Quick chemo update and Therapeutic Thursday

Not feeling so hot today, so I shouldn't be on here too long, but I didn't want to post an update and request some prayers. I went in on Wednesday and my blood counts were really good. Even my red blood cells were in the black, which they never were ever before chemo, so that's a HUGE answer to prayer.
 
I had my second dose of Adriamycin and Cytoxin with no problems. We could, however, use your continued prayers. Jason has had a pretty high fever (102) for three days now. James is getting congested, and as an asthmatic, that's not something we take lightly with him. We've started him on his inhalers and he's not acting sick, other than the cough, so we're hoping it will turn out to be nothing. Gabby claims to have a scratchy throat, but she wanted a cough drop, so who knows ;-).

I was so tired from the meds and chemo that I neglected Therapeutic Thursday. Instead I would like to share this beautiful story someone shared with me on the condition I would keep it anonymous. Whether it took place on a Thursday or not, it is EXACTLY the type of stories I'm hoping we will all start duplicating on a regular basis.

I was at Walmart the other day picking up new sheets for [my daughter's] bed. As I'm standing in the checkout line I realize the woman in front of me has about 30 items in the speed check out. I started to get frustrated… Because what is she doing in the speedy checkout line you know? Then I realize as they're ringing up that the lady is very carefully counting and watching as the total cost. She gets very close to purchasing everything and realizes that she doesn't have enough money. I watch as this mom obviously embarrassed and her 12 or 13-year-old daughter start putting items back. Starting with a jacket for herself, two T-shirts for herself, a shirt for her daughter, and a pair of shoes for a little boy who wasn't there, I'm assuming her son and a pair shoes for her daughter. I started to get a little upset… And not really thinking about her but thinking about where I was when it was just [my daughter] and I and how hard it was to make ends meet. As the checkout lady is ringing me out I asked her how much the shoes were and both parents were just under $20 together. I purchased them left my wallet with the checkout lady so I could run and catch them before they left. As I handed the lady that bag, all I could say was "These are for you." She said "Really? Are you sure?" I said "Yes" and her. Daughter started crying...just a little. This story started out with me being frustrated because a lady in front of me had more than 10 items in the speedy checkout line and ended with me having five people waiting behind me so I could run out and bless this family and the checker. She couldn't believe what I was doing. Who in their right mind would help people like that?
My bad attitude, God's prompting and a little compassion.

Do you know what this ribbon means?

7am. Not my usual time to write a blog post, and not really a convenient one, but this post has been burning in my mind since I awoke and needs to be written before I can carry on with my day.
I received a strange Facebook message yesterday from someone I've never met. I won't go into all of it, but one part of it resonated in my mind this morning as soon as I awoke. It said: "I don't care about...your past. I don't judge." Now, mind you, rereading it now, I realize that I probably originally misinterpreted what the sender was trying to say. This is not, by any means, a complaint about the message that was sent to me. It was actually sweet and encouraging. What the above phrase did, however, was trigger a train of thought that brought about this post. Let me see if I can explain.
I awoke this morning with the realization that people I've never even met are reading my blog. I knew that already. It is nothing new, but what struck me this morning is that my journey through the darkness of my mental illness is listed on this blog, and the link to my "tales of the looney bin" blog is on here as well, leading readers to the recounting of the most challenging and shameful time in my life. As the words of the Facebook message played over and over in my mind this morning, I thought about all of my new friends, about the amazing and wonderful people I've been meeting lately, about the new opportunities that are presenting themselves to me, and I thought that perhaps I should take down the looney bin blog and delete some of the earlier posts on this one. Then I remembered...
When I was going through my dark stage, I was very frustrated by the stigma that surrounds mental illness, and on my good days, I vowed to do something about it. Mental illness is something our culture is very hush, hush about. Oh, we talk about it in the news, when someone does something terrible and tragic enough that talking about it would boost the ratings, but in our day to day life, it isn't something that is usually openly discussed. If I'm standing in line at the grocery story, a perfect stranger and I could begin talking about my cancer and no one would think twice about it. I have had many discussions with strangers about my cancer, but if I mentioned that I have major depressive disorder with reoccurring episodes and generalized anxiety disorder, the conversation would suddenly become awkward. I can talk about being hospitalized to get my boobs chopped off, but it is much more awkward to discuss last year's hospitalization for stress seizures, or my two stays in the mental hospital. Why is that? I think it's due in large part to the fact that mental illness is not well understood and still a symbol of weakness in our culture. So as much as I would love to erase that part of my life and start over with a clean slate, I cannot. I cannot because

