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:

How's THAT for uplifting? I hope I lose enough weight so I can find a really hot "mother of the bride" dress...

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!

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!

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.



Welcome to Cancerland! your ticket will soon be punched...

For the last several weeks I have been residing in an oft visited no-woman's land that I describe as Schroedinger's cancer. I found the mole, I watched it change size, color, shape, do tricks, I feel like I should get some kind of prize damnit. But the prize is an indeterminate waiting period during which "yes, you have cancer", and "no you might not anymore" makes you a little crazy.

It's a short journey to crazy from where I live, anyway.

After several months of pointing out "my funky mole" to everyone, including lucky random strangers, I felt a sense of urgency to get it addressed. Death Partners couldn't get me in to see a dermatologist- even with a history of funky moles that turned colors and got removed by previous random dermatologists. I even got my awesome Nurse Practioner to send a strongly worded referral, but they still couldn't get me in (in less then 9 months). After the urgent whispering of 20 generations of German peasant ancestors in my ears became too loud to ignore, I made an appointment out of death partners at another dermatology practice. Wow, they got me an appointment in a week. I walked in, said "take it off", and so they did. Hmmmmmm Melanoma. Who knew? Me.

Once your dermatologist calls you with a pathology report, you get to make awesome new medical friends. I had TWO surgeons, one to do the lymph node biopsy in my leg, and one to fix the hole left by the orange sized scoop of flesh they would take out where the mole used to be. First I had to start at Nuclear medicine, where they injected the area around the removed mole with nuclear waste (or dye). those injections are NOT fun, but the technician Brandon was super cute so I pretended I was tougher then I was. THEN they run you through a machine to determine where the nearest Lymph node to the site is, it lights up on the screen, and they take a picture of it.

I got to go upstairs, check in at surgery, sign a bunch of stuff, meet both my surgeons, anesthia-man, and had a nurse blow a vein in the back of my hand. Her supervisor came and did it on the other hand. Does anyone LIKE IV's? no, I don't think they do.

Dr. Suwan is a very cheerful surgeon that everyone likes. His job was to take out the "sentinal node" in my leg, that was the lymph node that "lit up", and also to scoop out the area around my my late unlamented mole. Dr. Mann is a cheeky little guy who is a plastic surgeon- his job was to fix my leg after they scooped it out. Dr. Suwan was pretty sraightforward, Dr. Mann wanted to get into all the details about the repair, and then said we really wouldn't know until it was done.

I am hard to anesthitize, but they figured it out. I woke up really hyper in the recovery room, and immediately started chatting with the poor guy next to me about how therapeutic cats are. My leg was wrapped up really tight (my shin), and my thigh had a big superglue line covering the incision where my node was removed, it's about 3-4 inches long. I had Ox, my ugly doll with me for luck, and they had stuck a bonnet on him and put him back in my arms when i woke up:

Ox the Ugly doll after surgery

 

 

The big thing on my leg was a cincher- he sewed the edges of the scoop and pulled it thorugh this cincher thing. On Monday I would have to go back in, and have the wound closed. The plus side was that i didn't have to have a skin graft, YEAH!!!

 

So Saturday my foster kitty Lucinda died. it was unexpected, and sad, she was only 5, and really sweet. you'd think vicodin would help with that, but it desn't really. she was very special- a Sphynx. they are hairless, like cat gargoyles, but very smart and lovable. I miss her so much.

 

 

Monday I got to go back and get the wound sewed up. It looks like a shark bite. he had to take out all the skin and fat down to the muscle. it doesn't really hurt. eryc asked the doctor to take the wrap off before surgery so we could see the open wound and the cincher, it was really gross- no pictures of that (well Eryc took one, but I am NOT showing it to YOU. Here is the shark bite: