Sunshine in April

Tuesday.  February 20.  Chemo day.  My mom’s birthday.  Today would have been my mom’s 70^th birthday if she were still alive.  April 13 will be the ten-year anniversary of her death.  I was in NC the summer of 2007 when her biopsy came back positive for cancer.  Just ten years and two months before my own cancer diagnosis.  My mom had a lump on the side of her neck, which was found to be a secondary cancer, meaning they had to figure out what the primary cancer was.  When a cancerous tumor is found, it is sometimes the primary cancer like mine or it can be a secondary cancer.  Secondary cancers mean that the primary cancer has metastasized, or spread to somewhere else in the body.  Secondary cancers indicate more advanced cancer stages.  I was able to go with my mom to one of her early appointments where I asked the doctor lots of Qs.  I wish I had those notes now that I understand them more.  And, I wish I could have been there with her through treatment.  Having a 3 year old and a full time job kept me across country, and I realize now how removed I was from the entire process being about 2500 miles across the country.

Without going into great detail about growing up with a mother who was an alcoholic, a smoking anorexic, and who repressed much of her feelings, let’s just say that I built up a lot of anger growing up.  I was so angry with her poor choices around her health that I went to the opposite extreme, even studying Health Science Education in college in order to teach others about healthy choices.  Then a few years later after moving across the country, being far removed from my family, and not being able to find a job, I went to graduate school.  I studied Psychology with emphasis in Marriage, Family and Child Counseling.  YES, people who study psychology often do have serious issues! 😉  My program required me to do 16 hours of my own therapy, which actively helped me reprocess and let go of a lot of that anger and reconnect with my mom after having no contact for a period of time.

By the time my mom got cancer, I had lived across the country for twelve years.  I had done a lot of internal work in those years, dropping one husband and picking up another.  I gained stepkids, then had a kid of my own.  I was older, maybe a bit wiser.  I understood my mom was doing the best she could with the skills she had while battling addiction.  I understood healthy boundaries and co-dependence a bit more.  I understood my mom a bit more.

Then my mom got tonsil cancer.  Tonsil cancer which is fairly rare and most often caused by heavy drinking and smoking.  UGH!

My mom went through surgery, chemo, and radiation.  My mom beat cancer in spite of her poor health.  Then the treatment beat her.  Just two months after beating cancer, my mom’s heart stopped working.  Her frail anorexic body could not handle any more.  I cannot thank my baby sister enough for all that she did to help mom and be there for her through that process.  I now see firsthand how hard cancer is on caretakers.  How long and drawn out the process is.  Why patients need such a strong support network.

My mom with her unhealthy behaviors got cancer.  Myself with my healthy behaviors got cancer.  I was 12 years younger than my mom at diagnosis.  Such irony that shows how unfair life can be.

My mom beat cancer.  Then my mom died.   Will I beat cancer?  Will I still die from it?

Image:  My mom and stepdad.

Taxol infusion 7 of 12, and overall chemo infusion 11 of 16.  Today, on my mom’s birthday, on my 11^th infusion, I encounter a problem with my port.  My nurse, a travelling nurse from Florida with her cute subtle accent, cannot get a blood draw.  Uh Oh.  My aunt had multiple problems with her port, and I’ve been dreading the possibility of this happening.  Some have had to have ports replaced, which sounds horrible to me.  My nurse has me move around into different positions – lean forward, arm out, arm overhead, arm overhead and lean forward.  Finally it worked!  WHEW!  I am on a mission to be done in March – ON TIME!  I have not counted in any room for mishaps or setbacks, which happen quite often with those on chemo.  Imagine that – setbacks while being poisoned.  Nope, not even going there.  I want to celebrate my birthday with chemo in the rear-view mirror.

Today’s chemo made me really tired.  Maybe the glitch with the port.  Maybe my mom’s birthday.  Maybe the fact that I just allowed yet another poisonous infusion to enter my body.  Maybe all of it.  After chemo, I am tired, so I just go home and rest.  I don’t sleep well that night and notice that my skin color is starting to change, especially around my eyes.  Many people turn greyish and/ or greenish and have especially dry skin.  This is catching up with me and wearing me down.

Wednesday.  In spite of being tired, I do a little 80 year old exercise routine and take a short walk with Bear.  I am getting slower and exercise is getting harder, so I push myself.  A little bit of movement feels good.  I take f’erhead (aka Bear) to get his stitches removed – they just crumbled off.  Geez, I could have done that myself at home.  I even left his meds in the bathroom at the vet and had to go back and get them. My memory is getting worse.  I find it surprising that though this bugged me tremendously in the beginning, I’m like, ‘Oh well” now.  This is just how it is and not worth getting upset over.  I really don’t have the energy to be angry right now.  I am still able to mostly function as long as I don’t do too much.  I have to remember to keep the stress levels down and stay at only a moderate activity, which frankly I am still not the best at.