About 11.4 million adult Americans suffered from severe mental illness in the past year and 8.7 million adults contemplated serious thoughts of suicide. Among them, more than 2 million made suicide plans and about 1 million attempted suicide. (ABC News, Mikaela Conley. Read the entire article here)

One in five Americans suffers from mental illness. One in five!! So if you take an average family, Mom, Dad, two or three kids, odds are one of you will suffer from some kind of mental illness (I know it's not that simple, with heredity issues and such, but humor me for the point I'm trying to make.) This is a huge issue, and not one to be shoved under the rug.
One of the biggest struggles for someone with mental illness is the shame that comes with it. At least it was for me. I'm hoping that by raising awareness, over time, some of that shame will dissipate.
It seems to me that people often believe those of us with mental illness cause our illness, that somehow we are to blame. There are times when this is true. Mental illness can be brought along, or exacerbated by lifestyle. This is also true of some types of cancer. Lung cancer is can be caused by smoking. I watched my grandmother die from lung cancer brought on by decades of smoking. I watched my grandfather die from COPD for the same reason, and yet, as they were dying, there was no judgement, at least not from us, about what brought them to their death bed. What is the point of beating someone up for behaviors the consequences of which they are already suffering from? So if someone is depressed because they fried their brain on some kind of drug, is it their fault? Absolutely. Do they need to be condemned for it? Absolutely not! They are suffering enough already!
Many times, however, people suffer from mental illness due to no fault of their own. Web MD has an interesting article on the causes of mental illness. As you can see in this article, most of the causes of mental illness are completely out of the control of the person suffering from it. 
So I'm leaving my blog posts up. Yes, I am mentally ill. Yes, it impacted my life and the lives of those I love severely, and sometimes, it still does. It is part of who I am, and yes, it could happen to you too.
If you are already there, in that place of shame and desperation, send me a message (There is a link to my email in my profile). I've been there. I've walked in your shoes, and I would be more than happy to listen. If you are local, I can hold you and we can cry together, and then together, we can take the next step, because I want you to know that there is hope. I want you to know that your darkness doesn't have to last forever. And I want you to know that while some may shun you for this, many of us will not. Some may not understand, but many of us do. Let's raise awareness together, and put an end to this stigma.

Oh, and by the way, silver is the color for mental health awareness. We all know what pink stands for, and most of us know what red stands for. Now you know what silver means. Spread the awareness.

Therapeutic Thursday and Baldy McSmoothy

Therapeutic Thursday has arrived once again, as it does every Thursday :-). For those of you who missed last week's blog entry and have no idea what Therapeutic Thursday is, feel free to mosey on over to this post and read all about it. In short, every Thursday, I'm trying to do something kind for a stranger and hoping to have others join along with me in this effort. Today's act of kindness was to contact a woman on Freecycle who collects clothes for women and kids in need to see if she could use some more women's clothes. Then I went through my closet and gathered all of the clothing that either doesn't fit or that I don't wear often. They are now bagged up and Jason will drop them off at the woman's home on his way to take Gabby to gymnastics tonight.
In honor of Therapeutic Thursday, I'd like to tell you about Pam LeCouvre. I have yet to meet her, but she has already blessed me tremendously. About a month ago, Jason, the kids and I went to the Chemo Teach at Sutter Gould, which is basically chemo orientation. While we were there, they showed us the hat room and told me that I could take as many hats as I wanted for free and that I could choose a blanket too. All of the hats were handmade, as were the blankets. I chose a bright colored orange, lime green and brown fleece blanket (pictured here). I LOVE that blanket! I sleep with it every night that it's cool enough. I snuggle under it while watching tv. I take it with me to chemo treatments. I just absolutely love it! In the bag the blanket came in was this card.

 

On the back were care instructions and her phone number. I tried calling her a couple weeks ago to thank her for the blanket, but the man who answered the phone said she was sleeping. I called her again today and he asked who I was. I explained it to him and he gave her the phone. I chatted with her for about ten minutes and was so encouraged and uplifted! She is a breast cancer survivor of ten years now and she makes blankets (from the sounds of it, quite a few) and gives them to cancer patients. When I spoke with her, she asked if she could pray for me, and asked me to call her back in a few weeks and let her know how I was doing. She said she was going to pray that my blood levels improve and insisted several times that I call her back so she can get an update :-). What a blessing she has been to me, a total stranger!

On a completely different note, I decided this morning that I wanted Jason to shave my head with a razor. My hair has been coming out in patches and the little "stubble" not only made hats and scarves itchy, but it was starting to make my shirts and sweaters itch too, from all the little hairs that were falling into them. So "Baldy McPatchy" morphed into "Baldy McSmoothy". Here are some pictures:

Before

Here we go!

All done!

 

Update: Chemo

I was scheduled to have my second Adriamycin and Cytoxan treatment this morning. Blood draw at 9am, then an appointment with the oncologist at 10, followed by chemo. Unfortunately, when they drew my blood and tested it, my white blood cell count was down to 1.9. Normal range is between 4.0 and 11.0 and they will not give additional chemo treatments unless the white blood cell count is at least 3.0, so I had to reschedule for next Wednesday. At that point, they will test my blood again and if my levels are ok, we can go ahead with the chemo.
From here on out, I will be getting a Neulasta shot the day after each chemo treatment to lower my chances of getting an infection. The side effect of this shot is bone pain, headaches and swelling in the arms and legs. The doctor said bone pain is the major one. Bone pain?! Really? I'm thirty-five years old. I definitely wasn't expecting to be having bone pain at my age, and to be honest, I'm not happy about it! I'm thankful that they are watching me, and making sure my levels don't drop, but I'm not thankful that I have to take my temperature every day. I'm not thankful that my bones are going to hurt. I'm not thankful that this pushes my end chemo date into mid to late August, past my sister's wedding and the beginning of school. I'm not happy that my body has reacted so severely so quickly. And to be honest, I'm scared. A few weeks into this journey, I got a "hunch", a "feeling" that I wasn't going to see my fortieth birthday. I try to write it off as a trick of an anxious mind, but when things like this happen and my body can't handle the treatment to rid itself of the cancer that is trying to take over my body, to be honest, it seems like more of a possibility. Six months ago, I felt invincible. Sure, my mind was on the fritz, but I didn't even think of cancer, or heart problems, or stroke, or anything like that. Now, I feel vulnerable and exposed. Nothing is a guarantee. I defeated the odds every step of the way with this cancer, and not in a good way. The only two things that put me at higher risk than anyone else for breast cancer were that I am a woman and that I'm white. In every other category, I was a low risk. And yet here I am, at age 35, boobless, and undergoing two different chemo regiments because, against all odds, I have breast cancer that metastasized to the lymph nodes. According to the graph my doctor gave me, based on my current treatment plan, over the next ten years, "only"10 out of 100 patients with my type of cancer who have undergone my treatment will die from the cancer. "Only"10. And that number is that low because they go through chemo. With just the mastectomy, no chemo, it grows to 17 who die from the cancer out of every hundred patients. This is MY type of cancer, stage 2, small, treatable. My cancer may be small and very "treatable" but it is cancer and it kills and it could kill me. Not pretty, but that's the reality of it, and when my white blood cell count tanks right off the bat and I have to postpone the treatment that is supposed to save my life, it makes me realize that there are no guarantees. So today, I'm mad. I'm mad because I feel out of control. I can't even decide when my treatment days will be! My body rules everything right now and it really makes me mad!
I am not, by any means, feeling defeated. I'm not going to give up the fight because of a bump in the road. This war is by no means over and I do know Who ultimately is in control of it all. Today, however, I'm taking a short break from the fight to cry, and vent and walk an angry couple of miles, because there comes a point when it all becomes too much to handle and I need a release.

Chemo Crew, Pizza and Anti-depressants

I have so much I want to write about today, I'm not even sure yet what this post will be about! Today has been so full of blessings. I started off the morning with a phone call from Bridgette Eilers, of the Chemo Crew. Bridgette is an ovarian cancer survivor who started a non-profit to help cancer patients in Stanislaus County. The Chemo Crew provides services like grocery shopping, house cleaning, lawn care, help finding free resources, one-on-one support, etc. To find out more about them, you can go to their website. I had called them a couple days ago and Bridgette was returning my call. She sounded like such a sweet lady. I can't wait to meet her in person! I found out that she has three children of her own, ages 6, 7 and 9. She will be dropping me off at my chemo appointment on Wednesday and then coming back later to sit with me for awhile and then take me home. I found out last night that Jason is going to be out of town on Wednesday all day, so having someone who can take me to and from chemo was a huge relief! I'm really excited to talk to Bridgette and find out ways that I can help out with Chemo Crew too. It's really hard for me to sit around and do nothing of value for weeks on end. Yes, I know healing from cancer is valuable, but it's not tangible right now, and feels...I don't know...boring? inconsequential? I only get one life. I don't want to sleep and puke it away. I know I can't do much right now, but maybe on my good weeks I could at least sit with chemo patients, or assemble kits, or something. One of the hardest parts about this cancer journey for me has been the lack of social contact, so I welcome any chance I have to be around other people and especially to be on the giving side of things rather than the receiving side every now and again.
After I got off the phone with Bridgette, my friend Jenni and her daughter Zoe came by, bringing us a pizza from Costco to help with dinner on those not so great days. Thank you so much, Jenni! What a thoughtful gesture!
After they left, I headed to my appointment with my psychiatrist, whom I absolutely LOVE, by the way. If you or someone you know is in need of a great psychiatrist, I highly recommend Dr. Hetnal in Modesto. 
I asked him today if I would be on my medication (Paxil) for life, or if it was a short term thing. I found his reaction kind of amusing. He looked at me with somewhat of a startled look, then said that he was really sorry, but that I would be on medications for life. He then corrected himself and said: "Well, you are the patient. You make your own treatment decisions, but you won't ever get a recommendation to go off your medications from me!" He turned my file over and read off the back: "Major Depressive Disorder with Re-occurring Episodes. No. You will need your medications for life. We won't mess around with that." He seemed apologetic about my need for lifetime meds, but to be honest, to me, it was actually a relief for a couple reasons. One, when you've walked through the darkness of deep, suicidal depression for months on end, it is not something you EVER want to have to go through again for any reason. The thought of having to wean myself off of my medication to see if I needed it was something I was really apprehensive about, and honestly was the reason I asked the question today. The second reason I found comfort in this news is that there is a part of me that still wonders if my depression was my fault. I hear over and over in my head the stinging words: "Your problem is a SPIRITUAL one! You need to focus on getting right with God. Don't contact me or my family in any way until you get right with God and get the kind of help we offered you a long time ago!" (text from a former best friend's husband right before I got on medication) or the words of the elders of church I used to attend, when they anointed me with oil both for my depression and my cancer while we were waiting for the results of the biopsy: "So you have an emotional problem and a physical one. Take your thoughts captive." "Really?" I thought. "Really? So my possible cancer is a more 'prayer worthy' illness than the depression that had ravaged my life for two years? That's supposed to be as simple as taking my thoughts captive?! Have you ever tried that one in the throes of depression? Yeah. I didn't think so." To be honest, that's probably not how he meant it, but it's how I interpreted it at the time and there is part of me that wonders if maybe my depression was because God was unhappy with me, that maybe I was at odds with him, somehow holding on to my sin, but then I remember this post I wrote back in September 2011, shortly after my first stay in the mental hospital. I remember being flat on my face before God, begging Him for deliverance, knowing that I was fully and completely surrendered to ANYTHING He wanted from me and still feeling myself swallowed by the darkness of depression. So having the doctor tell me that my illness is severe enough to require medication for life, in some ways, affirmed to me that I am not to blame for the chemical imbalance in my brain. If this imbalance is lifelong and not situational, then perhaps I didn't cause it. Perhaps my former friends were wrong.
After my doctor's appointment, I drove to Chipotle, picked up lunch for me and Jason, and took it to his office. We ate lunch together, then I headed home to pick up the kids from school.
It was so nice to be out and about and to receive the love of strangers and friends alike. I'm exhausted now, but thankful for such a good day :-).

My first Therapeutic Thursday

Today is the first Thursday since I decided to embark on Therapeutic Thursdays. I came up with an idea last night of what I wanted to do, but when I awoke this morning, I wasn't feeling well. I hoped that I could shake the fatigue and go out after a couple hours, but it didn't happen, so I shelved my original idea for a different week, and went back to the drawing board.
To be honest, I've wrestled way more with this than I needed to over the last twenty-four hours, and I found myself falling into a few traps. The main one was that I started to try to think of someone who "deserved" something special, then realized that defeated the point! I want to spread love to all, not just those who "deserve" it! I also found that the more I thought about what I wanted to do, the more I worried that people would think I was crazy, and I stressed about how I would explain why I was giving away what I was giving if I got "caught".
The act itself was completely uneventful. We had some Regal Cinemas gift cards that were given to us as a Christmas gift, but hadn't used yet. I used a blank card I had, wrote "Please enjoy a movie on us.", and enclosed the gift cards. On the way to pick up the kids, I left it in the stroller on the doorstep of a family who lives down the street from us. They have three young children, kindergarten and under. I've said hi to them many times, but have never officially met them, so they qualify as strangers ;-).
All in all, the first Therapeutic Thursday went off well. Those of you who have joined me on this adventure, please comment below with your stories. I'm hoping that we will all be inspired by what others have done, and may even get some ideas of our own from your adventures.

I'd like your help. Therapeutic Thursday

I mentioned in one of my previous posts that God is using my cancer to heal me of some past hurts. I was pondering this last night when I couldn't sleep and I came up with an idea that I'd like your help with. Let me explain how.
One of the outcomes of the two years leading up to my cancer was that I really began to believe that most people are cruel and heartless and that most of us really don't care about others. My cancer journey has helped me to realize that this is not the case. Many, many people, even perfect strangers, have shown me so much love, and I would like to take this a step further. I'm hoping you will join me.
I'm going to start Therapeutic Thursdays. Every Thursday, no matter how sick, weak, or tired I feel, I plan to intentionally show love to a stranger. The reason I decided to do this toward strangers is that I find it easy to love on the people I like. It can be much harder to do if I don't know if the person "deserves" my love or not. I've also found that some of the moments that have warmed, and healed, my heart the most have been when I've been shown love from someone who didn't even know me.
Sometimes, Therapeutic Thursday may mean paying for the coffee for the people behind me in the Starbucks line. Maybe it will come in the form of flowers and a card on the doorstep of one of my neighbors that I have never met. Perhaps I will pack a picnic lunch, head down to a park, and have lunch with a homeless person. On a cold, rainy day, I may buy an extra cup of coffee and give it to someone, with a hug. (By the way, you would be surprised how many people are receptive to hugs from strangers. It's a free way to put a smile on someone's face, but make sure you ask first, or they might call the cops ;-).) I'm hoping many of you will have your own ideas of what Therapeutic Thursday could look like. The sky is the limit, really. Every Thursday, I will blog about the experience and am hoping that many of you will jump on board and comment about your own experiences. I'd like to show the world that love still abounds and I'd like to inspire us all to make a conscious effort to spread it.
It would mean a lot to me if you would join me on this journey. Do your own deeds of kindness and comment on the Therapeutic Thursday posts with your own stories. If you would like a reminder, comment on this post and I will email or text you (whichever you'd prefer) a reminder every Thursday morning, starting tomorrow. Let's bring some smiles back into this world!

Forgive

I woke from a dream this morning, one of those mornings when I can't remember what I was dreaming, but the emotions from the dreams have lingered hours into the day. I awoke sad and so full of regret and have been wrestling with this heaviness since.
I made so many mistakes and poor choices over the last couple years. In the process, I hurt several people who were very dear to me. Some stood by me, loved me through it all, and forgave me time and again. Others did not. Throughout the healing process of the last few months, I have learned to hold to the knowledge that God's grace reigns supreme and that ultimately how others view me, what they forgive or don't, doesn't determine how worthwhile I am. I have finally reached the point where most days, I can leave the past behind with a twinge of regret and forge on ahead to better days. Some days, like today, however, my heart aches with longing for their forgiveness, for the unconditional love I so desperately sought from them and didn't receive. Why does it matter to me? Why do I care what their opinion is of me? I watched them cast other people aside, and I know that their judgment of me is not in any way an indication of my value, so why does it matter to me?!! 
The wall next to where I am typing is covered in cards and other expressions of love from people in so many areas of my life, some from people I have never even met. My husband loves me selflessly and sacrificially. My children daily show me how much I matter to them. My family has bent over backwards to show me how important I am to them. I am definitely well-loved, cherished and valued by many. So why the heaviness? The past is beyond my control. I have apologized and done everything that I know how to do to mend these relationships. The only thing I cannot do is turn back time. I cannot undo what I did. I cannot change who I was. If I could, I would, but I can't. So I sit powerless, in a lose-lose situation. There is no way that I can unring this bell. So instead, I pray. I pray that God will mend these relationships and if that is not to happen, that somehow, He will remove the pain that weighs so heavy on my heart.
Before I post this, I would like to ask a favor of you, the reader. Please, if there is someone in your life who has sought your forgiveness and you have not yet given it, don't delay anymore. And when you have forgiven them, let them know! Forgiveness does not mean restoration. There are situations where relationships should never be restored because they are harmful to the parties involved. I am not asking you to allow pain back into your life, but what I am asking is that you please grant them the forgiveness they seek. Please understand that we all make mistakes. Sometimes, we make whopper-size mistakes. You may not think it's important to let them know that you have forgiven them, and maybe it isn't, but then again, maybe it is. Maybe this is something they are still carrying with them after all this time, and knowing that they have your forgiveness may bring more peace than you could ever imagine. Please do not withhold that peace from someone when you are able to give it. Who knows? Someday, you may even be in need of some of that forgiveness yourself.

