That's what I meditated on today when I did my yoga, but choosing to be calm and peaceful is harder than you'd think. I don't feel stressed out but I know I am...does that even make sense? I think it's the prozac. Running helps a little, yoga helps a little, staying busy helps a little, hugging my kids and husband helps a little. Maybe all the little bits will add up to calm and peaceful.
We did get an appointment at Emory, and thankfully we don't have to wait too long to see the doctor. The appointment is on the 21st. I was really surprised to get in so soon. It's nice to have that piece done.
This is my 300th post. I wish I didn't have this blog, I wish I didn't have to post a 300th post, but I hope it's helpful for someone. As always, if you are reading and feel this would be a help to anyone, please pass it along. I remember feeling so alone when I was diagnosed. Even on the internets, there wasn't much out there for a 32 year old with rectal cancer. I know there are several blogs now, which is both good and bad. Telling our stories is important, and that's one of the reasons I keep blogging here. That, and the fact that fucking cancer won't leave.
Thank you for thinking of my family, of my kids, and for the thoughts and prayers for me.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Ugh, complicated
Why is it so complicated to SEND RECORDS?? Eric has been communicating with Emory, and they are still waiting for parts of my medical records. I completely don't understand why they don't have the whole shebang, because I'm positive that's what my Columbus doc has. My file is like two inches thick there. How could the colonoscopy report or the chemo notes be missing? Ugh.
Anyway, the ball is rolling, and records have been requested. I actually spent about an hour (maybe more?) tonight going through my stack of stuff, marking things with post-it notes, in case we need to just send things ourselves.
It was weird reading through the doctors' notes and surgery notes and stuff. There were things that I'd forgotten, things that I remembered a little differently, and I don't know. Weird. It's like reading a book about yourself. All my doctors said that I'm a pleasant patient. Awwwww.
I'm impatient. I want to get the treatment done and move on with my life. The waiting is the worst, knowing that while we're waiting, stupid cancer is growing. I hate that.
Anyway, the ball is rolling, and records have been requested. I actually spent about an hour (maybe more?) tonight going through my stack of stuff, marking things with post-it notes, in case we need to just send things ourselves.
It was weird reading through the doctors' notes and surgery notes and stuff. There were things that I'd forgotten, things that I remembered a little differently, and I don't know. Weird. It's like reading a book about yourself. All my doctors said that I'm a pleasant patient. Awwwww.
I'm impatient. I want to get the treatment done and move on with my life. The waiting is the worst, knowing that while we're waiting, stupid cancer is growing. I hate that.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Tears
There are so many different kinds of tears. I have cried happy tears and sad tears and frustrated tears and angry tears in my life. Last night my tears were angry. Angry because of the unfairness of everything. Angry at the injustice of the world.
I realize that life isn't fair. Lots of times bad things happen for seemingly no reason. I feel that I have quite a handle on what fairness means, and that fair for one person doesn't equal fair for another. I get it. At least I think I do.
I also get that it's okay to mourn change, that it's okay to feel sad that some things in my life are never ever going to be the way they were. Some of those changes don't bother me. Some of those changes are frustrating and irritating and lead me to angry tears.
I don't want to get stuck in the longing to have things returned to the way they were. I really don't. I'm working hard to continue to change the things I can and to accept the things I can't change. But I think once in a while, it's okay to just cry and mourn and be angry.
Stupid cancer. I miss the days before it was on my radar. I miss the days before it affected my family. I miss the days before it made me cry. Stupid stupid cancer.
I realize that life isn't fair. Lots of times bad things happen for seemingly no reason. I feel that I have quite a handle on what fairness means, and that fair for one person doesn't equal fair for another. I get it. At least I think I do.
I also get that it's okay to mourn change, that it's okay to feel sad that some things in my life are never ever going to be the way they were. Some of those changes don't bother me. Some of those changes are frustrating and irritating and lead me to angry tears.
I don't want to get stuck in the longing to have things returned to the way they were. I really don't. I'm working hard to continue to change the things I can and to accept the things I can't change. But I think once in a while, it's okay to just cry and mourn and be angry.
Stupid cancer. I miss the days before it was on my radar. I miss the days before it affected my family. I miss the days before it made me cry. Stupid stupid cancer.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Something to Think About
More and more, as we now know that we'll be working to kick cancer in the ass (lungs? heh) again, people have asked what they can do? What do we need? How can they help? I think I speak for both Eric and myself when I say that for the last few weeks, we've been in shock, and we've just assured everyone that we're fine right now. And we really ARE. However, I can tell that many people are anxious to help in some way, and want to do SOMETHING. That's what is so great about our family and friends, they are such action oriented people.
Eric and I talked for a long time last night about all this. We were unsure about posting about this lest it be seen as a greedy grab for stuff. The last thing we want is stuff. If I could have three wishes, they wouldn't involve stuff at all. However, we know there are people who want to help, and are feeling helpless because of physical distance or because they just don't know what to do.
