Chicken Fried Love

Eulogy for a Cat

2010-12-06T13:35:00.000-08:00

Almost exactly two years ago I penned a blog titled "Ode to a Cat," consisting of a poem inspired by a week of cat-sitting our friends' cat, Athena. I had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with Athena, due to the fact that I was spending most of my days two years ago recovering from chemotherapy. Athena and I had a lot of time to bond. That made for a very sad day Saturday when we learned that Athena had to be put down due to the failure of her kidneys. Now I know that there are some who might find it strange or even inappropriate to eulogize a cat; likely those people have never had a pet who they regarded as part of their family. A systematic theology professor of mine and a professed animal lover once told our class that she believed that our beloved pets go to heaven. She cited our belief that God's plan for redemption included ALL of his creation, and she saw no reason why that didn't also include the animals that fill our lives with joy.

Athena was adopted when she was a year old from a shelter. By all accounts, Gabriel and Shannon were looking to adopt an animal that would fit well into their busy lifestyle, and a cat seemed like a perfect option. As I thought more about the time I spent with Athena, I realized that she was a cat who did things on her own terms. You cat lovers out there are probably thinking, "What cat doesn't do things on her own terms?" For example, Athena loved attention and affection, but she hated being held. Whenever we would come home during the week we kept her, she would yowl at us with a meow louder than you would think that small of a body could produce. I always imagined that she was yelling, "Where have you been all day!?!? Why haven't you been here paying attention to me?" She was never quiet about her discontent.
She loved to play, but only when she wanted to, and then she was fickle about the toys. She loved one toy, for a couple of days or weeks, and then would ignore it. She hated her cat carrier and protested loudly when placed into it, once by pooping in it. I will never forget the cat rodeo I got to witness one time when Gabriel attempted to catch her to take her home after a trip. She was a ferocious guard cat. Anytime I would take Bailey over to Gabriel and Shannon's backyard to play, Athena would sit at a window or door shooting daggers at us (or more likely just Bailey) with her eyes. Probably most ironically, this small shelter cat who, all bets would have been, inexpensive to upkeep, turned out to be quite expensive. Because of her bad kidneys, she needed medicine and frequent vet trips, not to mention special food and treats. but arguably she was worth every penny. Most of all, Athena was a survivor; she lived much longer with poor kidneys' than anyone could imagine, and we were all surprised this last time when she wasn't able to battle through.

Athena brought love and laughter into the lives of Gabriel and Shannon, and indeed all the lives of those who took care of her or spent much time with her. The Torres' are expecting a baby girl in March, and I know that they will tell her stories as she grows up about their first cat together, Athena, and about all of her antics and eccentricities. Athena made the world a better because she existed, and because she allowed us to love her. I think that deserves the honor of a eulogy.

Put the Cancer Card Down

2010-08-10T14:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening, I received a phone call from an old friend whom I hadn't spoken with if months, if not years. She's one of those old friends with whom you have so much history that, even if you haven't spoken in a very long time, you always seem to pick up where you left off.
She told me about what was going on in her life, and I told her that I was working on a book. As I reluctantly described the premise of the book (which draws from my experience with cancer), she said off hand, "You know, you can't play the cancer card forever."

I know she meant it as a joke, but it kind of got me riled up.

Justin and I joked, along with some other friends, about how many cancer cards I got after I got sick. A cancer card, for those of you who might be unaware, is just a euphemism for how many times you get to use your illness as an excuse to get out of something or a reason why you should get something.* Justin and I agreed, tongue in cheek, that I got 3 cancer cards a month as long as I was going through treatment. I could use my cancer as an excuse not to go to a party or for buying a new shirt, or for why I was too tired to make dinner, etc...

Of course now I've been in remission for a year and a half, which is awesome, but my friend's statement illuminated something for me. I imagine that she looks at me and thinks, cancer was an event in my life and now it's over - so move on. Stop playing the cancer card; you don't have cancer anymore.

However, as other cancer survivors might agree, cancer was not an "event" in my life. Cancer changed my life, myself in an indelible way that can't be seen on the surface. I've grown back the hair I lost and lost a lot of the weight I gained while fighting cancer, and other than the odd scar here and there, it would be hard to look at me and see the effect cancer has had on my life. But cancer changed my life outlook, my career path, my expectations, my plans for having a family....it changed me. For better or worse, my life is undeniably changed. That doesn't mean that I play the cancer card anymore....I won't use cancer as an excuse in my life. I intend to try and live my life to the fullest and to use my experiences with cancer to make my life better. I'm writing a book. I've mentioned that already, but I'm writing a book about 6 women whose lives have been indelibly changed by cancer, cancer of their own or of a loved one. It's a book about their journey, how they learn to live their lives interrupted, and how they love and support one another through the ups and downs, life and death. When my friend heard I was writing a book about women surviving cancer, she didn't understand, because from the outside it looks like cancer was a bump in the road. She thinks that I should have a new story...a new tune. She's wrong, but I plan to show her and everyone else. I plan to finish this book, as a catharsis for myself and, hopefully, a help for others. I will take the lemons that I was given and make lemonade. And when I'm done, I'll probably offer my friend a drink. :)

*Although it didn't fit into the blog, I thought I would mention the most egregious of the cancer cards I ever played for your giggles.

A bunch of our friends were at the bowling alley, celebrating my two friends' birthdays. At the time, I was in the middle of my new round of chemo which had left me with a picc line (picture 2 foot long tubes hanging out of my right arm), a head absent of hair (not to mention a face as well), and the bloated, hairless, pale moon face. In other words, I looked ever bit the cancer patient. There were about twelve of us at the party, and we had purchased a couple of pitchers of beer and soda, but it was hot and some of us wanted water. Two of the girls in our group had gone up separately to the concession stand, trying to get a pitcher of water, but they were denied. The girl told them that it would cost $7 a pitcher...as much as a pitcher of soda or beer. Each came back and reported her failure, and after the second one came back I said, "Let me try. I'll get some water."

I trudged up to the cancer stand in all my bald, cancer-ey glory, and asked the girl in a sweet voice. "Could I possibly get a pitcher of water? I need to take my evening pills and I have to drink a lot of water with my condition."
I could see the lady behind the counter take in my physical condition, and then almost watch her weigh her pity against the rules which she was entrusted to enforce, the rules she had enforced with such gusto with my friends. Aware that she was deliberating when she said, "Well..." followed by a long pause, I gave her my best doe eyes and attempted to look as pathetic as possible.
".....alright," she said, pursing her lips, "but don't tell anyone I did this or I'll get in trouble."
I gave her my biggest, sweetest smile and thanked her. To make her feel better I laid it on thick. "Thanks for this," I said as she scooped ice into a pitcher and filled it with the water button on the soda hose, "I have to drink a lot because of all the drugs they give me to fight the cancer." She rewarded me with a kind smile.
"It's no problem," she said.

When I returned to my lane, my friends were suitably impressed and amused as I relayed the story. Justin, it should be noted, immediately removed not one, but two of that month's cancer cards. One because I used cancer to break the rules, and the second card because I told a wee white lie. I didn't really have to take any pills that evening. I know, I know....it was wrong. But I was on a lot of chemo at the time and my liver was probably happier with water over soda....definitely over beer.

And that's my most egregious use of a cancer card. Don't judge me. :)

A Rant

2010-07-07T13:49:00.000-07:00

I generally try not to use my blog to preach or teach or rant to others about how they live their lives. My goal, generally, is to be introspective, and hopefully the things I discover about myself and the experiences I share can be of use to others, be that for personal edification or just for a laugh. I hope, then, that you my friends will indulge me in a little rant today. Today, I go off the rails.

When did we as a society decide to jettison personal responsibility out the window? We have become as a people so greedy, so entitled, and so very whiny in almost all aspects of our lives. Life is unflinchingly unfair. Actually, let me rephrase that. There is no guarantee in life of equality. There is no quota for how good or bad things will be. We don't all start out life with the same circumstances or the same opportunities. Some of us are born with silver spoons in our mouths, while others get one of those plastic spork things that don't really work so well as either a fork or a spoon.

Take me, as an example. I have lived to see and experience a whole lot of suffering, and I would venture to say I've seen more than the average 28 year old, although arguably much less than some. However, I don't think that my lot is particularly fair or unfair. It's just the way it is. It sucks. But I have the personal responsibility to make lemonade out of lemons. I don't have the right or the option to sit around and bemoan the things which have happened to me, but instead must pull myself up by the boot straps and get on with making the best sort of life of it that I can. My crappy lot in life does not grant me permission to take from others. It does not free me from suffering in the future. They are just the cards I was dealt.

Even more offensive to me are people who make choices which complicate their lives, and they feel as if they can whine and complain about the unfairness of life. I am responsible for the choices I make, be the personal, financial, or professional. If I buy something I can't afford, I'm responsible for figuring out a way to pay for it. If I date someone who's not the best person, I'm responsible for the drama that comes my way. If I don't work hard at my job, I shouldn't be surprised at the lack of success and promotion.

As they say, you make your bed, and then you have to lie in it.

Mediocre at Best

2010-07-06T11:42:00.000-07:00

Doubtless, I've mentioned in this blog my struggles with self-discipline. Indeed, if I happened to be more disciplined, I could probably go through the blog archives and cite individual examples, but alas, I lack the discipline. My goals for self-improvement lately have completely been focused on self-discipline. Weight loss, writing, job searches....all these require one to be a self starter. Personally, I tend to be more successful when I have defined tasks and deadlines. Justin has tried to help me with setting up a calendar, but that got poo-pooed the first week when I wasn't disciplined enough to get up at 6:00 AM and get to the gym on time. In my defense, I couldn't get back on schedule this week because I sprained my ankle, but next week when I can walk....look out world. Have I mentioned that I am a terrible procrastinator too?

I am determined to overcome my shortcomings and accomplish something great. Or at least rise slightly above mediocrity. You should be proud of me; I'm off to a good start by following the schedule and warming up by writing my daily blog post. Although I am fearful that this entry will go down in history (or be totally forgotten) as being completely unremarkable, I am determined to submit it anyways. That's another one of my flaws...that if I don't think something I do is great, I lack the desire to do it at all. So this is growth, blogging something I don't love. Not to mention cheap therapy. I mean, people pay thousands of dollars and spend hours of their lives to achieve this kind of introspection.

It's not my best work, but some days, mediocre is better than nothing.

Shorn on the 4th of July

2010-07-05T14:51:00.000-07:00

Memories of Independence Day always seem to blend together, probably because they are often filled with many of the same activities, foods, and people. One 4th of July, however, stands out starkly in my memory. July 4, 2000, was the midpoint of a hellacious summer. It had begun with a diagnosis of stage 4 breast cancer for my mother, and would be soon followed by a car accident which killed my grandmother and injured my grandfather. As I remember it, we were all still somewhat shell-shocked by the cancer diagnosis and were learning how to exist in a normal way day to day in a world which felt anything but normal. My memory is punctuated by certain events that summer. For example, I remember the afternoon that my family went and saw the movie Shanghai Noon which was out in the theaters that summer. It was the first time we had really laughed since the diagnosis, and it dawned on me that from now on I would live in a world where joy and grief and fear would coexist with one another from moment to moment.

Independence Day, 2000, dawned sunny and warm, as it almost always does in Texas. Marla and I awoke to the sounds of my father yelling for us to get up. He yelled, "Girls! Katie! Marla! Get up and come out here! Hurry up!" Both of us, knowing that once Dad decided he wanted us awake there would be no more sleep to be had, stumbled out of bed in our pjs and grumpily made our way out to the side porch whence he yelled. As we slowly made our way the office door swung open again and he yelled, laughing as he did, "Hurry! You have to see this!"

In my groggy state, my brain scrambled to figure out what he could possibly want us for. He had been known to occasionally find and bring home various and sundry creatures, including but not limited to tarantulas, turtles, and snakes. Maybe he had run into something with the lawnmower, although, I couldn't figure out why he would be so eager for us to see that. By he time my brain had run through all these things, Marla and I had arrived at the office door and walked outside.....and the screaming began.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you see something that is so wrong, so completely out of normal context and against everything that is right and good in the world that your brain goes into meltdown mode? This was one of those moments.

My mother had started chemotherapy a couple of weeks prior to that particular morning, and her hair was beginning to fall out so, apparently, my parents had decided that it would be best for dad to just go ahead and shave her head. So they got the clippers, went outside to the porch, and dad had fired up the shears. Having his own peculiar sense of humor, he had begun the haircut by shaving off all the hair on the top of her head, leaving the rest of the hair in tact which resulted in a look similar to that of Friar Tuck. It was one of the strangest things I'd ever seen, and we were both so disturbed, that we yelled, "Oh my God! That is so sick," and turned and went back into the house as they laughed.

It was another stark reminder about how life had changed so quickly and drastically, seeing my pretty mother looking so bizarre. It was only slightly less bizarre to see her completely bald, given how she had always had a full head of thick beautiful brown hair that was often the envy of others. But upon reflection, I realize that my parents gave us a gift that day. They gave us permission to laugh, permission to find the funny in the midst of the horrific. I have often heard people say, "If I didn't laugh, I would cry," and in that moment, they chose to laugh in the face of it all instead of being sad.

The rest of the day, as we went to pool parties and watched fireworks, people asked questions and rubbed my mom's head, as she good naturedly joked about it. I know now, from my own head shaving experiences, that it couldn't have been as easy as she made it seem, but she kept her head up anyways. I've seen some incredible fireworks on the 4th of July through the years, but that was the most amazing thing I ever saw on any 4th of July. And I'm pretty sure it always will be.

Thou Shall Not Covet Thy Neighbor's Ass

2010-06-29T12:33:00.000-07:00

I remember being a child in Sunday School when we learned about the Ten Commandments because, being the type of person I am, as we went over them I immediately began to tally in my head how good/not good I was based on how I evaluated my own obedience to the commandments. It went sort of like this:
No Gods before me - Check
No Idols - Check
Don't take the Lord's name in vain - Check*
Remember the Sabbath - Check
Honor your mother and father - Check **
Do not murder - Check
Do not commit adultery - Check
Do not steal - Check
Do not bear false witness - Check***
Do not covet - (Uncomfortable silence...at least as soon as I learned what covet meant)

* Note - this was before I learned to swear like a sailor...still working on that
**Note - I gave myself a pass on this one at the time based on a "more often than not" judgment
***Note - I determined that I only rarely told lies against my sister and, really, if God knew how difficult she could be, He would give me a pass.

To this day, twenty years later, coveting still gives me the most trouble of all the commandments. Especially lately, it feels like I'm struggling a lot to keep myself from coveting what others have. I will try to resist the urge to defend myself to cyberspace; not justifying myself by protesting that I'm not coveting mansions, or a Porsche, or some kind of designer clothing. Mostly I find myself coveting things which most of my peers take for granted on a day to day basis. A house, health, a career, a child....the ability to wear size 4 jeans. (Ok, so this is where coveting thy neighbor's ass takes on a whole new 20th century connotation.)

The worst thing about coveting what someone else has is that it tends to make one bitter and impedes upon the ability to celebrate others good fortune and joy. For example, when a friend of mine has a baby, I don't want my first thought to be discontent about my own inability to have a child. I want to rejoice in the new life. I want to be glad when someone I care about gets a promotion or lovely place to live for their family. I don't want to be envious.

Envy seems to bring out the worst in people, at least it does in me. I morph into this narcissistic beast who dwells only on what she doesn't have. People are always searching for the secret to happiness, and although I don't have that secret, I am pretty sure that the secret to unhappiness is to indulge yourself in coveting the possessions of others. So what's there to do about it? For me it's a daily exercise of looking at what I DO have, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. For example, as I type these very words, I can't help but be very grateful for the furry companion who has slowly inched her way down the couch so that she can nap with her muzzle resting against my arm. To touch me gives her comfort, and I must admit that the feeling is mutual. I am thankful for that

Finally, I resolve instead of being enviousness, to go out and get the things I want....as least as much as I can. I will keep writing, keep dreaming, keep working out. And hopefully fit into my own skinny jeans one day.

A Dress, a Wink, and a Prayer

2010-06-25T15:01:00.000-07:00

I made a classic girl error. Let me rephrase that. I made the classic girl error of anyone who has ever needed to lose some weight. You make an unreasonable goal. For example, you decide that you're going to lose 50lbs in 2 months, or that you'll get back to the size you were in high school for your 20 year reunion. You know, that sort of thing. Which brings us back to me. When I decided to try and lose weight, I set an unreasonable goal for myself. To fit into a bridesmaids dress for my sister's wedding (in June) which was two sizes smaller than what fit when I ordered it (February). Stupid. A word to the wise....don't ever do this. It's easy to have a dress taken in or wear a dress that's a little big for you. The other way around, i.e. having a dress that's too small, is bad. Very bad. I've done this not just once, but twice. I bought a slightly smaller size than what fit for my friend Maryann's wedding and I just barely squeezed in it, and I swore I would never do it again. Even I don't listen to myself.

If I was going to be completely honest I would confess that I actually originally bought a dress that was 3 sizes smaller than what fit in February. Not just stupid. Really stupid.
Ultimately, when the dress came in in April, I took one look at it and knew that there was no way I was going to make it into that dress by June. A fitting confirmed my worst fears. My husband calmed my hyperventilating panic by telling me to order a bigger dress, and so I did. We back to the dress that was 2 sizes smaller. Now, this dress zipped, but just barely, right before I began a whirlwind of traveling before the wedding. This was a little disconcerting because we all know that it is nearly impossible to stay on and diet and exercise plan when you're traveling about to an fro. But I thought, surely if I just maintain or lose a little more, everything will be fine.

In the month before the wedding, I flew to Dallas for a bridal shower, back to California for another wedding, and the back to Dallas to get ready for the wedding. By the time that it came to the week of the wedding, I had managed to lose a couple more pounds which made me feel secure in the fact that it would fit. Until I tried it on....and the zipper opened from the bottom. I got the zipper back down, but I failed to realize that there was a flaw in the zipper and that it was never going be able to bear the pressure of a snug dress. Mistake. Then, on Friday night, the night before the Saturday of the wedding, I tried on the dress and the zipper refused to stay zipped. When Justin tried to move zip it down, the zipper ripped off one side. At that point, I began to gag and hyperventilate at the same time, which is not a good combination. At this point, things got wild. I was panicking, Dad was incredulous, and Justin was coming up with hair-brained plots to fix the dress. The plans ranged from sewing hooks and eyes up the zipper line, sewing me in it, duct tape, and safety pins. None of these things engendered much confidence.

Then, Dad called our family friend, Sherry, and after a short conversation it was decided that we should head down to Waxahachie and let her see what she could do. So at 10PM, Dad and I got in the car and headed down there. When we arrived, Sherry was there along with her next door neighbor who just happened to be, miracle upon miracles, a seamstress. (Cue angels singing from Heaven) I turned over the offending garment and they set to work. After about 30-45 minutes of fiddling with the zipper, they determined that they were not going to be able to fix it. It was decided that Dad and I would drive to Walmart (Thank God for 24 hour Walmarts!) and buy another zipper whilst Sherry and her neighbor ripped out the old one. Dad and I did what we were told and we bought a normal zipper as well as a heavy duty metal zipper, like the ones you find in ski jackets and such. When we returned, the ladies decided to put the industrial zipper in the dress, and the time was nearing midnight. We headed over to the neighbor's house and she spent the next hour replacing the zipper. When she was done, it was time for me to try on the dress again. Problematically, as the new zipper was put in , it appeared to take up and extra 1/4 - 1/2" of fabric. Fabric that I didn't have to lose in an already snug dress. It took two people holding the dress closed and a third person to zip it up. It was bad. I couldn't breathe. I could barely move. It was really bad. I could tell by assessing the looks the others were exchanging that they knew it was bad too.

We decided that I should probably have a plan B.

