The most important thing to happen this week is that I am getting an A+ in chemo-therapy. It's not enough that I am doing well, in order to be appropriately motivated I require a letter grade showing that I am annihilating both cancer, and the other cancer patients that on some level I feel like am competing against. My doctor seemed somewhat taken aback when I asked for an objective letter grade, and tried to explain that it's not a competition.
Yeah right. Does he know me at ALL?!? Once he told me I was getting an "A" we could get back to a constructive conversation. A grade of "A" (plus) means that I am tolerating the interferon really well, my liver is hardly bothered with it, and I am experiencing minimal side effects.
Any cool new side effects this week? YES!!! I can belch like an Ogre! I have never been a powerful belcher before, and it's a skill I have often admired in others. this week I have developed insane heartburn in concert with FABULOUS extra loud belching abilities. so Cool. I have to remember that not everyone (Co-workers, supermarket patrons, Judges) are as thrilled as I am with my new gift. I get to take Prilosec to get rid of the heartburn, but luckily it is minimally effective against gas. HAHAHAHAHA.
Today's cancer incident: I have a button that I wear on my coat that says "Cancer sucks". I got it when my mom was sick, and since I still have it, I recycled it. today as I was heading into my office a homeless guy asked if I had a buck. I said sure, and reached into my bag to give him a dollar. as I was handing it to him he noticed my button and said "oh man, do you have cancer?" I said yeah, here's your dollar. Then the homeless guy starts arguing with me about not taking my money because I have cancer and apparently when you are a homeless guy you don't take money from people with cancer? what? TAKE MY DAMN DOLLAR! Homeless guy was very upset and said I was too young to die. so here I am comforting this homeless guy on the corner across from my office and trying to explain that I am not going to die, and he should really take my dollar. He just shook his head and wandered up the street sniffling to himself. what the hell? My dollar does not have cancer cooties.
Some things I am really tired of: Gatorade. Neon colored beverages with metallic aftertastes, and electrolytes are no longer on my menu. Fruit juice still tastes like juice. I have an appetite, but there is a funny metallic taste in my mouth that doesn't play well with others, so I am becoming more picky, even though I still get hungry. Since I have gained 5 pounds, no one (but me) is concerned about what I am eating.
Yesterday I forgot to eat lunch, so on the way to chemo I stopped for the world's most perfect cancer food, quarter pounder with cheese and large fries. Granted McD may be known to CAUSE cancer, but if you already have it, then what the hell. Think about it- Salt, calories, dairy, protein, it tastes exactly like it's supposed to, and goes down in big chunks. The nurses told me that most people don't bring fast food to chemo, but hey, it hit the spot. the other chemo patients think I am a weirdo anyway, I can't imagine why...
OK Catketeers, remember to look at your watches at 3:30 and yell FUCK Cancer! M-F central standard time. And if you are my sister, do not call me between 3:30-5:00 PM and ask what I am doing. No, I am not available, no I can't talk, yes, I am still getting chemo, no I am not mad at you.
And today marks the halfway done point! Hooray!
Friday, February 6, 2015
Friday, January 30, 2015
Chemo gives you super powers!
There are some things about chemo that are not widely publicized. When people discuss it, it's generally in broad terms, such as "Chemo sucks!", but not the specifics about what it's really all about.
First to our online guest, Ms. Lurleen Lumpkins who wins today's prize in "Guess that chemo Symptom!"Ms. Lumpkins guessed "Hyperactivity". Ms. Lumpkins will receive a month's supply of rice-a-roni!
When you start treatment you receive a helpful list of potential symptoms of chemo (in my case, interferon). There are many many possible symptoms ranging from the banal (aches and chills), to the extreme (crazy long eyelashes). No one gets ALL the symptoms, but everyone gets some of them. Some of them are very unusual. Almost everyone loses their appetite (not me). Almost everyone feels Fatigued (not me). Hyperactivity is one of the more unusual symptoms. Apparently it is not typical for people getting interferon treatment to bounce around in their ugly vinyl chair, sing aloud (needs more cowbell), and woof down snacks while hooked up. My nurse offered to tie me down. I think she was kidding. Maybe.
What about my new superpowers? SO COOL, I can taste the IV fluids! I can differentiate the taste of Saline (old people's basement), Interferon (like a dirty copper penny), and Heparin (ozony after a lightning storm). Obviously the IV is not going into my mouth, so logically this must mean I have superpowers. I asked them to try other things in my IV so I can test out my new skills but they said no. None of these taste awful, BTW, but it's real. Cheese-its help with the aftertaste.
My other superpower is a little harder to imagine a use for- I am in contact with the CIA to offer my services, but they may not be able to deploy me strategically either. My pee is toxic.
That's right. I have toxic pee. This has been one of the most amazing revelations about chemo therapy, and who ever talks about it? NO ONE! the government is trying to hush it up. I am a one woman killing machine, If I can just find something to pee on in the name of American Liberty. Apparently our wimpy water-saving home toilets cannot clear out the great toxic mess that is interferon pee in one flush. I require 2 flushes to protect my family, my pets and humanity.
You all watching at home are welcome to guess future symptoms. I may even tell you if you guess right.
People have been using words like "strong" and "brave" in conjunction with ME. Um no. My plan is to brat the cancer to death. Brave is the blind guy who rides my bus home, and travels all over the city not being able to see. I just decided that since this is MY cancer, and MY treatment, I am going to have to do it my way (EAR WORM!!!!!)
