What You Mean To Me

It is everything. Each card I find waiting for me on my walk to the post box a good twenty minute hoof from my front door. Some days I march to that box, some I drag a rusted hundred pound ache behind me, but I get there. It is every friend that comes over just to see how I am doing, staying for a nice distracting talk over a steaming cup of tea, most likely dropping off fresh flowers, a casserole, soup, muffins, a bag of fruit. My sister's flood of gifts to help improve my circumstance- the one handed book holder to use during the surgeries, the stream of mood enhancing chocolate, the computer camera so we can Skype, lending me Homer, our Mother's last furry friend to accompany me through all the scary things. The constant phone calls even from New Zealand, New Brunswick, Ontario. Now one of my BFFs is here from Nakusp. Jane is keeping up when I whirlwind through the mornings, then is there to catch me as my motor falters and goes into hibernation mode. I get foot rubs with soothing music playing in the background. A scented candle, my faux fur throw pulled to my chin, lights are dimmed. I lay there and for the first time since this has all happened, I can relax and just absorb the energies that are floating around me. I feel so loved, so surrounded by well wishes. And I want to tell you all thank you. It's as if everything has been choreographed to come in dribbles. It's your turn to do or say something nice for Debi on September 3rd. It's Sharon's turn September 12th, Kelly's September 15th and on it goes. No-one has dropped the ball and I have been buoyed by love for what is starting to feel like a never-ending road. Going on 5 months now and although my faith wavers like a flag going from sun to shadow, none of yours ever has.
If I could say anything about what I have done right with my life, it is that I have somehow managed to surround myself with an amazing cast of caring people.
You can bet I'll be there for you if you ever need the favour returned.
Thank you.

Second Chemo Under My Belt- Burp

I must apologize for taking so long to blog again. Today is Day 8 of the 2nd Chemo treatment. Although I'm more tired, this one seems easier because I know what to do. My mouth is forever dry so I am drinking Gatorade and juices which seems to work for everything but my waistline.But I'm trying not to think about that. I know what foods to avoid, which ones help and to always keep a popsicle or gum within arms reach. I am still swimming 2 days a week and did the circuit training class this morning and then ran with Sandi for another 20 minutes in that early morning -6C weather. Slow but sure. I talked incessantly so that my mind wouldn't know what I was putting my body through.
I managed to find a wig shop in Prince George and the woman was very helpful in how to handle a wig- wash and style and all that. The biggest thing she did for me was stick an under-wig stocking on my head. Such a change! I can wear the thing for more than an hour now. I picked up a brunette, messy-styled do, so now I have 3 wigs, 4 head wraps and a dozen or so scarves that match certain outfits. And a thin stocking cap for night-time. I'm all set! Being a brunette again is strange and I might have to do some clothes shopping for things that match better. The self-pampering never stops! Speaking of- I have been extremely good at limiting any sugar and been strict about no alcohol. The slippage had to happen so last night I let 7 Ferrero Rocher chocolate balls slide down my gullet. I was an automaton forcing them in, one right after another. Doing it quick so that my brain wouldn't catch up to what was going on. It's called Chemo Brain and things can be a little slow to filter in these days (Only these days, Deb?) Seven hip-bulgers later. Wow. I was probably frothing at the mouth as they went in. Mad as a whipped dog.
On a good note-my dear friend Jane arrives tonight and I get weepy at the thought. Actually, a lot of things are making me weep these days: thoughts about the kids coming home for the Holidays, Santa with all those kids getting pictures at the mall, the new water cooler. Not to undermine what it means for Jane coming to help for a week. It was actually supposed to be a week of relaxation for me (finally!) but it has turned into a full schedule of things to do. The ball keeps rolling whether we like it to or not. There are presents still to wrap- the last half dozen, desserts to concoct for the make-up party we're hosting on Monday, the house to decorate for Christmas, a dinner party to attend and a few more Christmas cookies to bake. It will be fun no matter what we do.
Other than the cold head, internal issues I have pills for and the tiredness, I am doing okay. Morale wavers at times, especially after looking in a full-length mirror after a shower but I just chastise myself for looking in the first place. I just feel so beaten up, so dragged through the mud by my ankle. It passes.
I do wonder how slow I'm going to be moving by the fourth session January 5th. I'll be like a turtle. Do turtles swim?
I got a radiation appointment January 15th in Kelowna so we can start making some plans around that. We will be there for at least 6 weeks and possibly 8. We won't know until the consult on the 15th. I am resigned to waiting once again.
Now I must get back to readying the house because the day has finally arrived and Jane is coming! Jane is coming!

Facing That Bald Girl In The Mirror

You know you're a redneck when...you have to vacuum the hair off your sheets in the morning.