The next morning I told Marla what had happened the night before, mostly to explain why Dad was so late in getting up. She did not take the news terribly well. It was decided that I would just try and make it through the ceremony in the dress, and have another dress to change into for the reception. During pictures before the ceremony, I would simply safety pin the dress so as not to test the zipper. As I showered that morning and put on my underwear, I thought to myself, "Is this the underwear I want to be wearing before God and the Arboretum if this dress explodes off of me?"

As it turns out, the miraculous took place. After the pictures were taken, Justin zipped me up in the dress by himself, and the darn thing didn't explode. Not during the ceremony or the reception or lunch or cutting a rug. I remember at one point when I was cutting a rug with my cousins and I caught a vision of Sherry on the edge of the dance floor shaking her head in what I can only imagine was shock/awe at the miracle that the dress was still in one piece.

Most importantly, Marla was beautiful, they got married, and the wedding was lovely. That's all that matters. But I'll never forget what was most certainly the most amazing miracle at a wedding that has occurred since Jesus himself turned water into wine in Cana.

Finding a Way to Move On

2010-06-24T10:16:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was a teenager, young, naive, and idealistic, and totally unaware that I was any of those things. The world was my oyster, full of possibilities and hope for what would be and what could be. But now, as I round the bend toward the home stretch of my 20's, I find myself in some ways disillusioned about where my life is. The highlight of my adult life would have to be meeting and marrying my husband. There do not exist enough adjectives to fully describe how wonderful he is, how amazing just having him around is, and so I won't do myself the disservice of even trying. I am incredibly fortunate that he has taken care of me...through grad school, cancer, and now....whatever phase you call this. Maybe, picking up the pieces? Taking stock of my losses? Determining what next? His patience and understanding for me, almost inhuman really, overwhelms me if I think too deeply on it.

A year and a half into remission, I find myself both eternally grateful and shamefully bitter. I am so glad to be alive, but the devastation that cancer has wrought in my life sometimes doubles me over. My mother is gone, and now, it seems very possibly, the chance that I might some day be a mother, or at least naturally. The pain of that fact stabs and aches, moving over me in waves that rise and ebb but never fully subside. Just another one of those things that you never fully understand until you experience it. I know people say, you can have a family in other ways, and I resist the urge to lash out at them. Especially when the person proffering the kindly meant advice has their own biological 2.5 children.

I suppose I am grieving right now what might not be. Of course, then I have people who are prodding me, not so gently, to submit my PIF (a resume that gets you jobs in the Presbyterian church), and I just don't know how to explain to them that I am working stuff out with God right now, and I don't exactly feel authentic seeking a position being a pastor to others when there are so many answers I am seeking myself.

So, I am writing. I'm sure no one checks this blog anymore, so it just shoots out silently into cyberspace, and I'm ok with that. Mostly, I've decided to blog now as a daily exercise; a warm-up before I start my writing on my book. So if you are reading, hopefully I'll perk up a here in a few days. Tomorrow I plan to blog about Marla's wedding. It's way funnier than today....promise.

One

2010-05-17T16:12:00.000-07:00

It starts with just one cell. In every human body, there are trillions and trillions of cells, but it only takes one. One cell that for some unknown reason mutates and goes rogue. Maybe the reason is genetic, or maybe environmental. Maybe it's completely random, but regardless this cell mutates and begins to reproduce itself rapidly. Depending on the specific mutation, it can take weeks, months, or even years, for that one cell to become millions of cells. In the beginning, it goes unnoticed and in general causes no symptoms, but eventually as the millions of cell continue to rapidly multiply, eventually another cell mutates again, and begins to multiply in a completely different place in a completely different organ. Eventually, the body begins to react to these Benedict Arnold cells, which have effectively begun a war against itself. For different mutations, there are different symptoms, ranging from pain to fatigue, to physical lump, and eventually is detected.

It is cancer.

When the doctor utters those words in your presence, it's liked being socked in the gut. Your ears buzz as the doctor starts talking about treatment and prognosis, but inside you're still coming to terms with that word. Cancer. How did this happen? Why? Am I going to die. Your mind is flooded with questions, some of which perhaps the doctor is answering but you don't notice. It's hard not to feel as if your own body has betrayed you, because it has.

It is fortunate that I have been able to survive all the rounds a harsh chemotherapy that it takes if you are going to wage war against those rogue cells that, left unchecked, will eventually kill you. I survived. My mother didn't. My friend Donna didn't. Thousands of others won't this year. But as a survivor, I am left with guilt. With distrust. Will the body that betrayed me once betray me again? Have we won the war, or merely the battle? I choose to believe the latter, but deep down I can't help but remember....It starts with just one cell.

Puppy Love

2010-05-16T17:17:00.000-07:00

Ever since Justin and I moved out to California, we felt like our lives were missing something. We are, unequivocally, dog people, and we pined for a pooch, but we didn't live in a place where we could have a dog. Then, out of the blue, our landlord decided to change his "no pets" policy, and allow us to get a dog. We were ecstatic! From the beginning, we knew that we wanted to adopt a dog, so we began to search on the internet and at adoption events for our perfect pup. I had a general idea of what we were looking for. We agreed that we wanted a girl dog because, I'm sorry, but boy dogs are gross. They're always humping things and marking things.....no, I wanted a girl. Also, due to the space restrictions of living in a condo, we also decided that a small dog would be more appropriate, even though Justin was more naturally drawn to big dogs. Finally, we decided that we should adopt an older, adult dog, so that we didn't have to go through all the rigmarole or house training a puppy. And so, we searched. After a week or two, we found a little dog that seemed to meet our criteria, or at least most of them. He, that was the first criteria he didn't meet, was a small daschund/beagle mix, and he was an adult. His name was Buster, and we put in an application to adopt him, but we were rejected. They wanted him to go to a home that had other dogs. Dejected, we went home empty-handed.

Then, one day a couple of weeks later, we went to Petsmart to check out the dogs that were up for adoption, and made a pass by the different crates and enclosures, but saw nothing that particularly seemed to be the right dog for us. Except.....there was a small pen containing two black and white puppies. Of course, we didn't want a puppy, but....they sure were cute. Justin walked over to the pen, and the little white one, who had two black eyes, jumped up and began gnawing on part of the pen. Justin said to me, "What about these two?" We looked at them, and they were very cute, but they were puppies. And they were a cross between an English Bulldog and a Standard Poodle. I reminded him that we weren't going to get a puppy, and this 6 month old puppy was already 27 lbs. On the info sheet, it said that she was a boy, but a quick inspection informed us that they were incorrect. It was a girl.

To make a long story short, Justin picked up this puppy, she snarfled his face, and we applied to adopt her. The adoption people called her Oakley, because she looked like she was wearing sunglasses, but we renamed her Bailey. Bailey the Boodle, half bulldog, half poodle, only fit one or our criteria. I had to potty train her, and teach her not to eat my things. She weighs 52 lbs now that she is fully grown. But we love her. She makes my life better. I take care of her every day, taking her to the park, walking her, feeding her, and petting her. She inconveniences our lives many days, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Right now, she is lying at our feet, chewing on a rope, harassing us to take her to the dog park. And she just farted and it smells terrible. But having her around is everything we ever hoped it would be and more. She makes us smile ever day. Bailey is our puppy love.

Mother Mine

2010-05-10T15:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a day for mothers. A day when we scramble to find a way to show our mothers at least a small fraction of our love for her. For me, however, Mother's day is bittersweet, because my mother has been dead now seven years. Almost exactly seven years to be exact, because she died on May 29, 2003. That makes May a particularly emotional month for me, because it is punctuated with reminders of her absence. Part of me always wants to wallow in self pity this month, but as the years have passed, it just doesn't seem useful.

Instead, I just want to remember her better. I want to hold on to memories more than I want to hold onto my hurt and anger. So I've been thinking about some of my favorite memories. I remember how she used to make dinner every night and wait for my dad to come home. (This was in the time before cell phones were ubiquitous.) She would wait and wait and wait, and finally she would sigh with exasperation and tell us that we would go ahead and eat without him. Of course, no sooner did she issue that pronouncement, his truck would pull into the driveway.

There was the time when my sister told my mother in church, very loudly I might add, that her lipstick made her look like a floozy. This was a concept she picked up from my grandmother, who told her that she shouldn't wear bright red lipstick because it would make her look like a floozy.

And of course, there was the time when mom decided to cook a brisket overnight for the next day. Unfortunately, she turned the heat up way to high in the oven, and we all woke up in the middle of the night to screeching smoke detectors and a house filled with the stench of burning meat. By the time the brisket was removed from the oven, it resembled a charcoal briquette more than a piece of beef.

My mother was kind and funny and determined. She was brave and giving and had a great heart. I love her so much, and I still miss her, but I am determined to hold on to her memory. I am determined to remember the best of her and to apply the things she taught me to my own life. So, as I endured my own PET scan this morning for my own cancer, I tried to emulate her own grace under fire and her trust that the right thing would happen.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

What am I doing with my life?

2010-02-08T22:08:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone, and by everyone I mean the 2-3 people who still randomly check my blog to see if I have posted anything in the past year. I've been promising that I would pick up my blogging again, and so here goes. It's been an interesting time lately. A year post stem cell transplant and it would seem that I am still in remission. I am having blood work done on Thursday and meet again with my oncologist a week from Tuesday. I'd like to say that I am anxiety free and that I don't worry at all about each and every check-up, but that would be a lie. I get a little nervous. To be honest, after the death of my friend Donna whose cancer came back with a vengeance, it's hard not to be a little scared. Not to mention still somewhat down. I miss her, and I still haven't fully come to grips with the fact that I'll never joke with her or talk with her again.

These past months have been great in terms of my health, as I seem to move from strength to strength physically, and yet have been somewhat tumultuous personally and professionally. I have yet to find a ministry position, which is frustrating, and leaves me wondering what it is that God wants me to do. I don't know if I should just take any job that I can get, or if I should hold out, or if I should just focus on my writing. I have been encouraged by several people to write a book, and I have been slowly working on that. I just don't know, and I am a little confused.

So that's where I am right now. Happy to be healthy, and wallowing in confusion. More to come.

An Musing About Being A Young Cancer Survivor

2009-06-01T21:00:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning I trekked early in the morning with my husband and our trooper friends Shannon and Gabriel to the annual American Cancer Society's Relay for Life in Santa Clarita. It's an event that is held multiple times over around the country which raises money for cancer research. It is one of those few places, other than your oncologists office or an infusion room, that you encounter multiple cancer patients and survivors with multiple diagnoses. It's a 24 hour event which had people walking around a loop continuously, and the loop is lined with different booths which are raising money by selling donated products or raffling things off or selling activities, and 100% of the proceeds goes to cancer research. My cancer center, UCLA Santa Clarita, has a large team and one of the nurses invited me to come out and walk.

Up until recently, I have avoided getting heavily involved with groups and activities which raise awareness and money for cancer research. Even after my mother died, I never really got involved with anything, and that made me feel guilty. You always hear about different people whose lives are touched by cancer, and they try and make a difference by starting a charity or non-profit, or running a 5k, or so on and so forth. However, I really never felt the urge to do that. Mostly, this was a selfish decision because I was tired of thinking about cancer. I just wanted to go and live in a little bubble where I didn't have to think about the stupid disease anymore and the havoc it had wreaked upon my life. Flash forward 4+ years, and I found myself diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I had kicked around the possibility in my mind that I might have to face breast cancer one day like my mother had, but I had never dreamed that I would face cancer again at 25. It seemed like I simply could not get away, and even then I had no real urge to get involved in any organization or fund. I just wanted to get cured and put it behind me. Then I was re-diagnosed.

I have slowly come to the conclusion that I will never exactly be able to put cancer behind me. It has left an indelible mark on my life story that cannot be erased, no matter how much I shun advocacy or Grey's Anatomy. Amongst the other survivors at the Relay on Saturday there were, maybe, 10 people who were my age or younger. That's not because we're not out there, but I think it's because we're afraid. You see, when you're 45 or 55 or 65 and you get cancer, you've already lived a good portion of your life. That doesn't mean that you aren't severely impacted, it just means that you have lived and had experiences, family, and careers and cancer is another piece of your journey. As a twenty-something, when we get cancer, we fear it defining our journey. I think we avoid walks and raising money and other survivors because we just want to put cancer behind us and not let it define us. We're afraid that it will be not only the defining part of our life journey, but possibly the end.

I've decided that it will not define me, but I cannot ignore it. I have to use cancer to my advantage, to help others and to be a better person. So I'm not going to pretend I'm normal. I'm a cancer survivor....and that's ok.

Drumroll please....

2009-05-27T12:42:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my next doctor's appointment and I am extremely nervous. Of course, I'm always nervous when these things come around. On the plus side, I've been able to fend off the anxiety until the day before, which for me is a real improvement. I am hoping to show up and hear the Doctor say, "Everything looks fine," and make me an appointment for 3 months from now for my next PET scan. We've been praying about this for months, and I've been feeling really good. My energy is great and I've been working and working out. Justin and I just joined a small group last night and we are really excited about it. I've got my Final Assessment in less than 3 weeks. It seems like my life is really back on track, and that makes this appointment even more nerve-wracking. I'm just working on trust; trusting that no matter what happens that God is in control of my life. So instead of letting myself devolve into a mess of nerves, I am going to turn tomorrow over and instead work on my PIF (kind of like a resume for you non-presbyterians), and after that work out and go teach a lesson. It's cliche, but I refuse to let cancer have me. I am going to keep walking the way I am walking and trust that God will see us through this no matter what. Still, prayers are appreciated.

Ode to a cat

2009-05-15T09:44:00.000-07:00

I ask myself oh why, oh why
Does the cat so like to lie
On my stomach, legs and chest
And on my face which she likes best?
And why is it I find her hair
here and there and everywhere?
They're on my clothes, sheets and couch
and, whoops, just found one in my mouth.
I yelled at her and shook my head,
when she she used for scratching post my bed.
And I never felt such stress
As when she attacked my bridesmaid dress.
But when I think I've had enough
and cat-sitting became far too rough
The cockles of my heart she stirs
When she cuddles and when she purrs.
She killed a spider on the floor
And waits when I come in the door.
So it seems I've decided that
I kind of like the stupid cat.

Check-up creeping near

2009-05-11T16:54:00.000-07:00

I can't believe that it has almost been 3 months since the last check-up with my oncologist and that the next one is only 2 weeks away. I am trying not to get nervous. I know that I feel great. I have tons of energy and I am teaching swimming lessons. I am very hopeful that this is a sign that everything is still great. No pet scan this time, just simple blood work. So this blog will be short. I could use some extra prayers to get me through these next couple of weeks. I'm really trying to not worry about it and to give it over to God. I am just trusting that whatever happens is his will, although I will confess that I have my own wishes as to how this all turns out. In the mean time, I plan to be looking for a new dog. The owner of our condo has reversed her pet policy and allowed us to get a pet. On top of that, she's reduced our rent by $25 a month, which might cover the expense of a new dog! (Not likely) That's all for today. Not a very witty blog, but effective none the less. The next one will be better. I promise.

A time to mourn

2009-04-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

Last night, a good man passed away after a long battle with cancer. His name was Kyle and he was a manager whom Justin worked for during his time at AV. I personally didn't know Kyle terribly well; we pretty much knew each other through the word of others. I only met him once, in fact, at a company party when he was about to start up another round of treatment and I (little did I know at the time) would be soon starting up another round myself. Yet, what I did know about him compels me to give pause and space here for remembrance. It moves me to give thanks for his life. He was a man whom my husband always respected, and Justin is not always an easy man to impress. He was a man whom people trusted, who was smart and a good manager. Justin always appreciated him as a person and felt that Kyle had his best interest at heart, something not always found in business these days. He was a man who loved fast cars, both in mini-racer form and in the full-sized versions too. He was a man, though he had never met me, sent me a book about women who were fighting and surviving cancer when he found out that I had been diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. He was a man who was diagnosed with a rare cancer that is usually found only in tobacco users, of which he was not. And he fought it even when the odds were not good because, and this is only a guess, he believed that life was worth fighting for. I only knew him through his friends and co-workers, and yet I know he was a man who will be greatly missed, not only by his family but by his friends and co-workers.

I can only begin to imagine what his family are going through right now, and I know that no words will be of any comfort. Exactly a month from now marks the 6 year anniversary of my own mothers death from Breast cancer. If I allow myself, I can remember the gut wrenching, soul-shaking agony and grief of that time, and I ache for the pain his family feels right now. I know, however, that he will always be remembered in the hearts and minds of the people whom he touched, and that includes Justin and I.

I pray for him comfort and peace and that he is in the arms of the Father now, and I hope to one day see him on the other side.

A quandry and a query

2009-04-23T09:27:00.000-07:00

Per my husband's request, I am going to bring a debate here to my blog. It's a stupid debate, the kind a husband and wife get into and go to others to settle, which will inevitably leave one of us (most likely me if history is any portent) will end up being "wrong". Mind you...this is a stupid debate, but if we could get some feedback, maybe we could come to some sort of agreement.

It's about our toilet seat. (Collective groan) I know, I know, if you're married, you've probably had some form of this discussion. Here's the problem. Justin was well trained as a child growing up and he always closes the toilet seat, cover and all. This would seem like a good thing, right? Well, having lived with girls most of my life, which means that there was not a lot of manipulation of seats, I have always generally left the cover up unless we have guests. We really don't have a problem until night time when I stumble to the bathroom and, half asleep, sit down on the seat cover and come to that realization just moments before a mishap takes place.

Now, I think that it's not that big of a deal for Justin to just leave the cover up, at least at night. However, Justin thinks that how he does it is the "proper way" and, therefore, I should learn to adjust. I agree with him that generally his way is the best way and that when I am in my best conscious mind I have no problem just lifting up the cover. All I am asking for is the night time. Just leave the cover up at night. Is that so much to ask? Seriously. I'm asking all of you. Justin wanted me to take this to the blog, and so we will respect your decision. Help us.

The worst travel day EVER

2009-04-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

It's 12:39 AM and I'm in Dallas. I was supposed to be in Corpus Christi and hour and a half ago. But I'm not. Because today was the worst travel day EVER. Let me run it down for you. So. I had planned on getting up early and trying to get on standby to get to Corpus earlier, but that fell through so I went ahead and planned on taking my 1:35PM flight to Dallas. I didn't have any bags to check, so I left the house at 11:00. Plenty of time to get to LAX....unless you hit mondo traffic on the 405. Which I did. It took me and hour and a half to get to LAX. Now, I had planned on parking in the long term parking which costs 13 dollars a day, but since I was running so late I had to park in the short term parking which costs $30 a day. I rushed inside, rushed through security, breathed a sigh of relief and went to look at the board to find my gate. And I noticed that my flight was delayed to 4:35. Which meant I was going to miss my 8:05 PM connection flight to Corpus. Apparently storms shut down most of the airports in Texas for some time today. So, I went back to the car and moved it to the long term lot and took the shuttle back to the airport. I went through security (time #2) and looked at the board and saw that the flight had been pushed back to 5:35 PM. I went and stood in line for customer service (which was 80 people long) and began to wait. Then the customer service lady recommended that those of us at the back of the line might want to try the ticket counter. Since I was at the back of the line, I decided to take my chances and left the secure area and went to the ticket counter where I waited for another 30 minutes or so to talk to someone. I was slightly insulted when she asked for the next gentleman in line (me), but tried to take it in stride with the short hair and all and hoped that she had some eyesight issues. She was able to get me on a flight to Corpus Christi at 6:45 Saturday (which now is today) morning, which was great and I thanked her copiously, forgiving the fact she thought I was a dude from far away. I got back in the security line again, and was called sir by a TSA agent. That left me once again feeling far from pretty, but still I was focused on the task ahead...getting some lunch. By this time it was 2:00 and I hadn't eaten anything. I went through the metal detectors and one of the TSA guys said, "Hey, you're back." I told him that I hoped this third time would be the last, and I made my way to Chili's. At this point, I thought my day was looking up. I got a table after a short 10 minute wait, and ate myself a turkey sandwich. I tipped the waiter generously, feeling particularly gracious now that my travel troubles were sorted out.