Why am I so casual about all of it? Am I yellah? Hell no. There is no way out but through. Besides, the week after my surgery in November I almost died in the hospital.
OOPs, look at the time- we'll continue THAT part of the story next time!
First to our online guest, Ms. Lurleen Lumpkins who wins today's prize in "Guess that chemo Symptom!"Ms. Lumpkins guessed "Hyperactivity". Ms. Lumpkins will receive a month's supply of rice-a-roni!
When you start treatment you receive a helpful list of potential symptoms of chemo (in my case, interferon). There are many many possible symptoms ranging from the banal (aches and chills), to the extreme (crazy long eyelashes). No one gets ALL the symptoms, but everyone gets some of them. Some of them are very unusual. Almost everyone loses their appetite (not me). Almost everyone feels Fatigued (not me). Hyperactivity is one of the more unusual symptoms. Apparently it is not typical for people getting interferon treatment to bounce around in their ugly vinyl chair, sing aloud (needs more cowbell), and woof down snacks while hooked up. My nurse offered to tie me down. I think she was kidding. Maybe.
What about my new superpowers? SO COOL, I can taste the IV fluids! I can differentiate the taste of Saline (old people's basement), Interferon (like a dirty copper penny), and Heparin (ozony after a lightning storm). Obviously the IV is not going into my mouth, so logically this must mean I have superpowers. I asked them to try other things in my IV so I can test out my new skills but they said no. None of these taste awful, BTW, but it's real. Cheese-its help with the aftertaste.
My other superpower is a little harder to imagine a use for- I am in contact with the CIA to offer my services, but they may not be able to deploy me strategically either. My pee is toxic.
That's right. I have toxic pee. This has been one of the most amazing revelations about chemo therapy, and who ever talks about it? NO ONE! the government is trying to hush it up. I am a one woman killing machine, If I can just find something to pee on in the name of American Liberty. Apparently our wimpy water-saving home toilets cannot clear out the great toxic mess that is interferon pee in one flush. I require 2 flushes to protect my family, my pets and humanity.
You all watching at home are welcome to guess future symptoms. I may even tell you if you guess right.
People have been using words like "strong" and "brave" in conjunction with ME. Um no. My plan is to brat the cancer to death. Brave is the blind guy who rides my bus home, and travels all over the city not being able to see. I just decided that since this is MY cancer, and MY treatment, I am going to have to do it my way (EAR WORM!!!!!)
Why am I so casual about all of it? Am I yellah? Hell no. There is no way out but through. Besides, the week after my surgery in November I almost died in the hospital.
OOPs, look at the time- we'll continue THAT part of the story next time!
Thursday, January 29, 2015
I thought you had cancer- Where you been?
Let's forget the fact that I haven't posted in a couple of months, and no one has any idea what's going on, or where I have been (I was recruited by a top secret agency in the US to fight crime, if you must know). My internal continuity editor won't let me skip the previously unrecorded gripping narrative, you WILL get to hear the whole story. But lets skip to now.
Chemo (interferon treatment is a type of chemo, so don't correct me) has been a great disappointment to me. It's no where near as glamorous as I thought it would be. Muscled adorable young men in short togas are NOT fanning me, and offering me peeled grapes while I lay back on a Victorian style chaise, and contemplate my mortality. There is NO tiara. seriously? Who can do chemo without a tiara? Who would even EXPECT me to?
So I wear my cat ears. I started Chemo on Monday, and just showed up in my cat ears. I have said nothing. The reception desk staff say nothing. The other patients say nothing. I think I caught the reception staff betting yesterday whether I'd show up in them again. The first 2 days I had a super ditzy nurse whom I am certain didn't even notice I was wearing cat ears (more about Nurse D later). Yesterday my nurse asked me why I was wearing cat ears, and the first thing that came out was "Because I can't find my pirate hat. Ahoy!".
So Picture me- wearing my cat ears, I-phone set to I-tunes, I have snacks (more on this later), beverages, a book, my Buffalo (thanks Auntie Kathy), my Dragun (Thanks Elaine), a magic rock, my blue snuggy, fuzzy socks and it's CHEMO TIME!!!
I have a PICC line (Peripherally inserted central catheter, I asked what it meant) in my right arm, that is an attractive lavender color, and there is a long purple tube that goes from the artery in my arm up through my chest and right down over my heart. When the IV is going, I get chilly heartburn. Doesn't hurt, just weird.
The Health Partners Cancer Center at Cedar-Riverside is not fancy. You can go into an individual room, sit in a big ugly vinyl recliner that gives you fruit roll up syndrome if your skin touches it (sticks, and then peels off the chair like a fruit roll-up off the wrapper), and watch the toxin drip into you. I did this the first 2 days. Nurse D didn't tell me there was an option, so I went into the room, arranged my stuff (snacks, beverages, buff, Dragun, rock, socks, etc), and watched the whole process of hooking me up with great interest. Nurse D is sweet, but does not inspire confidence, as she is extremely forgetful (forgets to bring me medication, forgets how to set up the IV machine, forgot which room I was in...)
The hook-up is pretty simple. The big thing about chemo is not getting dehydrated so they hook up the PICC to an IV drip for a bit to give me fluids, then switch to the bag of poison, and then I am done. Less then an hour start to finish. I occasionally yell "KILL KILL KILL!!!" and "DIE CANCER DIE!!!" just to make sure the toxin is doing it's job.
