I guess if you put it in fractional terms, it makes it sound a little better than 3 down, 9 to go. Next week I'll be 1/3 done, and that sounds even better. This may be a good lesson to go over with my class. We are on the fractions unit, so it fits.
Anyway, thank you for all your kind words about my father-in-law. Yesterday we had the memorial service, and it was a beautiful tribute to him. All of his kids said a few words. Very touching.
We also had my side of the family here for Thanksgiving. It was great to have everyone here. Typical of most holidays - lots of food, laughing, singing, game playing, and drinking (them, not me). I'm thankful that we had the time together to just hang out. Needless to say, between the two events, Stein and I are just lying low today.
Some good news on the cancer front - I had a doctor's appointment before my last treatment, and he said that the tumors that could be felt are shrinking. I knew that they would start shrinking, but I thought that wouldn't happen until after the 3rd or 4th treatment. It's amazing, because the tumor that led to the diagnosis can barely be felt now.
In the meantime, we're getting used to the new normal. We have our treatment day routine down, from applying the numbing cream to keeping my "chemo bag" packed with all kinds of goodies. I usually don't need half the stuff I take with me, but it's nice to have it if I do. Treatment weekends are usually pretty casual, and then the week after is back to work and life as usual.
Chris was here for my last treatment (thanks again, Chris!), and we took count of the people around me who didn't have ports (3 out of 4!). At my last doctor's appointment, I said thank you to him for giving me a port. He kind of laughed, but I really wanted to let him know that he's doing a good thing when he puts it on a patient's "to-do list". It's not the most comfortable thing to have this bump coming out of my chest, but it's better than getting poked each time I have to give blood or get a treatment.
Also at my last treatment, I was lucky to have the same nurse administer my chemo who did the last time. It's always nice to have some consistency when you feel like just another number in a chair in the huge sea of chairs. We were able to chat about what's been going on with each other and talk about upcoming plans.
In the hair department - it's still hanging on. It's very thin, and my part is parting like the red sea, but I haven't had to break out the wigs, hats, or scarves yet. I'm fine just waiting. And while we're knocking on wood, knock one more time. I know that the effects are cumulative, but overall I haven't had any bad nausea. I definitely don't feel 100%, but I know I'm lucky to not be feeling a lot of the effects. Yet.
I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving spent with family and/or friends. I'm thankful for all of you and your continued prayers and support you send our way.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Hope and Courage
I'm going to veer away from me for a moment. Don't worry, won't be long until we're back in cancer land again! (I know you love hearing about all the intricacies of my procedures.) But first I have some sad news.
My father-in-law passed away yesterday. For those of you who knew him, or knew of him, know that he has been battling Parkinson's for over ten years, and has had a lot of other ailments that stemmed from the Parkinson's. In the last few years, it was hard for him to communicate, and you could tell this was extremely frustrating for him. He was a pretty social guy before the onset of Parkinson's, so the disease took a ton of his personality away.
Even though I'm the newbie in the in-law category of the family, I have always felt welcome in the family, in large part by Jerry. It became apparent even before I met him that he played a huge role in his kid's lives. When I finally met him (which is another post in itself), I felt comfortable immediately.
I'm glad to have known him, and it is obvious by the countless people who have connections to Jerry, that they are glad too. He will definitely be missed, but the memories that we have will help us get through.
Yesterday, when Stein called me at school to tell me he died, I immediately left school to get to the house. I was driving through Chelsea and noticed what was painted on "the rock" in the park on Main Street. It said "Hope and Courage". I thought this was so fitting for Jerry, who never gave up hope for his family and friends. He was courageous in trying times, and showed us all how to live a life fully despite being dealt some terrible cards.
Hope and courage is what's getting me through my hand of bad cards right now. I like to think that Jerry's influence has shown me how to handle it with grace.
My father-in-law passed away yesterday. For those of you who knew him, or knew of him, know that he has been battling Parkinson's for over ten years, and has had a lot of other ailments that stemmed from the Parkinson's. In the last few years, it was hard for him to communicate, and you could tell this was extremely frustrating for him. He was a pretty social guy before the onset of Parkinson's, so the disease took a ton of his personality away.
Even though I'm the newbie in the in-law category of the family, I have always felt welcome in the family, in large part by Jerry. It became apparent even before I met him that he played a huge role in his kid's lives. When I finally met him (which is another post in itself), I felt comfortable immediately.
I'm glad to have known him, and it is obvious by the countless people who have connections to Jerry, that they are glad too. He will definitely be missed, but the memories that we have will help us get through.
Yesterday, when Stein called me at school to tell me he died, I immediately left school to get to the house. I was driving through Chelsea and noticed what was painted on "the rock" in the park on Main Street. It said "Hope and Courage". I thought this was so fitting for Jerry, who never gave up hope for his family and friends. He was courageous in trying times, and showed us all how to live a life fully despite being dealt some terrible cards.
Hope and courage is what's getting me through my hand of bad cards right now. I like to think that Jerry's influence has shown me how to handle it with grace.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Treatment #2, Characters, and What Not
Treatment #2 went a lot like treatment #1, except I didn't really have the nerves to go along with it. I knew what to expect, knew somewhat of how I would feel afterward, and knew that eventually I would feel back to "normal". It's a whole new normal, let me tell you...
On the way into the Cancer Center, it's surprising to me how many people (patients and visitors) who I see smoking. In the parking garage, which is literally 50 feet away from the entrance, people exit their cars and immediately light up. It's like a person starting a diet on Monday, I guess. Eat all the junk food you can on Sunday before the diet starts!
This time, as I got out of our car in the garage, I looked down and saw that someone who had been there before us thought it was a good idea to empty their ash tray onto the ground of the garage. Lovely. Then, as Stein and I were walking into the Cancer Center, there was an older man leaning against a pillar outside, puffing on a cigarette like it was his last before his execution.