I went to my gate, and I noticed it was pretty deserted so I figured that they had probably changed my gate. I went to look up at the board and discovered that my departure had been delayed again. To 7:35. However a flight which had been scheduled originally to leave at 3:50 and rescheduled to leave at 5:30, had remained the same. Highly annoyed, I went back to the customer service area and waited in line (with what was now becoming an angry lynch mob minus torches) for about 30 minutes until I could talk to a representative. While I was in the line, the flight was further delayed until 8:30PM, which would have meant I would have gotten to DFW at 1:30 AM, only to have to catch a flight to Corpus at 6:45 AM. When my turn with the ticket agent came around, I asked her (not expecting a good result) if I could get on the 3:50 i.e. 5:30 flight to Dallas, and by the grace of God....I did. She asked if I wanted an back of the plane aisle or window or a front of the plane middle seat, and I told her that I didn't care if I had to ride on the wing, as long as she got me on that plane. By this time, it was about 4:45, so I got my ticket with about 15 minutes to spare before they began boarding. Feeling relieved and hopeful that I was finally on the path to maybe, hopefully, on a wing and a prayer making it to the Saturday night wedding, I decided that I was going to reward myself with a Starbucks Signature hot chocolate. It's made of a blend of cocoas and skim milk and it is super yummy, and I went to the register and placed my order only to be met with the response, "Oh, um....I think we're out." At this point I laughed somewhat hysterically, told the young woman, "Don't worry...it's not you, it's me." She looked at me funny and I went to go and wait for my flight.

Finally we boarded, and I got to my middle seat. Which had a broken arm rest. As the plane was loaded, the window seat next to me was empty and I said, "To heck with this," and moved over to the window seat. To discover that it was broken and lay back on it's own. Hence, I slid back to my seat and let the standby passenger take it.

It's a small miracle that the plane didn't crash.

But here I am...and I'm hopeful that I will make it to my destination tomorrow. On the bright side, I got to spend time with my Dad. I made an awful lot of friends to day as I chit chatted with people in the 10-15 various lines I've stood in today. I didn't lose it with any American Airlines employees. In fact, the only person I really lost it with was Justin, and I've apologized. Each time I blew up. Which happened more than twice. Thank goodness he loves me (see...I told you in the last blog that it was guaranteed that you would fight). I'm a big proponent of making my misfortunes other people's giggles, so I hope you all enjoyed. And pray that Justin and I survive the rest of our travel. Corpus Christi here I come! (Maybe)

Going to the chapel

2009-04-14T10:51:00.001-07:00

On Friday, I am going to be traveling to Corpus Christi to meet up with Justin and take part in the wedding of our friends, Beau and Stacy. As someone who might be ordained in the near/distant future, I found myself thinking about what I would say to the couple if it were I who were marrying them and walking them through pre-marital counseling. What follows is the advice I would give the couple...if I left anything vital out, feel free to rectify that in the comments.

1. Be careful how you fight: As a spouse, you know every weakness, every vulnerability, every soft spot that your husband or wife has. This is not ammo in a fight. You should guard and respect that intimacy instead of using it against one another. When you fight....and you will fight, fight about the issue at hand and don't fight to get the other person back. The point of a fight is to resolve an issue, not to be right. Fight for what is in the best interest for both of you, not just for being right.

2. Live with gratitude: It's so easy to come home after a long day and be grumpy and take it out on your spouse. They are the person you can be grumpy with. Often that leads to grumbling about what the other hasn't done, or what they didn't do right that day. Instead of grumbling about what hasn't gotten done, or what wasn't done right, praise your spouse for what they do, for how they contribute. Let them know how much you appreciate all they do in your life to make it better and sweeter. Always remember to tell your spouse how much you appreciate him/her.

3. Think about him/her first: Instead on focusing on what your spouse can do for you, focus on what you can do for your spouse. This is the way to happiness. You should each serve one another, not in expectation of what you will get, but for the joy of loving your spouse and giving love to him or her. The giving yourself over to love your spouse is central to what Ephesians 5:25-33 is talking about. This world encourages you to be self-centered and self-interested above all things. If you value your marriage, I would suggest that you don't.

4. Try to understand how the female/male mind works: Your spouse does not think the way you do. They think in the manner of their gender, so don't try and force them to think like you do. Husband, when your wife comes to you complaining or crying about something in her life, she is not looking for you to fix it. She wants a sympathetic ear, open arms to hold her, and reassurance that she is safe and loved. Wife, when your husband tells you something, take it at face value. Don't infer a bunch of subtext into what he is saying. Generally, men are extremely straightforward. They generally say what they mean and mean what they say....no hidden meaning. Don't look for something that isn't there.

5. Find a church and worship together: God has brought the two of you together and you will make vows to each other before Him and all your family and friends. Putting God in the center of your relationship doesn't ensure that you won't go through storms in life. In fact, I can guarantee that you will. However, when God is in the center of your life and relationship, it gives you something to hold on to in the storm, a place to find calm and peace. Otherwise, the storm can and often will tear you apart. Worship together, pray together. That will do you more good in your relationship than a thousand self help books or special dates.

I'm sure that there are many more things I could tell you, but these are pretty big. They won't ensure a perfect marriage, but I know they help me to feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I look at my husband sometimes and I am overwhelmed with deep and amazing love. I know in my heart that God brought us together. He is my soul mate, and I adore him. I pray that after you have been married for years, you will feel the same.

Never say never

2009-04-06T17:30:00.000-07:00

Never say never. I'm going to make that a slogan of mine, because the sooner I say I am not going to do something, the sooner it happens that I end up doing it. I promised myself after I finished teaching swimming lessons for a church internship that I would never teach them again. Not because I didn't like doing it, but because I was going to go on to having a career. Flash forward 3 years, and here I am sans job in a terrible economy with few jobs to be had, and my health doing quite well. I need some form of gainful employment, even if it is merely summer work. So, today I went to my old boss and asked if she would be interested in hiring me back for the summer. To my delight, and apparently hers too, she is in dire need for a swimming instructor in my very area. So it looks like I will soon have some form of gainful employment for the first time in almost 2 years. To be honest, although I would rather have a church job of some sort, this will be much better than working at, say, Starbucks, and will pay much better too. Plus, since I have some track record with my employer, I know that she will work with me on my schedule and be relatively flexible with me.

Overall, I think it will be good for everyone. Justin is probably crying for joy right now at the thought of a second income, no matter how temporary that might be. The other upside is that my employer also runs a tutoring business in conjunction with the swimming, so when the major swimming season is over, I might be able to stay on and do some tutoring jobs. So....go team McAllister!

Can tomatoes be willfully obstinate?

2009-04-01T16:25:00.000-07:00

Today, I don't have any particularly profound thing to say today....just a couple of random thoughts.

To begin, I was wondering today if tomatoes can be willfully obstinate. The thing is, Justin and I have some stubborn tomatoes on our upper balcony. These tomatoes tend to do poorly when we are paying attention to them, and then they begin to thrive again when we ignore them. It has been months.....MONTHS....since those stupid things have gotten any attention. We've had near freezing nights at times. We've neither watered nor fertilized them. Yet, when I went upstairs to close the balcony door I discovered a live plant which was sporting no less than 5 tomatoes on it. Here's the thing. If the plant would just die, we could throw it out and start again, but if it holds on and keeps itself alive....well then we feel obligated to keep it. So there it lives, going on two years now.

I have to kidnap Justin early from work today to get some errands done. I am able to get most things done in day, but I can't get Justin's haircut for him, neither get fitted for his tux. Hence, the kidnapping.

Otherwise, I've had a very productive day. I cleaned off our downstairs balcony. You see, in an ironic twist, although I live in California, my condo complex does not have a recycling program. However, I try my best to be environmentally friendly in the ways that I can, so I collect my bottles and cans and I make a point to take them to the recycling place. Most of the time when I get a full bucket of recyclables I take them to the recycling center, but I haven't done that for over 3 months, and so today I had to pay the piper. I spent 30 minutes sorting the aluminum from the glass and bottles so that I could get my money back. I made $10.30! Of course, then I remembered that I am not really making money, but getting money refunded that I've already paid. I also used my cloth grocery bags. I try to do my part.

Anyways, those are my thought for today. Breathtaking, aren't they?

Should have invested in Kleenex stock

2009-03-25T13:47:00.000-07:00

I am very happy to report that I had a wonderful trip to Texas and I was a little sad to have to return to Los Angeles, but I was glad to see Justin again. If the title of this blog didn't tip you off, I'm sick. I either caught a cold from either my sister or my husband, and the two of them have been pointing their fingers at the other one. Although, I'm pretty sure it's just a cold, after my flem turned colors I decided to go to the doctor. It's probably a good thing, because my doctor informed me that people who have just finished chemo treatments have a tendency to develop bronchitis/pneumonia faster. But I'm being aggressively treated for this gunk now, so hopefully improvement is imminent. It's definitely put a cramp in my style, though. I have spent the past three days alternating between the couch and the bed. I need to get out and get some stuff done, but I just don't feel like it.

Meanwhile, I've been spending some time pondering my own character. Have you ever acted in a way which did not flatter you? You know, those times when because of stress or exhaustion or some other extenuating circumstances leads you to act like a jerk or an idiot or a meanie. I had one of those moments last week where I acted like a jerk/brat, and I wasn't particularly proud of it. I know that I am better than that, and I hate the pain that gets caused in those particular moments. The only thing I know to do when those moments occur is to repent quickly and profusely. Ideally, those moments would never happen.

I am beginning to look for jobs and for volunteer positions, but I happen to be unemployed at a particularly difficult time. However, I think these things will turn out as they should. I am optimistic that the next time I blog, I will be less flemmy. Here's hoping.

Bittersweet leaving

2009-03-17T20:50:00.000-07:00

My visit to Texas is slowly winding down, and I get on a plane back to Los Angeles tomorrow evening. It is a bittersweet parting from the lone star state. I miss my husband very much, but I will really miss all my family and my friends here. I manage most days back in SoCal to no think too much about how much I miss home. As I get older, my sentimentality for home grows. It's less about the particular place and more about the people. When I was younger, I never could envision moving away from home and even now I have to wrestle with the ramifications of that decision. But what's done is done, and at least I have several other trips to look forward to this year.

The wedding was great. We had a good time, and I even think that we were a little bit of help at the rehearsal dinner. It felt great to be able to help my aunt and uncle out, mostly because I remember how stressful my own wedding was. If it made their day a little easier and a little nicer, then it was a success. Carter and Kathleen are now honeymooning, and I think that they will have a lovely life together. I'm glad I got to be a witness to their nuptials.
On top of the wedding, I also got to participate a little bit in the Oak Cliff Great Banquet Men's weekend. I got to serve breakfast one morning and I got to go to closing, so that was awesome. I never get to go to any of the banquet community events unless I'm in town to work on a weekend, so that makes me super happy.

Dad's radiation is going well so far. He is already experiencing some change in his tastes which has resulted correspondingly to nausea. We are pretty sure that it's going to get tougher as the weeks go on, but I keep reminding him that this too shall pass. He's worried about business too. The economy has been hitting his business hard, as it has for many in construction and other small business owners. If you do live in Dallas and you need any work done or know of anyone who needs work done, be sure and check out his website. It is www.mcclungconstruction.net and it is a fabulous website if you are looking for someone to help with your home improvement projects. I just keep hoping and praying that business will pick up. It's just so stressful for him, and to have that in conjunction with the radiation is a lot of pressure. So keep him in your prayers also. I suppose there are many of us around who could use those prayers.

So, if I missed you in the Big D this time around, keep looking out for me. I'll be back in Dallas soon enough. If I did see you, I'm sure we had a great time. And if you're in Cali....watch out. I'm coming home.

What is normal?

2009-03-10T12:12:00.000-07:00

The after glow of my scan results haven't quite worn off yet, but I begin to turn my mind to thoughts of, "Now what?" This has been an odyssey of doctors appointments and treatments, and now I have to think about what it means to be normal. If there really is a normal. Perhaps it's more accurate to say that it's time to think about living life after cancer. Luckily, I am blessed with the time to figure all of this out. At least until Justin kicks me out. Hopefully if I keep him happy he'll keep me around. He takes such good care of me. He's a model husband, and I'm blessed that to be married to him.

Tomorrow I head out to Dallas. There are so many things to do when I'm there and so many people to see. I haven't been home since a whirlwind trip in early September. My cousin Carter is getting married and I get to be there. I feel bad because I make it back to some events and not to others, and it's not like I'm cherry-picking which family events I'm going to attend or anything. Sometimes its easier and more affordable to get home than others. So I'll be at Carter and Kathleen's wedding. As I begin to tiptoe my way along the road of after-cancer, I'll keep you updated. Hopefully it is a long road.

Sigh of relief

2009-03-05T16:57:00.000-08:00

Thank you, Jesus! We are still in remission. My doctor is optimistic that this might be it, and we can start counting down scans until we can use the word cure. I am so very thankful for this, for prayers and comfort, love and support. I managed not to throw up all over myself in the waiting room as I waited for my appointment earlier, and luckily I only shed a few tears. It's funny, I knew that this time was different, but all the old fears and demons kept pulling at me. Clay is right. You have to have your sure footing before the storm hits, because you're up a creek with a paddle if you don't.

I wish I had more eloquent things to say, but I really feel exhausted emotionally. I'll blog more later.

Don't Panic

2009-03-03T13:35:00.000-08:00

That's what I keep repeating to myself in a mantra. Don't panic. It's always harder the closer we get to the day. Justin's going out of town tomorrow, and I want to be upbeat for him, but I'm terrified. It's hard to concentrate, hard to get anything done. Justin keeps pressing me to call my doctor's office and ask that they call me when they get the results in. However, I think I'm just going to wait until Thursday. Sure, I know it's not completely rational, but neither am I at the moment. I am desperate for these results to be good for a variety of reasons. The first, and most important, is that I want to live. I want to be through with this drama and to move on to the next drama of life. I want to remove this stress from my life and the lives of the ones I love. I am tired of being sick, tired of being out of a job. My dad's birthday is on the 7th, and I want to be able to give him good news for his birthday, especially since he's having to start his own radiation that week. I could go on and on.

I just keep praying for God to give me the strength to handle whatever comes and to have peace with that. It is hard though. We'll see.

Standing tall

2009-02-27T10:09:00.000-08:00

I just got home a couple of minutes ago from my latest PET scan, and I can give people this advice. If you're ever going to have one, go sleepy. If you're lucky, like I was today, you'll be able to doze off during the scan and that makes it go much faster. Before I dozed off, I mused about the similarities between the scanner tube and the beginning of the Space Mountain ride. If you've never ridden space mountain, the roller coaster begins by ascending up the tracks through a tube illuminated by lights that circle the circumference of the tube. It's supposed to make you feel like you are being warped into space and it is frankly quite fun. So too does the scanner have a tube and spinning lights...but if you look into the light of the laser it will burn your retina, so that is highly not recommended. In other words, if you have a choice between the two, choose Space Mountain.

I titled the blog "Standing Tall," because my urge was to really name it "Fetal Position." My natural human inclination would be to curl up in a fetal position out of fear of my scan results. I know that there are better odds that it is going to be ok, but I am scared. I am trying not to panic. I just kept praying the whole time I was laying there waiting for my scan as the radioactive sugar ran through my veins. It's done though. Afterward I broke my fast at Panera, looking like a refugee. I was basically wearing PJ's and a skull cap, and it drew a little attention from the retired breakfasters that inhabit Panera at 9AM. The stares sometimes bother me, but to tell the truth I felt like a refugee. I felt like a refugee of the cancer war....bruised, scarred, but not broken. Walking through the restaurant, it's hard to relate to the people nonchalantly eating their bagels while I am erstwhile wondering whether the test I just took will tell us that I am cancerous or cancer free. It's one of those moments when I feel very isolated.

It probably didn't help that I stayed up last night and watched an episode of "Private Practice," in which one of the main story lines was about a girl who was dying of non-hodgkins lymphoma. I kept telling myself, that has nothing to do with you. You have hodgkin's lymphoma. You have good odds. You are going to survive this thing. But still, I would be a liar if I didn't say I was afraid.

Life is often about choices, and so today I will choose not to curl up in a fetal position, but instead will stand tall and live my life as if everything is going to be fine. I've got things to do, and a life to lead. While I don't know, I will assume the best. And that's all I have to say about that.

Resolve

2009-02-25T22:20:00.000-08:00

As Lent began today on Ash Wednesday, which just happened to also be Justin's birthday I found myself contemplating my life. It's understandable, what with blood work tomorrow and PET scan on Friday. But after doing our devotional today, I decided that much of the time I've been spending lately on introspection and worry has been in many ways hindering my relationship with God. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against one being self-aware but there can come a point when it simply becomes indulgent. You can contemplate and fret and worry about your life and it's meaning and your hopes and fears to some extent, but at some point it becomes idolatry. It becomes a distraction from turning one's eyes, heart and mind to God. So I am giving it up. I am turning all of this over to God's hands, (in my human arrogance I sometimes forget that it was already there), and am turning my brain off.

I hate to announce my instinct with this whole thing, mostly because I hate looking the fool. My instinct, my gut feeling, is that this scan will be clear. But, if I say that out loud and I turn out to be wrong, I look like an idiot. But again, in the spirit of the Lenten season, which moves towards renewal and resurrection, I am casting off my pride and fear of foolishness. I think that I am going to be ok. There. I said it. And I suppose that one way or another I will be.

So, again, I will simply solicit your prayers. I will be in the scanner around 9 AM Pacific time (11 central), so if you've got some time on Friday, pray for me.

Crunch time

2009-02-22T21:50:00.000-08:00

I have been contemplating the ramifications of exposing myself on my blog and on websites such as facebook. Yes, I do have a facebook account against all my better inclinations. Recently, Justin and I were looking up some old friends, and it's amazing how easy it is to find people with a simple google. Of course, I am not arrogant enough to think that people google me on any frequent basis, and I suppose it should not matter if they do. Yet the lack of anonymity one could once enjoy has gone out the window. Fortunately I have found, upon self examination, that there is nothing on any of my sites that would cause me any chagrin, even the the examiner was, say, a future employer. So I will continue to tread carefully.

I haven't blogged much lately because there is little to blog so far. I would appear to be a poster child for recovery from stem cell transplant. However, more interesting days a comin', in the form of a new PET scan. I have blood work on Thursday and the scan on Friday. Then there is a doctor's office coming later on the 5th. Since my Dad's birthday is on the 7th (as well as Justin's dad's b-day on the 6th) I am sincerely hoping to deliver good news. I hesitate to say this....because I do not want to instill false confidence...but I just feel like this is going to be okay. I honestly don't know what i would do if it wasn't. However, I am determined not to have a panic attack as the days draw nearer. To tell the truth, I'll really be crazy come next Wednesday. That would be about the time when Dr. Black will be getting the report. Every time I go and see the doctor, my blood pressure goes through the roof. I have a bad case of "white coat syndrome". If you check my blood pressure at any other point, it is well into the healthy range.

I know that I haven't really given much of an update about my dad. He's going to have to do radiation, and he's not thrilled about it. The radiation, however, will probably guarantee that the cancer won't come back, so that is really good news.

I know I use the phrase "I hope" a lot, but I hope that I am clean...healthy. But I'll never be normal....how I was before. But I think I might be better.

Little sprouts

2009-02-09T18:32:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you know what you know, but you don't know it, you know?

I knew my hair would eventually grow back, but I've been sporting the peach fuzz with no sprouts. I began to think to myself, what if it never grows back? What if I'm bald forever. Pro: no more shaving my legs. Con: Little children staring at me when I'm in public. Pro: Low maintenance. Con: Poor temperature regulation. I decided within myself that I would take the hairless state rather than a cancerous one.