But yesterday I got asked if I wanted to go to "the big room". Hooray! It's like camp for people with cancer! The big room is AWESOME. It is full of ugly vinyl recliners lined up around the edges of the room, and the nurses station is in the center. So Much to see! other people's cancer is much more interesting then mine. There are inspirational posters on the wall, and pamphlets on the tables with titles like "How to eat with cancer". That one had me giggling for a bit. I listen to my specially crafted playlist, drink my vitamin water, and eat my snacks. I am partial to the rice crackers from Costco (the 3 pound bag with nuts in), but also cheese-its.
The other patients seemed baffled by my eating. LUCKY me, I appear to be the only person in the history of Chemo who's appetite actually increased. I am not getting over this without at least 20 pounds added, I just know it.
What is it like? Honestly, it's a pretty Jekyll and Hyde existence. I leave work at 3:00 to go to my appointment. M-f for 4 weeks, so every weekday at 3:20. I get the hook-up, drain the poison, eat the snacks, yell at my cancer, get unhooked, and go home. About an hour after I get home, I start the long slow slide into the BLECH. The blech is best described as flu-like symptoms, fever, aches, chills. I take anti-nausea pills twice a day. No, I am not nauseous, thanks for asking, THATS WHY I TAKE THE PILLS!!!. I also take Tylenol 3 times a day to keep down the fever. works great. I load up all the rest of my pills, crawl my shaky, shivery butt into bed, and fall asleep before 10.
The next morning the sun comes up, the birds are singing, the kitties are purring, and I feel AWESOME. No symptoms. I am at work right NOW and I feel just fine. I will until after I get home from chemo today and the Blech starts over again. BUT, it's OK. it's bearable. I have Netflix. even if I didn't have the Blech, I'd be in my jammies on the couch binge-watching Hoarders. It's all awesome. I have enjoyed watching people act surprised when I tell them I feel fine "Oh she's so brave!", No, I'm not. No I am not fronting an attitude. I am so happy to FINALLY be getting the treatment going that I feel great. more talk soon, time for toxin.
Chemo (interferon treatment is a type of chemo, so don't correct me) has been a great disappointment to me. It's no where near as glamorous as I thought it would be. Muscled adorable young men in short togas are NOT fanning me, and offering me peeled grapes while I lay back on a Victorian style chaise, and contemplate my mortality. There is NO tiara. seriously? Who can do chemo without a tiara? Who would even EXPECT me to?
So I wear my cat ears. I started Chemo on Monday, and just showed up in my cat ears. I have said nothing. The reception desk staff say nothing. The other patients say nothing. I think I caught the reception staff betting yesterday whether I'd show up in them again. The first 2 days I had a super ditzy nurse whom I am certain didn't even notice I was wearing cat ears (more about Nurse D later). Yesterday my nurse asked me why I was wearing cat ears, and the first thing that came out was "Because I can't find my pirate hat. Ahoy!".
So Picture me- wearing my cat ears, I-phone set to I-tunes, I have snacks (more on this later), beverages, a book, my Buffalo (thanks Auntie Kathy), my Dragun (Thanks Elaine), a magic rock, my blue snuggy, fuzzy socks and it's CHEMO TIME!!!
I have a PICC line (Peripherally inserted central catheter, I asked what it meant) in my right arm, that is an attractive lavender color, and there is a long purple tube that goes from the artery in my arm up through my chest and right down over my heart. When the IV is going, I get chilly heartburn. Doesn't hurt, just weird.
The Health Partners Cancer Center at Cedar-Riverside is not fancy. You can go into an individual room, sit in a big ugly vinyl recliner that gives you fruit roll up syndrome if your skin touches it (sticks, and then peels off the chair like a fruit roll-up off the wrapper), and watch the toxin drip into you. I did this the first 2 days. Nurse D didn't tell me there was an option, so I went into the room, arranged my stuff (snacks, beverages, buff, Dragun, rock, socks, etc), and watched the whole process of hooking me up with great interest. Nurse D is sweet, but does not inspire confidence, as she is extremely forgetful (forgets to bring me medication, forgets how to set up the IV machine, forgot which room I was in...)
The hook-up is pretty simple. The big thing about chemo is not getting dehydrated so they hook up the PICC to an IV drip for a bit to give me fluids, then switch to the bag of poison, and then I am done. Less then an hour start to finish. I occasionally yell "KILL KILL KILL!!!" and "DIE CANCER DIE!!!" just to make sure the toxin is doing it's job.
But yesterday I got asked if I wanted to go to "the big room". Hooray! It's like camp for people with cancer! The big room is AWESOME. It is full of ugly vinyl recliners lined up around the edges of the room, and the nurses station is in the center. So Much to see! other people's cancer is much more interesting then mine. There are inspirational posters on the wall, and pamphlets on the tables with titles like "How to eat with cancer". That one had me giggling for a bit. I listen to my specially crafted playlist, drink my vitamin water, and eat my snacks. I am partial to the rice crackers from Costco (the 3 pound bag with nuts in), but also cheese-its.
The other patients seemed baffled by my eating. LUCKY me, I appear to be the only person in the history of Chemo who's appetite actually increased. I am not getting over this without at least 20 pounds added, I just know it.