A Bald Woman's Bad Hair Day

I discovered this morning that it is, indeed, possible to have a bad hair day with no hair. I supposed, technically speaking, it would be a bad head-covering day, but as I tossed hat after scarf after hat after scarf on my bed, I didn't really care what the technical term should be. I was going to church and NOTHING looked right!!! And then the fact that my **** hair won't even actually fall out!! I pull at my peach fuzz and glare in the mirror. I step in the shower and throw fiery darts at the razor sitting there on the ledge taunting me, as if to say: "HaHA! You shaved your head ions ago. You look like a freak, and yet you STILL have to shave those legs! Haha!" Let me tell you something. When I found out I was going to for sure lose my hair, I quickly grasped onto the fact that this would mean no shaving!! WOOT! WOOT! I despise shaving. It takes so much dang time! A man has a small surface, just the face, to shave, but we women have legs that seem to extend into infinity at times as we sit there in the shower, hoping the hot water, or our patience, won't run out before we have obliterated every hairy particle from our extremities. So in comes chemo. Nausea, fatigue, mouth sores, achy bones, low white blood cell count...and NO SHAVING!!!! WOOHOO! That makes it almost worth it!...Almost, I said, but here I sit, day 10, fuzz still on my head and definitely still on my legs and I GLARE. "**** razor!" It's not the razor's fault. He is just fulfilling his duty, but I would love to put him on temporary leave of absence. Come on, already! The doc said I would lose my hair between day 7 and 14. Possibly four more days to go. I'll keep you posted.

The blessing of chemo

There is a posting dating back to 2010 on the cancer.org site that has been really inspiring to me, so I want to share it here too, in hopes that it will encourage those of you struggling with the unpleasantness of cancer treatment, or other illnesses you may be dealing with.
A woman using the sign-in name TawnyS posted in response to another woman's post about how hard the Adriamycin/Cytoxan regiment was on her. Here is what she wrote:

Reading your words takes me back to my chemo days. I tell ya, I absolutely thought that AC was going to kill me. I couldn't move, eat, even talk for days. Then as the AC built up the days I was sick added to where I just couldn't bounce back. I don't know if this will help you, but what always got me through was thinking how lucky I was to be able to receive treatment when there were so many women out there diagnosed with cancer that wasn't treatable. I always thought even though I thought my life was the absolute worst that these women would love to be in my shoes. The chance for their life to be saved. I always would think about the people that were diagnosed terminal. I kept going back for them, for my husband, for my 8 year old daughter, for my grandmother that died from breast cancer in the 70's where she didn't have a chance with the treatments they had then.

http://csn.cancer.org/node/193602

Life is a matter of perspective. Yes, chemo/surgery/radiation, etc are brutal, and yet, at the same time, they are a blessing. How many people would love to be in our shoes right now? What would people give to have access to the treatment and the potential decades more of life that we will have as a result of this grueling ordeal? So on those days when we just can't do this for us anymore, let's do this for them. Before we know it, we will be done and moving on with our lives, stronger and with a much deeper appreciation for life as a result.

I wonder...

I'm not feeling great today. To be completely honest, I'm tired of being sick. Two years fighting depression and now this cancer fight...blech. I'd like my mind and body back.
I wonder what would have happened if I had just let the cancer run its course. The doc says it was a slow growing cancer, that I probably had it in me six or seven years before we found it, and when we did find it, it was small and not fast growing. The tumor was barely over a centimeter and only a couple lymph nodes had cancer in them. I wonder how many years it would have been before I began feeling sick, and how long I could have lived with this cancer in me. Rationally, I know that going the surgery/chemo route has probably given me decades more of life, but today, I'm queasy, tired, and achy and I wish I could stop all the treatment and just, well, LIVE! I want to eat right, workout, feel good. Instead, I am a walking pharmacy, wondering what medication is causing what symptom. It's kind of ironic, really, because the only reason I feel sick right now is because of the medications, not the cancer itself. I'm trying not to count the days until this "treatment" is over, but it's dang hard not to just wish this was all over and done with. 
I wonder too about life, God, and faith. There are so many things I do not understand. I know that God is bigger than all my questions, and as I have written before, I know that He sees the whole picture and I do not. I don't understand why God created a world where there would be so much pain. I don't understand the point of life, really. There just seem to be so many unanswered questions, struggles and pain. I know the beauty of life will return. It always does, and when it does, I will breathe in deep and thank God for the easy days, and for the strength He gives for the hard ones. I just wish I understood this thing we call life better because today it is sure confusing and...heavy.

Romans 11:33-36 

Oh, how great are God's riches and wisdom and knowledge! How impossible it is for us to understand His decisions and His ways! For who can know the Lord's thoughts? Who knows enough to give Him advice? And who has given Him so much that He needs to pay it back? For everything comes from Him and exists by His power and is intended for His glory. All glory to Him forever! Amen.

 

First A/C treatment, day 5

What a gorgeous California day it is here today! I'm looking out my bedroom window at the blooming peach tree, pink blossoms waving softly against the light blue sky and suddenly the frustration of my morning doesn't seem quite so overwhelming. The cats are sitting with me on the bed, alternating between grooming themselves and sleeping. Pandora is playing soft worship music on my phone and I take a deep sigh of contentment. Odd, in contrast to my morale just a few minutes ago.
I opened the laptop a bundle of frustration. Sunday and Monday I felt SO sick! I was really queasy, and exhausted. Nothing sounded good, and when I did eat, my stomach let me know it was NOT happy with that idea! I made it to church, but as soon as that was over, I went straight to bed and slept for hours. Monday, I was really concerned about how I was going to make it through Monkey Business, the support group the kids go to in Turlock after school on Mondays. I was so tired and when three o'clock rolled around and it was time to walk the entire three blocks to the school to pick up the kids, I wasn't sure how exactly I was going to manage that. One step in front of the other, I made it, and then Pam S. came to pick us up and drove us to Turlock (HUGE thank you, Pam, for taking time out of your day for us). The nice thing about Monkey Business is that it's a support group for children who have a family member battling cancer, so no one expected me to look good, feel good, or be full of energy. I was able to close my eyes, or put my head down on the table, or whatever I needed to do during the meeting without feeling rude or disrespectful. Another beautiful thing about this group is that the parents/guardians and kids start out together and then we split into adult and kid groups and do age appropriate activities. Yesterday, the parents got to decorate cloth bags for the kids with puffy paints, markers, stamps, etc. As soon as the puffy paints came out, I literally felt my body relax. It was so therapeutic for me! Memorial Hospital has an art group I can join free of charge, but it's in the evening, and evenings just don't work very well for us because we already have something going Monday through Thursday evening. I really do need to find a creative outlet though. My mother in law and I will be taking a field trip to Hobby Lobby sometime in the next couple days to see if I can find some kind of art project to work on during chemo.
After Monkey Business yesterday, we came home, I ate dinner, then laid down on my bed to "rest" and woke up, fully clothed and half off the bed at 11:30pm. I changed into my pajamas and went right back to sleep until 5:30.
I sent an email to my oncologist yesterday asking about the nausea, because he told me that he really wanted to be on top of it so my brain didn't learn to associate chemo with nausea. He said once that happens, it's really hard to unlearn. In my email to him, I told him what I was taking and how sick I was feeling. I got an email back asking about the other med he had prescribed for me. OOPS. That one was sitting comfortably in my bedroom closet, unopened. It was supposed to be taken twice a day for the first three days, and I was at the end of day four and hadn't taken it yet. I took it as soon as I realized my oversight and have been much less queasy since.
Eating while undergoing chemo is such an odd experience for me so far. For a couple days, nothing sounded good, but today, I'm wanting things completely out of the ordinary for me. Tapioca pudding, for example. Pre-chemo, I didn't mind tapioca. I even enjoyed it sometimes, but it honestly wasn't something I thought much about. Today, though, I wanted it desperately and when we got some, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Another food oddity is mango juice. I don't like mangos. Well, pre-chemo me doesn't like mangos, but again, I was really thirsting for some mango juice this morning, so I bought some and YUM! YUM! YUM!! Right now, I'm enjoying some homemade rice pudding, freshly made by my MIL. If I keep this up, I'm going to be one of those people who gains twenty pounds while on chemo. Oh, well. If it keeps the nausea at bay and keeps me alive, I can always lose it later.
Other than the nausea, my greatest struggle has been keeping my morale up. I don't do sick well. I'm not one of those people who can just ignore how crappy I feel and carry on with life. I've tried it. It doesn't work. I end up falling apart or snapping the head off my kids and/or husband! When I can sleep my way through the illness, it helps, but on days like today, when I feel beyond tired, but can't seem to sleep, it gets really frustrating. 
In a previous post, I alluded to being in a transition stage in my life and I'm finding myself struggling with this again. I know that this chemo journey is most likely going to be for just six months and then I have the rest of my life ahead of me, but I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of that life. In the mean time, I don't have anything I HAVE to get up for. I don't have any activities to look forward to, other than church and small group. It's hard to start something when I don't feel well, and to be honest, I have no idea what I'd like to do! I've thought about writing a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" kind of book, but I'm not sure I can get my brain to cooperate well enough for that. I guess it can't hurt to try.
Let's see. What other random news can I include here? Still haven't completely lost my hair. My oncologist said it usually happens between day 7 and 14, so I expect it any time after Friday, but we'll see.
PRAISE REPORTS:
-The kids LOVE Monkey Business. James actually started talking excitedly about it over the weekend. Funny how he went from "I will absolutely not go!" to "I can't wait!". My friend Corrie's kids have also joined, which is a nice bonus.
-The sun. I am so thankful for the sun. It really helps wipe the doldrums away.
-All of the amazing help we're getting. My mom went home to Oregon a week ago, after being here for three weeks. Jason's mom arrived yesterday and will be here for...well, I don't know how long. We'll play it by ear :-). Our life group is bringing us meals every other day, which is a HUGE help! The maid my siblings hired came for the first time on Sunday and it was so nice to walk into a clean house after church. Pam took time out of her day to drive us to Turlock, and on and on and on. We are truly blessed. Thank you to all of you!
PRAYER REQUESTS
-Please pray for my friend Corrie. Her cancer journey looks like it will be a bit longer than mine. Please pray for her and her family as they continue on this journey. It's no piece of cake and can really wear on the morale of all involved.
-Please pray for my morale, that I will be able to take this step by step and not get overwhelmed by the length of the journey ahead.
-Please continue to pray for the kids. James mentioned that kids at school are asking him a lot of questions about why I'm wearing hats and things and that he doesn't know how to answer them. I spoke to his teacher and will probably be going into his classroom to do a few minute explanation of cancer, chemo and hair loss. I'm actually really nervous about that. I'm not sure how parents will feel about their kids being exposed to that reality of life in such a concrete way, but I will be communicating with the teacher to make sure it is explained in a tactful, non-scary manner. Gabby seems to be handling everything in stride, but prayers for her as well couldn't hurt.
-Please pray for Jason, as he juggles work, caregiving, parenting, etc, etc, etc.
-Please pray for my mom. It is hard for her to be so far away when I'm sick. She has been an incredible help, travelling to and from Oregon to give us a hand, but it's not the same as living nearby.
-Please pray for my mother in law, as she spends time away from her husband, daughter and grandson to help us out.