However, my fears were not founded because I have discovered little bumps on my head. I am sprouting new fair. Right now, it is just potential, but it is potential nonetheless.

It may not seems like much, but sometimes not much is quite something. Depending on where you are.

Resisting the urge

2009-02-06T14:09:00.000-08:00

I can feel my psyche leaning towards anxiety and fear; yet I am resisting the urge to give into. I scheduled my first follow up pet scan today for later this month (it's sad when the guy recognizes you when you call), and even thought it is 3 months away I find it difficult not to fixate on it. It's amazing how hyper-aware you become of your body after this kind of ordeal. Every twitch, every ache makes you wonder and can send a little shiver of terror down your spine. Whereas two years ago I had managed to ignore a whole year of back pain without thinking cancer. Diligently I work at the little daily tasks I am responsible for, reminding myself to enjoy now rather than worry about tomorrow. As for my health, I have more energy than ever. I feel great, I exercise, I can do almost anything that I want to do.

As for my dad, he seems to be doing well. He is feeling much better and is waiting for his appointment with the radiological oncologist. Since his lymph nodes were clear, I am really hopeful that the surgeon managed to get the entire tumor out, and that the cancer was contained. It looks relatively good so far, but my family has learned how not to count their chickens before they are hatched. In general, I try to be a realist tinged with optimism.

Speaking of being a realist tinged with optimism, I am hoping that I will be able to make it to my cousin's wedding in March. However, we are waiting for my next doctor's appointment to make that decision. We kind of got burned on buying plane tickets too early when we were unable to use our tickets to go home over Christmas.
I would really like to get to go.
And that reminds me, my uncle has been working really hard on a new website for their business. My dad finally relented and agreed that they probably ought to be out there in cyberspace. You should really check it out. mcclungconstruction.net It's a really good site, chock full of really interesting information. Anyways, feel free to peruse it.

An update

2009-02-01T00:32:00.000-08:00

As they say, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition...and so we don't. Unfortunately, contrary to the surgeons first assumptions, my dad's biopsy turned out to be malignant. It is cancer. Fortunately, it's a very rare but very slow growing cancer and we are hopeful both that the surgeon managed to get it all and that it hasn't metastasized. The lymph nodes were clear which leads us to be hopeful. Of course, this wasn't the news that we were looking for. I actually have permission to blog this from dad himself, although he did make the request that I don't solicit people to bug him like last time. I told him that I would consider the request.

Truth be told, this news made me tired. Tired of sickness and sadness. However, I suppose it's prudent to always look on the bright side of life. (No, there wasn't a Monty Python marathon on BBC America this weekend. Sometimes it just creeps into the vernacular... I'm a lumberjack and all that jazz.) I am resolved to keep going, hoping, praying, and trusting that all of this will work out according to God's plans.

On a lighter and happier note, I have made contact with the National Marrow Donor Program, and hope to be soon working with them to help with recruitment drives. The guy even suggested that there might be speaking opportunities for someone like me, especially to churches, which is right up my alley. I am really hopeful that I can spend some of my down time helping recruit more donors. The recovery for bone marrow transplant recipients is really long and tough, and it just seems to me that they have enough to get on with in recovering without having to deal with great stress and anxiety waiting for a donor. And so I recruit. The guy I talked to was a non-hodgkins lymphoma survivor who had a transplant 8 years ago. I guess that once you go through something like this, it's hard not to want to help others get through it.

And so ends this blog. There could be better news...but there could be worse. So I think I'll be grateful for what we have.

Dad's Surgery

2009-01-23T09:15:00.000-08:00

Good news so far! Dad's out of surgery and in recovery even as I type. The doctor said that there doesn't appear to be any nerve damage, and that they think the tumor is benign. Of course, they still have to send it to pathology, but from my experience the doctors are pretty good about that sort of thing. Now we are just waiting for him to get lucid enough to take home, or rather for Marla to take home. There is something I need your help with, especially those of you who know my father personally. Word on the street is that he is planning on going to work on Monday against medical advice. You know, everyone goes back to do physical labor 3 days after having a 4 hour surgery where a doctor hacks into your neck. I am encouraging anyone who knows him to give him a call or email and encourage him to take it easy. He loves barrages of people telling him what to do. Basically he's now my hostage. I will tell people to stop bugging him, as soon as he agrees to take it easy.

As for me, I had a doctor's appointment yesterday. My doctor has said that he's never seen anyone do better after a autologous stem cell transplant than me. I am way ahead of the curve, almost ridiculously so. He said that I've been a trooper, especially considering all the high dose chemo I've gotten. It's difficult and near impossible to explain to a doctor that you are pretty sure that you have had nothing to do with it, and that divine intervention probably played a much bigger role.

The last couple of weeks have been particularly difficult for me emotionally. Even in the midst of getting better, I have been trying to mentally prepare myself for getting sick again. But, as a quasi-wise man told me, there is no preparing for it, so I might as well let it go. It's hard for even me to keep out all hope as the world around me seems to be basking in new life. All of our rain here in SoCal has turned everything green. Everything I encountered yesterday seemed to be encouraging me to be optimistic. My doctor was very optimistic. I received a little sign in the mail from my aunt that said, "Good things are going to happen." So, against my human nature and all the pessimistic bones in my body, I've decided to give up preparing for the worst. I'm going to live in today and enjoy all the good things that are in it. And if the worst happens....at least I had a couple of really happy months. But today is really good.

Now what?

2009-01-15T10:02:00.001-08:00

I know that I haven't been blogging much lately, and as my Dad reminds me, when people have no news they assume the worst. However, that is far from the case right now. I am recovering remarkably fast, and have had most of my restrictions lifted. I had a doctor's appointment on Tuesday where she effectively told me that my counts were good enough that she didn't need to see me anymore and she booted me back to my regular oncologist. Dr. Pinter-Brown also told me I didn't need to be watched 24/7 and that I could drive. Other than that, I can't eat sushi or SoupPlantation, and I really shouldn't be in crowds or around sick people. My energy level is already probably 60% of normal, and I had my Groshang catheter removed on Tuesday which allowed for me to have the first shower I've had in over a month.

Now, it's just a waiting game. I will have a follow up pet scan in 2 months to see if the cancer is still gone. I asked the doctor what my odds were, and she said that I have 50%, maybe a little higher, odds that I will be cured. Part of the reason I don't blog is because I am afraid that I'll just end up vomiting emotional crazy all over the computer screen. I work hard to keep the worry and fear at bay all day long. I try not to let my fear of what may be consume me. It's so hard at times to relate to my friends and family because they are just getting on with their lives, and I sometimes feel that I am in a never-ending purgatory. Of course, then I feel guilty for not trusting enough and not having enough faith to trust that whatever happens, God is in control. At the moment, it is much harder living in my head than it is living in my body. It's such a feeling of helpless desperation. In my head, I constantly think of the story in Mark of the bleeding woman who just desperately tries to touch Jesus' robes, and I understand her.

On top of this, my dad is having surgery next Friday and I can't be there for him. He has a mass growing in his neck, which is most likely a gland that is growing as a tumor. The better odds are that it's benign, but there is still a chance it could be malignant. They won't know until Friday. And there are risks of the surgery because of where it is, and I am stuck here convalescing in California. I'll probably get in trouble for blogging about this, but I am so very worried. People keep telling me to stop worrying and to concentrate on my own recovery, but that's plausible as stopping breathing. Hopefully, those of you who are in Dallas can pick up the slack and be sure and check on him. Be sure and bug him a lot. He loves that.

Anyways, I need to go and run some errands. It breaks up the monotony of the day. I've been out of the hospital a week, and Justin is already assigning me task lists.

Just keep praying for us.

Blog Reclaimed

2009-01-09T21:29:00.000-08:00

If I must say so myself, Justin isn't half bad at the blogging gig, even if he is a bit reticent. I'm back! Did you miss me? There is so much to say about this whole process, both good things and bad, but overall I have made the start of a very quick recovery. In fact, multiple nurses and doctors who saw me the last few days have commented about how I shouldn't feel as good as I do right now. In your face, modern medicine. Seriously, though, the road is still long and arduous. I am suffering from fatigue, which is extremely annoying. I can do a lot more than most people in my condition but it is far below my normal standard. To add insult to injury, after three weeks of eating roughly 600-800 calories a day, I only lost 6 lbs while in the hospital. Typical transplant weight loss was one of the few silver linings of this whole ordeal, but alas, in true Katie fashion I have bucked the trend. The other negative is that my taste buds have been effected, effectively being muted. Everything just tastes kind of bland, which on the upside might lead to more post-transplant weight loss. A girl can dream.

I want to thank all of you for your thoughts and prayers over the past few weeks. All kidding aside, the emotional, physical, and spiritual drain of this whole process is staggering. I am so very sick and tired of being sick and tired. But this too shall pass. Being home is the best. There is nothing better than being able to sleep the whole night unmolested by nurses. Even Justin is better than that. And it is very lovely not to have to deposit all my bodily waste into plastic basins. It is stupendous not to be hooked up to an iv.

One thing that it has awakened in me, however, is a real need to campaign for people to register to be bone marrow donors. I was very fortunate to be in a position where I could donate to myself my own stem cells for transplant, but there are many others who aren't that fortunate. As I write today, a lovely lady named Susan sits in an O.C. hospital waiting for a bone marrow transplant. She is in her early 30's and was just recently diagnosed with leukemia. Her best chance to beat this thing is to get a bone marrow transplant, but the fact is that the registry is relatively small because many people are either afraid of or unaware of how to become donors. To be in the database simply requires one to give a blood sample or a swab of your cheek. It doesn't require any bone marrow up front. I know that many of you have read about my unpleasant experiences with bone marrow samples, but it's different if you are a donor. According to the National Marrow Donor Program, "Bone marrow donation is a surgical procedure. While you receive anesthesia, doctors use special, hollow needles to withdraw liquid marrow from the back of your pelvic bones." So, when you donate you are asleep the whole time, and for a little while afterward, you are a little sore. Donating stem cells is even easier.

It's so easy to give someone else the gift of life, and I hope some of you might think of getting registered. It's easy to do; just go on the National Marrow Donor Program website, www.marrow.org. Thanks for sticking with me the past couple of weeks. I hope that the good news keeps on rolling.

Katie's Home!

2009-01-09T13:38:00.000-08:00

About noon on Tuesday, Katie woke up from a nap and her mouth and throat felt fine. Wednesday her counts were up to 0.8 (from a low of 0.13), and this morning the White Cell Count was over 2.0! The ANC was up to 1.2, so after some consultation with the team of doctors and Katie dancing a jig as we walked around the floor that morning, they decided she was well enough to send home.

Some other good news: we found out during the discharge training today that Katie is no longer on a strict low-bacteria diet. We had thought this would be something she would have to keep to for 3-6 months, but in fact the list of things she can't eat is limited to raw meat and C grade restaurants. This is all very good news.

I started this post on Thursday while Katie was sitting in traffic on her way from the Hospital, and stopped when I realized I might upset her by spilling the good news myself. But, after 2 days of begging her to post, here we are. So I think I'll acquire this blog for my own use until a time at which she decides to reclaim it. We can all think of the good reasons she hasn't posted - relearning her way around our 700 square feet after a long hiatus, learning to walk to the Kitchen for food instead of calling for room service (or hypothetically having someone call room service for her), all of these can be daunting tasks for someone in her (ahem) fragile condition. Maybe tomorrow we'll work on her relearning where the computer is and you'll possibly get an update from the source.

All jokes aside, she's doing great and feeling better each day. Some have asked whether the procedure was a success; we won't know the true results for many months to come, but we do know that it went about as well as possible, so we're trusting that the cancer is completely gone. Continuing prayers in this direction are always appreciated.

Slow and Steady

2009-01-05T11:50:00.000-08:00

Hi folks, Justin here. I'm sure my post won't be nearly as entertaining or inspirational as Katie's, but I thought people might like an update.

Katie's finally been feeling the full effects of the last chemotherapy over the past few days so she hasn't felt like doing much. Post chemo, she had a successful stem cell transplant on December 30, and has been recovering since. Her blood counts had a slight recovery after the transplant, but have dropped considerably since (as expected) and are now all but zero. A normal person has 5-10 billion white blood cells per liter of their blood, right now Katie has a measly 130 million. Of course the red blood cells and platelets are taking their toll too, so she's had to have a transfusion or two to keep those values to a reasonable level. This condition is likely to last anywhere from 5-10 days, at which point the counts will start to increase as her body starts to make cells once again.

Right now, the biggest issue Katie's facing are some mouth and throat sores that are making it difficult to eat or talk, and generally making her pretty uncomfortable. She's been given some medication to help out, but if you've called her and she hasn't answered it's because it's really painful to talk. I mean, we all know she likes to screen our calls, but this time she has a pretty good excuse. Over the next week or so the doctors and nurses will be watching her very closely for any signs of illness or infection as she basically has no immune system and is very susceptible during this time. They expect that she'll get at least one infection, but that's why she's there.

A number of people have asked if there's anything they can send or do. Right now we just need your prayers. Katie has a good arsenal of books and satellite TV, which is about all she feels like doing right now when she is awake. If you call, understand that we may not answer. Feel free to send emails, but know that she's only checking sporadically as she feels well enough. Right now she just wants to get through this and get on to the recovery stage at home. The timing is pretty up in the air right now and depends on how fast the counts recover (as with everything in this process, there's no room for planning), but we're hoping she can come home sometime next week. Thanks for all of your prayers.

A new day

2008-12-31T15:40:00.001-08:00

There are two particularly frustrating scenarios to face when one is writing: the first is when you can think of nothing to say, and the second is when there are so many thoughts in your head that it seems impossible to put them all into some kind of coherent order.

I suppose I should catch people up with what's going on. I had the stem cell transplant yesterday, and it came off without a hitch. Other than having little to no appetite, things are going really well. I am sailing through so far. Of course, there are harder days to come when my counts completely tank. I'm really hoping that they will be able to release me by next Friday, or Monday the 12th at the latest. Still, it feels really far away. I am really really tired of being here.

I wish I had more to tell you, but so far it has been pretty boring. Please keep praying for me and my family. We need it more than I can say.

Day 5, 673,999

2008-12-26T18:54:00.000-08:00

Ok, so that tittle isn't exactly accurate, but that's how it feels to me. I am going to stay positive in this blog, but if I were to complain I would say the following things:

1. Low-bacteria hospital food stinks
2. It stinks being woken up every 3 hours for vitals
3. Peeing in a basin isn't as easy as it looks.
4. Hospital beds aren't terribly comfortable.
5. I hate wearing a face mask every time I leave my room.

But I am not going to complain. In fact, I actually am doing really well so far, praise God. It's nice not to feel too bad yet. I know the worst is to come, but at least it isn't here yet. I feel bad for Justin and Beverly who don't have too much to do when they are up at the hospital. When I feel decent, I am pretty self-sufficient. However, I have the feeling that their day is coming soon.

I hope each and every one of you had a blessed Christmas.

I wish

2008-12-23T14:26:00.000-08:00

The first chemo has come and gone, and it turns out that I am handling it pretty well. I don't have any nausea and I'm just a little tired from my night. Everyone always says that the hospital is the worst place to get rest, and it turns out that they were right. I got about six hours sleep last night once everything was said and done. Probably the most interesting/funny part was when the tech came in to weigh me. At the time, I was on the laptop and the gentleman asked me if the laptop was heavy. I responded that it weighed 5 lbs or so, and he thought it wouldn't be a big deal, so he pressed the button on the bed to check my weight. I'm not going to tell you how much I weigh, but suffice it to say that the weight he called out was about 60 lbs lower than my accurate weight. I told him that it wasn't correct, and he asked if it was off by those 5 lbs or so. I informed him that it was closer to 60 lbs off, and he wasn't convinced, so he brought in another scale that eventually gave him my real weight.

Everything is just plugging along. I'm waiting for news on various friends and family who are either in the hospital or having surgery, and hopefully we'll know soon how each of them are doing. So, officially I have accomplished day 2 of 21.
19 more to go.

Day -7

2008-12-22T18:56:00.000-08:00

According to the hospital folk, this is Day -7 of my stay. The stem cell transplant day is the official Day 1. It's been a very uneventful day mostly, because I didn't start the chemo today. I'm here in the new hospital, the Ronald Reagan Medical Center, which has only been open since August and it's super nice. The room I'm in is very nice, with a reclining chair and a couch which pulls out into a bed. There's lots of storage and all my favorite cable channels. The staff has been very attentive so far, and the low-bacteria menu isn't too bad. The best part is that the room doesn't smell too hospitally.

Tomorrow begins the chemo, as well as lots of pills and other medical stuff. I felt very bad for my mother-in-law because it was so boring today, but I guess that ultimately, it's better when a hospital stay is boring.

In another note, I wanted to ask for prayers for my friend Nell, who is 16 and going in for a brain surgery tomorrow. We're praying that she comes through it with no complications.

Got to go now....time for them to take vitals.
Otherwise, it's all quied

This is it

2008-12-21T22:02:00.000-08:00

As I sit here roughly twelve hours before I am admitted to the hospital, I am starting to get a little antsy. It's the same way anyone would feel before embarking on one of life's great journeys, although except for college, most people's great life experiences don't quite involve so many drugs. I am so grateful for this opportunity at a shot at a cancer free life, but it's hard to mentally prepare myself for the adverse side effects that I will experience over the next few months. I promise that I will do my best to keep everyone up to date on the day to day hospital excitement. I will undoubtedly have some stories. In return, all of you can try and have a lovely fun Christmas with your families and friends. I would appreciate everyone continuing to keep me in prayer, as well as my family...especially my Dad. We could use all the prayer we can get right now.

Thankfully, my mother-in-law Beverly is here for the next two weeks, thanks to the sacrifice of Bobby(my father-in-law). He's holding down the fort for a while so that Bev could come and take care of us, and goodness knows we need it. At least this way I know that Justin will eat something decent from time to time. Honestly, it almost feels as if I am turning myself over to be incarcerated. I mean, I am going to be living in a little room which I can't leave, and people I don't know are responsible for my entire life. Hopefully the food will be slightly better than hospital food. For those of you who have my cell number, I will have it with me. In the case that I have bad cell reception, I will probably post my hospital room number.

So, here's to my first (and hopefully last) hospital stay. May it be as brief and yet as successful as possible, with as little hiccups along the way as possible.

See you on the flip side.

Packing for the weirdest vacation ever

2008-12-15T17:02:00.000-08:00

Now that the dust of has settled on the news of the stem cell transplant, it's time to get ready for the next 2 months. It's like packing for the weirdest vacation ever, where you only need pajamas and things which don't contain any bacteria. Plus, we have to get the upstairs ready for the stream of caretakers who are going to be staying with us over the following weeks. But everything is being done with great thanksgiving. I keep telling people that this stem cell transplant is my Christmas present, and they typically respond with pity. However, I mean it with sincere joy that I get a transplant for Christmas. It's kind of ironic that it is taking place during this particular season when we celebrate Christ's birth because some people consider the date of their transplant their second birthday. It's the start of their new life.

So although it makes me sad that I won't be with my family and friends for Christmas, in some ways this transplant makes this advent season so memorable and special.

Finally, I feel the need to publicly acknowledge a couple of people. I generally don't do this because if had to list all the people I am thankful for I could go on forever. However, these warrant some special notice. I posted several weeks ago about how we had an exceptionally large co-pay to make for some drugs that I needed. When I wrote about it my purpose was to let people know what was going on, never to solicit financial aid. There were some people who took it upon themselves to try and help us out with our expenses and they sent us money. Although we never asked for it, we were overwhelmed with gratitude for their generosity. I don't want to write their names, because I don't want to upset them...but you know who you are and the thank you notes are in the mail. I just can't tell you what a help it was. It ratchets down the stress on an immensely stressful situation, and we will never be able to thank you enough. (This is not a solicitation for more funds.)

Of course, there have been all of you who have sent a card or a book or a hat, and those who have cooked us a meal and bought us tequila. (For Justin, not me.) Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I could never really express to you how much each one means to us.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-12-11T19:11:00.000-08:00

I am to excited to think of a coherent title to this blog. That's because I just got the call from my transplant coordinator. Our prayers have been answered!!! My cytogenetics game back completely normal...no wonky cells! That means the stem cell transplant is back on! We learned in English class that we should diversify our punctuation in a paragraph, but forget it! I'm too excited! Yippee!!

Good Day

2008-12-10T18:34:00.000-08:00

This has been a great day today. To begin, they got all of the stem cells they needed from me yesterday, so I didn't have to do any more harvesting today. That meant that they were able to remove both my picc line and the despised groin catheter. They placed my chest catheter, which isn't too bad. It's on the same side as my port was, and the doctor placed it around the old scar, so it reduces the number of scars I will have. It went really well and I didn't have any complications from the anesthesia.

On top of that, I have a friend who was having a hysterectomy today because they thought she had tumors on her ovaries, but after they did the procedure they discovered that the growths weren't malignant. It's the best news. I am so happy, I just can't even tell you. We have been praying so much for her, and this is such an answer to prayer.

It's been a smooth, nice day with good news all around. I still don't know about the stem cell transplant being a go or not, but I am enjoying the good days when they come.

Hope I have more good news to give you soon!

Howdy, Hermaphrodite!

2008-12-09T15:45:00.000-08:00

Now, if that title doesn't draw you in, nothing ever will. We'll get to that in a minute. To begin, today like yesterday was a very long day. Justin and I left the house at 5:45 this morning in order to get down to UCLA by 7 am. I had to get there early in order for them to check me out to see if I needed platelets. Justin dropped me off and went to work, whereas I had to go and get blood drawn. Turns out that my platelet level increased overnight to a level where they didn't have give me anything after all. So, I had an hour and a half to kill before my 9:45 appointment. I read/slept in the lobby until it was time, and then I made my way up to the hemaphoresis clinic. (This is where the story gets way more interesting.)

This was the morning for the beginning, and hopefully the end, of my stem cell harvest. It's important to know that in order for them to harvest cells, they either have to be able to get to veins in each arm to draw from, or they have to put in a catheter. Well, of course, they couldn't get a vein in my right arm, and the picc line wasn't an option, so they had to put another catheter in me....in my groin. Yes....I said groin. Now, this is going to get mildly graphic, so you have been warned.

As soon as I made it to the clinic and signed the consent forms, I was then instructed to remove everything from the waist down. It's also important to know that the clinic is set up in a square with a nurses desk in the center, and 5 beds spaced around 2 of the walls. There's nothing like knowing that a thin hospital blanket is all that is separating the goods God gave you from a room full of people. Anyways, the Doctor eventually showed up and inserted the groin catheter. It's inserted into a vein in your groin, in the crease between your thigh and your privates. Once he was done, I had these two giant tubes sticking out of my groin which they hooked up to the stem cell collection machine. The look of the machine is reminiscent of a dialysis machine, but it works in a different way. Because of the tubes and the placement of the catheter, I had to remain sans clothes for the entire 5 hours of stem cell harvesting. It meant that if I had to pee within that time period, it meant bedpan. Now, do you think I managed to hold it for 5 hours? Of course not. So, finally I told the nurse that I had to go and she brought over the bed pan. Now, I've never used one before, so I was unclear on how exactly it worked. She had me lift up my butt with my legs, and she put underneath me a bed pan and told me to go. There I was, in some sort of yoga position, holding myself up on a bedpan, and the physics of the angles of the thing meant pee was going everywhere before hitting the pan. And, of course, the nurse was called away mid-stream, so I spent 3 minutes holding myself precariously over a plastic tub of my own urine, willing it not to spill anywhere and hoping my legs would continue to hold. Fortunately, she returned before anything more catastrophic happened then the loss of the remaining shreds of my dignity. Eventually, that was cleaned up, and the harvest continued.

Finally, after 4 hours I finished my harvest for the day. Since we are not sure if we got all the cells we need yet, they had to leave the groin catheter for the night. The nurse wrapped the tubes in gauze and then wrapped it in that bandage stuff which you get when you give blood. Then, I was allowed to finally put on my pants. However, I then noticed an "interesting" result of this. When I put on my pants, because of how the tube was wrapped and the placement, it appeared that I had a male bulge in my pants. Hence the hermaphrodite comment. And, if you think that i am exaggerating, I will have you know that Justin burst out laughing as soon as he saw it. I think I said earlier that during my bedpan incident I lost the remaining shreds of my dignity. That was incorrect. It was at the point that I noticed my new appendage that I actually lost the remaining shreds of dignity. Therefore, I will not be going out in public until it is removed, which will hopefully be tomorrow.

Tomorrow they will hopefully removing my picc line and my groin catheter and replacing it with a chest catheter. So, hopefully my self esteem will rise again tomorrow. One can only hope. And maybe you got a giggle at my expense...someone really should.

A very merry weekend

2008-12-08T08:45:00.000-08:00

Don't you just love the Christmas season? I do, and instead of sitting around the house this weekend worrying and falling into some sort of anxiety fueled fit, I decided to decorate the house and have a small party. Justin and I bought decorations for our "new" Christmas tree which was given to us to our good friends, Shannon and Gabriel. Shannon had warned us that it wasn't a very expensive tree, but Justin's reply was that he didn't care if it looked like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree as long it was free. Luckily it is a lovely tree, and we have the coolest star on top of it. We had some friends come over Saturday night and all played "Would you rather?" which is not a game I would suggest playing with 5 engineers.

Anyways, I've been up since 5:45 because I had to get over to UCLA to get some blood tests done. I managed to make it back in time to stick myself with neupogen at 8, and then make Justin breakfast before he went to work. So, I'm ready for a nap.

I still don't know yet whether the stem cell transplant is a go or not. I will know in the next few days, and as always, I will post when I know. One thing, though, is that I want everyone to know that even if I can't do the stem cell transplant, that doesn't mean that this is the end of the line for me. Far from it, actually. It's just that the transplant would be my best option. I am starting to get the feeling that some people thought that it was all over for me if this doesn't happen, and that's just not the case. That doesn't mean that I won't be severely disappointed if it doesn't happen, but I won't go jumping off a cliff or anything. I just wanted to clear that up.

Waiting, waiting....

2008-12-03T15:11:00.000-08:00

Well, we're still waiting to get the bone marrow test results back to see if my cells come back normal. Waiting sucks. That's about the only thing I can say about it. My transplant coordinator seems optimistic, whereas the doctor just sort of shrugged and said, "We'll see." Not the kind of interaction that most engenders confidence. I waiver between confidence and despair, and I suffer all the ups and downs which come from riding the roller coaster. My gut instinct is that these cells are going to come back normal, but my Eeyore side pushes me to brace for the worst. When I know what's what I will post it, but likely if it's not the news I want I will then curl up into a fetal position for a while.

Of course, when I start to feel sorry for myself, I have to be reminded that things could be much worse. I always meet people in waiting rooms, and yesterday in the midst of a 3 hour wait to see the doctor I met a 25 year old woman who has aggressive b-cell lymphoma, as well as a husband and a 2 year old. She's hoping to get a stem cell transplant too. I can't even imagine trying to do this while also being a stay at home mom to a 2 year old. Her name is Sharla if anyone would like to add her to your prayer lists.

The moral of the story is that life isn't fair, but it is beautiful.

/sigh

2008-12-02T11:16:00.000-08:00

5 days of injections down....quite a few more to go. I am happy to report though, that both Justin and I have given the injections with no hiccups. Even better, they apparently aren't going to cause me any major bone pain.

So far, everything has gone so well, and so the pessimistic part of me is cringing in my head waiting for the other shoe to drop. But, I think I am going to take advice from one of my aunt's and stop cringing. I am going to expect that things are going to work out. I mean, I feel like I have so much more to do in life than sit on the couch and convalesce. I want to be doing something, not being sick.

In mere minutes, Justin and I will be heading down to UCLA once again to sign all the consent forms for my stem cell transplant. If it is anything like our last couple of trips, we will be there for hours. If everything goes well, I could be having the stem cells harvested as soon as next week. So that is what I am going to hope for.

You'll have to forgive me if my blogs become increasingly tinged with anxiety. It's just that as all of this hurtles closer and closer, with uncertain outcomes and possibilities, I struggle to put off my nervousness. But I am determined to remain positive. I'm sure you can understand.

Handkerchiefs of Hope

2008-11-28T14:44:00.000-08:00

Happy belated Thanksgiving everybody!

So much news and so little time. This has been one of those weeks where you find yourself counting down the days until the next week starts. As you know, we found out about the little hitch in the plan with bone marrow on Monday. Then, on Tuesday, we were informed that our co-pay for my neupagin shots was going to be $2,775. No, I did not stutter, and we were informed that we needed to have that payed by Tuesday afternoon to make way for a Wednesday delivery. Then, on Wednesday, we went down to UCLA on the day before Thanksgiving in the worst traffic imaginable and had a four hour visit which included a bone marrow sample. Most blessedly, the bone marrow procedure was the least painful on I've had yet, and although I am hoping that this will be the last time, I at least know that I can do it again if I have to.

My husband, a veritable rock star, gave me three shots today. How amazing is that?

As for me, I am trying to be optimistic that everything else is going to go to plan. If I ever sound negative, it's because I usually try to work out in my brain the worst case scenarios for everything to mentally prepare myself for whatever might come along. But, of course I can't see the future. I am not even sure that I am going to make my dinner reservations tonight. We have a tentative schedule for the next month, and at the moment it seems like that I will be going in the hospital the week before or of Christmas, but that mean that I would be out of the hospital by early January!

I am a roller-coaster of emotions, and I try and stay positive as much as I can. I really appreciate everyone's comments and thoughts and emails. They give me encouragement and remind me why it is that I stumble to my laptop a couple of times a week and type up whatever nonsense my brain has come up with that day. I hope everyone will excuse the scattered nature of this post. With drugs and tiredness and just the normal post-turkey day lull, I am kind of every which way. Hopefully it will be better next time.

Nobody ever expects the spanish inquisition

2008-11-24T14:50:00.000-08:00

You got to know something is up when the blog has the above title. We have a small hitch in the stem cell transplant get-a-long, if you will. This includes a quasi-long explanation, so bear with me.

As my regular readers know, I had to give a bone marrow sample a couple of weeks ago, and from that they ran a battery of tests. The tests showed negative for any cancer, and then there were three tests they did to test the molecular structure of the cells. Turns out, high dose chemotherapy can damage the bone marrow, to the point of which they can't do a stem cell transplant. That's because it is the bone marrow that produces the stem cells, and the damaged bone marrow can make stem cells which are chromosomally abnormal. They did three particular tests in relation to that, and they looked at 20 cells in each test. In the first two tests, everything was completely normal. On the third test, there were 17 normal cells and 3 abnormal ones. My two oncologists, one of which is the head of the lymphoma department, felt that there was no need for concern and were ready to proceed. However, upon presenting my three measly wonky cells to the transplant committee it was decided that I should have another bone marrow sample taken just to make sure. So, either tomorrow or Wednesday I am going to go and get my third, yes, third bone marrow sample taken. The good news is that the transplant nurse doesn't think that there is anything to worry about, and that good chances are that I will still get the transplant. Moral of the story: Don't count your chickens until they're hatched. Or, better yet, Don't count your transplant until it's transplanted.

I am exhausted emotionally from my bone marrow/stem cell roller coaster I've been on today. But I think I am struggling even more so with how I reacted in the first place to the news. I realized that I still struggle with my nature to try and figure things out. I was so happy last week, because I had everything figured out. I knew the stem cell transplant was a go, and I thought that this had a pretty good chance of cure, so I was planning at least the next three months out. Then, wham, I am reminded a little harshly that I am not in control of my life. Heck, 3 of my tiny cells have more control right now than I do. It would be so much more comfortable to know all the answers, but I can't and I would be lying to you if I told you that I wasn't afraid. Although it is difficult, I have to give all this over to God and let Him carry it because I sure the heck can't. So, all of my prayer warriors out there, you know what to do. Please pray that this next bone marrow sample looks ok, and that I might still be eligible for the transplant. And please, pray for some peace and comfort for Justin and me.

And now, for the rest of the story....

2008-11-21T08:44:00.000-08:00

Thanks to all of you who were willing to put their issues out there. Whew. Doesn't that feel cathartic? And I am way cheaper than a shrink, so my advice is that you should take that $150 you saved on an hour of therapy and go buy yourself something pretty.

On another note, I got the call from the insurance company yesterday letting me know that my stem cell transplant has been approved, so it is officially a go from all sides. This has, of course, made me elated, but after a little bit the elation begins to fade and I begin to realize that I have to really go through with it. There is a great likelihood, although nothing is certain, that this will ensure my long-term survivability but it is an intense thing to do. It involves weeks of injections which will likely cause my bones to ache. Three weeks in the hospital, some of which I might be so sick that they will have to feed me through a tube. Not to mention 2 weeks after that when I have to be watched like a hawk 24/7. It will undoubtedly be the most challenging physical thing I've ever had to go through in my life.

Still, I think I am going to try and hold on to the elation for just a little bit longer. I am going to try and just worry about today. I've got a lot of shopping to do; I have to buy a birthday gift and thanksgiving groceries, and i have to clean my condo in preparation for guests that are coming in for Thanksgiving. Lastly, I have to battle with myself internally to try and decide whether I will submit myself to seeing the new Twilight film, even though I am positive that I will hate it, seeing as I am a literary purist. In other words, I am going to be normal. For a couple of days at least.

Issues

2008-11-18T10:06:00.001-08:00

So, I find myself with a free week where I feel decent and I don't have chemo. Although the most ideal situation ever would be to have chemo this week, I can't help but being a little glad that I have a bit of free time whilst I wait for my body to make more platelets. Go platelets.

A small anecdote before I get to the gist of my blog. Yesterday after lunch I went to the Micheal's to pick up some stuff for a project I am doing. On my way out of the store I glanced off to my left, and I saw I woman and a little girl who appeared to be about 9 years old who was wearing a beanie. It caught my attention because it was 80 degrees outside, hot for a winter hat, and on further inspection I noticed that she didn't appear to have any hair. About the time I made this observation, the woman noticed me and quickly leaned over and tapped the little girl on the shoulder. The girl looked up from her Nintendo DS and the woman pointed to me. I should probably mention that I wasn't wearing a hat, as is usual. The girl looked at me so I smiled and waved at her, and she grinned and gave me a shy wave back and I continued on my way to the car. The interaction lasted maybe 30 seconds, but it made my day. I hope that that girl saw me and felt better about herself because there was someone else like her. Maybe she felt less different, less weird. It made me feel fuzzy inside.

Anecdote aside, the last few blogs have been a little intense, so I thought I would lighten the tone just as I this week has turned out to be a free one. When my dad was here a month ago I, perhaps mistakenly, started a conversation with my Dad about issues. My theory was that everybody has issues, even my Dad. Dad took umbrage at the idea he might have issues (although I know most of it was bluster), and so Justin even stepped in to the conversation to assert that, yes, everyone does have issues. So, my dad asked the explosive and completely unanswerable question, "What are my issues?" This question should never be answered lest one desires to dig oneself a very deep hole. I personally believe that one's issues should be explored through personal introspection or with a licensed professional. Perhaps with a spouse if one has very very thick skin.

Anyways, this whole conversation led me to this brilliant idea: what are your issues?
For example, I have many issues. I am a control freak, for one. I am really bad at organization. Sometimes I procrastinate...why do today what you can do tomorrow? I get really frustrated when I lose or when I am bad at something. I apparently have a propensity to grow certain types of cancer.

I have many more issues, but I would like to invite you to leave a comment, telling me one of your issues. Just to prove to my Dad that everyone does have them. Please...I never get to prove him wrong. You've got to help me out here.

Yippee!!

2008-11-17T14:20:00.001-08:00

Well, That was fast, wasn't it? So good news and a little "eh" news. Let's start with the "eh" news. I got held over for chemo this week, meaning that I'll have chemo next week instead. It's not really bad news because it is something that we kind of expected. It's not unusual at all for one's blood count's not to jump back up. Down side is that I will be sick for thanksgiving, and I won't get to go to the San Diego Zoo, a trip we had planned to take next Friday.

Good news: The Pet scan was normal! Yea! That means just another step on the way to stem cell transplant. Whew. What a relief that is. In addition my bone marrow scan for any cancer also came back negative, meaning I might never have to give a bone marrow sample ever again.

I'm not out of the woods yet, but thing are going as well as possible so far, and I couldn't be more grateful.

And you thought I was brave...

2008-11-16T22:07:00.000-08:00

Here I am on the eve of a crucial week in this process, and for those of you who have labeled me brave, I wish you could see me now. I am a bag of nerves. Waiting for the results of a Pet scan is like waiting for the results of your biggest exam ever.... times 1000. And if you don't pass the exam, it could directly effect your physical life. And it never gets any better, whether you have a couple of good scans under your belt or not. But it is infinitely worse when your last scan indicated that your cancer had come back and the current scan could make or break your chances for a life saving stem cell transplant.

I tend to range in emotions from anxiety to tears to forced calm. I really don't know if I will find out the results on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. I will know something this week. I really really really hope that this goes well. I really need this to go well. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically....but I have to come to terms with the fact that I will have to deal with it either way. And that if this chemo isn't working, they will have to do something else. And there are still options....just it would be better if this was working.

Wow. I bet this raised your anxiety too....especially if you are my Dad. Maybe I should have put a warning at the beginning of the blog for him. Oh well, he can take it. So, until I know something I'll probably say nothing....unless I get an itch to write and then, who knows?

I feel loved

2008-11-14T14:36:00.000-08:00

Before I get to the root of my blog today, I want to be honest and admit that I am scared. Next week, I'll learn if my salvage chemo is working and if I am on the road to getting the stem cell transplant. Probably the hardest thing about this process is the waiting because it's hard to stop your mind from running through all the possibilities. I really hope that I have good news to deliver soon, and in the mean time I will be trying to keep my mind elsewhere.

Now...for the rest of the story. You know, one of the few advantages of getting sick (and there are few) is that they are one of the opportunities in life where you really fully experience how much you love and are loved by others. It's just one of those inevitable things about the situation that people feel moved to express how they feel. As for me, I have no doubt that I am so very loved by my family and friends, and it means everything to me.

One group in particular I would like to note is the church. You know, the church (universal)gets a really bad rap these days for various reasons, but there is nothing like the love and support of church family through difficult times. I am lucky to have several church families that think about me and support me. To begin, there is OCPC, which is made up of people who have loved me through thick and thing and supported me practically all my life. Sometimes the faces change, but their love never waivers, and they have always been for me a powerful example of the love of Christ lived out.

In addition, there is St. Stephen Presbyterian church in Chatsworth. For those of you who might be unaware, I worked there for a year as a middle school youth intern, but had leave the position for various reasons. However, during that time I made many friends and grew to love the community there. Now, I have not attended services there for over a year, but still my friends from that body pray for me, email me, and keep in contact. It's an amazing and humbling thing, and I am so grateful for their love too.

It's been almost 9 years since my mother was first diagnosed with her cancer, which in and of itself is hard to believe. It's my belief that around the time she was diagnosed, she was feeling unappreciated....just like many of us often do. She had two teenagers, notoriously ungrateful, as well as a demanding job and chores at home. I think that one of the good things that came out of my mom's illness is that she learned just how much people cared about her.

I have mentioned several times in my blog that we ought to be more grateful, and I say that because I believe that it shouldn't take illness for us to express our love for those we care about. I think it's important to really take the energy to express how we feel before we experience crisis. So....you know what to do.

Peace out.

Go cardiovascular system!

2008-11-11T22:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I think everyone will be happy to know that my tests on Monday went relatively well. As far as I know, my heart and lungs appear to be up to the feat of taking on the super chemo. Hopefully my kidneys and liver and blood marrow will turn out to also be resilient enough to take it too. All I have now is to show that my cancer has reduced from the ICE chemo, and everything will be well on track.