What is it like? Honestly, it's a pretty Jekyll and Hyde existence. I leave work at 3:00 to go to my appointment. M-f for 4 weeks, so every weekday at 3:20. I get the hook-up, drain the poison, eat the snacks, yell at my cancer, get unhooked, and go home. About an hour after I get home, I start the long slow slide into the BLECH. The blech is best described as flu-like symptoms, fever, aches, chills. I take anti-nausea pills twice a day. No, I am not nauseous, thanks for asking, THATS WHY I TAKE THE PILLS!!!. I also take Tylenol 3 times a day to keep down the fever. works great. I load up all the rest of my pills, crawl my shaky, shivery butt into bed, and fall asleep before 10.
The next morning the sun comes up, the birds are singing, the kitties are purring, and I feel AWESOME. No symptoms. I am at work right NOW and I feel just fine. I will until after I get home from chemo today and the Blech starts over again. BUT, it's OK. it's bearable. I have Netflix. even if I didn't have the Blech, I'd be in my jammies on the couch binge-watching Hoarders. It's all awesome. I have enjoyed watching people act surprised when I tell them I feel fine "Oh she's so brave!", No, I'm not. No I am not fronting an attitude. I am so happy to FINALLY be getting the treatment going that I feel great. more talk soon, time for toxin.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Thanks and more thanks!
I promised Dr. Dan that I would get a therapist on my cancer care team (so I don't throw myself under a bus when the interferon makes me more depressed then usual). My Therapist (Dr. Art) is really funny. He'd have to be to deal with me. After I asked him if he'd be part of my cancer care team, he asked some really great questions.
"What has surprised you the most in dealing with this?"
Hmmmmmmm. I'd have to say (as I told him) how AWESOME people have been. Not that people wouldn't have been awesome, but specifically, how much it touched me, that so many people cared about me and my health.
"well why wouldn't they care?"
GEEZ. I don't know, I say, awkwardly screwing the toe of my shoe into the health partners standard carpet, I am just surprised that people like me. That I have touched so many people, and they in turn respond with caring, and positive energy. I am a pretty private person, generally, but I try to be a good one. I just didn't really think about how fortunate I was in my friends and family until the chips were down.
Wow, when you get cancer you find out who your real friends are. EVERYONE. What a village!
I really need to send a shout out to my friends who are survivors, Peggy, Todd, Tracy, Marti, and others of you who have taken the time to relate a story or tip that they or their Family or friends went through. I have a GREAT list of things to ask for, look for, find, buy, read, and eat. Ute sent me a whole list of very well researched diet tips, friends are making food, and yes, there was another CAKE brought to the office (CAKE!!!!).
I didn't think how lucky I was to have such a great group of people. Your messages, positive energy, and humor have been fantastic. I know Eryc appreciates it too. I think it's worse for him in some ways, because he is dealing with his own stress, but also has to support me.
We really are doing OK right now. I know that things are going to get ICKY, as the MTB start progressing, and the interferon accumulates, but right now, I feel great, and have been getting ready to nest for the winter. I expect to come out of hybernation this spring like a butterfly straining to the sun! OK Barf, no, but I will be starting to feel better as the weather starts getting warmer, so it's not a bad thing to spend MN winter cooped up. Wouldn't YOU like to sleep through January?
I am having surgery on Wednesday to remove the rest of the lymph nodes from my right thigh. Hopefully Dr. Awesome Surgeon will also address the attractive golf ball sized blob of fluid left from the LAST lymph node removal. I am not sure where that is all supposed to go, but I know it AIN'T staying on my leg. sheesh.
I expect to be back at work on Monday (not very mobile), because I heal fast, and I get bored easily. Netflix for streaming sucks, and even all the episodes of Star Trek- Next generation can't keep me occupied forever.
Dr. Dan SAID I could start the interferon 3-4 weeks after surgery as long as I am healed so I don't get an infection. OK then. bring it.
One of you peeps mentioned that cancer is kind of depressing, and I should talk about something more uplifting. This is totally true. What else do I talk about? CATS!!!
This year at the Feline Rescue Speghetti Dinner Fundraiser (4/18/2015 put it on your calendars NOW). Boris the Incorrigible will be taking the paw of Triss the Dauntless Kitten in holy Catrimony! OMG what could be better then a Cat wedding! For those of you who are out of the loop, Triss was our foster kitten. We were planning to have her adopted (by other people, ideally) but she fell in love with Boris. Boris is a Feline Rescue Spokeskitty, and Therapy cat in training. He is very handsome, and a good influence. Anyway, at Feline Rescue we do not separate bonded pairs of cats. We ended up adopting Triss because she is my Cat's Girlfriend, and we felt horrible separating them. So here is their engagement pic:
"What has surprised you the most in dealing with this?"
Hmmmmmmm. I'd have to say (as I told him) how AWESOME people have been. Not that people wouldn't have been awesome, but specifically, how much it touched me, that so many people cared about me and my health.
"well why wouldn't they care?"
GEEZ. I don't know, I say, awkwardly screwing the toe of my shoe into the health partners standard carpet, I am just surprised that people like me. That I have touched so many people, and they in turn respond with caring, and positive energy. I am a pretty private person, generally, but I try to be a good one. I just didn't really think about how fortunate I was in my friends and family until the chips were down.
Wow, when you get cancer you find out who your real friends are. EVERYONE. What a village!
