Jack is becoming very independent. He will start climbing the stairs, turn around, point to me, and say, "Stay here, mom!" He wants to go up without any help from me.
He is also becoming very sneaky. He says, "Stay here, mom" if he is doing something he shouldn't be and doesn't want me to see it. Thankfully I am on to that little bugger.
We just got back from a wonderful week at St. Simons. We were walking around at the restaurant where we were eating while we waited for our food. Jack pointed at me and said, "Stay here, Mom" because he wanted to walk on the deck by himself. As I watched him walk up, I was smiling at his new phrase. It got me thinking.....
Stay here, mom.
My doctors told me that my boys saved my life. But let me digress a little....
When I turned 30, I was sad. I was sad because I wasn't married and wasn't anywhere close to being a mother. That month was tough for me. My desire to be a wife and mother was so strong. I was jealous of woman who didn't want to have kids. I tried not to want it so much, but it was in there. There were many nights crying on my couch because I ached for a husband and children.
I spent a lot of time praying over the next few years. I knew God put that desire in my heart so I finally realized I had to trust Him. I had to trust that He had a plan for me and that plan included a family. I don't remember if I read it or someone said it to me, but it went something like this. "While you are waiting for your mate, prepare yourself to meet him. He has not found you yet because he has not matured fully to be worthy of you. So do what you have to do to be worthy of him!" I really liked that. So I started "working" on myself. I found a wonderful bible study. I attended church more regularly. I started doing things that I talked about, but was waiting to do them with that special someone. I went White Water Rafting. I went to the movies by myself. I went out with friends. Basically, I became comfortable with myself and grew physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
It took awhile, but I finally met my husband when I was 35 and we married when I was 36. We waited six months and tried to start a family. It wasn't happening. We went to a fertility doctor. We tried Clomid. We tried numerous artificial inseminations. We decided to take the plunge and try IVF. That didn't work. We tried again - and it worked! 5 months after our son was born, we did another IVF and now have two beautiful boys.
My breast cancer was hormonally fueled. I was pumped full of hormones before each IVF attempt. And then, of course, your hormones run rapid while being pregnant. When I went to my OB when I was 11 weeks pregnant, she did a breast exam. There was nothing there. Jason found the lump when I was 20 weeks pregnant. In 8 weeks, it grew to be 6 cm. My pregnancies caused the cancer to grow fast, but because it grew fast, we caught it early.
I certainly don't have this all figured out, but this is where I am at today. I ABSOLUTELY do not believe that God gave me cancer. That lovely thing called free will is to blame. I believe it is something in this world that we have created, thinking it is helping us out, that contributed to it. I picture Him up there reviewing my life. He sees that cancer is coming. So He does what He can to help.
He makes sure that Jason and I don't meet until I am older. I have to be older so that I have difficulty getting pregnant. I have to have difficulty getting pregnant so I seek out help. The first IVF had to fail because this body needed lots and lots of hormones in a short amount of time. We had to do 2 more IVFs for even more hormones. And they had to be so close together. I needed an unusually large amount of hormones so the tumor would grow fast so we could find it sooner. If we hadn't of done all of those things, we may have found it too late.
I will be here to watch those sweet boys grow up. I will be here to continue to work on myself and try to be the best daughter, sister, aunt, wife, and friend I can be.
So, yes, Jack, I will stay here. I will stay right here because God sent me you to save my life. I will stay here and love you more than you could possibly ever know.
#fancer
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Sex Saved My Life
When I was first diagnosed, friends suggested that I blog about it. It was too much for me to think about at that time. I was pregnant, I had a 1-year-old, and I was trying to process the fact that I had cancer. I did start emailing friends and family to keep them abreast (pun intended) of everything. But once the bad treatment was over, blogging seemed right. But I never blogged about my diagnosis because there was too much stuff going on right then and my diagnosis days seemed so long ago.
Recently, though, it seems that I am asked more and more how I found out I had cancer, and what kind did I have, and what treatment did I do, and how many rounds, and when did I lose my hair, etc, etc, etc. So here it goes:
One day, we were having sex.....LOL. I laugh, but Jason is the one who found my lump. He mentioned it casually that he had felt something under my right breast. I felt it too, but I was pregnant. My breasts were changing. I did call my OB and, since I had an appointment the next week, they said they would check it out then. My OB said it was pregnancy related. Women's breast become lumpy during pregnancy and to not worry about it. And I didn't, BUT it was there in the back of my mind. I would feel it in the shower. So 2 weeks later, I asked her to look at it again. She said she would send me to a breast specialist so they could tell me it was nothing and ease my mind.
We went and saw Dr. Corgan. She is one of the most wonderful, caring, compassionate, and funny women I know. She checked me out and immediately sent me for a mammogram. I think we chose to believe that this was routine. So we weren't freaking out. Two days later, I went back to see Dr. Corgan for a biopsy. We scheduled an appointment in 7 days to go over the results. We still weren't freaking out, but started to worry. We went to the lake and tried to have fun, but every night, we stayed awake talking about it. There is no cancer on either side of my family. My grandmother, mother, and sister have all had lumps biopsied and they were all benign. That is what was going to happen to us.
Well, as you know, that didn't happen to us. We went back for our results (May 31, 2012) and we started a journey we never imagined we would be taking. I was 25-weeks pregnant at this time and that was all I could think about. Why was this happening now?
Murphy's Law - my hair was the longest it had been since high school. Jack and I surprised Jason with pictures for Father's Day. This was 3 days after I was diagnosed. I cut it short and donated 8 inches to Pantene pretty soon after this was taken.
On June 7, I had a lumpectomy and sentinel lymph node surgery. I wasn't scared of the surgery itself, but I was scared for my baby and scared for the results. This is where we find out if it had spread or not. They removed the tumor (6 cm) and we got great news - it had not spread! That meant I would not have to do chemo, only radiation! I think I asked Jason 6 times to repeat it. I also asked him if he was just telling me that so I wouldn't be upset. I guess it just seemed too good to be true.
My final diagnosis was Hormonally Fueled Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Stage II. On July 11, I went and had genetic testing done. The results - it was not genetic, but I was HER2 positive. What does that mean? I had the marker that meant it was more likely to come back and now I had to do chemo. We would start chemo 3 weeks after the baby came.
We met with Dr. Houck who would be putting in my port on August 8. That was all the cancer stuff until after the baby was born.
My sweet baby boy was born on August 27, 2013, and we tried very hard to just enjoy his yumminess and not think about what was going to happen soon.
On September 13, my port was put in and I had to stop breast feeding. I think I was most mad about that. You can have my hair and put me down for the count, but don't take that away from my baby.
I had my first out of 6 rounds of chemo on September 17, 2012. I received 3 different drugs (Herceptin, Carboplatin, and Taxotere) and it took 6 hours. I won't go into how those drugs made me feel. My friend came to stay with the boys all the way from CT and helped keep my spirits up.
On October 5, I had a Clip and Sip. I woke up and my hair was really coming out so I emailed friends very last minute to come drink and shave my head! Friends showed up in crazy wigs, brought cheese and wine, we ordered pizza, had some drinks, put the boys down, and we shaved my head....except for a mohawk. When in life can you sport a mohawk?
My best friend came for my 2nd round of chemo on October 8 and shaved off the hawk. It was almost a relief to just have it done. I was fine for a couple of days. Then as I was getting in the shower, I really looked at myself and had a good cry in the shower.
I had my third round on October 29th, and my sister came to help out that week. I ended up back at the hospital with dehydration and weight loss of 9 pounds in 4 days. Thank goodness she was there to take care of my boys for me.
I had a mammogram on November 14th and they found spots. Really?! Worried for a week. Worried because if it was cancer, it was a different kind since I was getting chemo already. Biopsy scheduled for the 20th. Couldn't even find the spots to biopsy it. They dug around and made me cry out in pain, but I wanted them to find it and take it out! The spots were gone by my next mammogram.
Fourth round on November 19th and fifth on Dec. 10.
I had my last round on Monday, December 31, 2012. I was done! It didn't come out as clear or as cute as I wanted it to, but here we are after my last round was administered.
On January 22, 2013, I started just going in for Herceptin. Herceptin is the drug that targets my exact cancer. It only takes an hour and no bad side effects. I will continue that every 3 weeks until September. I have to get an ECHO every 4 months because one of the side effects of Herceptin is heart problems. Fun times.
Radiation started on February 4, 2013. I did 33 days in a row minus weekends. That brought redness, itching, raised bumps, soreness, and EXHAUSTION. My last one was on March 20 - the first day of spring. Here I am ringing the bell that all survivors ring when they finish radiation.
On Easter Eve at midnight, we went to the ER because I was having chest pains. They kept me overnight and did multiple tests, but they could find no reason for the extra heartbeats. More fun times.
I started taking Tamoxifen in April. I will take that every night for at least 5 years. The fun fact about Tamoxifen - one of the side effects (albeit small) is uterine cancer. Really?!?
I should get my last dose of Herceptin on September 9 (9/9). Every last treatment has had a significant date:
-last round of chemo - New Year's Eve
-last radiation treatment - first day of spring
-last round of Herceptin - 9/9 (9 is my favorite number)
Not sure what that means, but for some reason it makes me feel good.
My hair is growing and I have my first hair appointment post chemo on July 11.
It has been a crazy year. Early detection was key as was wonderful doctors, friends, and family. It has been a roller coaster of a ride- fear, excitement, laughing, crying, and physical changes. And to think it all started with a roll in the hay.
So go tell your spouse you love them and have lots of sex! It just might save your life.
Recently, though, it seems that I am asked more and more how I found out I had cancer, and what kind did I have, and what treatment did I do, and how many rounds, and when did I lose my hair, etc, etc, etc. So here it goes:
One day, we were having sex.....LOL. I laugh, but Jason is the one who found my lump. He mentioned it casually that he had felt something under my right breast. I felt it too, but I was pregnant. My breasts were changing. I did call my OB and, since I had an appointment the next week, they said they would check it out then. My OB said it was pregnancy related. Women's breast become lumpy during pregnancy and to not worry about it. And I didn't, BUT it was there in the back of my mind. I would feel it in the shower. So 2 weeks later, I asked her to look at it again. She said she would send me to a breast specialist so they could tell me it was nothing and ease my mind.
We went and saw Dr. Corgan. She is one of the most wonderful, caring, compassionate, and funny women I know. She checked me out and immediately sent me for a mammogram. I think we chose to believe that this was routine. So we weren't freaking out. Two days later, I went back to see Dr. Corgan for a biopsy. We scheduled an appointment in 7 days to go over the results. We still weren't freaking out, but started to worry. We went to the lake and tried to have fun, but every night, we stayed awake talking about it. There is no cancer on either side of my family. My grandmother, mother, and sister have all had lumps biopsied and they were all benign. That is what was going to happen to us.
Well, as you know, that didn't happen to us. We went back for our results (May 31, 2012) and we started a journey we never imagined we would be taking. I was 25-weeks pregnant at this time and that was all I could think about. Why was this happening now?
Murphy's Law - my hair was the longest it had been since high school. Jack and I surprised Jason with pictures for Father's Day. This was 3 days after I was diagnosed. I cut it short and donated 8 inches to Pantene pretty soon after this was taken.
On June 7, I had a lumpectomy and sentinel lymph node surgery. I wasn't scared of the surgery itself, but I was scared for my baby and scared for the results. This is where we find out if it had spread or not. They removed the tumor (6 cm) and we got great news - it had not spread! That meant I would not have to do chemo, only radiation! I think I asked Jason 6 times to repeat it. I also asked him if he was just telling me that so I wouldn't be upset. I guess it just seemed too good to be true.
My final diagnosis was Hormonally Fueled Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Stage II. On July 11, I went and had genetic testing done. The results - it was not genetic, but I was HER2 positive. What does that mean? I had the marker that meant it was more likely to come back and now I had to do chemo. We would start chemo 3 weeks after the baby came.
We met with Dr. Houck who would be putting in my port on August 8. That was all the cancer stuff until after the baby was born.
My sweet baby boy was born on August 27, 2013, and we tried very hard to just enjoy his yumminess and not think about what was going to happen soon.
I had my first out of 6 rounds of chemo on September 17, 2012. I received 3 different drugs (Herceptin, Carboplatin, and Taxotere) and it took 6 hours. I won't go into how those drugs made me feel. My friend came to stay with the boys all the way from CT and helped keep my spirits up.
On October 5, I had a Clip and Sip. I woke up and my hair was really coming out so I emailed friends very last minute to come drink and shave my head! Friends showed up in crazy wigs, brought cheese and wine, we ordered pizza, had some drinks, put the boys down, and we shaved my head....except for a mohawk. When in life can you sport a mohawk?
My best friend came for my 2nd round of chemo on October 8 and shaved off the hawk. It was almost a relief to just have it done. I was fine for a couple of days. Then as I was getting in the shower, I really looked at myself and had a good cry in the shower.
I had my third round on October 29th, and my sister came to help out that week. I ended up back at the hospital with dehydration and weight loss of 9 pounds in 4 days. Thank goodness she was there to take care of my boys for me.
I had a mammogram on November 14th and they found spots. Really?! Worried for a week. Worried because if it was cancer, it was a different kind since I was getting chemo already. Biopsy scheduled for the 20th. Couldn't even find the spots to biopsy it. They dug around and made me cry out in pain, but I wanted them to find it and take it out! The spots were gone by my next mammogram.
Fourth round on November 19th and fifth on Dec. 10.
I had my last round on Monday, December 31, 2012. I was done! It didn't come out as clear or as cute as I wanted it to, but here we are after my last round was administered.
On January 22, 2013, I started just going in for Herceptin. Herceptin is the drug that targets my exact cancer. It only takes an hour and no bad side effects. I will continue that every 3 weeks until September. I have to get an ECHO every 4 months because one of the side effects of Herceptin is heart problems. Fun times.
Radiation started on February 4, 2013. I did 33 days in a row minus weekends. That brought redness, itching, raised bumps, soreness, and EXHAUSTION. My last one was on March 20 - the first day of spring. Here I am ringing the bell that all survivors ring when they finish radiation.
On Easter Eve at midnight, we went to the ER because I was having chest pains. They kept me overnight and did multiple tests, but they could find no reason for the extra heartbeats. More fun times.
I started taking Tamoxifen in April. I will take that every night for at least 5 years. The fun fact about Tamoxifen - one of the side effects (albeit small) is uterine cancer. Really?!?
I should get my last dose of Herceptin on September 9 (9/9). Every last treatment has had a significant date:
-last round of chemo - New Year's Eve
-last radiation treatment - first day of spring
-last round of Herceptin - 9/9 (9 is my favorite number)
Not sure what that means, but for some reason it makes me feel good.
My hair is growing and I have my first hair appointment post chemo on July 11.
It has been a crazy year. Early detection was key as was wonderful doctors, friends, and family. It has been a roller coaster of a ride- fear, excitement, laughing, crying, and physical changes. And to think it all started with a roll in the hay.
So go tell your spouse you love them and have lots of sex! It just might save your life.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Recalculating
One year ago today, my doctor said, "It is cancer" and everything changed. It has been a roller coaster of a year. It is still so surreal that I had breast cancer. Yes, HAD. I asked my oncologist when my scan would be - the scan where you are deemed cancer free. She said I would not be doing one because, when I had the lumpectomy and we found out it hadn't spread, I was cancer free. I find out I have cancer and within 2 weeks, I didn't. Too bad it didn't end there. I had an operation to put my port in, 6 rounds of chemo, trips to the ER, weight gain, weight loss, heart scares, baldness, radiation, rashes, burns, exhaustion, depression, anxiety, fears, and general ickiness. Like I said, quite a year.
But I have also had a wonderful year. The birth of my second child, an outpouring of love and support from friends in the form of gifts, emails, texts, cards, food, childcare, prayers, and friendship. Jason and I have cried, but have laughed much more. There have been arguments stemming from our fears and exhaustion, but there has been much more laughter and hugs stemming from love. There have been many runs to the bathroom, but many more runs when Jason calls me to see what cute things the boys are doing.
As crazy as it sounds, when I look back on this past year, I feel mostly happy. First and foremost, I am alive. I am alive to watch my boys grow. When I look back, I think about the fun and giggles. I have to conscientiously think about the bad. And there was a lot. Maybe that is annoying to some people, but that is how I am. It has taken me a while to get that way, but it has certainly helped me these past few years. As I said in a previous post, I was tired of feeling sad and mad. So I stopped and surrounded myself with people who make me happy and grateful. Maybe God had a hand in that also. He knew it would serve me well this past year to think that way.
I am hoping it continues to help me as I struggle now with assimilating back into life. I read a blog months ago before I started radiation. She explained that the effects of chemo and radiation will linger on for months. I read it thinking that wouldn't be me. It is.
My GPS will start saying "recalculating, recalculating" when I go down a different road than the original route said to take. Wouldn't it be nice if life had something like that? Because this certainly is not the road I thought I was going to take.
Chemo brain is no joke. I have stared at a friend trying to recall their name. A name I have used hundreds of times. I have always been forgetful, but it is ten times worse. I am tired all the time. And I am scared and out of sorts.
When you are first diagnosed and start your treatment, everyone is there. The support is wonderful. The compassion is awesome. But then it is gone. Before my journey, I didn't realize that just because treatment was done, the ickiness wasn't. It is no fault of anyones, but after all the outpouring of love and support, it is hard when it abruptly stops.
I am not the same Dawn I was a year ago. I hope I am a better one, but the jury is still out. I am trying to figure out who I am post diagnosis and treatment. I think friends just want to see me well and happy so that is what they see. But I am not there yet.
I have been out and about and thought, "I am so jealous of all these people. They aren't holding in screams and anger towards cancer and death!" It doesn't happen often, but enough.
