For You to See

Honey bought me this hat today after all the tests and injections and scans were through! And I love wearing this shirt when I walk the halls of MD Anderson - countless number of people comment about it either to their companions or right up to me! They all like it, some love it, a few chuckle but almost everyone nods their head and agrees with it! When all else fails, throw a little bit of comic relief into the chaos of cancer!

Some dear family friends sent this to me, too and I thought ya'll might enjoy it!

Hope?

Have I mentioned that my positive attitude has been in the toilet lately? I am having trouble thinking and hoping for the best outcome lately. It just doesn't seem to work out that way. I know I should just be thankful that the tumor hasn't grown any since diagnosis but I'm sorry....that's just not enough for me. I want some GOOD NEWS. No. I NEED some GOOD NEWS. Just tell me it shrank just a little bit, please. Just show me on a scan that we are headed in the right direction. Please just promise me that it's not spreading anywhere else.

I've been experiencing a few mini-panic attacks every day these past couple of weeks. I know it's mostly just the chemo that's making me feel this way but it's been so difficult to clear my head and think and feel beyond the chemo. Even though I had a great time at the ACS's Look Good, Feel Better class last week and learned how to put all this nice make-up on my face and actually feel pretty once in a while, I still get startled when I look in the mirror and see my almost-bare scalp shining back at me just a few inches above that pretty make-up. Bald head = sick. I know it should be Bald head = fighting. I'm just not feeling strong enough lately.

Whoah don't get the wrong idea here. I am NOT giving up! No way. No how. Absolutely NOT! I will keep plugging away at this fight. I have a great team of doctors ready and able to treat me every step of the way and I know there are even more options to explore if it comes to that. I've also got all of you and many more supporting me all the way; propping me up when I falter. Thank you.

Pete is my rock right now. I know that no matter how weak and scared and hopeless I may feel at any given moment of the day, he is here with me, holding me tight, lining up and making plans for other options beyond this trip to Dr. Curley, hounding the insurance company and demanding they get me back on Avastin ASAP (he has even gone so far as to postpone the installment of our new carpeting in the house so that we can save that money and pay for AVastin out of pocket if they continue to turn us down!). And he also knows that I'm not always like this. This shadow of a patient that I feel like right now isn't the real me. He knows who and how I really am and he reminds me of it as often as possible just by loving me so much. Awwwwwwwww. :)

I've got a new therapist I'm going to start seeing probably next week. I got the referral from a family member that I trust dearly and I've already put a call into her (the therapist). Sure I procrastinated as long as humanly possible and didn't call her until 4:45 on Friday evening, knowing full well that I'd probably have (get!) to leave a message for her but hey...at least I called her, right?! Once I get through this trip and I start seeing this new therapist I'm sure I'll be back up on my emotionally strong "feet," so to speak. I take comfort in that.

Today I had a brief three-second fantasy about getting good news while we're down here this week. The details I will keep to myself since I do believe in wishing upon stars and that in order for those wishes to come true, you can't tell anybody your specific wish...the same might just hold true with fantasies like the one I had today! It was the most positive thought I've had in what seems like a looooooonnnng time! There must be something to be said for that.

We have a nice little suite here in Houston now, located right between our old apartment and the Proton Radiation treatment center. It's so weird that we now know our way around the city so well. Ok, so Pete knows his way around cause he does the driving but whatever!

Tomorrow is testing day. We had smooth travels today and all our luggage ended up with us, too! In fact, when we approached the company's desk from which I reserved a car for the week, we encountered an extremely long line of customers and only ONE measely person slowly plodding through getting them each a car. Well, this particular rental car company has commercials on TV lately that show a couple people excitingly using one of their fancy kiosks, checking themselves in so easily, it makes you WANT to rent a car from them! So, I scooted past the line, played the Touch-Screen-Tag Game at the kiosk and, in under 10 minutes, had a receipt in hand and the freedom to wander the parking garage and pick out a car of our choice! The same customer that approached the rental car desk when we arrived there was still at the counter when we left: everyone else in line looks irritated and impatient. We were quite proud of ourselves for avoiding such hassle and frustration! So, the next time YOU travel and need to rent a car, take it from me: it is WORTH reserving the car online from home before you travel so you can easily and quickly check yourself in and get your car upon your arrival to your destination!

We got some cute mid-sized Chevy thing that's bright cherry red. I call it The Cartoon Car cause that's what it looks like to me! Sorry, I don't remember what model it is...I'll have to get back to you on that one.

