Nodes Shmodes

I had my last full scan in December and on the 17th, got the results.

Although everything in my pelvic region looks good, there are a few swollen lymph nodes in my chest. The doctor immediately asked me if I'd had Bronchitis or anything like that and I said that I did have a wicked chest cold. In fact, it was the first time I took Mucinex because it was gnarly... and I could feel the gunk in my chest. Mucinex loosened it and I hawked lung cookies for a week. The cold went to my throat and my ears itched.. then settled in my nose. My eyes watered constantly.
I rarely get a cold like this. Maybe once a year so we are going to go ahead and put this under "lymph nodes doing their job".
But, to be on the safe side. Dr. Dummypants set me up for another scan in 6 weeks. Chest only (which means on barium sulfate crap YAY!).

At first I was gutted, but I thought right away that this was nothing. I knew it really. When I was diagnosed last year, I knew something was wrong.

But, if it is cancer again, I'll get chemo or radiation or whatever. I'm not going to give up or let this thing take over. If all it's doing is irritating some lymph nodes, it's early and damage control is imminent.

It's been a year since I was diagnosed. A year since Christmas for my hysterectomy and it feels like yesterday. A YEAR!
Mortality really frays your brain. I was able to compartmentalize but it's a kind of mental torture, really.

I feel healthy and good. I have residuals with pains in my fingers and toes but Dr. Dummypants says that's nerve endings re-growing. Long process.

Finally claimed bankruptcy and guess what? The state sent me a letter to say "hey, you're approved.. we'll pay everything, no copay". WELL THANK YOU VERY MUCH STATE OF MICHIGAN BUT YOU'RE TOO LATE!

Which reminds me... I have to make some calls to let people know if they haven't wiped my slate clean they can bill the state. :D BILL 'EM... DOOOO EEEET!

In summary; Cancer sucks. Yes, I got a cool new hair cut but that's about it. My credit is ruined, nearly lost my house and suffered through most of 2010.

(cover your ears)

TWO THOUSAND TEN YOU SUCKED ASS!

*curtsy*

OHAI BLAWG!

If I were very certain my cancer was gone, I'd write more in this blog and perhaps turn it into something different.

BUUTTTT.. cancer is a crafty little monster.

I have another scan coming up and I'm terrified. TERRIFIED.

Never let myself be too happy or too relaxed knowing those nasty little cells might be multiplying. On one level, I think this was just a fluke and it's in my life history now... gone in the past and growing moldy.

Of course there is a crazed compartment in my brain just waiting for the ax to fall. Fear fear fear fear fear. Our tiny little Earthly fear brains.

However, I am now mortality-scarred. I've been flayed open and presented with it and healed. Now I have built some resistance and can handle it better if cancer does come 'round to visit again. When I was nearing the end of radiation, I swore that if I had to do it all over again I'd rather die. It was that horrible to me. But now, I can see myself gearing up for another battle if necessary.

I tend to compartmentalize. I don't know if it's a good or bad thing. So this blog is locked in a compartment and I don't bring it out until it's needed.

I wish I could record the rain sound right now. The constant of it. I've not lost the habit of taking mental pictures of things I love. I mean, I always have really. But now I take them knowing I might want to access them as I lay on my death bed.

death bed.

The thought of dying over a long period of time makes me want to slash the curtains with a knife. I can't stand that thought. I really can't. The slow decay. Fading.

I want to go out with a flame. I want electricity shooting from my fingertips. I want to explode into a million atoms like Powder in the film.

I don't want to leave this Earth crumpled and withered. Ravaged and eviscerated. That's such a crock of shit.

Dr. Dummypants Strikes Again!

To coin an often used phrase from Jill:
Good news or bad news?

Except with Jill it's pretty much bad news both ways.
Also, she'll say "I have a suuurrpriiiseee for youuuuuu" and I'll be very excited and antsy and say "what is it what is it? tell me tell me!"

"I got new light bulbs"

....

*crickets*

Seriously.. work on that routine!

Good news:
We got the results back on my August 21st CT scan and all clear! Of course I've only just finished with radiation so I'd be surprised to see anything anyway but I was still a bit panicky the night before.
I hadn't thought about it much over vacation (which was delicious save for my sun rash). The night before our appointment with Dr. VanderWoude, I got totally freaked out and clammed up (as I do when I'm scared).
We get to the appointment and I'm totally freaking out. They always make you wait at LEAST an hour..
Jill was reading to me and we were laughing but then I was like "OK STOP". I just couldn't take the over stimulation. I needed quiet.
Dr. VanderWoude comes in and says her hello's. Usually after a scan she comes in and says right away what the results were. This time, nothing. I started to panic internally. Bells, whistles, alarms... flush of fear.
She says "so when did we schedule your scan?".
I said "um.. I had one on the 21st"...
"OHHHH, right.. I think I did see the results here..."
She scrolls down on the computer in front of her and I see the scan of the document and she says "lets scroll down to the meat of it"

The meat of it? Odd.

Then she says "Yup, everything looks good!".

UGHHHHH! What is she doing? She's that busy? She can't scan a chart prior to breezing into the room? This is when I'm happy about claiming bankruptcy. You'd think an oncologist would be a bit more apt with bedside manner. Not Dr. Dummypants.
Educated? yes.
Top in her field? yes.
Scatterbrained? YES.

I didn't care, though. Relief burst from me like a flock of swallows. I was so joyous. Happy to be alive. Smug to walk down the hallway looking at the other cancer patients thinking "not me". My inner voice is such a bitch sometimes.
My inner inner voice said "not me" right NOW but maybe "me" later... watch it, missy.

Never allow yourself to be TOO happy. What is that? I've tried since childhood not to let repression seep into me, but alas.

And then there's Mooki. Our new kitten.
I gave myself this gift after radiation. I decided with Jill and Lisa in the car that I wanted a new kitten. My dad's voice always says to me "you can't have that! too much... can't have that many.. can't handle it.. bad bad bad no no no".

Fuck it.

Jill's barista... and here I have to pause because do Starbucks employee's really consider themselves baristas? Anyway, she asked Jill if we knew of anyone who'd want a kitten. Jill said "hmm.. maybe!".
We went to meet him and I was skeptical. He bounded across the yard, tail in the air and came right to me. I picked him up and like a bad made-for-tv movie.. the camera spun around us as we gazed into each others eyes and fell deeply in love.

He's AMAZING. And I'm not just saying that. He's the lap cat I've dreamed of. He's super funny and super cute. He's a Snowshoe Cat. Never heard of them but they're a Siamese offshoot. He sleeps on me at night and if I get up to go to the bathroom, he follows me bleary eyed and we walk back to bed together and he gets back on me.

*cry*

I'm deeply smitten with this kitten.

Bad news?
I'm another cat closer to Crazy Old Cat Lady.

GREAT NEWS!

My skin is peeling like bad sunburn. Yes, and it's awesome. When it peels off there's fresh raw skin and it hurts. WOOOOO!

Also, I pinched a nerve in my lower back and it radiates down my leg. The doctor said it happens a lot because of radiating that pelvic region and laying on the metal table every day for weeks. WOOOO x 2!!!

Along with the continued bathroom issues and pain while I urinate, radiation has been such a joy. Every day I open my eyes and my first thought is "IT'S CHRISTMAS!!". I'm only slightly disappointed that it's another fun day of radiation.

Jill talks to everyone.

Lines at grocery stores (or anywhere for that matter). People in waiting rooms.. anyone who will lend an ear to her siren of a gob. I avoid eye contact and smile when eyes DO meet. I avoid chit-chat because I hate it. Small talk is the bane of my existence. I told Jill every time I walk into the radiation room the tech will say 1 of 3 things:

So, is it hot out there?

How was your weekend?
Got anything planned for the weekend?

I guess they dropped "How are you feeling" altogether because DUH I HAVE CANCER ASSHOLE!

"So, how are you feeling today?"