First chemo experience

Well, I did it. I went through my first chemo injection yesterday and it wasn't actually as bad as I had expected. I was in chair #2 this time, a bit disappointing because it's a corner chair, away from the fun and excitement ;-). Next time, I'm going to request a chair on the main drive, where there are more people I can talk to and interact with it. If that doesn't work, I'll unplug my machine from the wall (perfectly allowable) and mosey my way around to meet people. Might as well do something fun and productive while they attempt to save my life while dripping death into me!
I did get one fun moment while there yesterday. My friend Corrie and her Mom Mary came by and brought a gift!! Corrie is just a week post-surgery herself and will soon be joining me in the chemo chairs. I count her and her mom as one of the many beautiful gift God has given me along the journey. I am so thankful for them!
The administrations of the drugs themselves was pretty uneventful. The Cytoxin burned my nostrils a bit, but the nurse had warned me about it, so it didn't take me by surprise.
---I just handed my cat my cracker to lick. We share sometimes, and then just realized I can't do that anymore! Not while on chemo. DRAT :-(. I guess she gets the whole cracker now. She doesn't seem to disappointment about that....
Now back to my chemo recap. How I feel right now resembles a lot how I felt during the first trimester of my pregnancies. Queasy, lethargic, melancholic, mild, dull headache and exhausted! Did I mentioned I didn't care for pregnancy? Yeah. Not caring for this much either. A couple symptoms I didn't have with pregnancy and that I will be bringing up with the doc are muscle spasms (those returned last night). Since the neurologist thinks my first episode with major muscle spasms was stress induced, I would say that fits the bill in this instance, but if they return again tonight, I'll mention them to the doc. The second thing is mental confusion. I had two full conversations with James yesterday, only to find out he wasn't actually in the room and I was talking to myself! And I can't seem to keep track of what day and time it is. I really have to focus to remember what day it is. I'm also struggling with feeling blue. I wouldn't qualify it as depression. I'm not suicidal or anything. Just down, wondering how I'm going to make the most of this for the next SIX MONTHS! But then, six months is only two-thirds of a pregnancy and I made it through one of those twice. I bet I'll be ok :).