I'll let you know what happens in the next couple of days, too.

Back to Houston

This has got to be a quick one because we are busy preparing to leave for Houston tomorrow!

Alright, the week has been fine. I slept most of Tuesday afternoon and all of Wednesday. The port placement went fine, as Maggie said, and it's healing well. It looks worse than it really is because the nurse who taped the bandages on after the procedure was completed was very sloppy in doing so and now I have several painful and tender welts on my skin. Owie! But I'm treating it with nice lotion and should heal up....well....someday!

Tonight we're going to Dad and Carol's for a birthday party for Carol's daughter/my friend Carrie! YAY!

Tomorrow morning, we're dropping the pups off at their favorite Pet Hotel where they get two playtimes each day that we're gone and two treats of doggie "ice cream" too! Then to the airport for an 11:30 am departure.

Monday morning, bright and early, I have a CT scan at MD Anderson.

Tuesday we plan to go visit the Positive Mental Attitude Gazebo, our pals at the Proton Radiation Treatment Center, and pick up Frank at the airport. Hopefully we'll get to have dinner with Deborah and Bill while we're in town this week, too!

Wednesday morning, bright and early again, we meet with Dr. Curley. He could say the radiation and chemo has done their job and it's time to book an operating room to get that tumor outta here! He could also say that my liver is still too swollen to determine the success of the proton radiation treatments and to come back in a month or so to look again (fun! NOT!). He could say it didn't work at all.......? That's where my mind goes blank and I rely on Pete and Frank to lead the way. They've got all sorts of options lined up for me if that's the case so I know I am in good hands no matter what!

Also, we return Thursday evening and then Friday it's back to chemo. Pete has been working with a Patient Advocate at our insurance company in his effort to get me back on the drug Avastin. Regardless of their decision between now and then, Friday we intend to get me the Avastin anyway...we are prepared to pay the bill out of pocket if need be. My intuition tells me that the Avastin was working well for me last year and that I should get right back on it as soon as possible. So that's what's happening.

I'm a nervous wreck about this trip but trying very hard to put our meeting with Curley to the back of my mind. We are flying the same airline we flew in early December...the one that mistakenly sent my baggage to Dallas instead of Houston, leaving me without clothes, toiletries and oh, ALL OF MY ESSENTIAL PRESCRIPTION MEDICATIONS! I've learned my lesson though! The drugs are coming with me in the carry-on. Right next to my books, magazines, DS, and laptop!

Please pump up those prayers to full force if you can for this trip. My Honey and I are wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy beyond overdue for some damn GOOD NEWS!

I will try to post again from Houston.

Shhh, be vewy quiet - she's sleeping

Wow, I feel famous guest posting here on AbbeyCadabbey’s blog! She gets hundreds of readers a month – and here I find myself under the pressure of writing exceptionally well, so as not to disappoint Abbey or her readers!

Anyway, it's just Maggie here, and Abbey asked me to write up a quick somethin’-somethin’ so that you all would know that she’s doing just fine. She got a brand new port installed yesterday, and the procedure went just as quickly and smoothly as she promised it would.

The drawback from yesterday’s procedure is that Abbey is finding herself sleeping through the days. She’s been very good about taking her naps and letting her body recuperate and adjust. I asked her this morning if she’s “cool” with all the napping and resting and she said that she is! Sometimes a warrior employs silence as a lethal weapon.

Unfortunately for us, though, that means that the e-mails and text messages have slowed down. I’m learning a new lesson in patience as I wait to get my Abbey-Fix! In fact, Abbey said she hasn’t even been on her computer for a few days (and shhhh, don’t tell.. but… I think she’s enjoying the technology break!)

Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Honey are heading to Texas this Sunday for some more medically advanced goodness there. I bet we’ll be hearing more from one of them before they depart.

In the meantime, consider leaving a comment here asking Abbey to blog all about the LGFB workshop that she attended! (This workshop, by the way, was put on by the American Cancer Society – a society that I truly believe in and volunteer with on a regular basis.)

One last thing: If you feel compelled to donate to the ACS, you please do so by following this link You can donate a few dollars in Abbey's honor or buy her a luminaria that will be displayed at the Relay in my town this summer. This shameless plug was authorized by Abbey herself. :)

Abbey says thanks for stopping by and come back soon for a more entertaining/engaging update!