I really need to send a shout out to my friends who are survivors, Peggy, Todd, Tracy, Marti, and others of you who have taken the time to relate a story or tip that they or their Family or friends went through. I have a GREAT list of things to ask for, look for, find, buy, read, and eat. Ute sent me a whole list of very well researched diet tips, friends are making food, and yes, there was another CAKE brought to the office (CAKE!!!!).
I didn't think how lucky I was to have such a great group of people. Your messages, positive energy, and humor have been fantastic. I know Eryc appreciates it too. I think it's worse for him in some ways, because he is dealing with his own stress, but also has to support me.
We really are doing OK right now. I know that things are going to get ICKY, as the MTB start progressing, and the interferon accumulates, but right now, I feel great, and have been getting ready to nest for the winter. I expect to come out of hybernation this spring like a butterfly straining to the sun! OK Barf, no, but I will be starting to feel better as the weather starts getting warmer, so it's not a bad thing to spend MN winter cooped up. Wouldn't YOU like to sleep through January?
I am having surgery on Wednesday to remove the rest of the lymph nodes from my right thigh. Hopefully Dr. Awesome Surgeon will also address the attractive golf ball sized blob of fluid left from the LAST lymph node removal. I am not sure where that is all supposed to go, but I know it AIN'T staying on my leg. sheesh.
I expect to be back at work on Monday (not very mobile), because I heal fast, and I get bored easily. Netflix for streaming sucks, and even all the episodes of Star Trek- Next generation can't keep me occupied forever.
Dr. Dan SAID I could start the interferon 3-4 weeks after surgery as long as I am healed so I don't get an infection. OK then. bring it.
One of you peeps mentioned that cancer is kind of depressing, and I should talk about something more uplifting. This is totally true. What else do I talk about? CATS!!!
This year at the Feline Rescue Speghetti Dinner Fundraiser (4/18/2015 put it on your calendars NOW). Boris the Incorrigible will be taking the paw of Triss the Dauntless Kitten in holy Catrimony! OMG what could be better then a Cat wedding! For those of you who are out of the loop, Triss was our foster kitten. We were planning to have her adopted (by other people, ideally) but she fell in love with Boris. Boris is a Feline Rescue Spokeskitty, and Therapy cat in training. He is very handsome, and a good influence. Anyway, at Feline Rescue we do not separate bonded pairs of cats. We ended up adopting Triss because she is my Cat's Girlfriend, and we felt horrible separating them. So here is their engagement pic:
How's THAT for uplifting? I hope I lose enough weight so I can find a really hot "mother of the bride" dress...
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Leaf Cancer for Dummies (that's me dummy, not you), and FAQ
Whoa. SH*& just got real. I met my Oncologist yesterday, Dr. Dan Schneider. First question on your list (I know, priorities):
Q: Is your cancer doctor a hottie?
A: YES. this is very important. Since Dr. Dan and I are going to be spending a lot of time together this is critical for optimal cancer recovery. Dr. Dan is a punk (I am making assumptions based on his awesome hairstyle), and rescues cats with bladder issues. He has an outstanding sense of humor, and I immediately trusted him. Plus, he rescues cats. We are going to get along just fine.
Q: Why do you need a cancer doctor if everything is going to be fine?
A: Oh, sweet naive people. No, unfortunately, I have real cancer. I was going with "sort of cancer", or "Cancer lite", but unfortunately the melanoma terrorist brigade (hereafter referred to as MTB) has moved out of my leg to colonize my lymph nodes. Dr. Dan used the phrase "riddled with cancer". AWESOME.
Q: Are you getting radiation?
A: Nope. too late for that now. The MTB has moved operations, and are now infiltrating my lymphatic system.
Q: What about those Lymph nodes?
A: I am waiting to hear back from surgery, and I will be scheduling an appointment to get them taken out of my right leg/groin area. Then I get to wear a super sexy compression stocking for the rest of my life to prevent Lymphodema. Mine will be pirate themed. I am thinking of starting a line of Cancer-wear, with pirates and superhero themes.
Q: That's it, then, right?
A: Um, no. I have to wait until my leg heals, and then I start interferon treatment. It's like Chemo, but I probably get to keep my hair, which will make my sister the hairstylist very happy. (side note- Becky has been working on my hair for 2 years. She now refers to it as "our hair" and was more upset then I was at my diagnosis, not for the risk of death but for the loss of "our hair".)
Q: Interferon?
A: Yes. I was given a lot of helpful literature such as "So you have Cancer", "Cancer and You", and "OMG I have fucking Cancer!" by the American Cancer Society. I have not read any of it. I am sure it is well written and stimulating. Will I still have to get the treatment? Yes. Therefore not reading the information is as helpful as reading it, with the added bonus that I don't get worried about anything I can't control.
As far as I understand it, I will start the treatment as soon as my leg heals, about 4 weeks post surgery. I heal fast, so I will be starting my blitz campaign to make them let me in early. (Watch this blog for the dial in number where YOU can call Helath Partners and ask them to get my treatment started! like telethon, but with more prank phonecalling).
MTB never sleeps and we must exercise TOTAL VIGILENCE!!! (laugh if you get the Harry Potter reference). The interferon will involve me camping out at Health Partners Riverside 2nd floor Cancer Center (free coffee and tea) for 5 days a week, 4-6 weeks. I am told that the treatments will last about 20 minutes each. I will see Dr. Dan on Mondays (yeah!!!) and then get hooked up to deliver MTB killing medicine to infected areas via an IV.
