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!
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
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.
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:
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:
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