A Letter to My Chemo Drug

))sarcasm alert!((

Dear Docetaxel (aka Taxotere),

First, allow me to thank you for the prolific outbreak of acne you gave me as soon as you entered my world! There's really nothing like being 33 years old and looking like a pizza-faced adolescent again! My forehead, my nose, my cheeks and the areas of my neck just below the ear lobes were really lacking something before you came along. Little did I know that you had the cosmetic answer to my clear skin ordeals! And I have had a great time flushing hundreds of dollars down the drain as I futilely purchased dozens of facial soaps, scrubs and exfoliators to try to diminish the acne outbreak. If only these pimples came with braces and a piano to neglect practicing, my life would be perfect!

Secondly, the way you are able to wipe out the majority of my precious white blood cells is not only admirable, it's borderline heroic! It's not like I was actually using them anyway! Really, I had far too many than necessary for the normal person! If you hadn't come along and wiped so many of them out in one fell swoop, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of giving myself a daily Neupogen shot for three days, two weeks in a row. And do you even know of all the wonderful feelings those shots always give me?! The constant ache in the deepest parts of my pelvic bones, lower spine, hips and legs are physical side effects I never would have imagined could feel so great! How did you know I'm such a glutton for pain?

Thirdly, the extreme and constant exhaustion you and your chemo cohorts bring me is one of the funnest things I've ever....ZZZZzzzzzzZZZZzzzzz.....

Furthermore, the sore gums and tongue, the constant tenderness of my skin and muscles all over my body, the frequent bouts of nausea either when I'm not eating, before I eat, after I eat, or while I'm eating; these are all even more benefits with which you have enhanced my life!

But truly, finally, absolutely the best side effect that you bring to me as you relentlessly kick this awful tumor's ass* has got to be the chunks of hair you have caused to fall out of my head exactly two weeks after you were administered to me! Before today, I was getting carried away with the enjoyment I derived from growing my hair back out from last year's depletion! Everybody was complimenting me on how great my hair looked; I got to have my first haircut at a salon in well over a year; I had finally found the perfect styling gel that allowed me to make thick, chunky spikes out of my extremely dark brown locks; and I was even fantasizing about the day that would soon come where I could style my hair like 'Daphne,' a cute little character on NBC's show Heroes (minus the white dye job)! Thankfully, you came along just in time to put me back in my place! Who needs hair anyway? As a woman who has regularly enjoyed obsessing over the next great style, color, highlights or cut with my mother, maybe I was just way out of control. My hair is really too thick to maintain the perfect style, shades of highlights or length in a practical manner. So I thank you, my husband thanks you, and my stylist thanks you for coming back and letting my hair fall out so quickly that it clogged up the shower drain, not once, but twice this morning! That was F. U. N.!

I am amazed at how powerful a drug you truly are! I only got one dose of you two weeks ago exactly, and you immediately started showering me with all of the aforementioned gifts. I am beyond grateful for all these things; I also find myself with a renewed sense of hope: Hope that you are just as powerful at annihilating, terrorizing, killing and flushing away this obnoxious tumor from my body.* It would be a pity if you, instead, spent all your valuable energy on my hair, my complexion, my white blood cell counts, leaving none behind for you to do your job on my tumor. Please don't do that. Save some up. I'll take all of these funky side effects in stride as I always have if you can promise me that you'll do, along with your more frequently-administered buddy Gemcitabine, everything in your power to rid me of this cancer.

While you're doing that, I'll be here waiting patiently with my bald head, my spotchy red face, aching bones, tender skin, sore mouth and relentless nausea because that's all I can do. Well, that, and pray.

Sincerely,
Abbey Keller

* - This part is not to be taken sarcastically. This is actually a truthful feeling.

Will Americans Ever Be Satisfied?!

(It happens once every blue moon or so that I wax political. This is one of those blue moons!)

So, everyone (ie. a wide variety of significant figures in the media) was all in an uproar when we found out that AIG gave out millions of dollars of their bailout money to employees as bonuses. As well we should be. I heard people all over the news shows griping about it and wagging fingers, insisting that the U.S. Government FORCE those AIG Big Wigs to give back that money! Come hell or high water, THEY MUST RETURN THAT MONEY!

(No, I am not including any links to any news stories because they are all biased on either side of the party line and, as an Independent, I am not interested in posing my complaints towards one side or the other thankyouverymuch! You know what I'm talking about here and you are more than welcome to seek out the news briefings of your choice.)

Since apparently they cannot make AIG return the money, and not all the bonus-recipients volunteered to give their shares back, the government decided to tax them BIG time on it (I've heard rumors anywhere between 90%-98%). Now all of a sudden, the general population of the media is FURIOUS about this tactic! Of course it infringes on our civil rights! And of course it's a bad idea beause once you start picking individual Americans to be taxed up the watoosee, who's to stop you from taxing other random Americans at different amounts?! If your last name ends with R but doesn't begin with the letters B through L, then you will only be taxed 10%...unless your natrual hair color is brown, then you will be taxed at 20%. Sure, I get that. I really really do.

But COME ON PEOPLE! Will Americans never be satisified?!?!

Additionally, for a while there, everyone was all pissed off because President Obama seemed to just be ignoring the whole situation as he bounced around the country trying to stitch up other loose ends of our failing economy. (*Sarcasm Alert!*) The NERVE of him to ignore the AIG crisis! (*End of Sarcasm!*) But then when he finally made a statement about it and declared he would take full responsibility for the problem at hand, those same people who were complaining about his silence were complaining about what he decided to say!

To the mass media and the Americans that call in to these radio and TV talk shows only to bitch and complain, I wish to say: WHAT. DO. YOU. PEOPLE. WANT?!?!?!

They remind me of a fussy toddler who's so hungry he can't decide what to eat. Nothing you offer the child seems good enough for him (except candy, of course!). And it's only because he's all worked up on an empty stomach and doesn't have the wherewithall to take what he can get and be satiated for a few more hours.

Hmm. Now it's starting to make sense.

I heard somewhere long ago that Politics in this country is really all about a bunch of adults playing together like a bunch of toddlers, throwing sand at one another in the sandbox. Well, if that's the case then this preschool teacher is about to kick everyone out of the sandbox and order everyone to TAKE A TIME OUT!!!!

(I won't debate this issue through the comments section but please do feel free to leave your own opinion because I am curious about how other people think!)

The Ol Radio Show

Do you subscribe to XM or Sirius Radio? Do you ever listen to the Doctor Radio channel? Well you might want to tune in today or tonight because two people that I admire in the world of young adults with cancer are going to be on there speaking out and spreading more awareness! This is who they are to me:

1) The website geared towards young adults (15-39) with cancer: I'm Too Young For This (i2Y, for those of us "in the know") was one of the first websites I found to be extremely helpful in the early days of my diagnosis. The site was founded by Matthew Zachary, another young adult cancer survivor and a strong spokesperson for our unique age group. For a long time I listened to the radio show called The Stupid Cancer Show via podcasts on iTunes, which Zachary DJs (is that the right word?). With this site and radio show in my pocket, I didn't feel so alone in this 30something confusing world of cancer and learned about some of the newest techniques being used in treating some of the trickiest cancers.

2) The newly published book: Everything Changes: The Insider's Guide to Cancer in Your 20s and 30s is my newest addiction! In the whole world of Amazon.com, this is the first book I could find that is geared specifically toward us young adults with cancer. We have different issues, concerns, important life stages than the more common pediatric and older adult patients. People need to know that nearly 70,000 young adults between 15 and 39 years old are diagnosed with cancer every year. And we don't all just have breast cancer, either! I've had the good fortune to become friends with the author, Kariol Rosenthal, and via her blog of the same name, I've used many of the valuable tips and tricks she offers up on there. Recently, she has agreed to help mentor and coach me through my first attempt at writing and publishing my own book on the subject!

(This radio podcast, all three websites and that incredible book are also priceless tools for caregivers, friends and family of us young adult cancer patients. If you're interested in advocating for our group or learning more about us, please check them out! And stay tuned here for an official book review of Everything Changes in the comming weeks!)

Okay, so, now you know those people and their web sites.

What you need to know next is that these two individuals (Kariol Rosenthal and Matthew Zachary) were featured live on the Sirius and XM Radio show "Oncology" on the Doctor Radio channel (Sirius 114 & XM 119)! The show played at 2pm EST today, but will replay tonight at 10pm EST (that's 8pm Mountain time!) and again on Sunday at 2pm EST! PLEASE tune in and give a listen to these awesome young adults who happen to have cancer and are speaking loudly to alert the world of our presence! They also spread the word of the immediate need for doctors to take us seriously so that they can detect cancer in its early stages for others in our generation!

Kairol says on her Facebook page: "If you are not a member of Sirius Radio you can LISTEN FREE ONLINE by signing up for a free three day trial: http://www.sirius.com/freetrial/register. "

Tune in!

Got to love the AutoPay

I just spent the past hour setting up several of our household bills to be paid automatically.

And I paid off and closed a credit card that was once a good idea but has become the bane of my existence lately. Horray!

These things please me more than you will ever know!

Blech

Chemo makes me feel yuck.

My eyeballs even hurt. What's that about?

I retract that question. If I've learned anything from chemo thusfar, it's that all these strange ailments/side effects/treatment symptoms A) can easily be blamed on chemo and B) has no rhyme or reason as to why they exist.

Okay then. It's back to bed for me.

The flip side

Tuesday's "Bad Day" turned out to be just that...just one bad day. It passed and the past couple days since have been much better!

Now that I'm back on "the juice" it has been taking its toll on me this week. I'm tired, run down, no appetite, after I do eat (only because I'm supposed to) I feel nauseated, achy back and hips (thank you, Neupogen), etc etc. Plus I was pretty moody earlier this week. I'd like to sincerely apologize to anyone reading this who I may have offended in the process.

I feel infected again. Not sick, just...not "normal" like I had been these past couple of months. My liver has been hurting quite a bit but I know it's just mad because of the chemo that's flooding it and fighting off the tumor on top. When it hurts like that, I mentally (sometimes verbally) say to it stuff like, "Yeah! You don't like that do you?! Not comfortable, huh? Well you'd better just pick up and move on, Mr. Tumor, cause it's not going to get any more comfortable for you around this body, thankyouverymuch." That's right. I talk smack to my tumor. The aforementioned apology to those I may have offended earlier this week does NOT apply to Mr. Tumor! Not one bit. I am not sorry. Stupid tumor.

Yesterday morning I saw this story on the Today show about a little girl who had SIX of her organs temporarily removed in order for a surgeon (a liver transplantation surgeon, as a matter of fact) to cut out a dangerously-located tumor from her body. The organs were put on ice while the surgeon cut out the tumor and constructed a new stomach for her out of her own bodily tissues and then put the organs back into her and stitched her back up. The surgery took 24 hours. The girl is now thriving and smiling and back on her feet! I WANT TO BE THAT LITTLE GIRL!

In the midst of that story, when the reporter was introducing the surgeon and his awesome skills, they briefly mentioned an older woman who had what had been previously determined as an unresectable tumor in her gut actually removed by this incredible doctor and now she is cancer free! I WANT TO BE THAT OLD WOMAN!

His name is Dr. Kato and you can click here for a peek at (what I call) his "mad skills" in saving lives.

After seeing this and frantically scribbling down notes, including the doc's name and location (New York), I promptly decided that instead of fearing and dreading this upcoming appointment I have at MD Anderson at the end of the month to see how well (or if) the proton radiation did at shrinking my tumor so that Dr. Curley can cut it out, I'm going to go in there already expecting to get a brand spanking sparkling new FIFTH (or is this sixth???) OPINION from Dr. Kato!

Curley let me down the last time I saw him. Yeah, it's great that he got me lined up to receieve the magical proton radiation treatments and for that I will always be grateful. But his attitude towards me and this tumor in early December was almost as hopeless as I had heard from the oncology surgeon in Denver last spring. When Curley said to me, "Frankly, if this radiation doesn't work then there's really not more we can do," the bottom of my faith in him dropped out. Many people assure me that he didn't mean he was giving up on me. Instead, they say, he was just saying that radiation treatment on the liver is just a one time thing - it's far too toxic for the liver to withstand more than the 28 radiation treatments that I got in one lifetime. That makes perfect sense to me and sure, maybe that's what he meant. I've even gone so far as to excuse that brush off attitude from him on he was just having a bad day and unfortunately I got the resulting attitude from that bad day. But that doesn't mean I'm going to settle for his opinion, even if it was just a bad day. This is my LIFE we are talking about, here. I will NOT SETTLE for ANYTHING!

I do still believe Curley's and Kane's and Gupta's and everyone else's medical-degree-backed assessment that I've only got one working artery left in my liver and it is that artery that needs to be salvaged in order to cut out the tumor. I get that. No problem. I don't doubt for a second that that's true. But I think there's got to be some other way to snip snip carefully around that area to remove the tumor and save the artery.