Q" IV? Turns out (according to Nurse Kerri, who is cute as a bug, and should know) that my veins SUCK. This is disappointing for 2 reasons, I wasted my life by not doing drugs when I was younger, and I will have an attractive "central line" attached to me to hook the drugs into (interferon, not heroin).
Q: What should we expect Kelley to be like on interferon?
A: Bwaa haa haa haa (insert evil laugh here). The effects are cumulative, and a lot like Chemo. I will be tired, achy, and experience flu-like symptoms. I should be OK for the first 2-3 weeks, but expect my ass to be kicked the last week or so, and then a few weeks afterwards. I will work as long as I can, and then not work (as long as I can).
Q: Mood Swings?
A: What the Fuck!?! Bite me! Go to hell! Oh, like real mood swings? Yeah maybe. So here is a super fun fact about Interferon. They do not like to give it to people with depression because it causes them to want to kill themselves. Seriously. This is for reals. I have serious, persistant depression, but have had it since I was 14. It's nothing new. Dr. Dan made me talk him into letting me have the Interferon, and I had to PROMISE not to kill myself. So I might be even MORE cheerless then my usual self, and it may be hard to get me to poke my head out of the door, or answer e-mails. Eryc will be available for updates, or to arrange play dates when he can no longer stand my cranky, whiny ass. But I will NOT kill myself because I promised Dr. Dan so he'd let me have interferon.
Q: How long until you are better?
A: Sigh. After the 4-6 week course of daily interferon, I get to inject myself three times a week for a whole YEAR. The thing about MTB is that they are going to keep coming. If I can keep them on the defense for over a year, I have a great chance of recovery. The interferon will most likely not kill me. I have a whole list of side effects to look forward to, but I am not reading them, because then I will get them all, or at least psychosomatically get them all.
Q: Any good news?
A: Well, yes! I got to complete my annual health assessment during open enrollment, and agreed to have a health coach call me:
"How can we start you on an exercise plan?"
"Go to Hell, I have Cancer!"
That WILL be both fun, and entertaining.
I also got to get Botox shots in my head (persistant migraine), but my forehead will be smooth and wrinkle-free!
They do not want me to lose weight, so my rubenesque figure will be maintained in the next few weeks by eating whatever I want, whenever I want it. Yeah!
Q: How are you doing, really? :( sad faces
A: Honestly? I spent one day curled up in my bed in the fetal position, but I am over it now. Self pity is both useless and boring. Right now I am feeling OK, and we will just go 1 day at a time. More soon!
Q: Is your cancer doctor a hottie?
A: YES. this is very important. Since Dr. Dan and I are going to be spending a lot of time together this is critical for optimal cancer recovery. Dr. Dan is a punk (I am making assumptions based on his awesome hairstyle), and rescues cats with bladder issues. He has an outstanding sense of humor, and I immediately trusted him. Plus, he rescues cats. We are going to get along just fine.
Q: Why do you need a cancer doctor if everything is going to be fine?
A: Oh, sweet naive people. No, unfortunately, I have real cancer. I was going with "sort of cancer", or "Cancer lite", but unfortunately the melanoma terrorist brigade (hereafter referred to as MTB) has moved out of my leg to colonize my lymph nodes. Dr. Dan used the phrase "riddled with cancer". AWESOME.
Q: Are you getting radiation?
A: Nope. too late for that now. The MTB has moved operations, and are now infiltrating my lymphatic system.
Q: What about those Lymph nodes?
A: I am waiting to hear back from surgery, and I will be scheduling an appointment to get them taken out of my right leg/groin area. Then I get to wear a super sexy compression stocking for the rest of my life to prevent Lymphodema. Mine will be pirate themed. I am thinking of starting a line of Cancer-wear, with pirates and superhero themes.
Q: That's it, then, right?
A: Um, no. I have to wait until my leg heals, and then I start interferon treatment. It's like Chemo, but I probably get to keep my hair, which will make my sister the hairstylist very happy. (side note- Becky has been working on my hair for 2 years. She now refers to it as "our hair" and was more upset then I was at my diagnosis, not for the risk of death but for the loss of "our hair".)
Q: Interferon?
A: Yes. I was given a lot of helpful literature such as "So you have Cancer", "Cancer and You", and "OMG I have fucking Cancer!" by the American Cancer Society. I have not read any of it. I am sure it is well written and stimulating. Will I still have to get the treatment? Yes. Therefore not reading the information is as helpful as reading it, with the added bonus that I don't get worried about anything I can't control.
As far as I understand it, I will start the treatment as soon as my leg heals, about 4 weeks post surgery. I heal fast, so I will be starting my blitz campaign to make them let me in early. (Watch this blog for the dial in number where YOU can call Helath Partners and ask them to get my treatment started! like telethon, but with more prank phonecalling).
MTB never sleeps and we must exercise TOTAL VIGILENCE!!! (laugh if you get the Harry Potter reference). The interferon will involve me camping out at Health Partners Riverside 2nd floor Cancer Center (free coffee and tea) for 5 days a week, 4-6 weeks. I am told that the treatments will last about 20 minutes each. I will see Dr. Dan on Mondays (yeah!!!) and then get hooked up to deliver MTB killing medicine to infected areas via an IV.
