team of radiation angels (They are angels, each and every one of them are as sweet and lovely as can be.  Can you tell I love them?) agreed with the doctor, because we've had many conversations about this lovely purple splash across my chest.  Just about everyone, except for the guy that changes the light bulbs at Florida Hospital Cancer Center has had a chance to glance at this phenomenon.  And over and over again, I was told that it was nothing to worry about.  I've gotta admit, I had a hard time accepting that, there is no way that something so freaky looking could be nothing to worry about, right?  

Fast forward to yesterday.  Monday, September 15, 2014.  I report for my normal radiation appointment, and zip right through it despite the fact that I am starting to resemble a seriously overcooked egg- let's just say I am no longer "over easy".  Again, the radiation angels stand over me looking at the purple phenomenon and before I know it, I find myself sporting one of those lovely blue hospital gowns, you know the ones that are "air conditioned" in the back.  At least it was blue.

Enter Nurse Mel and Dr. Dill (who has finally decided to return from what I will just say was way too long of a vacation.), and guess what?  They wanna check out the purple phenomenon.  My heart sinks to my feet, and squeezes itself out of my toes as Dr. Dill tells Nurse Mel to get my plastic surgeon on the phone, and Nurse Mel exclaims "I've never seen anything like that before!".  (Oh yeah, I feel so much better!)  Suddenly my stomach is doing back flips and I've got a headache capable of shutting down an entire city.  OH NO!  SERIOUSLY, THIS CANNOT BE GOOD!

There are some things that should be approached delicately with a cancer patient, and some things that just should never be said.  One of the things that should never be said is "I need you to go now."!  The last time I was told that I needed to "go now", I spent half a day with my boobs in a vice only to be told before I could sit down that I definitely had cancer.  So, I'm a little sensitive about this phrase.  It most certainly does not evoke warm and fuzzy feelings in this cancer patient.

It's important to mention that I seriously had to pee.  The 3 cups of coffee that I had consumed before leaving the house were catching up with me.  But, I was so upset, and needed to find out what was wrong with me before I could take the time to pee- some things just have to wait. So, I jumped in the car, and attempted to back out of my parking space.  It would have been a lot more successful if I had turned the car on and put it into gear, but I was so upset that it took me a few minutes to figure out what was wrong.

The 35 minute drive made my brain kick in and the anxiety got seriously intolerable. Where the heck is the wine when ya need it?

Brain: You know this isn't good.

Me: No shit, Einstein.  Thanks a lot for mentioning that to me.  I hadn't really thought about it.

Brain: This could be really bad.  I mean, really bad.

Me: Yep, already know that. 

Brain: They might have to remove that expander.  Maybe it's infected.

Me: Oh, really?  I never thought of that.  Thanks for mentioning it, I feel a lot better now.

Brain: I'm just trying to help.

Me: And you picked this moment, why?  Funny, when I needed help backing out of a parking space under duress you were nowhere to be found.

Brain: You should be able to back out of a parking space on your own by now.  You're like 40 years old.  Maybe there is something wrong with your heart.

Me: Oh gosh, why didn't I think of that?  Seriously?  Have I told you lately that I hate you?

I decide that maybe if I jump in the fast lane and attempt to drive 90 MPH, my brain will shut off.  I was bound and determined to turn the voices in my head off, or at least turn them down a notch or two.  Weaving in and out of Orlando traffic takes tons of concentration and leaves little room for an over-active imagination.

I arrive at the parking garage in record time, leaving a lot of Orlando drivers dazed and confused as they are not used to seeing vehicles moving over 40 MPH, even on the highway.  It would figure that the parking garage is bursting at the seems,  the only spaces left aren't large enough for a golf cart, and in case you haven't figured it out yet, I do not drive a golf cart.  I zip around corners, tires screeching praying that there isn't anyone coming the other way.  (For some reason, when they built this shiny new parking garage, they forgot to include enough room for 2 way traffic.)  5 floors later, I spot a parking place, or what I thought was a parking space, but no, it was a dead end.  No wonder there's no one parked there.  Seriously?  God intervened at this point, and I spotted a Corolla vacating a parking spot- at the speed of frozen molasses, but vacating none the less.   Breath... GOOSEFRABBA! GOOSEFRABBA! GOOSEFRABBA!

I don't know why I was in hurry.  And I really don't know why I didn't take the time to pee.  I paid for this dearly.  I spent the next 45 minutes wearing a paper shirt that didn't fit quite right and dancing around like a 3 year old while trying to calm myself down.  Enter Dr. Peters just as I was contemplating making a run down the hallway for the bathroom.  "Let's see!"  He didn't have to ask me twice.  He cocks his head to check out the purple phenomenon, and pokes at my right exapander, twice.  He finally says "It's okay, I thought it was going to be much worse!".  I am guessing that the expander responded properly.  I am relieved to hear that this is more than likely caused by tissue and blood vessel regeneration, as the tissue and blood vessels that had been there for the first 39 years of my life had found there way into a hazardous waste pile back in June.

There has been a slight change in plan due to this recent development.  I have 4 more regular radiation treatments left, and then I am scheduled for 5 "BOOST" treatments which were to be aimed at my scars on both breasts.  Seeing as how the right breast is somewhat delicate, we are going to forgo the boost treatments on the right breast so that we don't risk damaging it.  

I spent the evening last night attempting to return my heart to a healthy rate and smothering my upper body with coconut oil which made me irresistible to the boxers....  I cannot stand feeling like me skin is about to crack right in half.

My body just doesn't handle stress well anymore, unfortunately.  I was very thankful last night for my sweet, adoring little boxers who refused to leave my side and my good friend M who most certainly always makes pulling me down off the ladder look very easy!

Thank God yesterday is over with! I hope I never have another Monday like that one ever again!

It's A Lot Like Groundhog Day, The Movie

Well, here I am.  Over 1/2 way through radiation.  I have now had 20 treatments, just 13 more to go.  It feels a lot like the movie, "Groundhog Day".   I just keep doing the same thing over and over, day after day.  Every day for 33 days (with a break on the weekends) at 10:45, strip down, jump up on the table, and try not to pay attention to the burning smell... After all, the smell is in your head and not real.  (Don't ask, I can't explain it!)

But seriously, I'm faring somewhat well with this part of my cancer journey.  My skin, other than a terribly itchy rash covered mess, is holding up quite nicely.  I have adapted a very interesting routine to keep it mending after they hit me every day: aloe, itch relief, aloe, itch relief, aloe, itch relief, and finally a nice paste of salt and baking soda to end out the day.  I get extremely tired every day around 6:00, it's a crazy kind of tired really, sometimes it's all I can do to hold my eyes open any longer.  Other than the tired thing, and the rash thing, the only other problem is that I can't really stand the sun and the heat right now.  I'm assuming that will go away once treatment ends.

I'm having an issue with my brain.  I'm not sure really why I am having these issues.  I can't concentrate on anything, and I don't seem to be accomplishing any of the items on my "to do" list.  It's making me crazy, I am a goal oriented person.  Or at least I was a goal oriented person.  I read something, and 5 minutes later have absolutely no recollection of any of it.   (If you need a partner in crime, I would probably be a good candidate, I'm not gonna remember anything!)  I start doing things, and can't remember what I'm doing.  I really thought chemo brain was gone, obviously it hadn't gone away, it just took a short vacation, and that sucker has returned.

I meant to blog yesterday (but forgot... see what I mean?) because it was my 4 month anniversary of my last mega dose of chemo.  Woo hoo... 4 months!  My body is starting to return to normal- my hair is growing in nicely (although not yet long enough for those extensions that I'm dying for), and my fingernails are almost completely grown out.  I'm having some issues with my eyelashes and eyebrows.  Both hung on the whole way through chemo, I thought I was going to be spared.  Then about a month after chemo ended, I noticed that my usually sparse eyebrows were even more sparse.  They didn't fall out completely, just in places.  Go figure.  I thought that was the end of the hair loss trials, but I was wrong.  2 months ago, I notice that no matter how much mascara I applied, my eyelashes just weren't "popping".... then it dawned on me, they must have decided to fall out too.  Again, I wasn't eyelash-less, they were just really thin.  (That's a funny story, I figured if I couldn't plump up my eyelashes with mascara, I would try applying the fake ones.  After gluing my eye shut about 10 times, and ending up with an eyelash on my nose, I called in the dogs and peed on the fire!)

And this folks, we call progress...