Remember that mole check I had last week?  And that my mole lady wanted to do biopsies of two areas of mild concern – just to be on the safe side?  She called today to let me know that she is referring me to a dermatology surgeon to have them removed.  The one on my leg, which I had zero concern about, turned out to be moderately atypical.  This means that it is something to watch and probably will not turn into a skin cancer, but might so she recommended getting it removed.  The one I was concerned about on my bikini area that I wanted to have checked?  Squamous Cell Carcinoma!  WTF?!  Are you kidding me?!  In my bikini area?  Guess all that nude sunbathing caught up with me!  Jk – it was probably caused by my weakened immune system.   When I texted my sisters to let them know, my baby sis asked me to, “Stop collecting cancers!  Consider collecting rocks, coins, anything but cancers.”  I love you Sam – thanks for the laugh.

That night, we went to a Cancer101 Basics and Beyond class and dinner that was offered through Providence Regional Cancer System.  Providence offers Survivorship Support and has a psycho-oncology consultant, Cobie Whitten, on staff who puts on these classes and other educational programs that help cancer patients with support and resources.  Tonight’s class was great because she had so many specialists on hand to talk about their different specialties in cancer care and how they work together using a team approach.  It was so interesting hearing from the different specialists.

For example, the pathologist discussed how cancer starts, which is basically a change or damage in the DNA that does not get repaired.  Normally, cell division occurs throughout our lives, replacing old cells with new ones.  When damaged cell divides, they can grow out of control, replicating quickly (or slowly for some cancers) and developing into a tumor.  The pathologist studies these cells and looks at biopsies to assess whether they are cancer.  He even encouraged for us to discuss our biopsy and/or tumor results with a pathologist.  Hmmm, I’ll be contacting them to discuss what my biopsy results mean.

Next, the Medical Oncologist explained how his job is to manage cancer care, specifically the plan of care and management of medical issues during care.  His explanation of why people get cancer is boiled down to ‘bad luck and age.’  We most definitely have behavioral risk factors, like my mom, that puts us at much higher risk of cancer.  But others who don’t have these risk factors may have inherited genetic mutations that make them more susceptible or are exposed to environmental toxins.  Even if you quit smoking after a cancer diagnosis, you decrease your risk for other cancers.  I’ll probably never know why I got cancer other than I drew one of the short sticks.

We also had speakers from radiation oncology, primary care, physical therapy, massage, genetic counseling, patient navigation, counseling, social work, spiritual advising, and the survivorship care plan.  It is important to have a team of providers who are willing to work together on some level in order to help you with the most comprehensive and holistic (whole mind and body) treatment.  So much info coming in, which is why Providence has set up a nurse practitioner to put together a summary of what you have been through after radiation therapy that you can take to any future providers. These poisons, scans, and radiation puts you at risk for other potential issues, so future care providers may need this information before they can decide on the best treatment plan.  For example, there is a lifetime limit of how much Adriamycin (the little red devil) one can have in a lifetime.  AND, it puts you at a higher risk of leukemia.

Of course, I wanted to cry about halfway through it.  I am tired so that breaks down my reserves, and frankly is a bit overwhelming.  One of the ladies talked about Harmony Hill Retreat Center that offers free retreats for cancer patients.  They are part of the treatment team, too, and offer three-day retreats with mostly vegetarian meals, group process sessions, and meditation / yoga.   They ask for a $25 application fee that can be waived if you’re not able to afford it.  I got excited because I had already applied and have a spot reserved for a weekend in March.  It was then that realized I did not even ask Grey if he wanted to go.  I just assumed he wouldn’t be interested in yoga, meditation, and vegetarian meals.  These are simply NOT things he is interested in at all.  So I turned to him and asked.  He would love to go – anything to support me through this process is important to him.  How sweet!  My most important team member and wing-man needs healing, too.  Tomorrow, I will e-mail and ask if they have a spot.

Monday.  I have my first signs of neuropathy.  They are quick sharp pains that feel like someone just gave me an electric shock.  It happens a couple of times during the day, but they go away quickly.  That night my legs ache all night.  Please, please, please go away!  And, yes, I did remember right away to e-mail and ask if they had a spot at Harmony Hill for Grey.  She will get back to me and do her best to try to work it out.  YEAH!

Tuesday. February 27.  Taxol infusion #8 of 12.  My last February infusion and we didn’t have any problems with my port – wahoo!  Let’s get February done and over with!  I am a bit more excited today as I finish our February’s infusions and only have one month to go, so I am chattier with the nurse and with my infusion mates, making random jokes that not everyone laughs at… At least I am laughing today.  And, I want to give kudos to my mom, who I loved dearly, for giving me the gift of a quite distorted and at times very inappropriate humor.

 

I want to thank my team of food fairies from February and the end of January that I missed.  Mary, Kathy, Sally, Gerard, and Amy. You are amazingly beautiful beings who I so appreciate.  And most of all, my beautiful friend Erica, who continues to give and supports me, giving me the foundation to continue this process while being so far away from my sisters and extended family.

 

And, for my sister’s sake – and quite selfishly my own – I will do my best to quit fucking collecting cancers!

 

Current status:  On June 4, I started my twenty days of radiation therapy.  This is the final intense phase of treatment!  YEAH!!!  I will be done on June 29 and am having a celebration – KNOCKOUT cancer – on June 30^th.