No news is good news

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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?"

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

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

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