I am nervous about finding out the results of the Pet scan. I am very anxious to know if it is working, and I am eager to know that it is. I just really want this treatment to work so that I can live. Living is good.

I want to take a brief moment to preach. I try not to do that, but it is my blog so I'll preach now and then if I want to. One of the lessons I learned from my mother, and that I've learned from this entire experience is that we need to be in tune with our bodies. If something is happening with you that feels weird, don't just write it off. We know when something is off with our body, and it is important not to be in denial. The funny thing, so often we write off symptoms because we don't want to face the possibilities, when the truth is that our outcomes would be far better if we faced our fears. So, if something feels off, go to your doctor. No matter what he or she might tell you, it's much better to know now then to know 6 months later. Trust me.

See, that wasn't so bad, was it?

No hair up there

2008-11-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

Sorry it's been so long since the last blog. I am glad that everyone appreciated the bathing humor. Justin pondered after that blog, "Is it possible to reveal too much?" I argue, no, at least not if you don't post pictures.

Anyways, I had a big week last week, and a big week coming up, so I had best get to it. To begin, I feel compelled to post that I love my new microwave that Dad bought me while he was here. J and I had been without one for a year or so since our 15+ year old microwave had busted, and had learned to do without. Did you know that you can heat water in 2 minutes? Genius. Dad insisted on buying the thing for us, claiming that we would want and need it. And, as much as it pains me, Dad was right. There. I posted it on the internet so that he can use it into posterity.

A lot of things happened this week, including me surviving my 2nd round of ICE chemo, my hair falling out and shaving my head, and I survived another bone marrow sample. Let me say this. If any of you can avoid ever having to give a bone marrow sample, I would highly recommend it. I have now had two which officially makes me a bad a**. Forgive the language, but there is no other way to describe it. Let me describe it to you and you can decide whether or not the term is apropos. First, you lay on your stomach, and the doctor finds a nice spot on your pelvis. Then you are prepped and the doctor uses novacaine to numb your skin. After that, he makes a small incision with the scalpel and puts a needle to your bone and tries to novacaine the bone. Once your bone has been "numbed", he does three things. First, he scrapes the bone. Second, the removes a small piece of your bone, and then finally he inserts a needle inside your bone and removes bone marrow. It only takes 2 minutes or so total, but 2 minutes of excruciating pain seem to last a long time. See. I'm a bad a**.

However, to be fair, it was much less shocking the second time around though no less painful. And I am proud of myself that they didn't have to sedate me. Go me.

Also, Justin earned his big boy nursing badge this week. The nurses taught him how to flush my pic line with heparin and to clean and change the bandages. And he finally FINALLY shaved my head, which I've been begging him to do for the entire week. He wanted to wait and see if the hair was really going to fall out. However, when by Friday all the surfaces of our condo were so covered with hair that one would think we had a golden retriever shedding his winter coat, Justin finally conceded. (Forgive the repetition of metaphor from last blog. I usually try for more creativity, but if it ain't broke....)

See how much has been going on? And this week holds in store some interesting stuff too. For my prayer warriors, you should know that I have some big tests this week which will determine if I can have the stem cell transplant. All day Monday I will be being poked and prodded and tested at UCLA, so keep me in your prayers. On Friday there is, perhaps, the biggest one. I will have a PET scan which will tell us if the chemo is working, and we most desperately want it to be working. The results of this week's tests are crucial, so please remember us. I hope to be able to give very good news very soon, and we can rejoice together.

Until then......

I wash myself with a rag on a stick

2008-10-31T10:13:00.001-07:00

I think this blog has been too serious lately, so I thought maybe everyone might enjoy some of the humor of the current situation.

So, I knew that having a pic line in as opposed to a port-a-catheter would be an interesting experience, but a brief one. Turns out, after some discussion with the doctors, it will not be such a brief experience. I will be keeping the pic line throughout my current treatment and not getting a port. Now, I'll have to take a picture and post it so that people unfamiliar with it can grasp the full scope of the issue. A pic line goes into the side of my bicep and is threaded through a vein up my arm and down a vein into my chest. Where the line is inserted is covered with gauze and a large piece of clear medical tape. Hanging freely are two tubes, each about 5 inches long into which the nurses connect my iv. The first problem the whole scenario is that you can't really go around with two tubes dangling from your arm, not only for the sake of fashion, but also for the practical reason that if those little buggers get snagged on something and get yanked.....well, since they are attached to a long tube threading my body, it can't be good. Therefore, they are held in place by a tube of fabric known as a sleeve. Also challenging: you can't get it wet. Which brings us to bathing.

So, every time I desire cleanliness, I have to convince Justin to help me saran wrap my arm so that I can take a sponge bath. However, we found that this takes a long time and since I am restricted to my left arm, is problematic. Justin, therefore, had to take over the job. Now, I know that to some of you, especially women, the thought of having one's husband help you bathe is sweet or even romantic. Let me dash those illusions now. Justin is a one-man efficiency machine. I've been trying to think about how to describe the process, and I've come up with this. Have you ever seen a golden retriever being given a bath in one of those large metal dog-washing sinks? Substitute me for the retriever, and that's pretty much what its like. Seriously, I'm pretty sure that he checks me each time for ticks. Now, I don't begrudge him his methodology and indeed I am grateful that he helps me out. Besides, I'd given up any remaining dignity I had long ago.

The other funny bit lately is the quantity of people who have approached Justin and I lately to ask if Justin has someone to talk to. I would say that Justin is doing pretty well right now. He's a little stressed, but who wouldn't be given his situation. I don't think he's about to snap, but then again I don't think anyone would know until he actually snapped. So if he starts mumbling about high powered riffles and bell towers in his sleep, I'll let everyone know...but otherwise I think he's doing ok. Promise.

Head above water

2008-10-29T15:01:00.000-07:00

I'm back! To be fair, I've actually felt well enough to write for 3 or 4 days or so, but I've been a slacker. So sue me. To begin, I want to give a heartfelt thanks to Maryann and Jen for sending me books. They get an A+ not only for content, but for speed. How you managed to get books to me that fast, I'll never know. Thank you ladies. You rock.

I am doing well, but the chemo was pretty tough. I was completely wiped on Thursday and Friday as well as mildly crummy on Saturday. Now, however, I have recovered pretty well. The nausea has subsided as well as most of the tiredness I feel, and I even managed to run all of my errands yesterday without incurring a fever. The title of this blog refers more to my emotional state. I won't lie to everyone, this is a struggle. I am struggling emotionally. This is hard. But I take it one day at a time, one piece at a time, and I make it through each day.

One of the purposes of this blog has always been to provide accurate, widespread information to my families and friends so that there is no misinformation. Therefore, I want to restate some facts so that everyone is on the same page.

First, the old facts:

1. I have Hodgkins lymphoma- That's the good kind. Hodgkin's lymphoma is one of the most curable kinds of cancer. Despite this current setback, I have very good odds of beating this and being cured. My odds are somewhere up there in the 80th percentile. That's not bad. If you don't trust me, feel free to go online to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and Website and read all about it.
2. So far I have been through 6 months of treatment called ABVD. I have never had any radiation. Note: since I responded really well to the ABVD treatment, I have much better odds of being cured from these treatments. It's not fail proof, but there is reason for optimism.

New Facts:

1. I am currently going through a chemotherapy regime called ICE, which I will take every two weeks, approximately 3-4 cycles. The purpose of this chemo is to shrink the cancer.
2. If the chemo I am on currently does it's job, I will go through a barrage of tests to make sure that I am up to having a bone marrow/stem cell transplant.
3. Assuming I am green lighted for the stem cell transplant, two weeks or so after my last ICE treatment, I will have my stem cells harvested at UCLA, an outpatient process which takes anywhere from 2-7 days.
4. Once they have enough stem cells, they will put me in the hospital at UCLA and give me really high dose chemotherapy which will knock my immune system down to nothing, and then they will give me back my own stem cells to help me recover. I will be in the hospital for approximately three weeks. The first 5 days are for chemo, and the next 10+ days will be for recovery of my immune system. If everything goes to plan, this could take place as early as December.

Whew. A lot of information, I know. You may have gleaned this on your own, but in case you didn't, this is going to be a very rough couple of months for Justin and I. Brutal might even be a more accurate description. We need your support, and we will be asking for it in different ways.

Please pray for us. Pray that I am delivered from this disease. Pray for the doctors and nurses and the insurance people. Pray that I respond to this ICE treatment. Pray that I am strong enough to receive the transplant. And give thanks for your life and for the blessing of your own health. You never know what's going to happen tomorrow.

I love all of you.

Sleeping

2008-10-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

Just to let everyone know...I am totally wiped. I will probably be sleeping for the next several days, so don't worry if you don't hear from me. I'll write again when I emerge from chemo stupor.

Holy urinal cakes, Batman!

2008-10-22T15:26:00.000-07:00

I'm done with my first cycle! Yea! And, so far, I'm not too worse for the wear. WARNING: The rest of this paragraph will contain mildly graphic material and, therefore, if you do not wish to hear more about my urinary tract, I would definitely skip forward to the next paragraph. To continue, the only really annoying part so far has been a mild urinary irritation which made me feel as if I had to pee constantly and caused some pain. Luckily, turns out it is neither infection nor irritated bladder, just a mild irritation that goes away with plenty of hydration. Translation: mild discomfort and a regular date with the toilet. And peeing in a cup multiple times.

Welcome back to those of you who skipped the rest of the first paragraph. I am lifting our request for no phone calls. Reality has settled in and our routine has sort of been figured out. I want to thank everyone for respecting us in that request. It was so helpful. Also, I have had requests from some to know what they might do to be of help, and Justin and I have thought of something. I could use some more books, so if you would like to suggest some reading to me or even send me a book, that would be awesome. I think that will be all for now, because I need some rest.

Pump it up

2008-10-21T08:56:00.000-07:00

Just in case you were wondering, I survived my first day back on chemo. There's so much to update you on. I got my pic line put in, which was a little weird but ultimately very easy especially since they found a perfect large vein to put it in. Then I went over to the cancer center and they hooked me up to the anti-nausea drugs. After about 10 minutes of the anti-nausea drugs I noticed that whenever I looked up from my book, my eyesight was very fuzzy. I thought to myself, man, I really need to eat something. My blood sugar must be crazy low because I hadn't eaten anything for 15 hours or so. So right about the time I had opened an begun eating my granola bar to raise up my blood sugar, the nurse came by and asked how I was doing with the drugs. I told her I was fine, and she said, "Oh good, because sometimes this Zofran can caused blurry vision." To which I responded, "Oh, well, I do have that." It was very weird until it disappeared.

The other interesting part of my day results from my not computing when the nurses told me that one of my drugs would be a pump, that meant that it would be coming home with me. A pump is for a drug that has to be pumped into your body very slowly. Some people can have them for a week, but for me it is only 24 hours. So, if you can imagine, I have 2 tubes hanging out of my arm, one of which is connected by a long tube to a big bag of drugs and a little machine which slowly pumps it into me over the 24 hours. I have a square little bag, say 1'X 6"X 3" in which the bag of drugs goes, and I can't disconnect from it. They were with me when I tried to change clothes, when I went to dinner tonight, and when I went to bed. It's like a purse you can't put down and not even a cute one.

Anyways, I feel a little tired, but the nausea seems to be taken care of by the drugs, just like last time. I'll even be driving myself to this next session.
There's one more small thing I would like to address. I've had several people tell me how brave I am, and I want to assure people that I am not very brave at all. In fact, I'm just doing what I have to do and I am choosing to have a good attitude about it. I place all responsibility and credit to God, for allowing me to get through this once, and now twice, and keeping both Justin and I from going crazy. I have no magical personal strength, but in Christ who strengthens me. I just think its important to give the credit where credit is due.
Do not worry about anything, but in everything, in prayer and supplication,with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phillipians 4:6-7

Pic line, port, and ICE, oh my!

2008-10-17T08:32:00.000-07:00

Ok. So I am definitely starting chemo on Monday. I need to get a port-a-catheter put back in, because we took it out not expecting the cancer to come back. However, the doctor who is going to put it in is out of town for two weeks, so until then they are going to insert a pic line. For those of you unfamiliar with that, they will basically insert a line into my arm and it will go up through my arm and down an artery in my chest. Because of the type of chemo, they can't just stick it into my arm with a regular iv. The advantage of doing this is that I can start chemo on monday. Yea. Bad news is that I will be forced to take sponge baths until they take it out. Sigh.

Thank you, everyone, for appreciating the no calling request for this week. Justin and I really appreciate it, mostly because the situation in and of itself is draining and it makes it even harder to have to rehash the facts over and over again.

This treatment is going to be difficult, but despite this relapse I have very good odds. The odds are probably better than good, especially since I reacted very well to the first round of chemotherapy. This is not the time for despair, but the time to pray for strength, courage, and healing.

I probably won't write again until Monday, mostly because I don't want to dwell on it this weekend. I plan to play some video games, play some tennis, and enjoy myself before next week. I hope all of you enjoy your weekends too.

Same song, Second verse

2008-10-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

To begin, I apologize for the need to disseminate information in this somewhat impersonal way, but it is difficult to have to give the facts over and over again. So instead, I will lay everything out here, and that way I only have to say it once.

My doctor called me Tuesday to inform me that my latest pet scan indicated that the cancer was back. I have two lymph nodes in my chest, and possibly another in my back. They are a little uncertain about my back. This means that we start the treatment process again.

I will be getting a port put in again. I am going to be starting chemo again next week, a new regime called ICE. It will be a chemo I will take over three days every 2-3 weeks for 4 cycles. Then, after I finish that cycle, in January they will be harvesting my stem cells. After they have harvested my stem cells, they will put me in the hospital at UCLA and hit me with the hardest chemo possible and then give me back my stem cells to help me recover. Once that is finished and I recover from it they might do radiation.

That's a lot isn't it? Now I know this is shocking and unsettling, but it is what it is. Some of you might be thinking, what can I do to help?

1. Please don't call just yet: I know you might want to call, but Justin and I are still trying to process and feel a little bit normal for at least until the chemo starts again. If you want to call next week, that would be fine, but we're just not in the mood to rehash at the moment.
2. Prayer: Pray for us. Feel free to put us on any prayer lists you have and to remember us. That is very helpful.
3. Be Thankful: Look around your life and appreciate all that you have. Give thanks for your health and your family and all the gifts you've been given in life.

I appreciate that you care enough to read my blog, and I will continue to keep it up to date so that our family and friends know what is going on. Again, I'm sorry to inform everyone in this way, but it's the best I can do.

They like me, they really like me!

2008-03-21T16:12:00.000-07:00

Sally Fields moment there. (For you youngbies, ask an older person and they'll explain the reference moment to you) Anyways, I have been getting bugged for a new blog. And, to be fair, I have been quite pathetic when it comes to keeping up. There have both been many things and yet very little going. How can that be, you ask? Well, let's see...I went to Colorado with Justin. I didn't end up skiing, but I did shoot a gun for the first time and I also went on a tour of the Coors Brewery. That was interesting .... and all in all it was a very all-American weekend. An aside, I was amazed at the violence of the gun up close, and found I was terrified by it. I was also surprised by the yummy-ness of fresh Coors beer.

But, without a job, life can be kind of boring. I realize that my job right now is to get well, but it can be a little boring. I am excited about the prospect of being cancer-free. There has been one super major frustration of this whole thing, and I'll bet that you won't be able to guess what it is. I must back up and add a little context to this picture. You see, most people struggle physically in many ways on chemo. They suffer from fatigue, loss of appetite, hair loss, etc.... This physical debilitation often caused from the treatment often causes them to lose weight.

What you need to know about me and my experience with treatment has been rather different than many people. Probably due to my age and type of cancer, I have borne the treatment very well. My appetite has been fine (surprise, surprise), and if I let myself sleep for three days, by the fourth I am starting to feel quite well. Indeed, I have going to the gym most other days. So, my problem hasn't been weight loss, but weight gain! I'm grateful that I am doing so well, but jiminey crickets, do I have to get fatter? I can hear the doctor as he goes from patient to patient. I'll hear him tell one patient or the other that to try and gain a lbs or two in the following weeks. Notably, he has never proffered me such medical advice. So since my appetite has survived and my activity plummeted, I put on weight. So it's counting calories and exercise for me. Yippee. Life can be terribly unfair, can't it. Cancer and dieting? Cruel. But, I lost 4 lbs this past week, so I suppose it will all bear out.

To add to my feeling somewhat unattractive, I have some hair, but not all. I would estimate that I lost 25% of my hair. It's thin, but there. So, this leads to more and more staring. You see, people can't seem to decide "what's the deal?" with me. So they feel license to stare, and more recently since the hair I have has grown longer, I have had people openly snicker after looking at me. It hurts a little, but not too much. On an interesting note, I discovered something bizarre about my hair. That which has not fallen out is striped. Like the rings of a tree, each strand goes from thick to thin from the chemo. Intriguing.

Well, that's enough for the moment, but I won't be so long away next time. Promise

WOOT!

2008-02-14T17:58:00.001-08:00

I hope that my delay in blogging didn't worry anyone, but we got my pet scan results back. And the result was, in the doctor's words not mine, excellent. Woot! But, let me back you up and tell you the whole story.

So, in the week between taking the scan and finding out the results, my emotions were subject to roller coaster ups and downs. When I was being rational, which is hard to do for a normal person under the circumstances much less someone prone to irrationality like myself, I could look at the objective facts and be hopeful. I knew that my back has almost been completely pain free, whereas before I started out being up in almost constant pain. I knew that where my neck once had a lump which was visible to the naked eye and even more noticeable to the touch, I could feel absolutely nothing but muscle.
Yet my irrational side kept saying, but what if? This pessimism has some grounding in my history. Waiting for scans when my mom was sick was agonizing. Sometimes we got good news, and sometimes bad, and I taught myself to prepare for the worst. I forced myself to consider all the possibilities, so at least when I got the bad news I would be prepared....I would be ready. Although, you are never really ready to hear bad news. It can be scary to hope, because it is a horrible feeling when you hope for and expect the best, and you don't get good news.

So I didn't want to get my hopes up for these results, but Justin kept trying to convince me that based on all the evidence, the results would be good. I had a minor meltdown Sunday night, but Justin talked me through it. Then, I got positive, and I was doing great all the way to the doctor's office on Wednesday. When we got in the waiting room, the anxiety began to surge. I overheard the nurses trying to decide where to put me and I realized that they were putting me in a consultation room. I figured that if all was good, they would simply take me back to my chemo chair and the doctor would talk to me there. I thought that surely putting me in a private room, which hasn't been done since my first consultation, meant that they were breaking bad news to me. So when they took me back to take my blood pressure my heart was racing with fear.(notable fact: my blood pressure was 25 points lower this morning than it was yesterday morning) By the time Justin and I were in the consultation room I was in tears. We waited for 15 minutes or so, me anxiously pacing and tearing up and worrying and Justin calmly flipping through 3 months worth of skiing magazines (notably he wasn't as disturbed by the scenario as I). Finally, Dr. Black came in the room and took one look at me and asked, "Why do you look so terrified?" I told him that I was afraid that the test results were bad because they had put me in a room to talk with him. He told me that the test results were really good, and the nurses had put me back in the room because there weren't any chairs available at the moment. I believe that Justin gave me an "I told you so" look. Then I explained, perhaps moderately irrationally, that putting me back in the room was tantamount to psychological warfare. He said, "You know, I never thought about it that way, but I can see how them putting you back here could make you nervous. Good thing I didn't send in the grief counselor." Fantastic. An oncologist with a sense of humor.

The results were as follows: everything from my around my collar bone is gone; my spleen is clean; there's just a little bit left in my back and in my chest, but they are both greatly diminished. Hopes are that when he tests me after the next 2 rounds that everything will be gone. I will finish up in total 4 more rounds of chemotherapy either way and then we will discuss if he thinks we should do radiation.