Today is the morning after the Ducks Unlimited dinner banquet and auction and I must say between the new stark hair do and the eye-popping two inch false eyelashes, I felt rather like the belle of the ball. With almost one hundred draws between ninety people, I guess my not winning anything meant my luck was already being used up. This morning, surrounded by balls of fur on my pillow, I decided my good fortune had been just having hair intact for the evening!
The itchiness of my head has been telling me for four days that my hair is dead at the roots. My tresses are merely illusional plumage, held in place by the thinnest layer of magnetism to my body. My cartoon character would resemble the Peanut Gang's Pig Pen, where every turn of my head results in a cloud of hay-coloured strands.
No-one at the cancer clinic expanded past the fact that I would lose my hair between 2-3 weeks. But I can tell the next person to go through this that it seemed to come after two days of headaches and then a new itchiness to my scalp. At first the hair came out in my brush, heavier than normal. By day two, a soft tug resulted in 20-30 long strands coming out. So for the next 2 days I did not pull or tug at it, merely patted conditioner into it while showering then patting it dry. Finger comb- no blow drying. Thankfully, that helped it last enough for the banquet.
My friend Kerri that died from brain cancer was wearing a scarf a few weeks into her chemo and I recall laughing at her. You can't have lost it already, I said, so she showed me the moon scape of her head. A definite clear cut! Having my real hair at the banquet meant giving my friends and acquaintances a time to adjust to the fact that I have cancer. Between the extreme shortness of my hair and the promise that it was with me on borrowed time lets them prepare for seeing me next in a head wrap, a wig or bald.
As usual, that is what I say. But as I look at the hair shrouded towel from my head after my morning shower, I can tell you nothing ever prepares you for seeing your own bald scalp on the top of your head. It's a nightmare worthy of a few more alligator tears, a horror worse than anything on Scare T.V.
Okay Deb, time to readjust here. My husband finds some shears and with my head in the garbage can, we laugh and cry and take it all off. I watch the locks pile up beneath me. They're golden with black ends. I stuff some into a bag to save. Then I look in the mirror again. Well, it's not as scary as having a Pixie cut with huge bald patches in it. I don't recognize myself though. I look more like a man. Square face, all face with black peach fuzz dotting the surface like patches of desperate seaweed clinging to a rock.
Stop it! What this baldness is, I tell myself, is a badge of honour. A statement of the difficulties I have been going through and continue to face. It is an elite pass card into a world of amazing people who are facing their own existence square in the eye. These people's lives are changing as is mine. Like butterflies-to-be we are metamorphosing into something beyond the busy, self and time absorbed people we were. We have had to prepare for the worst as there's no denying any of us only have so long to be here. When you have cancer, that fact stares you in the face. You re-evaluate your life and question what you want to get done so that one day you can leave without regret. This makes you more patient about things. Your goals are higher than trying to change the small things that irritate you.
Life has slowed down for a change, to a pace I can handle. I like this pace much better. Today's entire agenda is going to be learning to look in the mirror and seeing past the physical. What I want to see is the brave person I know is looking back for acceptance from myself.
After I succeed at that, I might just crawl back into bed for a nap.
At least this time I won't be needing to vacuum my sheets in the morning.

Day Sixteen and The Sun Is Shining!

Today is a new day. It's -20C and there's 5 inches of hard snow on the ground and I don't care. The sun is brilliant, the sky blue and there's a wide grin on my face! I can't recall feeling this alive, this charged with energy in years. Everything smells better, tastes better (except for raspberries and water still) IS better. I did the Circuit Training class this morning and nudged the treadmill up to 8 a few times. My feet were on fire they moved so fast. Everyone was very obliging to the supercharged cancer girl and moved aside as I ran to each weight station, my stubby hair poking out at every angle. I feel like roaring! I am alive and strong and healthy...well, sort of. As I said to my husband Barry, "keep any one in a dark hole long enough..." It's like I finally caught a break for the first time in ages. I'm able to (almost) feel like me again. I'm back. I'm whole- scarred, lighter with less hair and breast tissue but I'm up and running, swimming, walking, eating. The mouth sores are almost gone and I can actually feel the waning of the chemo's toxicity. It's fading into the background. Round One is almost over. It's like I'm on a reverse sick-leave. I'm on leave from feeling so sick for awhile.
I am determined to use this energy in preparation for the next round of chemo, coming up in 6 days. More baking, bed changing, cleaning and smelling the roses. Hell, jumping over the roses and back again! Back flips, sommersaults, tumbling, tumbling, tumbling.

Thought I would share what a "good day" felt like with everyone to make up for the ugliness of Day 3 and Day 4.