Q" IV? Turns out (according to Nurse Kerri, who is cute as a bug, and should know) that my veins SUCK. This is disappointing for 2 reasons, I wasted my life by not doing drugs when I was younger, and I will have an attractive "central line" attached to me to hook the drugs into (interferon, not heroin).
Q: What should we expect Kelley to be like on interferon?
A: Bwaa haa haa haa (insert evil laugh here). The effects are cumulative, and a lot like Chemo. I will be tired, achy, and experience flu-like symptoms. I should be OK for the first 2-3 weeks, but expect my ass to be kicked the last week or so, and then a few weeks afterwards. I will work as long as I can, and then not work (as long as I can).
Q: Mood Swings?
A: What the Fuck!?! Bite me! Go to hell! Oh, like real mood swings? Yeah maybe. So here is a super fun fact about Interferon. They do not like to give it to people with depression because it causes them to want to kill themselves. Seriously. This is for reals. I have serious, persistant depression, but have had it since I was 14. It's nothing new. Dr. Dan made me talk him into letting me have the Interferon, and I had to PROMISE not to kill myself. So I might be even MORE cheerless then my usual self, and it may be hard to get me to poke my head out of the door, or answer e-mails. Eryc will be available for updates, or to arrange play dates when he can no longer stand my cranky, whiny ass. But I will NOT kill myself because I promised Dr. Dan so he'd let me have interferon.
Q: How long until you are better?
A: Sigh. After the 4-6 week course of daily interferon, I get to inject myself three times a week for a whole YEAR. The thing about MTB is that they are going to keep coming. If I can keep them on the defense for over a year, I have a great chance of recovery. The interferon will most likely not kill me. I have a whole list of side effects to look forward to, but I am not reading them, because then I will get them all, or at least psychosomatically get them all.
Q: Any good news?
A: Well, yes! I got to complete my annual health assessment during open enrollment, and agreed to have a health coach call me:
"How can we start you on an exercise plan?"
"Go to Hell, I have Cancer!"
That WILL be both fun, and entertaining.
I also got to get Botox shots in my head (persistant migraine), but my forehead will be smooth and wrinkle-free!
They do not want me to lose weight, so my rubenesque figure will be maintained in the next few weeks by eating whatever I want, whenever I want it. Yeah!
Q: How are you doing, really? :( sad faces
A: Honestly? I spent one day curled up in my bed in the fetal position, but I am over it now. Self pity is both useless and boring. Right now I am feeling OK, and we will just go 1 day at a time. More soon!
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Ear worms and other hazards of Inspiration
People who know me KNOW that I am not religious (no I don't mind if you pray for me), and when provoked into social nicety, I will string together vague words such as "peaceful inspiration to you and your loved ones at this (insert event here) time". I get completely baffled by what I should write inside cards. I know what other people write (and I steal their ideas), but honesty suits me better. Besides, my tendencies towards sarcasm make me an easy target for people wanting to point out someone insincere. Thus you will see cards from me with the following poetry:
"sorry your dog died", or my favorite "being sick really sucks".
People are sending ME cards, which is certainly appropriate, and I really appreciate, but HOW DO THEY FIGURE OUT WHAT TO SAY? This is educational to say the least. I have learned 2 important things:
1) people are really nice, basically
2) human beings need to DO something when faced with "friend has cancer". wow, some of you are really good at this! I actually FEEL better.
I feel horrible telling people because I know I am going to inflict pain on friends and acquaintances (but not strangers because it is really satisfying to tell the snotty barrista who couldn't bother to ask if you want whipped cream "Can you put some whip on that? I have cancer!"). Of course it isn't a surprise to ME anymore, I have had weeks to deal. My internal dialogue on what to disclose to people:
"So don't tell people." This is an attractive choice, and I don't really run around and tell eveyone I have cancer, however, then things get awkward when subjects like the future come up. "yeah, sorry, I am not planning anything in December, as I will be doing chemo then- you know chemo! hahaha hmmmmmm" Since I have known for a long time, and interact with so many people, it gets weird as to who knows and who doesn't.
"You are not that interesting" This is me reminding myself that not everyone needs, wants, or cares to know about my personal problems...followed immediately by "HELL yeah you can tell people you have cancer! You are freaking hilarious!" - this last bit seems to coincide with morning coffee, and/or burst of sugar. Why I think my funniness is related to telling people about cancer I haven't connected yet.
"Tell them it's sort-of cancer!" This is when I down-play it by saying yeah, it's cancer, but it's not you know, CANCER CANCER. Then I get drawn into conversations about what kind of cancer it really is, how did I find it, is my doctor cute, and my favorite "My cousin's sister's uncle's friend ate nothing but Kale for six weeks and her cancer disappeared!"Um, yeah. Cause Kale totally SUCKS. This option clearly has risks.
After going through all the options (in my head, usually while staring blankly at the person) I generally opt for, "yeah, I'm good, got a little cancer going on." This allows my conversant to look at me closely to make sure I am not joking, cause it's not funny to tell people you have cancer if you don't really (DUH). And then we can have a conversation that doesn't end in me holding them awkwardly (because if you KNOW me you know I am not a hugger) and giving out the names of a good support group for them.
Meanwhile, since I do have CANCER CANCER, I am reappropriating the word "inspiration". This wonderful word seems to have migrated to a specific part of the religious public, and is often found with other words I will get around to reclaiming such as "family" and "values". Inspiration, from the Latin meaning things you think are cool and jazz you up, is a great way to imagine my body fighting off the tiny terrorist squad of melanomas. Squamous little fuckers. some things that inspire me:
Cats. Well duh.
Books. I have the attention span of a gnat, but I am currently reading the latest books in the #1 Ladies Detective series, alternating with Stephanie Plum the bounty hunter. Those ladies kick some serious ass.
Food. Thanks for all the treats, but pace yourselves people. I LOVE you, but you can't all feed me, and quite frankly I am wearing out the fat pants even as we speak.
Music. My internal soundtrack today features the song stylings of Pat Benatar singing "invincible".
Isn't this inspiring? "We can't afford to be innocent. Stand up and Face the enemy. Its a do or die situation, we will be INVINCIBLE!" Wow, that sounded a lot more inspiring when it first came out- hahahahaha now it's stuck in your head, too! It's like musical cancer!
"sorry your dog died", or my favorite "being sick really sucks".
People are sending ME cards, which is certainly appropriate, and I really appreciate, but HOW DO THEY FIGURE OUT WHAT TO SAY? This is educational to say the least. I have learned 2 important things:
1) people are really nice, basically
2) human beings need to DO something when faced with "friend has cancer". wow, some of you are really good at this! I actually FEEL better.
I feel horrible telling people because I know I am going to inflict pain on friends and acquaintances (but not strangers because it is really satisfying to tell the snotty barrista who couldn't bother to ask if you want whipped cream "Can you put some whip on that? I have cancer!"). Of course it isn't a surprise to ME anymore, I have had weeks to deal. My internal dialogue on what to disclose to people:
"So don't tell people." This is an attractive choice, and I don't really run around and tell eveyone I have cancer, however, then things get awkward when subjects like the future come up. "yeah, sorry, I am not planning anything in December, as I will be doing chemo then- you know chemo! hahaha hmmmmmm" Since I have known for a long time, and interact with so many people, it gets weird as to who knows and who doesn't.
"You are not that interesting" This is me reminding myself that not everyone needs, wants, or cares to know about my personal problems...followed immediately by "HELL yeah you can tell people you have cancer! You are freaking hilarious!" - this last bit seems to coincide with morning coffee, and/or burst of sugar. Why I think my funniness is related to telling people about cancer I haven't connected yet.
"Tell them it's sort-of cancer!" This is when I down-play it by saying yeah, it's cancer, but it's not you know, CANCER CANCER. Then I get drawn into conversations about what kind of cancer it really is, how did I find it, is my doctor cute, and my favorite "My cousin's sister's uncle's friend ate nothing but Kale for six weeks and her cancer disappeared!"Um, yeah. Cause Kale totally SUCKS. This option clearly has risks.
After going through all the options (in my head, usually while staring blankly at the person) I generally opt for, "yeah, I'm good, got a little cancer going on." This allows my conversant to look at me closely to make sure I am not joking, cause it's not funny to tell people you have cancer if you don't really (DUH). And then we can have a conversation that doesn't end in me holding them awkwardly (because if you KNOW me you know I am not a hugger) and giving out the names of a good support group for them.
Meanwhile, since I do have CANCER CANCER, I am reappropriating the word "inspiration". This wonderful word seems to have migrated to a specific part of the religious public, and is often found with other words I will get around to reclaiming such as "family" and "values". Inspiration, from the Latin meaning things you think are cool and jazz you up, is a great way to imagine my body fighting off the tiny terrorist squad of melanomas. Squamous little fuckers. some things that inspire me:
Cats. Well duh.
Books. I have the attention span of a gnat, but I am currently reading the latest books in the #1 Ladies Detective series, alternating with Stephanie Plum the bounty hunter. Those ladies kick some serious ass.
Food. Thanks for all the treats, but pace yourselves people. I LOVE you, but you can't all feed me, and quite frankly I am wearing out the fat pants even as we speak.
Music. My internal soundtrack today features the song stylings of Pat Benatar singing "invincible".
Isn't this inspiring? "We can't afford to be innocent. Stand up and Face the enemy. Its a do or die situation, we will be INVINCIBLE!" Wow, that sounded a lot more inspiring when it first came out- hahahahaha now it's stuck in your head, too! It's like musical cancer!
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
But What about pathology?
Posts getting long- sorry. I am not usually that chatty.. oh wait, yes I am. hahahha
But, yes- what information did the "sentinal node" have to share with us?
Apparently each surgeon thought I was going to get the news from the other, but after almost a whole week of being at home, and leaving a message for each of them I finally heard from surgeon number 1: Cancer has spread. The little Bastards are in my Lymph Nodes! grrrrrrrrr.
I also had an infected wisdom tooth- totally unrelated to anything else
And just because I am such an over-achiever, I also found out why my blood pressure is so high! I have a mass on my adrenal gland, causing my Noroprinephrine levels to be too high. Basically, yes a tumor. I have 2 types of cancer, completely unrelated to each other.
I am NOT a happy camper, but life still moves on. I feel good. things ARE good. more soon.
But, yes- what information did the "sentinal node" have to share with us?
Apparently each surgeon thought I was going to get the news from the other, but after almost a whole week of being at home, and leaving a message for each of them I finally heard from surgeon number 1: Cancer has spread. The little Bastards are in my Lymph Nodes! grrrrrrrrr.
I also had an infected wisdom tooth- totally unrelated to anything else
I am NOT a happy camper, but life still moves on. I feel good. things ARE good. more soon.
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