But the treatment is working. I have every real hope of being cured as much as one can be cured from cancer. I feel like I know have the chance to think about my future seriously again. I feel as if I can begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I am hopeful. I am also a little sick at the moment from the treatment yesterday, but a little discomfort is worth getting well.

I feel it is important to mention this before I go. This past weekend, a dear man who was a friend of mine passed away after a battle with cancer. Len Roberts was one of kindest, most loving people I've ever met. He had a heart bigger that the state of Texas and a spirit as strong as his southern accent. I got to know him well when I was on the pastor nominating committee as we all sought the next pastor of Oak Cliff Presbyterian Church. His resoluteness to seek the will of God in calling a pastor, his determination to do the right thing and his willingness to work tirelessly easily earned my respect, but his character and loving nature earned my love and affection. My heart goes out to his family and loved ones. He will be greatly missed.

Look at me! I glow!

2008-02-08T16:21:00.000-08:00

Ok,ok. I really don't glow, but that would be an awesome side affect of being made radioactive. Yesterday I was subjected to my second pet scan, and to do the scan they both inject you and have you drink radioactive sugar. Yum. You know, the fun thing about all of my appointments and scans and things is that I tend to be the about 20-30 years younger than every other patient I see. They keep telling me that there are lots of young patients they have....I just never see them. I suppose that deep down, I am glad that I don't see lots of people my age in these places, because it sucks to be 26 and sick. I don't mean to complain...but I want to be honest.

I made the mistake and called to ask a question of the nurses at my oncology office. I've had a little bit of drainage for the past week or two. Its probably just allergies, but there's some green stuff in my snot. Then today, I had 1 cough that brought up the slightest bit of green stuff. Well, just as a precaution, I thought I would call the nurse and asked if she would suggest anything for me to do. When I called, I was very clear that I felt fine and that I wasn't running a fever, and that it was just a little green....and MAN they hopped into action. They immediately got the number of my pharmacy, paged the doctor, and arranged for me to be on antibiotics. The same antibiotics that I was supposed to take if I got a fever over 101.5. I kept asking the nurse, "Are you sure? Seriously?" But, the doctor was clear. So, I am on the antibiotic. I'm glad that I didn't mention that I have had green snot for about 2 weeks. They might have sent over a rescue mission.

So, here I am on these antibiotics. It is a funny thing, being on lots and lots of drugs. You start to begin to read labels a little more carefully, you know, to prevent bad combinations of drugs and whatnot. Trust me, one must be an advocate for oneself. And when I read the information of this drug, it lists the following side effects: Belly pain, nausea or vomiting. Small frequent meals, frequent mouth care, sucking hard, sugar free candy, or chewing sugar-free gum may help. Diarrehea.

Yea! Oh yeah, it also says that on rare occasions it can cause you to be dizzy, or for your tendons to rupture. Sigh. And I begin to wonder if the snot was really all that bad. I know, I know....you are thinking that the doctor knows best. He does.

Moving steadily along, I think it is crucial to mention that as I am blogging, I am watching BET gospel channel where TD Jakes is preaching. This is not something I do often, but it happened to catch my attention. As he preaches, his band emphasizes certain points in his sermon with instrumentation. A tambourine in one instant, chords on the organ in another. Now, my favorite preaching professor would be aghast, but I kind of like this style. I'm not sure that it would go over so well in a presbyterian church. Entertaining you must admit. It makes me wonder when I will be up in a pulpit again. It's funny, in a way. In October, I was preaching for members of my committee in front of my home church, and being a part of the women's great banquet meeting. I was in the midst of my chaplaincy internship at UCLA. And now, I am sitting alone on a Friday afternoon, praying against side effects, anticipating the results of a pet scan, watching TD Jakes preaching a sermon titled "Nothing Just Happens." Part of me totally believes and part of me wants to believe this is true, if that makes any sense. The problem is that it usually takes time and perspective to really understand why things happen. I can believe that things happen for a reason without being able to see it in my own situation. I would like to think it is some maturity on my part that I am able to know this. But my immaturity comes in that I would really like to know now. I would really like to have the 20/20 hindsight to know why this is happening to me, and what the purpose in it all is, so that I could bear up under the weight of my struggles better.

Enough of that. Please keep me in your prayers; pray that I might have good test results. Pray that my cancer will be taken away. Thank you.

A musing

2008-01-30T14:47:00.000-08:00

I was at target today, shopping while Justin was attempting to get an eye exam. (That attempt failed, but that's a story for another day) I solidified a theory that I had been developing over the past couple of weeks. You see, I spend much of my time as the inmate...I mean, occupant of our condo. At first I chalked that up to my desire to convalesce and get better, and although that is part of the truth, it isn't the complete truth. When I go out, say to Target like today, people stare at me. Granted, I don't generally wear a hat or a scarf because its hot, so I definitely look odd. The thing is, it isn't particularly that I find the staring rude or offensive. To be perfectly honest, being bald makes people nicer with many people giving me smiles, nods, or a greeting. The problem with going out and the stares I receive is that it reminds me that I am different. It reminds me that my life is out of whack right now.

The same thing often happens when I talk or hang out with friends who are relatively in the same stage of life. Their lives aren't on hold like mine is, and I don't like to think about it. In fact, on Friday I go to take my last test in the series of tests that I take for my ordination. Imagine, I'll be sitting in a classroom with a bunch of other students, all of whom are bright eyed and bushy tailed with large lattes in hand, and there I will be. Bald, one day after treatment and right after getting a shot which can cause me bone pain, trying to take a test. Seems like I'm at a slight disadvantage, no? But this test is only offered once a year, so I have to take it.

On top of that, tomorrow I go for chemo. It feels like I've been doing this forever, but this is only my fourth treatment. I have to do this 8 more times after this and the thought makes me.....something. Not thrilled, that's for sure. A week or so after my treatment, I start to feel pretty good. I feel normal, healthy, ready to do stuff. Then, 5 days after I start to feel good I have to go and have poison pumped into me. I've only been at this for 2 months, and I have no idea how my mother did this for almost 3 years. Actually I know exactly how she did it. We do what we can to live.

Funny, though. I'm not depressed. I don't really feel too sorry for myself. I'm lucky. I have an illness which will most likely get cured. I have an amazing husband, and a great supportive family. I have friends and a church. I have hope that I am simply on hiatus, not down for the count. And besides, how awesome will I be when I rock that test with cancer? Seriously, I should get bonus points or something. Maybe I can ask my liaison about that.

Recovering

2008-01-22T14:25:00.000-08:00

So, its 5 days out of the last chemo, and it definitely knocked me out. I slept so much on Saturday and Sunday. It sucks. I get chemo on a Thursday and it knocks me out pretty well until about Tuesday. Then, by the time I am feeling pretty decent, I have to lay low because of my counts. So, I get about 5 days every two weeks where I am both feeling up to and am allowed to do whatever I want. I can't believe I have to do this nine more times. I waffle between being incredibly grateful that there is a treatment and that I am doing so well with it, but I am resentful that I have over four more months of this. I feel so horrible that I am so ungrateful. The emotional part of dealing with cancer is as difficult at times as dealing with the side effects. Anyways, I'll probably be lying low for a while. I'll let you know if anything fun happens.

Is sleep blogging worse than drunk blogging?

2008-01-18T21:26:00.000-08:00

They say that driving tired can be more dangerous than driving drunk, albeit both are are horrible. This leads me to the hypothesis that sleepy blogging is possibly more crazy than drunk blogging. To be fair, since I can't drink right now, this must remain an untested hypothesis; but I think that we can all agree that based on the last blog that sleepy/insomniac blogging is dangerous. Sigh.

I appreciate that my aunt Maria understood how a extrovert can be shy and retiring at times. Much empathy props, tia.

As my husband pointed out to me this afternoon, my last blog rambled a bit. But it was honest; probably more so than I would generally want to be on the internet, so I guess in a way it is good. Forgive me, friends, if I divulged too much.

I think that I did too much today. Especially when you consider that I only got 4-5 hours sleep last night. I got up, fixed Justin breakfast, and took him to work. Then, I came home, showered, answered my face book messages, and went to get my shot. Since after the first chemo my white blood cells didn't respond as well as we wanted, from now on I have to get a shot the day after each treatment. Luckily, I have enough arm fat that it doesn't hurt too bad. Can you believe it? I am actually grateful for arm fat. After I got my shot, I went to Pasadena and picked up a prescription and a bathing suit. Again, more evidence that I definitely did not get enough sleep last night. Poor judgment. I picked up my friend Marcus for lunch, and went to visit my friend Jess at the salon. I got my head buzzed, went shopping at crate and barrel, got ice cream at 21 flavors (my favorite!!!), picked up Marcus again, and brought him to Simi. Then I made dinner and collapsed. Whew. I'm exhausted. So, its fair to say that I possibly did too much. And now I'm very very sleepy......wait.......and.....I'm blogging. Crap. Apparently I didn't learn from my past mistakes. As my dear pappy likes to say, you can buy 'em books and send them to school..... Better stop now. I think I am moving into my cat phase of treatment, when my schedule reverses itself. Instead of sleeping 8 hours and being awake for 16 hours in the day, I sleep for 16 hours and am awake for about 8. Yea! Ok. Seriously. Time to stop now.

This is why insomnia is bad

2008-01-18T01:57:00.000-08:00

I just signed up for facebook, and actually invited people I haven't talked to in YEARS to be my friends. I have resisted doing this for YEARS. I have avoided people I used to know for YEARS. I discovered in therapy that I tended to do this because of a stress/anxiety overload. Of course, when you lose two grandparents and a mother in three years, graduate from college, move 1500 miles away from home, go through a traumatic breakup of a church, etc....etc...all over a period of a couple of years, it can apparently cause one to hide out. So, that's what I did. After I left college, and even more so after I moved to California to go to Fuller, I slowly pushed people out of my life and sealed up the door. I didn't want anyone to know where I was or what I was doing. I wanted to disappear. I had my handsome husband inside the walls, and for a while his company alone was OK. Don't get me wrong....I went to class and talked to people and stuff....but I made no effort to make any friends beyond a basic acquaintance. But no man (nor woman) is an island, and eventually I got lonely. Considering that I easily test an ENTP(F) on a Meyers-Briggs test, one can understand why I eventually was forced to seek society. So, with some grief therapy, I eventually got better about hiding away. I still am not the best at returning phone calls nor emails....but I try much harder. It's hard to try and explain to my old friends why I ignored them for so long. Its hard to explain that I just couldn't handle friends. I was expending so much emotional energy with my grief, school, work, and husband, that I just couldn't handle authentic relationship with anyone else. So I didn't. I know it was horrible and not what a friend should do. It really hurts me to know that I hurt some of my friends when I shut them down, and I hope they forgive me for it. I don't make excuses for it, but I was surviving.

And now, of course I have cancer. One thing about cancer...its really hard to go it alone. I actually really don't want to. It makes you want to connect, both with people you love and people you used to be close to. But a burnt bridge is hard to rebuild. Especially from one end alone.

Enough. Enough musing and writing....its about as dangerous as signing up for facebook.

This is why insomnia is bad. This is why joining facebook is bad. This is why contacting people who probably couldn't care less about you is bad bad bad.

But what the heck. Supposedly big risks can result in big payoffs. Geez....being emotionally open on the internet....I'm Presbyterian for goodness sake. I must really be sick.

Is it a sign that we go to OZ?

2008-01-18T00:45:00.000-08:00

Justin and I have been talking, and we figure that since we are currently living on the West Coast, it makes sense that the next big trip we take should probably be westward as opposed to eastward. And I just found out that a cousin of mine is about to move to Australia. Plus, our friends Aaron and Fabi are living currently in Melbourne. Is it a sign? Is the land of OZ calling to us? It very well may be. I always have wanted to go there anyways. I went out on a couple of dates with an Australian once. He was nice and very funny. In fact, all the Australians I have ever met have been pretty darn nice, which seems to bode well for a visit. My favorite part of my date with him was when I asked him if Foster's was truly Australian for beer. Apparently, no. According to him, Foster's is Australian for piss. Hmmmm.... He was very adamant about it too. Oh well. Have to think about it, won't I?

It's a go

2008-01-17T17:11:00.001-08:00

First of all, I want to wish my Aunt Janet and my cousin Christopher a very Happy Birthday! Chris is a navy medic who is currently in Iraq, so I'm guessing its not his best birthday ever...but luckily he's coming home soon, and I know we are all looking forward to it, especially his mom, dad, sister and girlfriend.

I got chemo today! That's exciting because it means my counts are good. In addition, I had enough energy to play an hour of raquetball with my husband and his buddies.

I have one complaint. I thought one was supposed to lose weight when one was on cancer. Yeah. I gained 3 lbs these past 2 weeks. Of course, it is that time of the month, but come on. Oh well...I guess if I don't have the rest of the side effects, I shouldn't be bitter about not losing weight. Sigh. Guess I'll have to keep working at it the old fashioned way.

Seriously though, I am really focused on including lots of fruits and vegetables into our diet. We are really lucky living here in California because we get the best produce here. And I honestly love cooking for my husband, and he's a good eater.
Life is relatively good....and I am so grateful

I hate cleaning

2008-01-16T14:19:00.001-08:00

Some of you know me better than others, so I think before continuing with this blog I ought to disclose some things about myself. I am neither a very good organizer, nor and extremely tidy person. I have many talents, but organization is not one of them. Yet, since I am here in the house so much it would be absolutely absurd if I didn't keep it moderately clean. So, with great effort, I have been working on cleaning and organizing the condo. I spent most of Monday working on the kitchen. Did you know, its way easier if you do dishes every day as opposed to every week? Now, I am working on my closet. Part of the problem is that I wait so long to clean or organize that by the time I get around to it the problem is so massive that I get overwhelmed and I quit. Actually, that's the story of my life. I have a tendency to put off and procrastinate on things until the problem is gigantic. I do this with school, cleaning, mail, answering the phone......the list goes on and on. Part of my growth in the past year has been learning to face things headlong. It really isn't easier to bury ones head in the sand. Luckily, I didn't do this with the lump I found. Thank goodness.

It's interesting what you learn about yourself when you are left to your own devices. It seems that it is much more difficult to manage ones time when they have nothing to do than when they have tons of stuff to do. However, I am starting to get the hang of things. I find that if I let myself sleep as much as I need, I am much more industrious in my waking hours. Hopefully the next time I blog, I'll have a clean, organized living room and closet.

Tomorrow is a new chemo. I am praying that my counts are high enough tomorrow to take treatment, and that I react well to the treatment. I am remaining optimistic. Is there any other way to be? Hope to have good news for you tomorrow!

Did you miss me?

2008-01-09T17:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I guess it is unlikely that anyone is still reading my blog given that I haven't written in three weeks. Lots of stuff has happened, so I will try and catch everyone up with the latest details.

I suppose part of the reason I haven't written lately is because I've been in Dallas with my family. But mostly it was because I was kind of depressed. Three weeks ago, when I went into my scheduled treatment, I got held from taking the chemo because my counts were too low. This was unexpected, but not a disaster. Yet, in full disclosure, it brought up fears which I didn't really want to face. When you start treatment, you sort of take on this go and get 'em kind of attitude. You tell everyone, and they echo back to you, that you are going to beat this thing. So facing setbacks is difficult. The odds are that I will beat this thing, but the truth is that no one knows the future. There is no set outcome, and I have to take things one day at a time. Talking about uncertainty tends to make people uncomfortable, but I think that most patients who are facing serious illness need to talk about it. I think that anyone who faces a disease which could be terminal, has to face all the possible outcomes. That doesn't mean that I'm being negative, but it means that I know its a reality.

Upbeat enough for you? I thought so. Good news is that last Thursday my counts were fine and I was able to take treatment. From now on, every Friday after treatment I will go in and take a shot to stimulate my white blood cells. Unfortunate side effects include bone pain, but its controllable.

My spirits are relatively good. I sleep a lot, almost like a cat. I shaved my head, and if I must say so myself, I have a relatively normal shaped head. And since I have yet to lose my eyebrows and eyelashes, I don't look so bad. Growing up as a chubby child, I often heard the complement, "You have such a pretty face." And now that's finally paying off. Yes! So, enjoy the first bald pic, and please keep reading. No matter what happens, I promise I won't stay away so long from now on.

No news is good news

2007-12-18T10:20:00.000-08:00

Sorry about not blogging in a couple of days, but the main reason for that is the fact that I've been feeling pretty good. Other than pooping out a little faster than a normal 26 year old woman, everything else has been working great. Not looking forward to going to chemo on Thursday, mostly because it really stings when they stick the giant needle into my chest. Luckily that only stings for a couple of seconds. It's funny, you know, I used to never be bothered by watching someone stick a needle into my body. However, as the frequency of that event has risen in the past couple of months, I find that more and more I prefer to look the other way.

I thought I might give a little clarification as to why I am shaving my head as opposed to letting it all fall out. Part of it is selfish in that I want to avoid the trauma of having my hair come out in clumps. The other part is that I have decided to go ahead and donate my hair again. I figure that if I can't have it, someone else might as well have it. My hair under normal circumstances wouldn't be long enough to donate because one needs to have enough hair to shape into a hairdo when one normally donates hair. In my case I can cut off the hair right at the scalp, which provides more than enough hair for donation.

I don't want to come across as selfless or anything, because I'm not. I'm more practical and waste conscious than anything. I think that's the thing about living with cancer....most of the time you just live. It effects my life, but it isn't my life.

Lately I'm writing. I've always wanted to write a book and this seems like as good a time as any to try that. Besides, if I don't find some kind of creative outlet I think my brain is going to start to rot. That, and I desperately want to be able to contribute to our family. I feel like such a loser at times because I'm not working and I'm letting my husband support us both. I'm such a liberated woman that I'm depressed. It would be much easier if I could rest happy taking care of the house, my husband, and our stuffed dog Torbow. It's difficult to know that my husband makes sacrifices and doesn't have things he wants because of me. He chooses to buy the $100-a-month nausea drugs I require instead of treating himself to a new cell phone, or going skiing (something he loves). He's pretty awesome, to tell the truth. (Disclaimer: I know that there are particular ones of you out there who might read this and feel the need to send us money. DO NOT DO THAT. Resist the urge. We're ok. I promise. This is just a little pity party.)

Overall, life is very good. Someone told me several weeks ago how lucky I was that I was able to face my mortality at such a young age, and although I still shake my head at the fact that he said that, he was right in a way. Nothing makes you appreciate what you have and each day you are given like facing death. I appreciate the beauty of each day, and give thanks for all of my blessings, even when I'm a little down. In an odd way, it is a gift. Especially in a season where there is a temptation to be more emotionally swayed by the people who aren't sitting around the Christmas table than those who are there. I miss my mother every day. I probably think about her and my grandparents, at least in passing, every single day. But I refuse to give myself over to self-pity and depression, mostly because that would have made them really mad. They would have been really pissed if they saw our family moping around and not enjoying our lives. I think that they would have wanted us to remember them with smiles and laughter, and although they would have been grateful that they were so missed, they would have wanted us to be joyful.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

2007-12-12T08:32:00.000-08:00

Today is a self-imposed isolation day. It's technically the day when my immune system is the lowest, so I'll be Internet shopping and reading and, big surprise, sleeping. On the whole, I feel pretty good. Thanks to Marlene, I tried some Maalox with dinner yesterday and knocked out the nasty heartburn problem I've been having. Sometimes you just need someone to point out the obvious.

I have a couple of random points of interest I would like to bullet here. They aren't really worth a full blog in and of themselves, but are definitely worth a mention.