First and foremost, all we really ask for or desire is your continued thoughts, prayers, positive energy, kind words, encouragement, and support. When someone shares with me that I am on a prayer chain or that they have been thinking about me, it just means so much. I really believe that positive support is important.
Secondly, cancer affects us all. If you don't have it, you know someone who does. It sucks no matter who has it or what the circumstances. If you feel led to do something with your pocketbook, we'd like to suggest some ideas. Please consider a donation to the American Cancer Society. Better yet, find out where the cancer centers are in your community and find out their financial needs. I don't know if everyone knows this, but I started running a handful of months ago. If you're so inclined, find a charity 5K walk or run in your area and enter, or volunteer to help out. Every little bit helps, it really does.
Thirdly, our family. I think this part is the hardest. We've decided to go to Atlanta for a second opinion, so it's forseeable that we'll have some driving in our future. When I'm on chemo, it's so difficult for me to care for my family, to cook for them especially. When the kids spend time in the car, or time with a sick mom at home, there are things that could make it easier for them. Again, we are NOT EXPECTING ANYTHING except prayers, thoughts, and continued support. Really. However, if you feel led to help our little family in some way, here are some things we thought of that would make a difference to us:
**gas cards
**restaurant or grocery gift cards
**amazon.com or barnes and noble gift cards so we can purchase books on CD or educational DVDs for the kids
I can't stress enough that your prayers, positive thoughts, and support are the most important thing you could ever do. Absolutely the most important.
Eric and I talked for a long time last night about all this. We were unsure about posting about this lest it be seen as a greedy grab for stuff. The last thing we want is stuff. If I could have three wishes, they wouldn't involve stuff at all. However, we know there are people who want to help, and are feeling helpless because of physical distance or because they just don't know what to do.
First and foremost, all we really ask for or desire is your continued thoughts, prayers, positive energy, kind words, encouragement, and support. When someone shares with me that I am on a prayer chain or that they have been thinking about me, it just means so much. I really believe that positive support is important.
Secondly, cancer affects us all. If you don't have it, you know someone who does. It sucks no matter who has it or what the circumstances. If you feel led to do something with your pocketbook, we'd like to suggest some ideas. Please consider a donation to the American Cancer Society. Better yet, find out where the cancer centers are in your community and find out their financial needs. I don't know if everyone knows this, but I started running a handful of months ago. If you're so inclined, find a charity 5K walk or run in your area and enter, or volunteer to help out. Every little bit helps, it really does.
Thirdly, our family. I think this part is the hardest. We've decided to go to Atlanta for a second opinion, so it's forseeable that we'll have some driving in our future. When I'm on chemo, it's so difficult for me to care for my family, to cook for them especially. When the kids spend time in the car, or time with a sick mom at home, there are things that could make it easier for them. Again, we are NOT EXPECTING ANYTHING except prayers, thoughts, and continued support. Really. However, if you feel led to help our little family in some way, here are some things we thought of that would make a difference to us:
**gas cards
**restaurant or grocery gift cards
**amazon.com or barnes and noble gift cards so we can purchase books on CD or educational DVDs for the kids
I can't stress enough that your prayers, positive thoughts, and support are the most important thing you could ever do. Absolutely the most important.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Good news and Bad news
The good news is...I lost six pounds!!! whoooohhooooooo!!!!!
The bad news...there's cancer in my lungs.
I don't know, it sounded funny in my head. And if you can't laugh, well, I've really had enough crying (though it doesn't take much these days to get me started).
Anyway, Eric and I went to see my doctor today to review the PET scan and talk about what to do. The PET lit up the spots in my lungs, so sadly, they are not some rogue fungus or anything other than cancer. We discussed a biopsy, which the doctor feels is unnecessary. He is 90% sure we are dealing with mets from the rectal cancer. Surgery at this point isn't an option. I can, however, have any kind of chemo I want! Well, fuck yeah!!!!
Um. Not really. The reason I'm okay for whatever chemo is because I have some wild cancer cells and not mutated cells. Apparently there was a test of my rectal tissue after surgery, so although I didn't get to see my hacked out rectum, it was tested. Wild cancer cells are better than mutated ones as they tend to respond better to chemo.
Up until now I have been just a little unsure of the doctor. He did something really cool though, he told us we always have the option to get a second opinion, and he knows of a very good hospital (Emory) in Atlanta, he knows a doctor there who specializes in colorectal issues. He even checked to see if there were any clinical trials I could get in on. And he gave me an awkward hug before I left. Awwwwww.
Eric and I decided before we saw the doc that we'd be seeking a second opinion, but we've really always talked about going that route if this whole cancer thing got more serious. Our doctor here said that if the doctor at Emory suggested a treatment that could be done at Regional here in Columbus, that the doctors and hospitals could certainly work together.
Do I feel better? Meh. I mostly just feel sad that I have cancer in the first place. It sucks. But you play the hand you're dealt, I guess. I'm sure there are more technical things about this...perhaps I'll ask Eric to post something on caring bridge for you technical types. Or you know, feel free to ask questions.
The bad news...there's cancer in my lungs.
I don't know, it sounded funny in my head. And if you can't laugh, well, I've really had enough crying (though it doesn't take much these days to get me started).
Anyway, Eric and I went to see my doctor today to review the PET scan and talk about what to do. The PET lit up the spots in my lungs, so sadly, they are not some rogue fungus or anything other than cancer. We discussed a biopsy, which the doctor feels is unnecessary. He is 90% sure we are dealing with mets from the rectal cancer. Surgery at this point isn't an option. I can, however, have any kind of chemo I want! Well, fuck yeah!!!!
Um. Not really. The reason I'm okay for whatever chemo is because I have some wild cancer cells and not mutated cells. Apparently there was a test of my rectal tissue after surgery, so although I didn't get to see my hacked out rectum, it was tested. Wild cancer cells are better than mutated ones as they tend to respond better to chemo.
Up until now I have been just a little unsure of the doctor. He did something really cool though, he told us we always have the option to get a second opinion, and he knows of a very good hospital (Emory) in Atlanta, he knows a doctor there who specializes in colorectal issues. He even checked to see if there were any clinical trials I could get in on. And he gave me an awkward hug before I left. Awwwwww.
Eric and I decided before we saw the doc that we'd be seeking a second opinion, but we've really always talked about going that route if this whole cancer thing got more serious. Our doctor here said that if the doctor at Emory suggested a treatment that could be done at Regional here in Columbus, that the doctors and hospitals could certainly work together.
Do I feel better? Meh. I mostly just feel sad that I have cancer in the first place. It sucks. But you play the hand you're dealt, I guess. I'm sure there are more technical things about this...perhaps I'll ask Eric to post something on caring bridge for you technical types. Or you know, feel free to ask questions.
Monday, January 31, 2011
I'm Sick
One of my biggest fears about the future is going through chemo again. It made me feel just so terrible, and I wasn't able to take care of my family. It was one of the worst things I've gone through in my life. I've felt so healthy and good for so long, I just couldn't imagine feeling nauseous and sick.
Then over the weekend I came down with some wacky stomach virus. I think our entire family got it to some degree, but it hit me the worst. I spent most of the day Sunday in bed. Ugh.
So all this time I've been stressing about not being able to do chemo again, to not be able to deal with being so sick again. But you know, I think I can do it. I think I'll be okay. If I was able to power through making the kids breakfast this morning, I think I can do it when I'm sick with chemo too. I don't want to, but if I have to I can.
It's amazing what one can do when they have to, isn't it? You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only thing you can do.
Then over the weekend I came down with some wacky stomach virus. I think our entire family got it to some degree, but it hit me the worst. I spent most of the day Sunday in bed. Ugh.
So all this time I've been stressing about not being able to do chemo again, to not be able to deal with being so sick again. But you know, I think I can do it. I think I'll be okay. If I was able to power through making the kids breakfast this morning, I think I can do it when I'm sick with chemo too. I don't want to, but if I have to I can.
It's amazing what one can do when they have to, isn't it? You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only thing you can do.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
PET Scan Day Today
It went fine. I mean, as fine as being injected with radioactive crazy material, laying in a dark room for an hour with nothing to do, and then laying in a scanner for 25 minutes. Oh yeah, and being freaking hungry. It is so much easier to do a test earlier in the morning.
And hey, anyone know why they won't let me listen to music while I'm waiting for the radiation juice to travel around my body? I should have asked the tech.
Oh and why must the chair you have to sit in be so uncomfortable?
Anyhoo, now more waiting.
How am I doing? Better. Really. I can talk about all this shit now without crying (most of the time). It's sinking in, I'm getting ready to deal with it. Not that I *want* to deal with it, but you know. You gotta do what you gotta do.
And maybe the prozac is kicking in and helping me to feel more zen about things.
At any rate, I'm hanging in there. Hopefully the doc has a master plan for us next week!
And hey, anyone know why they won't let me listen to music while I'm waiting for the radiation juice to travel around my body? I should have asked the tech.
Oh and why must the chair you have to sit in be so uncomfortable?
Anyhoo, now more waiting.
How am I doing? Better. Really. I can talk about all this shit now without crying (most of the time). It's sinking in, I'm getting ready to deal with it. Not that I *want* to deal with it, but you know. You gotta do what you gotta do.
And maybe the prozac is kicking in and helping me to feel more zen about things.
At any rate, I'm hanging in there. Hopefully the doc has a master plan for us next week!
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