4 out of 5 patients would say "Well, I'm peeing blood and I don't have long to live". So yeah, dumb question.

Anyway, yesterday a guy sat down in front of Jill and she, of course, started up conversation and the man immediately burst into tears when she asked how he was doing. His wife has cancer and it's not her first rodeo. That's bad news. 2nd / 3rd time means it's no joke.

See Jill? This is what you get when you talk to strangers at cancer pavilions. When she meets me to see the doctor (every Wednesday we see the doctor) she's crying. She tells me what happened and for some reason I'm very irritated.

No reason why I told you this story. I guess the lesson is: Don't talk to strangers or you might cry.

I have 2 more appointments. My last day is Friday and I'm terribly happy. I just can't imagine this happening again because I won't make it. I will refuse treatment because I HATE IT SO MUCH IT'S NOT FUNNY!

I'm a horrible patient. I can't get out of there fast enough. I don't want to be looked upon as ill or needful.. or something.

Jill continues to be amazing and helpful and kind throughout my cantankerous moods and hissy fits.

Bills keep pouring in and I keep ignoring them. PLEASE CALL US ABOUT YOUR BILL! Why? To say "I'm waiting to claim bankruptcy".

My roof needs serious repair. It went from a $200.00 drywall repair to "It'll probably be around $5,000".

I hate them. I'm having my nephew Kristopher take care of it. He's awesome and I won't have to worry that it's done wrong. I'd rather pay him than some twitchy dork who can't maintain eye contact.

UGHHHHH
I told you it'd be a bitchfest. I feel like a popped zit though. All the icky is gone. :D

TA-DAAAAA!

Brachytherapy

Hmmm..

Not on my list of favorite things to do.

I'm going to go ahead and be graphic for the sake of anyone who might want to know about this experience. So if you have a weak stomach or don't want to talk about the naughty bits... go count ceiling tiles or something.

Brachytherapy is basically an internal form of high dose radiation. Some radiation is implanted and is known as "seeding". These implanted seeds are radioactive and sort of like time-released pellets. Mostly they use that for prostate/breast cancer. For me, it's a short term gig.

They use a Gooch Gun or a Cooter Shooter (as we so immaturely dubbed the instrument). It's a cylinder that is inserted in the vagina and it has a handle so it looks exactly like a gun, really.

First they "map". With the gooch gun firmly in place they take x-rays and make sure the placement is correct.

Then they hook you up to a radioactive core on wheels. Yes. You heard me right. Seems sort of basement-rigged but it's all very high-tech. The radioactive core is inside this cylinder and gets connected to the cooter shooter via flexible cable. At this point everyone runs from the room and has to sit behind thick glass so as to not be radiated every day and make flipper babies. Then a very thin wire runs from the radioactive core through the flex tube and inside me. It's automated, so that sensation is very strange. Nothing hurts at all. Very painless. The rod goes into the gooch gun and stops in several spots (where my radiation oncologist has pre-determined) and gives dosages at those spots. This took 6 minutes the first time and 6 1/2 minutes the second time. My last time will be Tuesday and that will take 7 minutes.

It's all very surreal. While I'm waiting I usually recite the names of the presidents for some reason. I learned this in 4th grade and it calms me somehow.

I have 28 regular external beam radiation appointments and 3 of those high dose appointments.

Did I mention how incredibly annoying it is to wake up every day and get ready to go get blasted with radiation?

I wonder if I've talked about the normal radiation room. I may have...

It's much like a room on Mission Impossible. A high arched ceiling with beautiful dark cherry wood panels and a lone machine in the middle of a gigantic room. It has panels on each side of the room too that look like the wall but they are cupboards that house our leg molds. Oh yeah, they put this stuff inside a garbage bag and you put your legs in it and it puffs up and gets really hot and VOILA! LEG MOLD! That way your legs are always in the same position for treatment.

They also gave me 3 tattoo dots. One on each hip and one on mah belleh.

This room also has sort of dim recessed lighting. There is a chair and table with a lamp (for what I have no idea since no one is allowed in but you). It's both beautiful and creepy.

Friday, August 13th is my last day of treatment and then.. BLISSFUL EXISTENCE. I will have to see my doctor still and get series CT scans but, fingers crossed, that remains good news for a year and then NO MORE DOCTORS.

So the side effects that I've experienced the most from radiation are diarrhea, fatigue and frequent urination. I know, it's not the most enjoyable subject but for someone who might be wondering.. these things are good to know. They tell you to eat bananas and apple sauce but nothing really helps. When I eat nothing for breakfast and lunch to try and avoid it... no... it happens anyway.

Drink lots of water and SUFFER! No one said it'd be a picnic.

Jill has gone with me to every appointment and I can't tell you how appreciative I am of that. Makes it seem faster and lighter.

I don't have anything creative to say about this. No clever musings. It sucks. The end.

"I don't know about "Through the Wormhole", sounds interesting though. I wish I could be plugged into that level more, those glimpses into how vast existence actually is, and how small that makes us. "

Lauren commented that from my last post.

It made me think immediately of my darkest moments when I was very sure I wasn't long for this Earth. We are insignificant in the grand scheme. Of course, this scheme.. our own existence rattles with fear at the huge concept of mortality.

When I think of space, time and the universe it makes me feel better about dying. I am a blip on a blip on a grain of sand on a zillion Earths beaches.

My brain can't comprehend space as it cannot comprehend no longer existing.

But we all stop existing. More of us pop up with different faces and the cycle is never ending.

I also like to watch water, especially rivers. I love that they will keep moving for ages. Eventually they'll carve a new path for themselves but water will always move and bend and remain constant.

It gives me peace.

Thinking of atoms and the elements that create our bodies, our world... just floating in space ready to create another world like our own when the conditions are right.. gives me peace.

The things that make me sad (and I'm sure I've mentioned this) is leaving my world behind. My personal Earth experience.

I can close my eyes and think of the first time I was awed by chlorophyll. Laying in our backyard and looking up through the leaves and seeing a symphony of greens in the canopy filled me with warmth. The rustling of the leaves, the smell of the air.. the sounds of the Earth. My skin, so happy to feel the breeze move across its surface. Tickling the tiny hairs on my arms and face... telling me its story.

Finding rocks and loving them. Awed at their striations, glittering mica or smoothed by water. Collecting sticks and leaves and broken egg shells. I have always been madly in love with the Earth. MADLY. When I go outside, when I sit quietly and let go of myself, that is my prayer.

To leave that love is hard to accept.

So tender and vulnerable, floating out there in space. A sudden pulse of radioactivity from the sun, an exploding star near to us.. a giant asteroid. Even my precious ball of iron will one day expire.

So what's the big deal?

Ah bin RADEATED!!11/11122

Seriously, this has to stop.

I don't know if I can take 20 more treatments. Well.. 23 with the High Dose Radiation Brachy Therapy things.

I'm sooo tired. Like after you have too much sun. That kind of tired. Your eyelids are like "hey, I know! LET'S SLEEP!". All the time. Then, when I try to sleep my mind races and I can't.

My hair is attempting to grow back. This crazy looking duck fuzz. I hope I don't grow Albert Einstein hair. :(

My eyebrows are itching so I think they're attempting to grow back. We'll see. I'm pretty sure I"ll remain bald for a long time. When I was little, I didn't get hair until I was 2! It came in blonde and curly. My duck fuzz looks white. BABY JESUS, PLEASE DON'T GIVE ME WHITE HAIR! I swear I will go into an ugly cry right this second. Ugliest cry ever, actually. A face only a mother could love.

Speaking of mothers...

We went to visit my mom a week ago. It was shocking, devastating, fascinating and very very sad. She didn't even ask about my head wrap, which was good. She'd forget anyway if I explained it all.

She told us all about her new boyfriend. How he has 2 daughters and sometimes she watches them but they're old enough to put themselves to bed. Also, her new boyfriend read a book about how NOT to get fresh with her. Apparently she read it first. This boyfriend also dances a lot and does moves on the floor...