Speaking of characters, there are always quite a few when going for treatments or other appointments. Stein and I are very entertained by other people and their quirks. (We're laughing with them, not at them, of course.) It definitely makes the time go by and sometimes it just lightens the mood. Other times it makes me thankful that my neuroses are somewhat normal.
We were waiting at the lab for my turn to go in for blood work, and another woman went in before me. I could hear some of the things going on in the lab, and at one point a tech said to another one, "We need some help down here." I knew from experience that the help needed was probably for a person who didn't have a good vein, or they tried several times with no success. (Oh, I remember those days vividly).
I didn't pay much attention to it, because it was my turn next, and I had other things on my mind. Later, Stein said that a woman came out yelling to her friend that she will never go to the male tech in the lab because he was awful. From the way Stein described where she was sitting, I remembered the woman who had been sitting there.
Fast forward to my "spa hours" of treatment. About half-way through, another patient was seated in the chair next to mine. Stein motioned to me like he had a story about her. I recognized her from the waiting room at the lab. She was the yeller! I gave Stein the "I know exactly what you're talking about" look.
We came to find out that this woman doesn't have a port, so each time she goes in for blood work and chemo she has to get an IV started. The only problem? She's deathly afraid of needles. I guess they have tried sedatives and other ways to get her to relax, but it was obvious that this was a big problem. I looked at my port and said a silent thank you to my doctor. We learned that everyone doesn't get a port from the get-go. It's up to the doctor whether he/she will send you to get one before starting treatment. Sometimes it takes the nurses in the treatment rooms to recommend a port be put in because of issues that may come up.
. . . . .
In other news, I got my haircut on Saturday. I wanted to be a bit ahead of the losing game, and not have long clumps of hair come out. I got it cut up to my chin in a bob. It looks cute, it's easy to style, and it takes a lot less shampoo to wash it. I don't know how long it will last, because today when I washed it in the shower, a lot of hair came off. It's not like I have bald spots or anything, but the drain in the bathtub was certainly more stuffed than usual.
I have a line-up of wigs waiting to be worn, and some hats too. I'm thinking about getting some scarves, and my friend Johnny recommends that I bring back the turban. We'll see. I don't know exactly what I'll end up doing on a regular basis, but I like to have options available.
Lastly, thank you. Thank you for your continued check-ins to see how we're doing. Thanks for the laughs, the funny texts, the cards that crowd our mantle, and the thoughtful gifts and packages you send our way. Thanks for the food, the prayers, and recommendations of things to try for various ailments.
We're lucky to be surrounded by such great people. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
On the way into the Cancer Center, it's surprising to me how many people (patients and visitors) who I see smoking. In the parking garage, which is literally 50 feet away from the entrance, people exit their cars and immediately light up. It's like a person starting a diet on Monday, I guess. Eat all the junk food you can on Sunday before the diet starts!
This time, as I got out of our car in the garage, I looked down and saw that someone who had been there before us thought it was a good idea to empty their ash tray onto the ground of the garage. Lovely. Then, as Stein and I were walking into the Cancer Center, there was an older man leaning against a pillar outside, puffing on a cigarette like it was his last before his execution.
Speaking of characters, there are always quite a few when going for treatments or other appointments. Stein and I are very entertained by other people and their quirks. (We're laughing with them, not at them, of course.) It definitely makes the time go by and sometimes it just lightens the mood. Other times it makes me thankful that my neuroses are somewhat normal.
We were waiting at the lab for my turn to go in for blood work, and another woman went in before me. I could hear some of the things going on in the lab, and at one point a tech said to another one, "We need some help down here." I knew from experience that the help needed was probably for a person who didn't have a good vein, or they tried several times with no success. (Oh, I remember those days vividly).
I didn't pay much attention to it, because it was my turn next, and I had other things on my mind. Later, Stein said that a woman came out yelling to her friend that she will never go to the male tech in the lab because he was awful. From the way Stein described where she was sitting, I remembered the woman who had been sitting there.
Fast forward to my "spa hours" of treatment. About half-way through, another patient was seated in the chair next to mine. Stein motioned to me like he had a story about her. I recognized her from the waiting room at the lab. She was the yeller! I gave Stein the "I know exactly what you're talking about" look.
We came to find out that this woman doesn't have a port, so each time she goes in for blood work and chemo she has to get an IV started. The only problem? She's deathly afraid of needles. I guess they have tried sedatives and other ways to get her to relax, but it was obvious that this was a big problem. I looked at my port and said a silent thank you to my doctor. We learned that everyone doesn't get a port from the get-go. It's up to the doctor whether he/she will send you to get one before starting treatment. Sometimes it takes the nurses in the treatment rooms to recommend a port be put in because of issues that may come up.
. . . . .
In other news, I got my haircut on Saturday. I wanted to be a bit ahead of the losing game, and not have long clumps of hair come out. I got it cut up to my chin in a bob. It looks cute, it's easy to style, and it takes a lot less shampoo to wash it. I don't know how long it will last, because today when I washed it in the shower, a lot of hair came off. It's not like I have bald spots or anything, but the drain in the bathtub was certainly more stuffed than usual.
I have a line-up of wigs waiting to be worn, and some hats too. I'm thinking about getting some scarves, and my friend Johnny recommends that I bring back the turban. We'll see. I don't know exactly what I'll end up doing on a regular basis, but I like to have options available.
Lastly, thank you. Thank you for your continued check-ins to see how we're doing. Thanks for the laughs, the funny texts, the cards that crowd our mantle, and the thoughtful gifts and packages you send our way. Thanks for the food, the prayers, and recommendations of things to try for various ailments.
We're lucky to be surrounded by such great people. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
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