So, I'm enlisting my Research and Education Team again to look more into this Dr. Kato and possibly line me up with an appointment with him. I am willing to go through a whole new battery of tests, should he request that of me, just so I can get his opinion. And if he gives me the big thumbs down on taking this monster out of me, then I'll just go get me yet another (SEVENTH???) opinion. Someone, somewhere has to be confident enough in their skills as a surgeon to be able to defy all these odds with me! It's just a matter of me (and my team) seeking him or her out and shaking his or her hand.

Instead of fear, I choose power. Instead of dread, I choose knowledge. Instead of panic and worry and desperation and loss, I choose determination and education and motivation and empowerment. Even on my bad days to come (and trust me, there will be more...EVERYONE has bad days!), I will remember and feel this in my heart. And I ask all of you, my amazing, incredible, fabulous, and (surprisingly) ever-growing support system of friends and family to back me up on this and turn your prayers now to this new, or, rather, enhanced direction. I will not succumb and I will not settle. I deserve only the best. Just like that little girl and that older lady on TV.

And, like my favorite affirmation hanging on the wall says, "I am a medical miracle" afterall!

oh Yeah, one of THOSE days

Something in my gut told me today wasn't going to be a good one.

Probably I should've stayed in bed.

Favorite Book EVER!

Many many years ago, my dear mother introduced me to the eloquent writings of John Irving. She did so by presenting me with the novel, A Prayer for Owen Meany. Amazon.com reviews the book as:

Owen Meany is a dwarfish boy with a strange voice who accidentally kills his best friend's mom with a baseball and believes--accurately--that he is an instrument of God, to be redeemed by martyrdom. John Irving's novel, which inspired the 1998 Jim Carrey movie Simon Birch, is his most popular book in Britain, and perhaps the oddest Christian mystic novel since Flannery O'Connor's work. Irving fans will find much that is familiar: the New England prep-school-town setting, symbolic amputations of man and beast, the Garp-like unknown father of the narrator (Owen's orphaned best friend), the rough comedy. The scene of doltish the doltish headmaster driving a trashed VW down the school's marble staircase is a marvelous set piece. So are the Christmas pageants Owen stars in. But it's all, as Highlights magazine used to put it, "fun with a purpose." When Owen plays baby Jesus in the pageants, and glimpses a tombstone with his death date while enacting A Christmas Carol, the slapstick doesn't cancel the fact that he was born to be martyred. The book's countless subplots add up to a moral argument, specifically an indictment of American foreign policy--from Vietnam to the Contras. The book's mystic religiosity is steeped in Robertson Davies's Deptford trilogy, and the fatal baseball relates to the fatefully misdirected snowball in the first Deptford novel, Fifth Business. Tiny, symbolic Owen echoes the hero of Irving's teacher Günter Grass's The Tin Drum--the two characters share the same initials. A rollicking entertainment, Owen Meany is also a meditation on literature, history, and God. --Tim Appelo --This text refers to the Mass Market Paperback edition.

I fell in love with it and Irving himself within the first 10 pages of the book! Then promptly went on to read several of this other titles, including, but certainly not limited to: The World According to Garp, Hotel New Hampshire (a close second favorite!), and several others. (Don't tell Irving, but I was sorely disappointed with his last two most recent novels!)

Anyway, I love Owen Meany that I've read it three, maybe four times over! Earlier this week I got an email from the Denver Center for Performing Arts that invited me to see Owen Meany on the stage! Looksee:
I bought us two reasonably-priced ($47) tickets to a Saturday matinee showing on April 11! If you live or are going to be in Denver on that date and you'd like to see this performance with us, please do! Don't hesitate to contact me so we can try to sit near each other and probably get together or afterward for a visit!

OWEN MEANY ON THE BIG STAGE!!! It's enough to give me "the SHIVERS!!!!!!"

Am I Actually Looking Forward to Chemo? and A Lunch Date Application Process

I'm the luckiest girl in the world!

Not only is my Honey taking me to chemo tomorrow, which is the first in almost 3 months and kinda scary as a result, but my one and only (but favoritest) daddy is joining us, too!!!

Honey and I will just do our thing, which I actually do enjoy, despite the purpose of our visit: joke around with the nurses and other staff members on the floor; look cautiously at other patients in our attempt at making new friends but failing miserably yet again (I've made two so far during treatments but they never keep in touch...I know they're busy kicking some cancer ass too); order sub sammiches from our favorite sub shop which happens to be on campus and delivers within TEN MINUTES I-kid-you-NOT!; I'll fall asleep while Honey either takes a million pictures or plays around on the "Interwebs."

But with my Daddy there, it's gonna be a whooooole different kind of party! I'm not sure how he does it but the last time he took me to chemo, it's like the time there flew by and I just happened to get a wee prick in the arm when I showed up. No big deal. It felt like I was in and out of there in a matter of minutes rather than the three or four hours it probably actually took!

Plus my dad and my Honey have become good pals over the years! It's fun to watch them shoot the breeze as men do. Eventually, though, they'll both end up teasing me about something or other, probably having to do with the tubes I'm connected to or the loopy drugs that I get! They'll build off each others' antics while I smile and giggle and take it all in stride (usually. This all depends on my chemo mood!). Maybe the sooner I fall asleep the better, eh?

The first of the three weekly doses I get in a cycle is usually the hardest on me. And I have no idea how it will effect me after having already been through chemo for a year and then off for the past three months. Plus, I never started this same regimine of chemo drugs from scratch. When I did start it middle of last year, I was already on a different combo of drugs. This will be interesting.

In other news, I am currently accepting applications for potential lunch dates next week. I am available every day except Friday. Requirements are as follows:

• Applicant must be flexible enough to adapt should I have to cancel going out due to post-chemo-lack-of-energy.
• Should the afforementioned occur, applicant must be willing to urge me to permit him or her to come to my house for lunch, in lieu of going out.
• Applicant must currently either live in or visiting Colorado's Front Range at time of application. If you live in Kansas or elsewhere, please apply at a later, more appropriate date.
• Applicant must have his or her own means of transportation. Were I to meet him or her at a restaurant, I will only be driving myself or myself and my dogs.
  
• If the applicant is a certain someone I went to high school with and currently works at Children's Hospital, she must accept my apology for not being able to commit to lunch this coming Wednesday earlier. All other applicants must understand that this particular person has first dibs on lunch with me on Wednesday!
  
• Applicant must have a sense of humor and the ability to recognize that I'm really not this arrogant as to require APPLICATIONS for lunch dates! He or she better laugh at this before 'applying.'

Applications can be emailed to me at: garnet at myhoneyandme dot com. Deadline is...there is no deadline because I hate that word deadline. Take your time! I'll be here.

Things that make you go....WTF?!?!

I was at a certain drug store this morning (the one that sounds like "fallbeans") and discovered that they sell a "DNA Paternity Test" for home use! Who knew it was that easy!? On TV they always have to take a swab of the inside of your cheek or a sample from a hair brush or something. But the cops always do it...or a special medical genetic office type place. You almost never see mom and daughter settling down with a big ole' DIY kit at the kitchen table with mom saying, "Okay, Brittany. Now we will find out just who is your real daddy! MWAHAHAH!" on the Chick Channel (sounds like...well...it's Lifetime). Am I right??

The box is rather large and it's burgandy-colored with a white shadow outline of a guy lifting up a toddler in a cute and playful manner. Like, "WEEEE! I'm your REAL daddy now!! WEEEE!"

That was rather odd.

It's All OK

Things went well today at the doctor's. No new growth. No spreading. Nothing. No change. Except that now we can sort of see the direct line where the radiation beam started and ended across the upper view of my liver! It was really kinda cool. Granted, it was three zillion shades of gray to keep track of but still, we saw it!

Liver's still swollen from the radiation but it's improving. Doc says that by the time we get to Curley at MD Anderson at the end of the month it should be fine to look at again.

I start chemo on Friday. Back in the saddle (or dragged behind it, however you choose to look at it!).

I walk to find a new way to believe

I took a walk around the neighborhood. I brought Dobby with me and we cleared our heads (and his bladder) for a half an hour. The weather is sunny and warm and there are some kids out playing and dogs in their yards barking and it was lovely.

I was able to tuck away the fear from my previous post. I thought about something I'd been wanting to write about but just...well, no reason I just haven't. So here...

While we were in Houston, during the course of one week I received a couple of care packages from two different friends. One was a small set of prayer beads that I had previously discussed with an artist/blog friend of mine. She made it from a variety of beads, including rose quartz and amethyst, with a silver ring charm in the middle with an encouraging word. The other gift was a single word made out of a slivery material encrusted with sparkley and big rhinestones (I call this last one my "bling!"). I brought these two things home and just last week began to set them, along with all of my other "talismans" on a special table next to our bedroom. This table already had a couple of things on it that I'd previously received from friends, like a plaque, a small statue of a baby dinosaur with a goofy grin on his face, etc. As I lay those two new trinkets upon that table, it struck me that these two, and the one older plaque, all have something in common and that something is rather significant to me. They all include the word, "BELIEVE."