He also carries games and tricks with him in various pockets. I guess my mom is dating Homer Simpson.

All this is fantasy. Jill and I listened to every word and asked her questions. She seemed to always have the answer, which was a bit odd. I told Jill it was like she was dreaming out loud. You know when you're dreaming but it's kind of like you're starring in a movie? That's how it sounded.

She looked beautiful though. I didn't even have to do her nails, some nurse had done them. They were pink and pretty and my sister had just done her hair. She had a lovely outfit on too. My sweet mom. She's blissfully free of complicated thoughts. Sometimes I'd love to be in that head space.

I had a dream about her last night. She was in a house like my cousins growing up. She fell out the window and I freaked out. She had busted all of the panes out and they were wide open.

I also dreamed I had to get a small cat out of a house... perhaps to the vet? I was putting him in Jessica's car except her car was rusted and beaten and looked like the biggest piece of crap ever on 4 wheels.

I got outside and I could smell gasoline. Suddenly it was a small flat bed truck and a keg like thing was on it filled with gas and leaking at the top/nozzle.

My brother Bob (Jessica's dad) jumped up and started unscrewing the cap and pressure started hissing out and gas.. and the two combined ignited his hand. I screamed for him to step away and he did.. he jumped down off the bed and the keg catapulted into the air. I knew that when it landed it would explode so I waited for it.

I laid down and pulled him down with me and a beautiful explosion occurred.

I've been watching "Through the Wormhole" with Morgan Freeman. Some of it I have to rewind and watch over for my head to completely wrap around the concepts.

Apparently a replica universe (one of many) exists at the end of the universe. Sort of like a hologram. Bits of information about my face, my hands.. me in general exist in many levels. Perhaps in alternate universes a fraction of an inch away from ours.

A fraction of an inch? Oh and time is always overlapping. The information of a Tyrannosaur is still floating about and could be sitting on my head right now.

Traveling at the speed of light.. time slows down. Tick-tocks get slower.

Universes spiral and dance around a black hole kind of like atoms. Macroverse and Universe.

I've always been fascinated at replications. Our solar system is like an atom. The sun it's nucleus. Veins mimic cracks in the pavement. That's all about the laws of physics and how things fracture... and fractals. FRACTALS OMG!! So beautiful.

And I progress.

Rayyydeeeaaashhhunnnn

I can't muster a big enough UGHHHHHH to encompass my disappointment that I will be having radiation therapy as well.

I started Chemo in February.. and now for FIVE WEEKS I have to have radiation every day. EVERY DAY???? How incredibly horrid is that?

People say "hey, but it doesn't hurt and you don't lose your hair and it's only a quick zap". Yes, a quick zap but it's 1/2 hour out of every single day so time-wise, it's not that much better.

They want me to have it, they didn't deem it necessary. However, it supposedly reduces recurrence and that's what we want. I have to keep telling myself these things.

A HUGE part of me absolutely rails against something like this. Consistent, day to day appointments. My brain reels. Not to mention I'm just so so sooo tired of all of this crap. The poking, the prodding the stupid pregnant techs. Not that I am jealous they're pregnant but WHY are so many of them 25 and popping out? It's all so banal and I writhe just thinking about it.

I guess I was really hoping my last chemo date was the end of all this. Only the appointment prior did my doctor mention radiation. I shot Jill a panicked look.. "radiation?".. it felt lethargic and thick in my mouth. NOOOOOOOOoooooo!!

Not to mention the unmentionable. Brachy Therapy.. that might be administered toward the end of my treatment. It's application of radiation internally. *cough* CAN IT GET ANY WORSE? The humiliation...

I'm very pissed off. There isn't another apt description. I'm pissed off!

Blah blah blah thank GOD for the technology. Blah blah blah, I'm so fortunate to have this at my disposal. Blaaaaaahhhh I am alive and in remission. So effing what? Why did I have to get cancer in the first place? Why me?

The universe is terrible and sweet. Completely random in all it's horror. A blunt force.

The Last Day

Louise Bourgeois

Died May 31st, 2010. Louise was 98 and an incredibly talented artist. Look at that beautiful woman! Takes my breath away.

My last round of chemo was today!

It's been an amazing day.

Before chemo, my heart starts racing. It's not that I'm nervous, I've done it several times but I think my body is getting conditioned and ready for the onslaught of EXTREMELY toxic chemicals. My blood pressure raises, etc.

By the time I'm done, they re-take my BP and it's completely normal.

I can't help the anxiety. I try, believe me.

I also gained weight somehow and that irritated me like.. what's going on? Ate the same but I guess I did only work out a few times.

We sat there for 5 hours watching fun stuff from ninjavideo.net and really just enjoyed ourselves.

The hardest part for me is the first round of Benedryl. It knocks me OUT. Hits me suddenly and I'm sort of dizzy and my eyes want to close and I usually sleep for an hour or so until the feeling passes.

We gave our chemo nurse a gift card for Schuler books (our local book store which we're loyal to) and a thank you card. Of course there isn't a Hallmark card for "hey, thanks for sticking me with needles and putting toxins into my body". No, but she did go out of her way to give us special care and she was really funny and always made us laugh like crazy.

Then, Jamie took us out to dinner. He brought Gordon (his ex who lives in the lower level in his house) and we went to a very lovely restaurant in Rockford on the river called "Red's on the River". We shared a bottle of a delicious Merlot. Jill had a crazy delicious tuna steak with an olive tapenade. We shared a salad of fresh greens with apple vinegrette and candied pears with walnuts and Stilton bleu cheese that absolutely melted in your mouth.. and walnuts! *cry*

I had a butternut squash bisque that hurt my feelings it was so good. Jamie and I had their filet.. aged in house.. STUNNING and tender. And the Merlot with it.. my goodness. I have forgotten what a beautiful buzz Merlot offers. I don't drink at all and by the third sip, I could feel it.

We had wonderful conversation and toasted to my KICKING CANCER in the nuts. We expressed out love for each other and enjoyed every bit about our dinner. It was warm and loving and I thank the universe I've been given so much love and such beauty and such gifts.

The waitress happened to ask if we were celebrating something. I hesitated and everyone looked at me and I just said "yes, actually.. my last chemo appointment was today and things look great!". She said her husband is going through it as well and was visibly shaken, I think.. just a bit.

After dinner she brought out a lovely piece of chocolate cheesecake with a hazelnut whipped topping and a lit candle in the cheesecake. It said "congratulations" in chocolate on the plate. Jill cried immediately and I was too busy thanking her but when she left, I cried too. Just because I was SO FUCKING happy. So happy. So moved. So loved. So lucky.

No more chemo appointments after this! No more aching bones and no more pains in my sternum that make me feel like something is pulling me to the ground.

OH YEAH! that is from my Neulasta shot. Did I say how much those were? I finally saw an entire bill for the hospital (Spectrum) and each shot of Neulasta that I get on the Monday after my chemo is $4800.00.... WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? I said to Jill I've been injected with 6 used cars. *lol* HOLY SHIT. The chemo rounds themselves are $6000.00 and that takes 5 hours. This is one shot .. a minute's worth of injection. 5 grand.

WHAAAAAAAAT?????

I also wondered aloud if it was made of baby juice or something. What could it possibly be made of to cost so much? Maybe they can only make it on the space station. I could see that being very costly.

That's all I have to say about that.

State Workers

You know what they say, don't you? About state workers??

Anyway, I was blessed with an exceptionally dim-witted processor. I can't even call her a processor since she hasn't processed anything.

Here's a nice and incompetent story for you.

I called my case worker last Monday. I hadn't heard a thing from the state. Not a letter of denial, nothing. She greets me and says "I'm so sorry, I've been sooo busy and backed up. Have you gotten your card yet?".

:O

"My card???"

"Yes, your benefits card"..

*pin drop*

HALLELUJAH!! No way. NOOO FREAKIN' WAY! Seriously??

She said it'd be faster to come down and pick it up. I made an appointment for the following Thursday.

I went to the state office. I waited.. and waited. A woman came out and called for "Melissa Oleson". That's not my name, but a dim twinkling of doom awoke in my fevered head. What if she mistook me for this other Melissa?
Nahh...

I'm waiting 40 minutes now for our scheduled meeting. She walks back in and calls my name. She apologizes and says she had me mixed up with another Melissa. See.. she has TWO Melissa's to deal with so, clearly, it's out of her realm of management to have TWO people with the same names in her case load.

Still they haven't determined my case.

Did I work? Yes. *bad*

Do I have kids? No. *more bad tsk tsk sounds*

She'll try but the system just isn't geared for uninsured people without kids.

*claw hands*

Whatever. I left there and cried a bit. No big deal. Mistakes happen. I was just very relieved... for a moment.

I had chemo again on Friday.

I slept ALL DAY today. Got up, showered and left for my noon appointment for my Neulasta shot. Came back and slept until like 4:30. I NEVER sleep like that but, of course, my body wanted it so I gave in.

Something inside me rails against sleep. I think it's my father's voice saying "losers sleep in" type of deal. Can't get anything done if you sleep, right? RIGHT! Loser.

Anyway, prior to my chemo there is always the appointment with the doctor.

Dr. Dummypants is what I like to call her. She casually mentions she wants to see if "they" think radiation would be good as the cherry on the top of my chemo sundae.

Once a day for 5 weeks. Weekends off, of course.

WAHHHHHHHHHH!!

Are you serious? Tell me you're kidding Dummypants. I can't take it anymore.

But hey, she said it's another step in eradication. Ok. Fine. ERADICATION.

My legs pain me so I am very pissy atm. :P

I don't want any more radiation or any kind of treatment. I want to walk out of the Lemmen Holton Cancer Pavilion and never ever walk back in. EVER. I don't want to see doctors or nurses or tubes or needles.

Holy shit. I can't tell you how many times I've been stuck with a needle in the past several months. It doesn't bother me much at all. BUT COME ON!

The stupid infusion machine that beeps when you're done and beeps when the battery is low. Don't sit in the cafe for too long or outside away from a plug because it will beep and make your ears bleed.
Please please just let me be done with this. Let me get back to boring life and my "it'll never happen to me" attitude.

Let me deal with my gigantic mound of bills and roll down that hill and watch it shrink as it fades into the distance. PLEASE???

The Love and the Hate

LALALALA.. I am the State of Michigan and I'm not listening...

Since I have been diagnosed with cancer (and of course before) I've felt very healthy and good. Cancer was a shock since I didn't feel sick in that way.

I've been weathering chemo rather nicely but now that I've been given good news (remission) Chemo has hit me the hardest.

My feet are constantly tingling. It's SOOOO AGGRAVATING! I want to claw at things. I feel generally icky. But I keep telling myself "only two more chemo's" and FREEDOM! Oh and hair. :D

I just want to whine. I'm glad no one really reads this (and they should stop here if they are) because it's a whinefest.

The pain in my legs is lasting much longer too. It scares me a bit. My sugar is all over the place because of these DUMB ASS steroids. My chemo nurse ramped the steroids down but it only seems to have worsened the negatives. I wanted to do so to control the sugar fluctuation. The higher your sugar, the worse the neuropathy.

I just want to prevent long term damage to my nerves from these incredibly toxic chemicals that are killing my cells but saving my life?

Chemo, I love you I hate you. I utter my particular chemotherapy drug names "carboplatin" "taxol" to myself. Makes me feel less prone to their power but it also terrifies me.

My regular doctor, whom I adore, was a bit shocked to learn of the chemo drugs I was being given. I forget his particular wording but I think he referred to them as "the big guns". He said his mom likes to run around saying she "went through chemo" and he would roll his eyes at her and say "Mom, you had hot flashes.. " because her particular chemo was in pill form and very "light".

I love doctor Bob. He is sweet and kind and will leave his hand to linger over yours or on your back. His bedside manner is spectacular.

The last appointment I had with him, he didn't charge me. I went to the car (feeling very weak after my first chemo experience) and Jill went to pay for the appointment.

No charge.

He knows I don't have insurance.

If same sex couples could marry.. I'd have awesome insurance. Jill is insured by the teachers union.

Still no word from Medicaid. Bills keep piling up. Over $60,000.00 now. I just look at it and laugh. Laugh and laugh and then try to shove the bulking folder back into it's resting place.

Either Medicaid will help or I will be claiming medical bankruptcy.

It's been since January that I applied for Medicaid and NO WORD from that agency. Michigan is in the pooper so maybe they're just pretending no one is applying for help.

HEWP HEWP HEWP!

Jubilation!

I had a CT scan last Friday (a week ago today). This was called a "progress" scan and doctors usually order them after 3 treatments of chemo to see if it's working.

The week was hard, but controllable until the night before. I couldn't sleep well. I went through scenarios in my head as to why she (the doctor) didn't have someone call to tell me good or bad.

Someone called with good news about my brain and bone scan. This must be bad news...

I let it go. I promised myself I'd just enjoy the week and deal with it on Friday when we met her prior to chemo (as we always do).

In the office, while waiting for her (which is always FOREVER) I think I had my first panic attack ever. My heart starting fluttering about out of nowhere. Skipping beats and generally freaking me out. My vision became a little blurry and I felt very dizzy.

I breathed through it and was fine but it was really kind of freakish what your brain can do to you out of the blue.

Dr. VanderWoude walked in and simply said "great news!" and handed me the report.

CT pelvis with intravenous contrast:

The enlarged right iliac lymph nodes present on the prior study have resolved (this is my favorite part.. 'resolved'. Sounds like heaven). No new enlarged lymph nodes are seen. There is no free fluid.

IMPRESSION:

1. Resolution of the previously enlarged right iliac nodes.

2. Stable small nodular densities in lungs.

3. Stable non-enlarged lymph nodes in the chest.

There had been 3 nodules in my lungs and they've remained the same size. This indicates that they're stable and non cancerous. They're too small to remove (under 4 mm). The doctor says it's very common, actually. Probably due to exposure to something like mold, etc. The lymph nodes had actually resolved prior to chemo so... nyeh.

Thems the facts.

We were elated. Tears, etc.

Of course this doesn't mean I'm cancer free. It means, for now, it's in remission. Hopefully forever!

I will continue with 2 more chemo treatments as planned because this can be a very aggressive cancer. Series scans after to monitor those crazy nodes.

I feel like I'm in shock. I am not a very demonstrative or dramatic person. I'm stable and that makes me feel safe and happy. I didn't let the bad get to me. I remained positive. I think the good is the same way. I feel so very relieved and happy but, deep down, I expected to get through this.

Great expectations, eh?

It may or may not be over. I'm too wary of an individual to assume anything else.

But, like Jill says.. this battle has been won.

HA!

In the indelible words of Jill.. "SUCK IT, CANCER!!"

Crying Game

This morning, I woke before Jill and she loves coffee in the morning so I decided to drive to my favorite Starbucks. I hadn't showered and was looking rather gnarly so I figured.. drive-thru, hat.. done.

I slipped on my ipod and the first song was from a compilation from my bestest friend in the world, Sharon. It was "Heavenly Day" from Patty Griffin. She says something about no worries and sitting back watching the trees sway...

Cried.

Saw a beautiful Mallard smashed in the road in front of Aquinas' ponds..

Cried.

I want so much for this to be my history. My past. My memory.

Of course the most beautiful boy working at Starbucks happens to be at the window today. He's been there a long while. They all know me by name when I place my order... it's a picky drink, of course. He calls me "sweetheart" which, normally, would make me bristle. Coming from his whiskey smooth voice, it clams me. I say "keep the change" and he thanks me.. leans forward into my window, astonishingly close and says

"Melissa, I pray for you every night and think about you every day."

His eyes are arresting.

"Jill let us know what's happening with you and... "

I stop him and tell him thank you, touch my hand to my heart and tell him it means a lot. He says "Have a beautiful day, sweetheart". I say "You too!" and smile from my heart.

I pull away and stop in the parking lot to cry. Head in my hands. I hate when people feel sorry for me. But, it was so beautiful, that exchange. It wasn't fake or awkward or forced. It felt like he was washing waves of goodness all over me. It was true.

Somehow I think I will adore life more when I am past this. When I can feel safe enough to do anything I please. That's wrong, though. I've always appreciated the life I've been given. Every day I fall in love with something new. A plant, a color, a smell... whatever. Every day I see the miracle in the design of my cat or the repeated patterns of lighting/vein/branch. I see all of it with open eyes. I'm not asleep. I'm awake.

When I see green hills

I want to fly over them, but very close to the ground. Almost gliding. Like a bird, I guess.

I was talking to a friend about that and every time I see green rolling hills or just flats of green grass, I want to rush over them close and feel the blades touching my belly.

Kind of like when I see a white page or freshly fallen snow on my yard. I want to make my mark somehow. It's just so inviting. I WANT IT!

Chemo session #3. I slept mostly. My legs already feel funny and the neuropathy is really starting to BUG THE FUCK OUT OF ME. :D

I asked for a room and turned the air way down and slept so that was nice. It went by fast. I had my ipod on the whole time almost and would wake periodically to Radiohead. Love.

The day was really warm.. so warm that it kind of had a surreal air to it. Kind of dream like. Beautiful and not humid. Warm but not irritatingly so.

We got the Kindle but not in time before my appointment. Sad, but now I have it and it's SOOO Awesome! Can't wait to lose myself in it tomorrow.

I Said I'm Sad

Today is the first day I've really cried about all this. My head wrap got really hot and I had to wait to get home to take it off. I won't do it in public, I feel so ugly. I cried when I got home. The house was waiting for it, I think.

Everything was so silent and still. The cats were all asleep and the muffled street sounds were so painful to hear.

I tried to avoid it and got onto the computer but it was just waiting for me, sitting on the sofa with its legs crossed smoking a cigarette.

I got up, laid down on the sofa and my sadness laid over me like a sheet.

I cried out for my mom. I cried and missed my dad. I ached for Butter and Bizzy.

Butter, my familiar.. who would crawl up on me under any blanket and slumber. He would come when I cried too. I cried because I hate my body for fucking me over.

I'm letting myself feel sorry for me. It feels good to cry, but it's a slippery slope. I don't want to be sucked down into despair. I'm clinging to the rim.

I want to go to the water and watch the sunset. Perhaps I'll do that tomorrow.

Tomorrow is my first chemo appointment by myself. Jill's grandfather passed and she left this morning.

PLEASE PLEASE let the Kindle come so I can play with a new toy and read. I want to get lost in someone else's world.. especially because it belongs to another.

But mostly, I'm scared.

SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY...

This is the day I get leg pain and it's not nearly as bad as it was the first time. I also did not take my steroids (which my doctor said was up to me depending on how bad the leg pain was).

The steroid is called Dexamethasone and it's icky. It makes my sugar go CRAZY high and that scares me. It also CAN have the side effect of bone pain and blurred vision (both of which happened to me last time). So, I'm steering clear of it and hoping my vision stays the same and perhaps my leg pain will remain slight.

My bald head.

I really am too low maintenance to always worry about a hat. I wouldn't care much if it were warmer but it's really cold and whenever I take my hat or head wrap off it's like my head is wet and wind is blowing on it. FFFFREEZING!!

Everything seems to make it itch too and it's very tender. I have stubble but that's falling out and I like to take the lint roller and run it across my scalp and look at the cool patterns of hair on it from my head. :P

Such an odd experience. I looked at myself today in the mirror and was like "how the hell did I get here?". 4 months ago, I was just me. Now I'm me with cancer. Outcome uncertain. It's horrifying but somehow just not overshadowing my thoughts. It's weird. I guess your mind just copes and you do your thing and that's living life. It always goes on with or without you or your cancer. It calms me to think of the bigger picture. Then I don't feel so sorry for myself. I think of all the people before me, my ancestors and the frailty of life in general. I've really been lucky. I've been gifted with talent and incredible love. What else can you ask for?

oh.. I know.. NO CANCER! :P

Is it crazy that I feel happy in these small moments? I see my cats, one is cleaning himself on my sofa, one is laying next to me on the desk and I hear one snoring slightly. The sounds of the girls in the upstairs apartment. The sigh of the furnace. I want to gather all of these moments to my chest and never let them go. Sometimes I like to stare into the air and recall moments like these, quiet and perfect and my own.

My thoughts are wandering and I'm sorry about that.

My mom.

She doesn't know I have cancer. She's mired in dementia and would only be stressed momentarily until she forgot. I feel so far away from her that it makes my heart ache. We've never been close, but still... the deepest most primitive childlike voice inside me calls to my mom. Don't we all? I've never really called upon her, though. I've always done everything myself but you WANT to call to your mom. You want that nurturing embrace that says "everything will be OK". Never really had it but WANT. Jill gives me that. I don't know how I'd be handling this without her. She makes me strong and lets me be weak. Perfect. I refuse to leave her. REFUSE.

Chemo V 2.0

Second verse, same as the first!

Wasn't as bad as #1 since

A) It's not as long. They can speed it up now that they know your body doesn't react to the meds.

2) My port worked! They sprayed a numbing agent on my chest which hurt like hell and then stabbed me in my decolletage. Only hurt for a second and hands free chemo! I suggested to my nurse Jill and I could put on puppet shows for the patients. I was kidding, Jill was not. She's an ex high school theater geek.

The Benadryl made me woozy. It felt like the drug they give you right before surgery to make you all googoogajoob. It passed within like 1/2 hour or so.

They provide these little 'pods' which consist of a very comfy chair, another chair which your friend might sit on for 4 hours and a padded bench with a built in TV, etc. Crap channels though. We tore through the People magazines provided and in the end succumbed to the woman 10 feet away who spoke WAY too loud and was taking back the night, FO SHO. Her daughter was there and her crazy friend who had panty hose under her slacks and also under her white ankle socks and sneakers. :k WTF? They had holes and runs all over. Jill and I had to talk in code to communicate about it. The woman with cancer had a raspy voice and I was imaging throat or esophageal cancer. Nope, after a few minutes of her loud conversation, it was breast cancer. When her friend and daughter excused themselves to get lunch she was left without an audience and unleashed her cancer-propelled fervor upon us. Her insurance company would not approve a drug for cancer treatment. She conveyed, verbatim, her letter to the company like she had it framed on her wall. It was moving and belittled them at the same time. She asked questions like "what if this drug was for YOUR mother or YOUR sister?? WHAT THEN??" "I deserve to see my children have children, etc. etc.".

She's the kind that takes hold of cancer by the balls and whips it around like a mace. Is that the proper way to be? She reads books with her husband about coping with cancer. She has a Facebook page that guilts her friends and family into donating to breast cancer awareness groups. She wore a pink bracelet and a pink hat. Her cancer is her badge of courage.

Why am I not like that? It just can't be my focus, I don't like to give it any power. Should I?

I try not to worry about it too much. I am very organic about all things in my life. I let it be.

Meditation and visualization are my tools for battle but they're very quiet. She is loud.

I guess there is no right or wrong for any person. Everyone is different.

Jill and I came home and watched Survivor that we recorded last night. Our life is normal except I don't have hair and she took the day off to be with me at my appointment. Perfect.

I let fear worm into my heart at times, but mostly I try not to think about it. Why let it cloud me? I refuse. I want to be the otter of my own fat.¹

1. Laura Keitlinger's (stand up comic) boyfriend's dad was Irish. Once, he said "Laura, you're the otter of your own fat".. which translated to "Laura, you're the author of your own fate".

Bawled..

I know how you feel, kitty. It's just not right!

OH THE AGONY..

THE HUMANITY...

Last night I was watching a scary movie and laying on the sofa. I had my arm behind my head and switched arms and my scalp hurt!

I pushed on it and it hurt again.. an ache really. I sat up, ran my fingers through my hair pulling at the same time and VOILA! My hair..

*cries wildly*

Jill was asleep so I woke her and asked her to shave it. I cried and cried as I watched the pile grow on the table.

I don't boast about anything. Probably my artistic talent would be my most confident point but after that, my favorite thing about myself is my hair.

A local artist/ceramicist (whose name I can't recall just now) had a little shop on Michigan. We went in there one day and she looked at me and said (she was very eccentric) "Your hair is amazing... it's your crowning glory!".

So that phrase has always been with me.

I can take the pain, the aching bones, the crazy sweats, the fever/chills and all the poking and prodding the world could muster.. BUT MY HAIR??? WAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

It felt strange when it was all gone. Like someone peeled my skull back to reveal my brain. Wide open.

I have my head wrapped in a black/white bandana type scarf. It's pretty enough but I'm SOO PISSED!!

I don't like facing the world without my hair.

Why do I start every sentence with "I"? It's a bad habit.

*gnashes teeth*

HALLELUJAH! PRAISE THE BABY!

I feel like myself for the first time in over a week.

I can eat without my stomach going into fits of revulsion.

Or.. having it come out of my body immediately.

TA DA!

I know it's gross so if you don't care to read such bodily filth, skip forward to the happy face.

5 1/2 days of the worst cramping-get-drunk-in-Mexico City-wake-up-in-a-stagnant-pool-of-water-and-get-horrific-parasites diarrhea. It took everything out of me, literally. So weak... my stomach and back muscles got sore. Mmkay?

The culprit? METFORMIN.

After the steroids made my sugar freak the eff out, Dr. Bob (whom I adore) called in a prescription for Metformin. I've never taken this drug. The next day, the big D started and basically stood guard over my entire digestive system for a week. He also gave me another drug to take (while monitoring my sugar) in case the Metformin wasn't working.

After reading that 52.3% of people suffer from diarrhea on Metformin, Dr. Melissa decided to stop taking it and within 48 hours, normalcy. I mean, really? That stuff nearly killed me. All this money for chemo and a $20 bottle of Metformin was winning. I don't know if I'd react to it that badly if I did not have these chemicals in my system. The other sugar medication is keeping my levels the same.

ANYWAY

(INSERT SMILEY FACE)

I feel pretty amazing. Nearly better than normal. Perhaps because my body is so happy to be normal again? Whatever. I do have these hot flashes that leave me sweating. UNCOOL. Sweat is not a friend of the Melissa.

An incredibly dark week though. It wasn't pretty and I hope with everything in me that my next sessions don't go as bad. Now we'll know to watch my sugar and I will gladly flush my bottle of Metformin down the toilet screaming "HA! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?".

Now my hair loss looms. It stresses me out to no end. I just can't imagine it. I've always had dreams where something had happened and my hair was wayyyy too short or shaved and I'd wake up in a pool of sweat.

Most people dream about being chased by Werewolves or being stabbed.. me? Hair loss.

Jill has been my dork in shining armor. She's funny when she needs to be and waits on me hand and foot. She's dealing with the imminent loss of her grandfather who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer (and has lived an amazing life of 96 years). He's on Morphine in a Hospice situation in Missouri. She wanted to see him this past weekend but I was too sick. She said she's square with her grandfather who is an incredible human being... but it killed me inside to know she didn't see him this weekend.

It was hard for me to admit that I needed someone to take care of me, that I needed her.

A fear I've always had about sickness (as do many) is knowing you must rely on others. In my family, it's "do it yourself or it doesn't get done" type of thing. Most of us are really independent creatures. We get sick, we lay in our corner and lick our wounds.. barking at those who get too close.

There was a beautiful moment when I was resting and really miserable. I had my eyes closed and suddenly I saw this amazing open room, very tall and airy with a wall of window-paned glass and the doors were open to a balcony. I could see the city beyond and it was that kind of light where you know it's very humid and sort of hot.. so there's a fog but it's really a heat haze? It looked set in Vienna or something like that. I saw a sitting figure with bilious folds of fabric around her, black and white lace.. a weird bonnet with lace around it. Lots of stone and marble. It seemed clear yet hazy. Came blasting out of nowhere.

It made me think of pianos although I didn't see or hear one.

I think maybe I should take up the Pie-anna!

Ooogies

About 48 hours after my treatment I had some crazy leg pain. From my hips down and up and all over. Muscle, joint, bone.. felt like all of it combined.

Some numbness in my feet and fingertips. My sugar spiked dramatically because of the steroids they have me on (for 4 days following treatment). Hot and cold flashes and basically just feeling tired and feverish/achy.

Lots of sleeping. Some ringing in my ears which wasn't at all ringing.. more like crickets.

I don't feel like myself but no pain, no gain. This is my motto.

Mild depression.. just feeling like I'm going nowhere and doing nothing. Existing in a fugue/ill state.

Blah.

C-H-E-M-O and Chemo was its name-O!

Hi, I'm a Power Port and I suck ass.

The day started off sunny. SUPER sunny and I went into the back 4-seasons room and let the sun make my face feel hot. It felt wonderful.

Jill said when she was little her mom used to curl up on the floor with a pillow in shafts of sunlight?? That can't be true.

The sun makes me happy and represents good fortune. THE END.

I decided this morning that I wasn't going to hate chemotherapy or the drug and think of the toxicity. I was going to embrace it and love it for giving me a second chance.

I get sort of surly when I'm nervous and I want to be quiet. Jill is chatty and talks nonsensically. This is her way. She takes such good care of me. Often I don't see how she can love me, or anyone, so purely. I'm not deserving of that love. She loves better than anyone I know.

They give you an antihistamine to try and stave off allergic reactions to the chemo drugs (carboplatin and taxol). They also give you an anti-nausea medicine prior to the chemo.

They started that and went to flush my port. They couldn't get into it.

A port is a placed device usually on the left or right side of your chest (beneath the skin). It mainlines into your major arteries saving the toxic shock on your veins. Makes chemo MUCH easier.

The nurse had trouble and got the help of another nurse. She tried accessing it as well. By access I mean shoving a really thick needle into the tender skin of my decolletage (so glad I could finally use that word somewhere). I'm no baby with needles and this made me bite my lip. Nurse 2.0 couldn't get it either so they sent me down to Radiology where they place ports and such things to check it out.

Down there another nurse (this one male) tried and couldn't do it either. He was very sweet, beautiful eyes.. tall with a distinct accent. This accent told me he was a brother from another mother.. ie: HO-MO. But then he mentioned taking "our kids" out of the room during Superbowl's half-time. Jill shot a glance at me like "this bitch isn't married to a girl".

They took me into the room where they place ports, etc. The doctor came in and checked it out.. he said it was definitely flipped and TRIED FLIPPING IT BACK MANUALLY! It felt like someone was taking a hand shovel you use to dig soil for planting and exploring my chest. I kept very quiet and still and started meditating and breathing...

At the point I thought I might pass out, the 'mo nurse came over to me and so.. sweetly turned so he was face to face with me and brushed my bangs to the side in the most tender way. He said "are you okay? I know this is hurting you but you're doing fantastic... " I had to hold back tears again. Not because I was in pain or anything but the sweetness that came from that simple gesture of stroking my hair was just so powerful I felt overwhelmed.

Some health care providers act like you're a piece of meat. I understand that because I treat them the same when they're like that. When they're personable and fun, I respond in kind. When they are nicer to me than my mom.. I feel like sucking my thumb. It dismantles all of my defenses. Amazing. Those people are truly caregivers. Gifts to us.

So, chemo traveled through my veins in stead. No big deal. I napped, the room was bright and super sunny. Jill read to me and we looked at People magazines and trash talked Kristen Stewart (Jill says she's a dyke). It took about 5 hours (not including my little trip to Radiology) so it was most of the day.

After, Jill and I went to City Antiques because my hair dresser said they have amazing scarves. They do have some amazing stuff including an owner with a penchant for bad story telling. She actually put a scarf on my head and tied it. It smelled like a funeral home. Cloyingly sweet. Grotesque. After we left, the smell stayed in my hair and I was mad because I don't want to associate chemo with the waiting room at Dent-U-Center.

Mental Snapshots

Lately, I've been taking mental pictures of random things.

On the way home from work, I was stopped at a red light. I looked to my left and saw a beautiful lamp post, a naked tree partially obscuring it, a bleak wrought iron fence with lovely finials. The sky was steely grey and snow was swirling around like it was considering landing on the ground.

*click*

Passed a woman walking her sand colored dog with a red harness. He was far ahead of her and his neck was craned back looking at her like "LETS GO, GAWD!". She had a light blue coat with dark blue stripes on the side and fluffy boots. Her arm was being pulled forward by the dog and she was sort of trip-walking.

It was lovely.

*click*

Life goes on. It really does. It's obscene and horrifying to contemplate your own mortality at such a young age. But just beneath my outer onion-skins is a core me who knows full well that, in the scheme of things, I'm only a blip. A grain of silica if time was all the sand on Earth.

When I cry about it, I think of only the things I'll leave behind. My love, my friends, my family, my cats. Even my stuff. I know that's odd but my stuff is my own. My pen/tablet. My make-up mirror. My clutter, my familiars. I mourn the end of sunsets and snow and IMAX and chocolate.

I've always been in love with life. Always knew the inherent beauty of newly fallen snow. The core-shaking perfectness of a veiny leaf. The exquisiteness of my cat's face.

I'm in stasis. I'm waiting to find out if I will live or not. I hate that feeling. I have to climb out of that barrel with light at both ends and just keep loving the life I live.

Funny thing is, I know there is light in death as well.

Christian Guilt.. it lives!!

My aunt is not Catholic, however.. her guilt-gun is substantial. This is no dainty, ivory-handled pistol. This is a big ass bazooka!

She comes into my work place with my uncle (who always meekly stands 3 feet behind her) and eyes me curiously. I figure she's going to say "We'rs so sorry...".

Nah.

More with the eyeballing. I wasn't in the mood because work had already gotten me uberly irritated. I was very busy and she was just standing there. Why do I have to say anything about it? I know that's why she was there.. so out with it? WHAT????

"How are you feeling?" she says. "I feel great!" I said... and added "My chemo starts on Friday though". I rolled my eyes uncomfortably.

"Chemo for what??" she says. HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHahaaaaa.. seriously?

CHEMO FOR CANCER... WTF ELSE DO YOU HAVE CHEMO FOR??

Of course I didn't say that but I could tell she was already trying to imply that no one was telling her what was going on when CLEARLY she knew? Head games from this little old lady.

I said "chemo for my cancer....." and she said "OH... well.. I didn't know what was going on.. no one tells me anything".

"Oh Melissa, I'm so sorry." Nope.

"We are here for you, Melissa." Nope.

"Can we do anything for you, Melissa?" Nope.

"WELL NO ONE TELLS ME ANYTHING!" Yep.

I'm in hate. Seriously. I managed a forced apology and said it was hard to contact everyone, etc.

The rest of my work day I furrowed my brow until it ached. She squeezed out a flaccid conversation about her own skin cancer and showed me where they removed cartilage from her ear.

Mmmhmm..

kthnxbai.

Quipped Out

Not really in the mood to be whimsical or clever.

We saw Dr. VanderWoude to get test results and chemo info. The nodules in my chest are the same and the lymph nodes are smaller.

However, the lymph nodes in my pelvic area have enlarged a bit. So, she knows there is active cancer there and it seems rather aggressive. So, this is what chemo is for. 1 day of treatment (about 4-5 hours) and then a shot the next day. Three weeks until the next session.

I will lose my hair about 14 days after my first session.. and the Dr. said it will just all fall out.. just like that.. ONE DAY.

SO weird. I'm having issues with this. I don't care if I get sick or whatever.. but the hair. It's been the one thing about myself that I've always liked. I know it'll grow back. It just pisses me the fuck off.

I need to gnaw on some wood or something. SPITTIN' MAD!

My Lovely Bones

More good news! My bone scan was negative for cancer!

I'm so so happy. More happy than my brain scan for some reason. Maybe because I thought, perhaps, cancer was lurking in my bones more than my brain. Who knows what evil lurks in the marrow of bones...

I was radioactive for a while. Perhaps I still am. With bone scans, they inject you with a radiation (tracer) and a camera at the end of the machine picks up the radioactive isotopes that are emitting from your bones. There are no rays or waves or anything shooting through you, you emit radiation and you glow in the dark for a while as well. Also, your pee glows.

I'm a-radioactive...

Sang that all day along with the Tom Waits songs.

Anyway, the image then shows dark spots where there is unusual activity. Perhaps the bone is healing or sending lots of protein/blood to that spot because of a tumor or weakness or cancer.

Either way.. MAH BONEZ IS GOOD BITCHES!!

P.S.

I lied about the glowing parts.

Testing.. 1, 2.. Testing..

Tests. TEST tests and more tests. Stupid, boring.. dumb tests.

Being poked, escorted, pushed and pulled. Injected, radiated and filled with barium sulfate. -_- Drinking that stuff is like chalk that melted in some orange ice cream. DEESGUSTING!

The brain MRI came back clear! WAHOO!! They called tonight after 6 pm and my heart started pounding in my chest. I figured if they called after hours, it's bad. But no, Dr. Vanderwoude just wanted them to call me to set my mind at ease. Isn't that nice?

I closed my eyes and kissed her little forehead in my mind. I was sure there was nothing wrong with my brain (physiologically at least :P ) but I also was sure I didn't have cancer.

That horrific experience was worth it just to know the tiny squirrel in my brain is still chasing after that ever elusive walnut. Wait, there's a hamster wheel in that picture somewhere.

So, CT and bone scan today. Fingers crossed that my nodules haven't grown and nothing funny is happening in my bones.

When I was having the bone scan, I kept thinking "Bone Machine" and singing different songs for that Tom Waits album.

Chemo horrifies me. The toxicity is alarming. I refuse to read about it because I know it's inevitable. Losing my hair horrifies me, but whatever.. it'll grow back. I want to start to get going with the fight but another part of me is happy to put it off.

My new doctor is nice. She seems very thorough. The biggest brownie points she scored with me were her cute shoes. Jill kept asking "What do you think of her?" and I just don't care either way. To me, they are doctors with a blurry thing over their faces. I only have ever loved one doctor and that's my GP, Doctor BOB!!!! Adorable, sweet, personable and so gentle. I love the way his hand lingers just a moment on my back after listening to my breathing or heart. The gentle touch on the arm..

Oh Dr. Bob, how I wish you had lady parts... (JUST KIDDING JILL) xoxo

Vicodin Dreams?

Not sure if it IS the Vicodin but I do dream very vividly a lot.

This was a continuation dream which I never EVER have. When I woke up earlier this morning I was trying to find Jill and Jamie on this cruise ship we were on. I found my family sitting in beach chairs outside (several members at least) and I asked them if they'd seen Jill and Jamie and they said no.

In my dream I had cancer and I remember doing this weird thing in front of them which was sort of acrobatic. Sort of to reassure them I was OK.

Mostly it was hallways in that dream with doors, etc. Little sections of the boat like a beverage stand, a candy stand, a deli, a cafe...

When I woke up just now it was basically the same boat, however I was with Jill and another girl in our room.. family, maybe KJ or Wendy? I did hear Wendy at one point and it was through a ventilation system and she was singing. I sat there for a while listening and loved it.. it was karaoke. She was doing a great job though and I remember thinking to myself how I love when she commits to a part (as she always does). Just like her Marilyn Monroe 'happy birthday' song to me. It was awesome!

I was painting a mural on a small wall.. on a deep red wall like my entry way. Some type of abstract flower with geometric circles of yellow in the center. Then I decided I didn't like it and stuck my hands in the paint and covered it all up. It felt really good. I used my fingers like a brush for a long time, just playing. I left part of the image peeking through because I thought it looked great. I also noted that if the cruise line asked, I could say that was my mural and the cover up was intentional. HAAA!!

Part of it I had my hair sudsy and a salon cape on but I was picking something up off the ground. Patty came in behind me and she talked to me like she didn't know it was me (she couldn't see my face) and she said something like "Did so and so leave you like that? Here, I'll rinse you and get you taken care of". I kind of giggled.

There was a big shower room that was very pretty but when I looked in it, there was red all over the floor.. mixed with water and very dark. For a moment I was taken aback but then I realized it was part of some spa treatment scrub. Hmmm....

Last thing I remembered was sitting in a sort of circle with Aspen to my far left, next to her Kris and KJ's new baby boy (orly??) then Chrissy next to me. I think Pete was to my right, then KJ and Danny. The baby boy said "Love you Mommy".. and it was like his first words and he seemed too young for words. I immediately started crying and Dan said some asshole remark (kind of something dad would have said) about a weak boy loving his mother... I laid my head on Chrissy's shoulder and cried. Jill was there too.. by Kristopher I think and She and KJ cried as well. Then Pete said something about farting and he and Dan laughed again. I thought to myself "I think KJ is crying because she's glad I heard him say that before I die."

Oi.

Musing @ 5 am

Now, every time I feel sick I think "OMG IT'S MY CANCER!"... then I start panicking a teensy bit. I mean, they say stress activates cancer cells.. WELL JESUS HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT BE STRESSED??

A funny pain in my neck becomes a brain tumor. My way of thinking is changing. I'm a super hero when it comes to pain and illness. I put it out of my mind, I give it no power. But now, everything seems so ominous and cancer-related.

All I can do is keep my head down and move forward.

My dreams have been spectacularly lucid and vivid. Colors and patterns are so tangible.

My family has backed off (because they know me so well) but my friends have been relentless. I mean, c'mon! If we haven't talked in 10 years, there is a reason. My being sick doesn't change any of that.

I have a chosen, beautiful family of friends. I feel hot tears just thinking about the amazing and true love I've been gifted. I would do anything for these people. ANYTHING. I even told them I "took one for the team" by getting Cancer. The statistic says 1 in every 5 people get cancer... and my core family is about that. HAAAA!!

I should end this post before it gets any more boring. I'm just biding time until my Vicodin kicks in. *adjusts halo*

M.R.I.. wish I wasn't claustrophobic.

BRAIN SCAN!

What a crazy experience. They lay you down, put a hockey mask over your face and tell you to sit still for 45 minutes...

I passed the place because the sign was barely visible through the thick white of snowfall. I had to double back. Nice enough place but I was nervous just because I get nervous when I don't know what to expect. I was also hesitant because of my semi-claustrophobia.

"Lay down.. shoulders here.. head here.. is this pulling your hair? put in these earlpugs.. whatever you do, don't move.. is this comfortable? arms here or here.. where is your IV for the contrast (seriously? have you eyes?) here's the ball, squeeze it if you need us"

I had to get over the initial feeling of being trapped. I felt something sitting on my stomach too.. which was a bit off-putting. Then her voice distant through ear plugs "are you ready Melissa?"

YESSSS MASTERRRRRR.....

The noise-techno music started. Fairly loud.. shocking really. I can't imagine what I'd have thought w/o ear plugs. SUPER loud.. bzzz.. bop... bzzz... bop.. chigga chigga chigga chigga..

That was the first test. 4 minutes she said.

No sweat.

Second test. SUPER LOUD. Vibrating me, shaking the bed. It went on so long it started sounding like something different. Robot speak. While my eyes were closed (I kept them closed the entire time because I was afraid to see how encapsulated I was) I kept seeing weird water like images. I wish I could draw them in real time. I'll add a psuedo image but they were almost like concentric circles overlapping each other like waves. I thought "am I seeing the magnetics?". I felt like I was beginning to hallucinate.

In retrospect, it's a sort of deprivation chamber. No light, mean temp, but there was plenty of sound.

I then started thinking about Avatar, the movie. How they put that same kind of grid thing over him. I started imagining the images and the beautiful Na'vi woman (main girl don't remember her name). That kind of worked so I went to thinking about Jill and Jamie and their faces and laughing. I also thought about Wall-E's paw from this morning. How it poked into the shaft of light from the bathroom and I could only see his lovely delicate paw.

Near the middle when I was really starting to panic, the droning was getting to me. But, I felt like I could hear water dripping beyond the drone. Like dripping in a big atrium.. from far up into a pool below. It felt like that kind of space.. large and echoing.

From time to time my breathing got funny and I had to breathe slowly.

Finally she said "Last one, Melissa" and I was very happy and relaxed a bit. Thinking of the sound, of nothing, of everything.. random images of me in my car and how the dashboard looks.

They pulled me out and my eyes were still closed. This intense bright light was on my face so I didn't open my eyes until they moved whatever it was. After a minute I squinted my eyes open afraid I was going to be blinded by some crazy light source.. and I realized it was the sun coming through the huge windows to my right. The room was dark when I went in... and visibility was 20 ft at best because of snow.

But the sun.. the sun shone so brightly it felt like the first time I've ever seen or felt it. The word "imbue" came to mind because I felt like it saturated me and the room.. all of us.

It was really beautiful and I bit my lip to stop from crying.

The little things

I am struck at how long I can go without thinking that I have cancer.

Is that good or bad? I sort of don't want to give it any unction, so I don't let it in.

Other times I think "you better start thinking about this". BWAAAHHH!!

Tomorrow is my first appointment with the medical oncologist. She'll be determining my chemo cocktail. WOOHOO!

Will I lose my hair? PROBABLY. The agony.. the humanity!!

Here's my first hat I bought. It's being made for me. I LOVE IT! but I'll probably not be able to use it in the spring or when it gets warmer. :(

You can find it on Etsy.com by seller "emililybug"

Blood Play

Warning: You may find this post super gross if you're a baby what cries.

Most of my cancer was in my uterus. For several months I bled very heavily. One night about a month ago, I took a shower and bled.. and bled. Then I bled some more. I sat down because I felt light headed. Looking down at the white tub with the deep sanguine of my blood making tracks across the bottom I was struck by its beauty. How it moved like a river... how it veined outward. Lightning, veins, rivulets. I'm so much a part of the Earth and it's so much a part of me. Iron comes from space and now it was leaking out of me and draining my vitality.

So, this is my impression.

Photoshop and Corel X painter

Cancer Food

I know they want to help. Truly, I know and I want to LET them help.

But how much lasagna do I have to choke down to make them feel better about my cancer?

Why is food the soothsayer? I'm not dead yet. It's not a wake or a post-funeral feast. STOP MAKING US FOOD!! Well, the cancer BBQ ribs and the cancer veggie hash were spectacular, I have to admit.

I'm such a bitch.

I'm not that fond of people either. I know that's awful, but I love my solitude. I come from a huge family and I love to hide in my home. Draw the blinds and giggle while someone is knocking to come in.

Cancer doesn't change that. It doesn't give you permission to darken my door whenever you want. YOU STILL HAVE TO CALL AND I STILL HATE UNANNOUNCED VISITORS!