The Hair Is Falling...The Hair Is Falling...

It finally happened, possibly because I was tugging at it all the time. But I pulled and my hair came out in a clump in my hand. I just stared at it. As usual, I knew but never truly believed it was going to happen. Because I am so LUCKY. That rare 1 % who only suffered hair thinning? That would be me. Guess I'm in the wrong lottery and need to save my prayers for other things more important. Like no recurrence and never, never having to go through all this again.
So, yes, a bit of a shocker. But it made for a great party joke. Get a load of this, I told anyone I ran into. Then I tugged at a spot and out came a wad. Yep, big eyes right away. Made me laugh everytime.
My shower this morning was a disaster as I couldn't seem to get the gossamer of hair strands off my wet hands. So I dressed and shuffled off to Shear Delight where my dear friend Caroline (big eyes after I showed her the trick) cut the bulk of layers off. We decided not to razor it yet as we're hoping enough stays for the Ducks Unlimited banquet on Saturday. If I get any bald spots between now and then, we'll deal with it. I'm going to get my make-up done and a last minute hair-do on Saturday, so we'll have to see how it all goes. Another unknown. I handle these so well. But, for now, I still have my own hair! Pixie short, but tug-tug, it's still...oops! Gotta quit that if I want any left for Saturday. Of course we do have two wigs on stand-by, and that's going to be a whole other ball of hair! Wish me luck!

Day Ten On Chemo

Thank goodness for make-up. I am sure the scales will tip with the poundage of cover-up I am pasting on whenever I head to town. My face , chest and back have broken out in acne. Nothing too bad about that- just quit looking in the mirror I tell myself. Tug, tug...the hair is still there, although my skull is tingling and I scratch it frequently. Sigh. It's still all good. I lick my numb lips. Well, mostly all good. The only thing that stands between Chemo Me and the Old Me today resides mostly in my mouth. I keep biting and nibbling at the insides of it and there's an ache that goes up into my ears so I feel right on the verge of an infection all the time. Nothing tastes right and I'm thinking that issue is going to last the entire three months. Suddenly I love Gatorade and tea with milk and honey!
They say Days 7-10 are the bottom. So here we are and it's not bad at all. My energy is climbing back up, possibly from all the sweets I've been allowing myself for the first time in years. The Naturopath advised strongly against refined sugar during the chemo as it feeds cancer cells. So I am trying to go with the Nutrasweet, Sucralose, honey, Stivia thing. But I am dehydrated constantly so much so that I dropped 5 pounds- all liquid. You can see it on me. Even my breasts have shrunk two sizes. The sports drinks are helping me retain some of the fluid, so they're going to have to stay, 42 gms of sugar per bottle and all! I'll have to remember to ask the nutritionist about that when I see her again, but somehow I know that dehydration has to be stopped anyway possible. Regular water tastes horrible- like drinking aluminum from a tap, so I'm sticking with the milk, juices and sports drinks.
Lately I've had fewer times out on the couch during the day. Thanks to my girlfriend Sharon, I managed to get Skype downloaded onto my laptop and running, something that even the thought of doing last week was draining. I'm feeling so good that in one breath I say I am ready to do this all again. Give me another round. In the next breath I realize there are still lingering symptoms. If I was to take an honest stock account, I'm like an engine running on three of four cylinders. Not all there, but the car still runs.
Eleven days to Chemo Two. But as far as I'm concerned, we can do this! Burp...Honey...where's the antacids?

Day Five and Stablizing

Well, once I got to sleep after taking a Tylenol for the sore joints, a heartburn tablet and an anti-nauseant I slept right through until eight this morning, time change and all! Not too much hot flashing last night. Maybe this wanes after the first few days? My helpful pharmacist poured me a tall glass of Gatorade and popped another anti-nauseant into me and I felt not too bad for the first time in 48 hours. Good enough to get up and make French toast and go for a walk in that amazing sunshine! Tromping through the two inches of fresh snow was fun, although my knees still ache and I can't believe I was jogging only 3 days ago. I feel like an old woman with "ginny joints".
As you can tell, the attitude has changed today. I have found a few more things that help settle my stomach like Jello and popsicles, ice cream and hummous. Then there are the things I should definitely avoid- spices, aspartame, metals. And raspberries? Maybe it's all in how you manage this? Whatever works is my new Motto, so I'm almost excited about dinner tonight. I'm planning on more cheese sauce, mashed potatoes and soft vegis with chicken. Comfort food.
Two more days to hit "bottom" on the road to the lowest point in the Immune system during the three week cycle. Then I have to be careful of infection, avoiding large groups of people, anyone with a cold and of course, any more raspberries! I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to look at a raspberry the same way ever again.