1. I love Craigslist. (We found a new tv for $80, and the guy threw in a stereo system to boot.)
2. Vegan cookies don't suck. I accidentally bought one yesterday (they look so normal!) and began to eat it with minor disdain. But it was pretty good. Major apologies to Jen and Jessica, my vegan cousins.
3. If you like going to craft fairs, check out this website which sells people's crafty things www.etsy.com. Definitely worth a surf.
4. I have developed a new empathy for the gastrointestinal issues of the older members of our society. So, next time an old man unabashedly passes gas right next to me in public, I will not hold my breath in disgust but breathe in with solidarity and rip one right with him.

There. I feel better getting those things off my chest.

Finally, I would like to raise some thoughts about men vs. women. Now, I am in the camp that believes that men and women are equal in their humanity but that they are not the same. I am not a guy, and I don't think like a guy. Case in point: hair loss. I have found that there is vastly different reaction from men and women when I talk about losing my hair. They guys typically say, "It'll grow back," and offer to shave their heads too. The woman react by offering to buy me cranial prosthesis (wigs) and talking about the ways to still look pretty, etc, etc. They know that even if one isn't a glamor girl, that hair loss is traumatic. Femminity has traditionally been tied to hair through the ages. A woman's hair symbolizes her beauty and fertility. When Justin and I went to the medieval torture museum in Germany, there were several displays on the torture of unchaste women. Can you guess what is one of the first things they did to punish and shame the unchaste woman? They shave her head. I could go on and cite literature and history and whatnot, but I won't. And just because we have in many ways made leaps and bounds in gender equity in the past century and we've burned our bras and made it on occasion to be ceo's and presidential nominees, that doesn't mean that we don't love our hair, or that our femininity isn't judged on it. Remember the hulabaloo when Britney shaved her head? Or the political pundits who discuss Hilary's new hairstyle. It definitely matters.

So, what's my point? I guess it is just this. Guys, I know that somewhere deep down you've been mentally preparing yourselves for baldness since you were teenagers. I realize that you can shave your heads and it be grown back to your normal length in mere weeks. And I can understand that there are probably parts of a female that you appreciate more than our tresses. But our hair is important to us. So the next time your lady spends a little too much at the salon, swallow your comments and just tell her how pretty she looks.

And we'll tell you we don't even notice that saucer sized bald spot on the back of your head. :)

Bleh

2007-12-09T17:44:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling more of the chemo today than in prior days. Fatigue. Its weird. Its kind of like having the flu without the aching. You know, that baby kitten weakness sort of thing, which not only effects your brain, but also your ability to form clearly coherent sentences. In fact, I'm being very optimistic in trying to blog. The nausea is better and I only took one pill today. My mouth is really sensitive, but I don't have any sores in it yet. I'm hoping that it doesn't get any worse. Eating is a chore. I've had a biscuit and a cup of broccoli soup today. Soup seems to be the best option. Still, overall, I am pleased with how my body is coping. It could be much worse.

My in-laws have been here since Thursday, and they've been a big help. My house is actually clean, and my closet has clothes actually hanging up in it. (They more regularly reside on the floor) I'm really glad they came. It was nice for Justin and I both.

My brain doesn't have any more coherency.

Late Night Blogger

2007-12-08T02:47:00.000-08:00

It's actually almost 3AM here in California, and for some reason I am wide awake. Part of it is because my tummy is rumbling. Not Mt. Etna rumbling, but just some minor grumbling.

Since I was awake, I thought I would blog a little bit about the chemo so far. One of the interesting things was that since it was my first day I got a bunch of gifts. Particularly enjoyable was the free blanket I received from a drug company. Sort of a "thank you for spending $3000 dollars a bag for your i.v. chemotherapy....here's a blanket that was made by child labor in Taiwan for 10 cents." Too cynical? Sorry about that. I also received a bright pink hat that has some sort of cancer slogan on it. (My sexy husband is so secure in his manhood that he actually wore it for a little :) Mind you, its very pink.) Then I got a bag of goodies from a support group which was very nice. However, it makes you realize what an intestinal affair chemotherapy must be. In the bag included 6 packages of Benefiber (yum!) a box of ex-lax, some gas-ex. Have I mentioned in this blog before that I feel really sexy? It had a book in it called "We all have blue days" or something like that. It was actually pretty cute but ironically I already own the book, so I gifted my friend Zaria (3 years) with it. Don't worry, I didn't give the 3 year old a book about cancer. Its filled with cute animal pictures.

All in all, reaction to the chemo hasn't been too bad. I've been having grumbly tummy, as previously mentioned, and mediocre appetite. My own personal nurse (Mrs. Candace Ross, thank you very much) informed me that it would me more helpful if I hadn't spent the day eating mostly dairy foods, the hardest thing for the body to digest. So, there are plans to remedy that tomorrow. Also, my scalp is already tingly and sore, so any minor, back of the head hope I had that maybe just maybe I would be the one in a million person who didn't lose her hair has kind of gone out the window.
Another fun little side effect is that I have developed some rosacea. That's right. I look like I am continually blushing/flushed. Again, Candace pronounced it normal, so I'll go with it. It's the one thing that's happened that the doctor didn't really mention. I'm not running any fevers though, and I haven't had any more hot flashes like last night. Overall, I'm pretty darn pleased with how it has been going.

Now that I'm sure that all my family and friend have way more information than they ever wanted about my bodily functions, I guess I'll go. Time to surf late night you tube. I love the internet.

A good beginning

2007-12-06T22:58:00.000-08:00

Good news so far, friends. To begin, I did not have an immediate allergic reaction to the bleomyacin, which meant I could take my entire dose. Thanks to my golden anti-nausea pills (I say golden, because they cost about $400 dollars for 3 pills. Praise God for insurance.) I only peed pink a couple of times (totally normal side effect.) I have been feeling only mildly tired and a little nauseous. It hurt a little when she stabbed me with the big needle, but other than that. On top of not feeling too nauseas or too tired, MY BACK HASN'T HURT ME TODAY!!! I know that doesn't seem like much, but I have been very uncomfortable for a while, and when it doesn't hurt me I am very very very happy.

Not to mention that Justin was totally surprised this morning when not only did he pick up his mom from the airport, but his dad too. He was so thrilled, and it just about made my day. His mom and I planned it secretly to surprise him, and it worked. So, basically God performed a miracle in making it possible for me to keep a secret.

Anyways, I'm far from out of the woods yet. Indeed, I have two-three more interesting days ahead, but I give thanks to God for this good day. Thank all of you for your prayers and thoughts. I have been reading all of your emails, even if I haven't been able to respond to them all, and I am so grateful for each and everyone of them. I feel so loved and not alone, even out here in SoCal. It's funny; yesterday I pondered whether or not I would survive the pruning. Today, I have been given such hope that I will.

Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.

A time for prunning

2007-12-06T00:05:00.000-08:00

Growing up there was a large mulberry tree on the side of our house. It was a big tree, or so it seemed to me as a child, good for climbing, playing games under, providing shade, and occasionally feeding silk worms. There are several issues with Mulberry trees, including the fact that they like to grow out horizontally, both in limb and root system. Since our tree was only 7 feet or so away from our house, this could cause problems. My dad used to periodically have to prune the tree. He would cut off many of the branches that went out horizontally in order to coax the tree to grow more vertically. This helped safeguard our roof from damage from the branches. And although we knew it was necessary, my mother and I used to groan when my dad would take his chainsaw to the tree. My dad didn't just prune; in our estimation, he butchered. The entire yard surrounding the tree would be covered in branches 2-3 feet deep. I remember us trying to tell him to stop, that he had cut enough. But he kept going. He was able to see past the half a tree lying on the ground and realize that he was doing what was necessary and right. Had my mother and I had our way, we would have let the tree damage the house.

I tell this story today because I have been thinking about pruning. There are times in life when we are pruned, when God cuts away things from us in order to give us new life. Sometimes they look green and leafy and we struggle to understand why those parts must die. Because indeed, pruning involves dying. Tomorrow I begin a journey that will hopefully mark the beginning of the death of the cancer in my body. But I sense too that during these months I will be called to let other stuff die. Some of it has begun already, including my need for control, and my pride. The pruning hurts. It's uncomfortable, and in some ways seems unnecessary. But I'm trying to trust that God knows my health better than I do. And just like that mulberry tree, I believe that this season of pruning will bring about new life and health that could not have happened otherwise.

My thoughts arose today when a friend of mine spoke about her year of resurrection...of new life. This is what I want and what I yearn for: life, new life both physically, spiritually, and emotionally. And I believe that it is coming. I just pray that I survive the season of pruning that must proceed.

A head to hang no hat on

2007-12-03T20:35:00.000-08:00

17 Days of hair and counting. I'm officially shaving my head on the 20th of December (mark your calendars). All of my experts have advised me to be proactive instead of waiting until it begins to fall out, so I will shave it off directly before we fly to Texas.

Therefore, I must begin to entertain the important questions: hat, scarf, wig, or combination platter? I've nixed the wig idea so far because I am convinced I would look ridiculous. Besides, I had a good example lain before me in my mother who never chose to wear a wig. When I suggested it to her she basically said, "I don't care if I'm bald, and if it bothers other people they can just get over it." Well put I think. So unless its an 80's hot pink rocker wig (you know, to have something for more formal occasions, i.e. Justin's company's holiday party) I will be passing on wigdom.

As for scarf vs. hat, my plan is to go primarily for hats mixed intermittently with some chosen scarves. So, in a preemptive strike, I've been scouting out hats. What I have found, however, is that the universal shopping laws have held true once again, as sure as the universal laws of gravity. (Dear science geeks, I realize that the law of gravity is not universal in that it only applies to earth. Please do not comment with lectures of E=MC^2 and whatnot. I will hurt you. This applies especially to you, Justin.) As usual, whenever one specifically needs an item such as a red blouse, a formal dress, or as in this case, a cute hat, one can almost never find something to suit. At the mall today I examined 8-9 stores for decent hats and found squat. I found crap tons of scarves and gloves, but only a moderate selection of hats. Most of the ones I did find were cute minus the poof ball on top of them. Or they looked great...with hair. Sigh. I even braved Abercrombie & Fitch and lost 10% of my hearing because I was so desperate. So, friends, romans, countrymen, find me some hats. Seriously. If you see anything cute, drop me a post. Specifically, I'm looking for some knit beanie-ish kind of hat, preferably in solids. Please. I need all the help I can get.

Lions and tigers and scrolls...oh my!

2007-12-03T07:18:00.000-08:00

I am so stinking tired.... in a good way. Yesterday was a busy day, but an exciting one. Justin and I joined our friends Gabriel and Shannon (see thanksgiving photo: particularly red-headed girl and man prostrate) in a trip down to San Diego to visit the Wild Animal Park and to view the Dead Sea Scrolls.

The animal park is an extension of the world famous San Diego zoo, and specializes in having lots of open space in which to view animals. It also has some focus on African animals. It was really neat, especially the gorillas and the baby elephants. They had 3 baby elephants, including one who was only 4 days old. Be watching Justin's site for some great pics.

Then, if that wasn't enough for one day, we then headed down to the San Diego Natural History Museum to see an exhibit of the Dead Sea Scrolls. It was fascinating to see these 2000 year old manuscripts in amazing conditions, and they included the Isaiah Scroll, Psalms, Job, and the famous copper scroll. It was a once in a life time chance to see them, so I was excited to get the opportunity.

As for the upcoming week: I've got a pulmonary test today. It is so that the doctor has a baseline of my lungs so that if in the unlikely occurrence that the chemo damages my lungs, they will know. More importantly I start chemo on Thursday. Yea. I'm actually pretty nervous about how its going to make me feel, and whether or not its going to work, and if its going to cause me irreversible harm. You know, little things. We'll just have to wait and see.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

2007-11-29T18:12:00.000-08:00

I'M SO ITCHY!!!!!!!! Seriously. If you wanted to know a little of what my life is like you should know that apparently one of the symptoms is itchiness. Also another symptom is weight loss. I've only had one of those two symptoms. Can you guess which one? Of course, I itch, and the area around where they put my port-a-catheter in is DRIVING ME CRAZY. I am going to try some benadryl and see if that helps.

That and I can't figure out how to take a shower. No, the cancer hasn't made me stupider, but the port at the moment presents a challenge. They were adamant that I cannot get the dressing wet, which is completely understandable. The nurse suggested that I saran wrap the area in order to take a shower. However, neither Justin nor I have figured out exactly how to accomplish it. The only way we can figure out to saran wrap me in order to keep my dressings dry would involve basically saran wrapping most of my torso and, of course, that defeats the point. So, I remain quite funky (smelling that is).

I'm smelly, itchy, grungy. I feel so sexy.

Results

2007-11-28T17:56:00.001-08:00

So, the port operation went well. I actually was conscious the whole time while they put the thing in. They gave me a lot of drugs to make me sleepy, but I was still awake the whole time. It's odd knowing someone is cutting you open and sticking something in your veins right on the other side of a towel. But it went really well.

Even more crucial, we got a staging today. It's not as good as we had hoped, but neither is it as bad as it could be. I've got Stage III Hodgkins Lymphoma. That means that it is in more than one place, and in more than one sector of the body. I have malignant lymph nodes in my neck, which we already knew, and also by my spleen and back. The good news is that it is neither in any organs, nor in my bone marrow. These are great things, and they keep it from being Stage IV. The bad news is that this will prolong the length of my treatment. We're looking at 6 months of Chemotherapy for sure and very likely some radiation.

How am I doing with this news? I'm fair. Not great, not terrible. Just fair. It'll get better, but the first day is the worst.

Taking a break

2007-11-28T08:50:00.000-08:00

The pet scan yesterday went really well yesterday. It wasn't bad at all. For those of your who don't know much about it, they basically had me drink some radioactive water (to make my intestines glow) and then they injected me with radioactive sugars. After they inject you, you relax in a recliner and sit very still for about an hour while watching crappy daytime cable. (OK, I'm fibbing a little there...I loved watching TLC) During that time, your cells absorb the sugars, and the ones who are working overtime take in more. Then, they put you in a tube and they measure the photons that shoot out of you as the radioactive stuff decays. This set my insurance back 3000-6000$. They must love me. However, it is the best thing to get a 3-d scan of one's body, and I am very fortunate to have insurance so that I can get it.

In other news, I basically have been temporarily suspended from my CPE duties. Apparently my supervisor doesn't feel right sending a recently diagnosed 26 year old cancer patient up on the floor to be a chaplain. I can't understand why. Seriously, though, I think that she is looking out for me, but it definitely puts things up in the air with whether I am going to finish it. We are planning to revisit my returning to work after I get a staging and begin treatment so that we can gauge how well all of that is going.

So, that means that I have lots of time on my hands. Therefore, I am taking suggestions for things I can do to pass the time. (Minus housework) Let me know what you think.

Appointments, appointments, appointments

2007-11-26T19:48:00.000-08:00

To start, I want to say that we had a wonderful thanksgiving this past Thursday. Our friends Mike and Cate came down from the bay area with their poodle, Brady. Marcus came down Pasadena. Candace, Zaria, and Nate made their way over to Simi Valley, and all of us joined Chase and Tom at Gabriel and Shannon's house for dinner. We had a great meal, and a great game of Cranium, and several bottles of wine. It was lovely. I took the opportunity to enjoy all of the holiday goodies, because I am a little nervous that it won't look so good at Christmas. Hopefully, I will be able to post our group photo sometime this week.

This week is full of appointments, and next week marks my first chemo. But first, we have a pet scan tomorrow. Then, on Wednesday, I will be getting my port-a-catheter put in, as well as meeting with my doctor. I think that when we meet with the doctor on Wednesday we will get a staging. I'm praying that we get a Stage I or II, but we won't know till then.

I am staying optimistic about it all. I hope that we get some good news, but even if we don't this thing is still beatable.

The thing that sucks today is that I am on a no-carb, no sugars, no dairy, no caffeine, no alcohol, no fruit, and no nicotine diet. Basically, I can eat dry vegetables and chicken breast. Oh yeah, and lots of water. YUM. And then I get to fast tomorrow until about 2PM. After the scan is done, I can eat whatever, until midnight. And then I will be fasting again until 2 PM on Wednesday, when my port procedure is done. This all boils down to one thing: I'M SO HUNGRY!!!! Seriously. I had to watch Justin eat one of those Little Debbie Christmas cakes, and I almost ripped it out of his hand and sucked it down whole. But luckily I am the master of will-power, so I controlled myself. :)

I'll let you know what the Pet scan was like tomorrow, so.....stay tuned!

Why "Chicken Fried Love?"

2007-11-20T10:46:00.000-08:00

If you've been reading my blog there's a good chance that you probably wondered about the name. What is Chicken Fried Love? Chicken fried love is a phrase for which I give full credit to my friend Tobi. It was born of a discussion about the relationship between food and love. You see, when women in California want to nurture, they buy. When women in Texas want to nurture, they fry. We found that for both Tobi and myself, when our grandmothers loved, they fed. It was connected to nurture and love. Hence the phrase, chicken fried love.

I named my blog this for a few reasons. The first is that I think the phrase is hilarious. The second is that I hope this blog will be nurturing and therapeutic for me. Lastly, it reminds me of my grandmother's chicken fried steak and, come on, how can that not make you happy?

My Buddy Job

2007-11-18T19:14:00.000-08:00

It always seems to go that as soon as I open my big mouth to make a claim, I am contradicted by life. I found myself assuring friends on Thursday that although things have been kind of crappy, that I wasn't in a "Job" place at the moment. I wasn't questioning God, "Why me?" I was strong, assured, faithful.

Then I went to the doctor on Friday, and by that afternoon I felt like I was Job. I found myself in the place of "why me?" There was some crying and fist shaking at the sky involved. I've had well-meaning friends tell me that all of this isn't fair, that I've had more than my share of suffering in 26 years. And I would be a huge liar if I said that the thought hadn't crossed my own mind. I can't help but imagining that my friends who are either on the fence about God, or who are total non-believers are probably thinking to themselves, "A lot of good God does you."

But in the midst of this all, even in the times of questioning, my belief in God doesn't waiver because there is no denying God once you have met the risen Christ. I am comforted that I have a God who allows me to question, to grieve, and to lament. I believe in a God who loves me and is sovereign in my life. Trust me, I wouldn't have the mental and physical strength to handle all of this without help from a higher power. (I could be WAY crazier :) ) I don't profess to understand why all of this is happening, and frankly, at the moment the why is not so important.

What I know is this. I don't have all the answers. I am not strong, nor brave, nor wise. But the mercy of it all is that I don't have to be. And that's ok.

A Beginning....or a middle.... or something

2007-11-17T17:13:00.000-08:00

So, I've decided to start a blog both for my own outlet, and as a convenient information outlet for my family and friends. One week ago, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. That's right, I have cancer. Big suck. According to my oncologist, whom I met on Friday, I've got 3-6 months of chemotherapy to come (depending on the staging of the cancer.) The good news: the outlook is good. Hodgkin's is very curable. If you've got to get a cancer, Hodgkin's lymphoma is not a bad one. On top of that, I have the most humongous support system any gal could ask for. Great family, amazing husband, and a wonderful church family. If only I could have a dog it would be perfect. The bad news: I've got chemotherapy and radiation ahead of me for months. I definitely will go bald. (there goes my supermodel aspirations). I look very bad in hats. Trust me. And I might have to quit my CPE if I am not healthy enough emotionally and physically to continue. (Not to mention, the reaction patients might have to a hairless chaplain)

I am nervous about starting treatment that I start on December 6. The doctor took a bone marrow sample on Friday, and it was horrible. When anyone talks about how bad it is, let me tell you that they are definitely not kidding. Awful. Horrible. Terrible. I hope that the chemo isn't as bad as that. Of course, there is some humor in it all. The three major side effects of this stuff includes fatigue, baldness, and nausea. A trifecta of fun for my poor husband. He'll have a bald wife who is too tired to clean (not like I do it much anyways), and who is throwing up. Did I mention that Justin hates throwing up? Seriously. It makes him ill. This is going to be a fun couple of months.

So if you are a friend, I hope you will enjoy this blog for updates. And if your a stranger....well.....hello.

Blessings