I have panic attacks. Events will trigger thoughts of my boys growing up without me. I played in a softball tournament Mother's Day weekend. It is named after two gentlemen who have passed away. I looked at the banner with their names on it and pictured my name after theirs. Then I freak out and wonder why that thought even was in my head. A little while later, one of my teammates tells me his wife passed away from breast cancer. I am on the pitcher's mound and I feel like I am going to throw up. It took me a good minute to calm my breathing and stop the spinning.
Most of the time though it comes in happy times. When I am bathing the boys and we are all laughing and I am so unbelieveably happy. The next minute I am picturing them without their mother. It is such a strong feeling that it scares me. I feel light headed and sick.
I thought about death before my diagnosis. Do you know that country song that goes "I hope you get the chance to live like you are dying"? I have thought about that song often and tried to remember that. But there is NO way you can unless it is staring you in the face. And it stares me in the face every day and I am trying really hard not to stare back.
I hope I get to the point where I am not so scared or not so tired or not so not myself. I am ready to live this next year laughing and enjoying my family and friends. When you see me out and I am smiling and laughing, that is real. But underneath that is lurking some ickiness and leftover effects from cancer. So if I get quiet, know that something is tugging at me to go down a road I don't want to go down. If you feel inclined, remind me of my blog. Remind me to stand up and raise my head. Raise my head above all this ickiness and get back to living. But watch out, you might get some tears and a really good hug.
But I have also had a wonderful year. The birth of my second child, an outpouring of love and support from friends in the form of gifts, emails, texts, cards, food, childcare, prayers, and friendship. Jason and I have cried, but have laughed much more. There have been arguments stemming from our fears and exhaustion, but there has been much more laughter and hugs stemming from love. There have been many runs to the bathroom, but many more runs when Jason calls me to see what cute things the boys are doing.
As crazy as it sounds, when I look back on this past year, I feel mostly happy. First and foremost, I am alive. I am alive to watch my boys grow. When I look back, I think about the fun and giggles. I have to conscientiously think about the bad. And there was a lot. Maybe that is annoying to some people, but that is how I am. It has taken me a while to get that way, but it has certainly helped me these past few years. As I said in a previous post, I was tired of feeling sad and mad. So I stopped and surrounded myself with people who make me happy and grateful. Maybe God had a hand in that also. He knew it would serve me well this past year to think that way.
I am hoping it continues to help me as I struggle now with assimilating back into life. I read a blog months ago before I started radiation. She explained that the effects of chemo and radiation will linger on for months. I read it thinking that wouldn't be me. It is.
My GPS will start saying "recalculating, recalculating" when I go down a different road than the original route said to take. Wouldn't it be nice if life had something like that? Because this certainly is not the road I thought I was going to take.
Chemo brain is no joke. I have stared at a friend trying to recall their name. A name I have used hundreds of times. I have always been forgetful, but it is ten times worse. I am tired all the time. And I am scared and out of sorts.
When you are first diagnosed and start your treatment, everyone is there. The support is wonderful. The compassion is awesome. But then it is gone. Before my journey, I didn't realize that just because treatment was done, the ickiness wasn't. It is no fault of anyones, but after all the outpouring of love and support, it is hard when it abruptly stops.
I am not the same Dawn I was a year ago. I hope I am a better one, but the jury is still out. I am trying to figure out who I am post diagnosis and treatment. I think friends just want to see me well and happy so that is what they see. But I am not there yet.
I have been out and about and thought, "I am so jealous of all these people. They aren't holding in screams and anger towards cancer and death!" It doesn't happen often, but enough.
I have panic attacks. Events will trigger thoughts of my boys growing up without me. I played in a softball tournament Mother's Day weekend. It is named after two gentlemen who have passed away. I looked at the banner with their names on it and pictured my name after theirs. Then I freak out and wonder why that thought even was in my head. A little while later, one of my teammates tells me his wife passed away from breast cancer. I am on the pitcher's mound and I feel like I am going to throw up. It took me a good minute to calm my breathing and stop the spinning.
Most of the time though it comes in happy times. When I am bathing the boys and we are all laughing and I am so unbelieveably happy. The next minute I am picturing them without their mother. It is such a strong feeling that it scares me. I feel light headed and sick.
I thought about death before my diagnosis. Do you know that country song that goes "I hope you get the chance to live like you are dying"? I have thought about that song often and tried to remember that. But there is NO way you can unless it is staring you in the face. And it stares me in the face every day and I am trying really hard not to stare back.
I hope I get to the point where I am not so scared or not so tired or not so not myself. I am ready to live this next year laughing and enjoying my family and friends. When you see me out and I am smiling and laughing, that is real. But underneath that is lurking some ickiness and leftover effects from cancer. So if I get quiet, know that something is tugging at me to go down a road I don't want to go down. If you feel inclined, remind me of my blog. Remind me to stand up and raise my head. Raise my head above all this ickiness and get back to living. But watch out, you might get some tears and a really good hug.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Strength and Power
My sister decided that after her first body building show, she was going to do a photo shoot. She was going to do this for herself. She wanted pictures to show the hard work and sacrifices that she made to get where she was today. Then she got an idea and emailed the photographer to see if he would be willing to do it. I will let the video speak for itself.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6Yob1eEWrc
Isn't my sister amazing?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6Yob1eEWrc
Isn't my sister amazing?
Thursday, May 2, 2013
A Letter to My Mother
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| Mom and Jack |
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| Me, Mom, and Charlie |
My mother just left after a wonderful visit. As I watched her with my boys, I wondered if being with them made her think of my brother....
When I was little, I thought a lot about my brother who passed away. He was 3 months old when he died from SIDS. I am not sure why I thought about him so often, but I did. He would have been 14 months older than me. Maybe that is why. I felt a bond with him, even though I never met him. But I talked to him and prayed to God to watch over him. I would think about what it would have been like if he was alive. I liked to think that we would have been best buds and that I would have followed him around everywhere.
As I have mentioned before, when something makes me sad or scares me, I roll it around in my head until I figure it out. Until I figured out why my stomach is going and how to make it stop. My 11-year-old self knew enough that having your baby die was bad. But that 11-year-old couldn't comprehend the depth of that pain. I couldn't articulate what I was trying to figure out. So I internalized it and "figured" that when a baby is that little, you didn't have enough time to bond and love it so maybe it wouldn't hurt that bad. I significantly remember being in my bedroom and coming up with this. That is what my little brain came up with so I wouldn't have to think about my parents and big sisters in pain. That scared me and kept me up at night so my defense mechanism kicked in and came up with something that made sense to me at the time.
Fast forward to the birth of my son. Oh, how that 11-year-old Dawn was wrong. The love I felt for that little guy the moment I saw him was bigger than I could have imagined. The weeks that followed were filled with happiness and love, but also tons of worry. Was he breathing? Was he growing? Was he okay? I remember being in my kitchen and realizing that he was 3 months old. The age my brother died. And I just broke down and cried. I loved that boy beyond measure and our bond was strong after only three months. How did my mother get over losing her baby boy? How did she not wake up every morning aching to hold that sweet boy? How did she not break down when she thought of his face and his adorable laughter?
I don't know how she kept going, but she did. She had my 2 older sisters to take care of and, 2 months later, I was starting to grow in her stomach. I have never asked my mother about that time. I have talked to my older sister. She said she still remembers the sound my mother made when she went in to wake up my brother from his nap and found him. I cannot even imagine. When talking about this with friends, I cannot even finish the sentence "And she went in to wake him up...." without crying. And crying hard. How do you get past that?
As I have gotten older, I think about that and I realize that how I had "figured" it out in my head was wrong. So-far-from-the-truth wrong.
Despite that horrible loss, my mother kept going. She was silly with us. She let us do her hair and makeup. She let us use pens on her and draw on every inch of her body. She had 2 more babies. She gave each of us 4 girls great Christmases. One of my favorite memories growing up was cuddling with my mother. It always seemed to be just me and her. Maybe my sisters were with us, but all I remember is my mother's soft hand rubbing my cheek. My point is that she gave us all extra love and attention. She gave us a wonderful childhood. Who wouldn't have blamed her for only doing what she had to do to take care of us? No one. But she chose to keep going. And keep going positively.
You hear stories about people who are never the same. They stop living and laughing and loving. I can understand that now. Losing someone you love is horrible. Losing a baby is doubly horrible.
So, thank you, Mom, for getting up every day even though you must have wanted to stay under the covers and hide. Thank you for filling my childhood with laughter and fun. Thank you for never once turning your hurt on us. Thank you for raising your head and showing us that life goes on. Thank you for doing things with us that I now do with my sons because they were so great. Thank you for fighting the feelings and memories that had to be there every day and choosing to love on us instead of succumbing to the hurt. I love you.
Now that I am a mother, I do understand. This 41-year-old can imagine the awfulness that follows the death of a child. I can imagine what it took to keep going every day. I can imagine that the pain never goes away. That pain becomes who you are. You wake up and it takes your breath away when you remember. That doesn't ever go away. But you have a choice: stop living or grow from the experience. My mother chose the latter.
So although my 11-year-old self couldn't articulate what I was feeling, I hope this 41-year-old has...
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Chemo/Radiation Baskets
I have finally begun the arduous task of getting our house back in order. I have always joked that I have OCD enough to be annoying, but not enough to go on drugs. Before pregnancies, babies, and cancer, I could not sit down until the room I was in was clean and organized. The rug had to be parallel with the couch and all things had to be in their place. Then I got pregnant and I didn't feel well. Then I had a new baby to love on. That was much more fun than cleaning. Then we were pregnant again and the ickiness came back. Then cancer, then another baby, then chemo, etc, etc, etc. Of course, I have 2 boys to play with so, most of the time, my project of the day gets put aside so that I can play cars and enjoy peek-a-boos. But I am slowly getting things back in their correct places.
I found all my cancer stuff and put it in a box. I am 41-years-old and I know that, as I get older, more of my friends and family will be touched by cancer. I hate that and it gets my stomach going, but it is a fact. So, I put it in a box to open up when I get that call telling me someone I love has cancer. I will pull out my box, open some old wounds, and figure out what I can do to help.
I started a document in my computer on what I had in my "chemo bag" and what helped me the most while going through chemo and radiation. Then it hit me - I should blog about this. I am sure most people are at a loss as to how to help. I know my friends were not. I was truly blessed with all the help, gifts, and prayers. Because of their great gifts and gesture, I can blog about this.
So here are some things that I appreciated while going through my treatments. I am very conscience of making my post as short as possible as I know I don't like to read them if they are too long. But I think this is something you will skim, log away in your brain, and come back to when you need it. (Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author's and are not intended to imply that every person would enjoy these things.) :-)
Chemo Gifts - In no particular order:
* A WARM FUZZY BLANKET (most treatment rooms are cold and I felt like I was being hugged every time I snuggled under it)
* SMALL PILLOW (mine had a beautiful bible verse on it. It was nice to nap when I was able)
* A BAG OF HARD CANDY - (I could taste one of the drugs as it went through my IV and it wasn't good. Having a piece of candy to suck on helped tremendously.
* BIOTENE MOUTHWASH - (My sweet friend showed up with what she called her "F*&^ Cancer Basket". Besides some awesome wigs, she had Biotene in it. When going through chemo, your mouth becomes very dry. The normal acid is depleted. That moisture/acid is important to break down plaque. Some patients lose their teeth! Can you imagine?! The doctors NEVER told me about this so am so grateful for this gift.)
* TOOTHBRUSHES - (Because of our immune systems, bacteria is bad! I changed my toothbrush every Sunday night.)
* HAND SANITIZER - (Our immune systems are compromised so we must wash our hands constantly.)
* LIP BALM
* MIRALAX - (Yes, probably TMI, but we need it!)
* HIGH PROTEIN FOODS - (peanut butter, nuts, etc) My friend showed up with 7 pints of Ben and Jerrys. Thank you, L! The week before chemo, I had ice cream every day. One night, I had it for dinner. Jason raised his eyes at me and I said, "I start chemo in a few days, I am eating ice cream." I gained 7 pounds in one week and was prepared for those drugs.
* STRESS BALL - (If you don't have a port, you need to build up your veins)
* AVEENO PRODUCTS
* FLAVORED WATER PACKETS - (It is important to drink lots of water, but it tasted like metal. These packets made it taste sweet.)
* CUTE HATS - (My sister showed up with all kinds of hats from Charming Charlie and I LIVED in those things.)
* MEALS!!!!!! - (I gained weight during chemo because, except for one treatment, my appetite was pretty good. Not having to cook helped me tremendously. I had out-of-town friends order takeout for us. How thoughtful. I never thought of that.)
* PRAYERS - I know they worked, I felt them, and they were very appreciated.
* There is a service that will come and clean your house, once a month, for 3 months while you are going through chemo. It is called Cleaning For A Reason. At first, I felt weird using them, but they were WONDERFUL! They cleaned my house, asked me how I was, interacted with my babies, and just made me feel special. Print out the information and give to your friend. There is also a service that will do your lawn and many other great services.
* GOOD PEDICURE/MANICURE - `(Because of possible infection due to bacteria, only a good pedi/mani is suggested. So a great gift would be one from Sanda Gane or Macys or a similiar salon.)
Radiation Gifts - In no particular order:
* AQUAPHOR BY EUCERIN - (Again, wasn't told about this amazing stuff by the doctors, but by my chemo sister. Thank you, S! This will help with blistering, rashes, and discoloration. I had a small sample size that I took with me. Before getting dressed, I applied. I really believe that is why my skin did so well.)
* COMFY SPORTS BRAS - (You are not supposed to wear wire during treatment.)
* PRAYERS!!!
Those are just some suggestions for things to get someone. If you are more of a doer, then here are some things you can do: (Again, just what helped me.)
* Go to treatment with them. It was suggested to have someone different come with you every time. I did that and it made it fun. And just like I said before, don't say, "Let me know if you want me to come with." Say, "What day should I come with you?"
* Go to their initial doctor appointments with them and take notes. It is overwhelming to be told you have cancer and then they start throwing medical terms and options and it makes you want to curl up and cry. Be their brains and ask the questions.
* If they have children, show up and entertain them so they can sleep. This was wonderful as I was exhausted.
* If it is your thing, offer to help wade through all the medical bills, EOBs, and information.
* Send cards, words of encouragement, bible verses, texts that make you laugh, etc.
* Did I mention meals? :-)
* I had a friend fly here from CT and help out during my first round. Not only did she love on me and my boys, she wrote little notes on sticky notes and stuck them up around my house. That was amazing.
* My sister also flew here and took over my role as mom during my third round. It was not a good round and I ended up back at the hospital for fluids. Knowing she was taking care of my boys, made it easier to relax and get the help I needed. I still don't know what I would have done without her.
* My best friend came for my second round and shaved off the remainder of my hair. Something you can only ask your best friend. She helped me finish Charlie's room and gave me some much needed girl time. She wasn't able to come to my Clip and Sip Party when we did my mohawk so she and her son sent a picture in bandanas to show their support. Something so little, but meant so much.
Every thing that was made for me or done for me was the perfect equation for my healing. I had friends show up and help, I had friends bring food and gifts, I had friends text me, I had friends send cards, I had friends send emails, and I had literally thousands of friends praying for me. It all helped. So do what you do best. From the words of my friend, Elaine, I will do....so that...will happen. No matter how little you think it is, what will happen is make them feel better, it will make a difference, and it will help.
And I will finish off with some dos and don'ts:
Don't tell a cancer patient a story about someone you know that lost their fight with cancer. (You are probably shaking your head in disbelief, but it happened to me all the time and still does.) We are scared and don't need to be reminded that we could die. But do tell us the good stories. The stories of people who fought and are still living. We NEED to hear that.
Don't think we don't want to hear about things that are going in your life. I had a friend say that she felt that her "stuff" was so trivial compared to mine. First of all, it is all relative. So talk to us. We need that normalcy. Do tell us what your wacky kids have done or how your husband is driving you crazy. Life goes on and we need to be reminded of that.
Don't wait for us to ask for something. Even if we realize what we need, our chemo brain will make us forget it! Do show up and just do. Just do their dishes. Just do their laundry. Just straighten up. Just show up with a funny movie and laugh together. Kidnap them and take them for a drive.
Don't hold back on how you are feeling. Some of the most therapeutic conversations I had started off with, "I am so angry" and "WTF!" Before all of this, I used to think I had to find the perfect words to help someone. Now I realize - just talk. Do tell them that you are scared. Do tell them you are angry. Do tell them you love them. Do tell them you are there. Just talk.
I found all my cancer stuff and put it in a box. I am 41-years-old and I know that, as I get older, more of my friends and family will be touched by cancer. I hate that and it gets my stomach going, but it is a fact. So, I put it in a box to open up when I get that call telling me someone I love has cancer. I will pull out my box, open some old wounds, and figure out what I can do to help.
I started a document in my computer on what I had in my "chemo bag" and what helped me the most while going through chemo and radiation. Then it hit me - I should blog about this. I am sure most people are at a loss as to how to help. I know my friends were not. I was truly blessed with all the help, gifts, and prayers. Because of their great gifts and gesture, I can blog about this.
So here are some things that I appreciated while going through my treatments. I am very conscience of making my post as short as possible as I know I don't like to read them if they are too long. But I think this is something you will skim, log away in your brain, and come back to when you need it. (Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author's and are not intended to imply that every person would enjoy these things.) :-)
Chemo Gifts - In no particular order:
* A WARM FUZZY BLANKET (most treatment rooms are cold and I felt like I was being hugged every time I snuggled under it)
* SMALL PILLOW (mine had a beautiful bible verse on it. It was nice to nap when I was able)
* A BAG OF HARD CANDY - (I could taste one of the drugs as it went through my IV and it wasn't good. Having a piece of candy to suck on helped tremendously.
* BIOTENE MOUTHWASH - (My sweet friend showed up with what she called her "F*&^ Cancer Basket". Besides some awesome wigs, she had Biotene in it. When going through chemo, your mouth becomes very dry. The normal acid is depleted. That moisture/acid is important to break down plaque. Some patients lose their teeth! Can you imagine?! The doctors NEVER told me about this so am so grateful for this gift.)
* TOOTHBRUSHES - (Because of our immune systems, bacteria is bad! I changed my toothbrush every Sunday night.)
* HAND SANITIZER - (Our immune systems are compromised so we must wash our hands constantly.)
* LIP BALM
* MIRALAX - (Yes, probably TMI, but we need it!)
* HIGH PROTEIN FOODS - (peanut butter, nuts, etc) My friend showed up with 7 pints of Ben and Jerrys. Thank you, L! The week before chemo, I had ice cream every day. One night, I had it for dinner. Jason raised his eyes at me and I said, "I start chemo in a few days, I am eating ice cream." I gained 7 pounds in one week and was prepared for those drugs.
* STRESS BALL - (If you don't have a port, you need to build up your veins)
* AVEENO PRODUCTS
* FLAVORED WATER PACKETS - (It is important to drink lots of water, but it tasted like metal. These packets made it taste sweet.)
* CUTE HATS - (My sister showed up with all kinds of hats from Charming Charlie and I LIVED in those things.)
* MEALS!!!!!! - (I gained weight during chemo because, except for one treatment, my appetite was pretty good. Not having to cook helped me tremendously. I had out-of-town friends order takeout for us. How thoughtful. I never thought of that.)
* PRAYERS - I know they worked, I felt them, and they were very appreciated.
* There is a service that will come and clean your house, once a month, for 3 months while you are going through chemo. It is called Cleaning For A Reason. At first, I felt weird using them, but they were WONDERFUL! They cleaned my house, asked me how I was, interacted with my babies, and just made me feel special. Print out the information and give to your friend. There is also a service that will do your lawn and many other great services.
* GOOD PEDICURE/MANICURE - `(Because of possible infection due to bacteria, only a good pedi/mani is suggested. So a great gift would be one from Sanda Gane or Macys or a similiar salon.)
Radiation Gifts - In no particular order:
* AQUAPHOR BY EUCERIN - (Again, wasn't told about this amazing stuff by the doctors, but by my chemo sister. Thank you, S! This will help with blistering, rashes, and discoloration. I had a small sample size that I took with me. Before getting dressed, I applied. I really believe that is why my skin did so well.)
* COMFY SPORTS BRAS - (You are not supposed to wear wire during treatment.)
* PRAYERS!!!
Those are just some suggestions for things to get someone. If you are more of a doer, then here are some things you can do: (Again, just what helped me.)
* Go to treatment with them. It was suggested to have someone different come with you every time. I did that and it made it fun. And just like I said before, don't say, "Let me know if you want me to come with." Say, "What day should I come with you?"
* Go to their initial doctor appointments with them and take notes. It is overwhelming to be told you have cancer and then they start throwing medical terms and options and it makes you want to curl up and cry. Be their brains and ask the questions.
* If they have children, show up and entertain them so they can sleep. This was wonderful as I was exhausted.
* If it is your thing, offer to help wade through all the medical bills, EOBs, and information.
* Send cards, words of encouragement, bible verses, texts that make you laugh, etc.
* Did I mention meals? :-)
* I had a friend fly here from CT and help out during my first round. Not only did she love on me and my boys, she wrote little notes on sticky notes and stuck them up around my house. That was amazing.
* My sister also flew here and took over my role as mom during my third round. It was not a good round and I ended up back at the hospital for fluids. Knowing she was taking care of my boys, made it easier to relax and get the help I needed. I still don't know what I would have done without her.
* My best friend came for my second round and shaved off the remainder of my hair. Something you can only ask your best friend. She helped me finish Charlie's room and gave me some much needed girl time. She wasn't able to come to my Clip and Sip Party when we did my mohawk so she and her son sent a picture in bandanas to show their support. Something so little, but meant so much.
Every thing that was made for me or done for me was the perfect equation for my healing. I had friends show up and help, I had friends bring food and gifts, I had friends text me, I had friends send cards, I had friends send emails, and I had literally thousands of friends praying for me. It all helped. So do what you do best. From the words of my friend, Elaine, I will do....so that...will happen. No matter how little you think it is, what will happen is make them feel better, it will make a difference, and it will help.
And I will finish off with some dos and don'ts:
Don't tell a cancer patient a story about someone you know that lost their fight with cancer. (You are probably shaking your head in disbelief, but it happened to me all the time and still does.) We are scared and don't need to be reminded that we could die. But do tell us the good stories. The stories of people who fought and are still living. We NEED to hear that.
Don't think we don't want to hear about things that are going in your life. I had a friend say that she felt that her "stuff" was so trivial compared to mine. First of all, it is all relative. So talk to us. We need that normalcy. Do tell us what your wacky kids have done or how your husband is driving you crazy. Life goes on and we need to be reminded of that.
Don't wait for us to ask for something. Even if we realize what we need, our chemo brain will make us forget it! Do show up and just do. Just do their dishes. Just do their laundry. Just straighten up. Just show up with a funny movie and laugh together. Kidnap them and take them for a drive.
Don't hold back on how you are feeling. Some of the most therapeutic conversations I had started off with, "I am so angry" and "WTF!" Before all of this, I used to think I had to find the perfect words to help someone. Now I realize - just talk. Do tell them that you are scared. Do tell them you are angry. Do tell them you love them. Do tell them you are there. Just talk.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Extra Heartbeats
There are moments in life when your heart beats an extra beat. The reason for these extra heartbeats can be good and they can be bad. Some of the reasons for a good extra heartbeat for me was when Jason asked me to spend the rest of his life with me. When we heard the news we had been waiting to hear for years - you are pregnant. And lately, when my boys look at each other and just start laughing or when I am downstairs cleaning up dinner and hear Jason reading to his sons on the baby monitor. These are good reason for my heart to beat extra.
Then there are the bad reasons. When we got the call from our fertility doctor after our first IVF attempt and he said, "I am sorry, but the transfer didn't take." The phone call telling me that one of my best friends was killed in a car accident. Hearing the words "It is cancer". There have been many times in my life that my heart has skipped a beat because of bad news and then caught up by beating an extra beat.
On Easter Eve of this year, I don't know why my heart was beating extra. All I know is that my chest hurt and it scared me. The drug that I will continue for a full year is Herceptin. I have to get an ECHO every 4 months because one of the side effects of this drug is heart problems. So Jason and I are in bed and it is 10 PM and my heart just felt weird. I don't want to say chest pains and I don't want to say chest heaviness because that doesn't quite describe it. It just didn't feel right. So at midnight when Jason turned to me and asked if it was time to go to the ER, I couldn't say yes, but more importantly, I couldn't say no. We called our doctor's office and the NP advised us to go to the ER. Really?!?
So we called my mother-in-law and asked her to come over. We dressed. Made sure we had our insurance cards. I kissed the boys and off we went. On the drive there, my heart really started jumping because now I was scared. All I could think was, "Really? After everything that has happened in the last 9 months, I know am heading to the ER because of my heart!?!"
We get there and as soon as they found out I was doing chemo, I was whisked back to a room where they do an EKG. The extra heartbeats were there on the machine. I go back to a room and we start the tests. And the whole time I am hooked up to a machine that is monitoring my heart. Jason is freaking out and I am just mad.
Any time I am wheeled off for a test, they give me a mask. I understand that this is for my protection and because my immune system is still compromised, this is the smart thing to do.......but it makes me feel like a patient. I have been feeling so good lately. The mask is just another reminder that I have cancer and it makes me even angrier.
All the tests come back in a positive manner and they only thing left is a stress test. They suggest I check in the hospital and get it done. Now comes the tears. It is officially Easter now and I want to be home with my boys. The baskets are out, our Easter outfits are pressed, and I want to go home! After calming down, we realize that we are lucky in that they don't know what Easter is yet. We can give them their baskets later in the day and they won't know the difference. I don't like it, but decide to stay.
Jason heads home and I get wheeled up to my own room. Long story short, they suggest I get a stress test later in the week, but want to draw my blood two more times to check the enzymes ( I thing that is right) and if it comes back negative (which is good), then I can go home. So at 12 noon on Easter day, I am finally driving home.
I had my stress test on Friday and nothing showed up. The doctor said that my extra heartbeats are benign and I should only be concerned if they happen and I feel faint. All this worry for a week and that is what I get as an explanation. Of course, I realize this a good news, but uggghhh!!!
I guess this is just a reminder that my life of being a patient is not going to end just because the main part of my treatment is over. I will always be a patient and cancer will always be in my vocabulary. I don't like it and I am still fighting it. Hopefully I will accept that soon. It will only make things easier. I am not the same person I was before my May 30th diagnosis. I hate that, but it is true. I sure hope this gets easier.
In case you were wondering, we put out the Easter baskets about 7 PM that night. Jack walked in and his eyes got big when he saw the cars and school bus in his basket. He got very excited and yelled, "School bus!" And my eyes watered and my heart skipped a beat and, this time, those extra heartbeats were welcomed.
Then there are the bad reasons. When we got the call from our fertility doctor after our first IVF attempt and he said, "I am sorry, but the transfer didn't take." The phone call telling me that one of my best friends was killed in a car accident. Hearing the words "It is cancer". There have been many times in my life that my heart has skipped a beat because of bad news and then caught up by beating an extra beat.
On Easter Eve of this year, I don't know why my heart was beating extra. All I know is that my chest hurt and it scared me. The drug that I will continue for a full year is Herceptin. I have to get an ECHO every 4 months because one of the side effects of this drug is heart problems. So Jason and I are in bed and it is 10 PM and my heart just felt weird. I don't want to say chest pains and I don't want to say chest heaviness because that doesn't quite describe it. It just didn't feel right. So at midnight when Jason turned to me and asked if it was time to go to the ER, I couldn't say yes, but more importantly, I couldn't say no. We called our doctor's office and the NP advised us to go to the ER. Really?!?
So we called my mother-in-law and asked her to come over. We dressed. Made sure we had our insurance cards. I kissed the boys and off we went. On the drive there, my heart really started jumping because now I was scared. All I could think was, "Really? After everything that has happened in the last 9 months, I know am heading to the ER because of my heart!?!"
We get there and as soon as they found out I was doing chemo, I was whisked back to a room where they do an EKG. The extra heartbeats were there on the machine. I go back to a room and we start the tests. And the whole time I am hooked up to a machine that is monitoring my heart. Jason is freaking out and I am just mad.
Any time I am wheeled off for a test, they give me a mask. I understand that this is for my protection and because my immune system is still compromised, this is the smart thing to do.......but it makes me feel like a patient. I have been feeling so good lately. The mask is just another reminder that I have cancer and it makes me even angrier.
All the tests come back in a positive manner and they only thing left is a stress test. They suggest I check in the hospital and get it done. Now comes the tears. It is officially Easter now and I want to be home with my boys. The baskets are out, our Easter outfits are pressed, and I want to go home! After calming down, we realize that we are lucky in that they don't know what Easter is yet. We can give them their baskets later in the day and they won't know the difference. I don't like it, but decide to stay.
Jason heads home and I get wheeled up to my own room. Long story short, they suggest I get a stress test later in the week, but want to draw my blood two more times to check the enzymes ( I thing that is right) and if it comes back negative (which is good), then I can go home. So at 12 noon on Easter day, I am finally driving home.
I had my stress test on Friday and nothing showed up. The doctor said that my extra heartbeats are benign and I should only be concerned if they happen and I feel faint. All this worry for a week and that is what I get as an explanation. Of course, I realize this a good news, but uggghhh!!!
I guess this is just a reminder that my life of being a patient is not going to end just because the main part of my treatment is over. I will always be a patient and cancer will always be in my vocabulary. I don't like it and I am still fighting it. Hopefully I will accept that soon. It will only make things easier. I am not the same person I was before my May 30th diagnosis. I hate that, but it is true. I sure hope this gets easier.
In case you were wondering, we put out the Easter baskets about 7 PM that night. Jack walked in and his eyes got big when he saw the cars and school bus in his basket. He got very excited and yelled, "School bus!" And my eyes watered and my heart skipped a beat and, this time, those extra heartbeats were welcomed.
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