The prayer beads has the silver ring in the middle of it and on the ring the word BELIEVE is enscribed on it.

My "Bling" word is actually the word BELIEVE.

And the plaque I'd gotten almost a year ago from a distant (but close to my heart) friend says BELIEVE all over it!

Duhh. I knew what they all said because I can obviously read! But I didn't know how much it meant to me until I brought them all together on that table.

It got me asking myself, "Believe what?" and "How can I believe in anything?" and "I've believed before but it never worked out anyway so why bother?" But I kept thinking about it and I've tried to believe many things these last few months.

Today on my walk as I cleared my head, again I contemplated this word BELIEVE. At first glance, I can't help but notice the word sort of looks like it says, "BE ALIVE" to me. Aside from that, I started asking myself, "What do you already believe, without question and without doubt?" And I started a list in my head:
That I love my husband with all my heart and soul and that he loves me back just as much.
That I have many blessings such as my house, my healthy family, my dogs, my cats, our stability of life.
That I am healthy right now.
That I'm not bedridden or feeling awful or jaundiced. In fact, when people cross my path they probably have no idea that I have cancer.
That the catchphrase, "Cancer is a word, not a [death] sentence!" is acutally true.

I went on to consider the power of believing because I really think that power can work to make things better. So I narrowed my thought process down to, "What do you believe about this tumor right this minute?"
I believe that this tumor has not spread to other parts of my body.
I believe that this tumor has actually shrunk in size (despite it's swollen-ness post-radiation).
I believe that I am winning this battle against cancer.
I believe that I will see this challenging time through and go on to live a long, healthy and happy life with my husband, my family, my friends and my children-to-be.

And it wasn't like I had to convince myself that all of that were true because I already know that they are! If you believe something strong enough, it can be true. And I realized that my extreme fear was just counterproductive to what I intend to achieve here and that is good health, happiness and peace.

So I'm not dwelling on the darkness anymore and I've put an end to feeling sorry for myself (for now). See how quickly I can pick myself up and dust myself off and go about my life after falling hard to the ground? By this point, you probably would expect nothing less of me, huh?! :)

That's what I believe.

Fear is innevitable

I am terrified today.

This afternoon we meet with my doctor to go over the results of last week's CT scan. I didn't think it would be this big of a deal to me but ever since I climbed onto that CT bench and went through the donut, I can't stop repeating her (doc's) words in my head, "I want to see if it has spread anywhere else." This phrase means a lot more to me than it may to all of you.

To me it means that I may have neglected the rest of my body just for the sake of getting that proton radiation done in Houston. Sure sure, hopefully it helped stop the growth of the tumor in that one particular spot. And I'm not entirely sure but I *think* since the appetures and plastic block thingies with those big cut-outs look like the outline to this tumor, that the radiation wasn't just hitting ONE particular site, but the entire surface of the tumor. Sure, it targeted its beam more deeply into that one special area but I'm hoping, though I don't know for sure if, it encapsulated the entire tumor surface while it was at it. Surely it did. Surely we didn't all just ignore the rest of the tumor just for one little part of it, right?

I think I should've had chemo while I was getting those radiation treatments. And if we find out today that the tumor has spread, then I believe it is my fault for not making sure the chemo continued even though I was in another state for two months.

This is also what binds me up inside and scares the crap out of me.

I already know you can't go back in time and change your decisions. Of course I know that...I forgot to "freeze my eggs," or whatever.

But if it has spread...then I feel pretty doomed.

One place is pretty bad. Two places is the worst. To me it means the end.

I am t.e.r.r.i.f.i.e.d.
Several people tell me not to worry about it, don't think about it, there's nothing you can do to control the outcome at this point. I know they mean well, I really do. But this is my life we're talking about. If it were your life, how likely would it be that you wouldn't think about it almost constantly and fear fear fear the outcome? How can I not? What the hell else is there for me to do about it???

Yeah, there are lots of spaces of time these past few days when I really forgot all about it. That was good. Honey even stayed to work from home today just so I could have his energy around me which always helps me feel safe. But right now it's creeping up on me and scaring me.

If the news is not good, I'm not sure what I'll do this afternoon besides cry for a few hours before figuring out the next step.

If the news is good then I want to go celebrate and put it far far away out of my mind.

Fear sucks.
I'm going to walk the dogs.
They say that's good for anxiety. And only about a zillion other things, too.