After being locked out of my blog for about two weeks...very frustrating...I finally figured out how to get back in.  Technology is certainly amazing, but also very trying and upsetting.  I've had good news to share, and have been unable to, until now...so, here it is.  My MRI results were given to me last Tuesday when I went for my chemo treatment.  My main tumor...when it started, I believe it was 2.8 cm in size...has shrunk so much, there is just a little liquid there...my doctor"s exact words were, "so basically, it's gone!"  My other tumor, located in the axillary tail of my lymph nodes, was unable to be viewed by the MRI machine, as it was too high for the machine to reach.  But it was only like maybe 1 cm big, and I'm hopeful that it has shrunk, too...or even disappeared as well.

This is why I had the chemo first...to have a smaller surgery at the end.  My surgery is planned sometime mid-December...my surgeon is getting the MRI results, and I'm sure I'll have something more definite set up soon.  Please keep good thoughts that I'm able to have a lumpectomy and not a full mastectomy, as that is my goal.  Smaller surgery...smaller recovery time...let's get this show over with!

I've been struggling with the notion of genetic testing, being tested for the brca 1 and brca 2 genes.  They are known as the "cancer" genes.  It is a two part process...the first part is genetic counseling, where they evaluate your risk...the second part is actually the test itself, which is sent to a lab in California and results are given if you have the mutation or not.  I weighed all the pros and cons, and decided to have the counseling.  It's not cheap, and insurance only pays a little bit of it.  My out of pocket cost is about $400.  My appointment was two days ago, Friday, at 4:30.  The entire phone call lasted about 45 minutes.  I learned that every person has 2 genes, one from their mom, and one from their dad.  We all carry the cancer genes, but only if it mutates does it become a risk.  Less that one % of the population has the mutation, and after doing my family history, I've learned I have a 10.5%~13% chance of carrying the mutation.  I don't feel comfortable with the possibility of having a double mastectomy in about a month, and hysterectomy soon after, on that percentage, so my plan is to continue on course and possibly next summer having the actual test to see if I have the mutation.  Let's look at to this way...there is an 87-89.5 % chance that I DON'T have it.  I can live with that for now.

I only have three taxol treatments left.  Changing to the abraxane has greatly reduced neuropathy in my hands and feet, and that was the goal, but I've had different side effects with this last chemo drug. Mouth sores (again,,,had them with the a/c), extreme fatigue on Friday and Saturday, nausea over the weekend (but it goes away with the nausea pills), dry mouth, dry skin, a metallic taste in my mouth that comes and goes, a dry, bloody nose, stuffy nose etc...but, other than that, I just keep telling myself...all of that is temporary, I can get through that...neuropathy is something you can be stuck with for LIFE!

On a positive note, I got new hair this week.  Elegante studio in Lansing is amazing.  And my mom won't believe this, but I was told how nice it was to work with me because...get this... "I'm not picky!"  Ha!  Do they KNOW me?  I'm about the pickiest person in the world!  However, this time, I knew what I wanted, so it was easy to point to the styles I wanted to try.  It went like this:  "yep, I love it, put it in the "get" pile.  I kind of like it, let's put it in the "maybe" pile."  I thought I wanted a bob, which I loved from the front, but not the back...too short, feels like they ride up anyway, so those didn't work.  5 more in the "get" pile, one more in the "maybe" pile, and only 2 or 3 in the "no" pile.  It was a ton of fun...I was getting sick of wearing the same two wigs every day, and now I have some variety.  I've learned you have to take your joys during cancer any place you can get it.  And who doesn't enjoy a fresh new look every once in a while?

Thanks for sticking around and reading these blogs.  I appreciate your support. 😊

I know people are asking when I'm going to blog again, but truthfully, I'm working pretty much full time again, and am having trouble finding the time.  I have had 7 taxol treatments out of 12...I have 5 left.  Truthfully, 5 treatments in it was decided my neuropathy in my hands and feet was getting too bad...I learned I have a really good chance of having it for my entire life...so, to lessen the effects, they changed my chemo medicine to abraxane (not sure I'm spelling it correctly).  It's very similar to taxol, only more expensive.  I was worried about the change, but the doctors assured me it was no less effective, and my insurance ok'd it, so I was good to go.  I think I'm a little bit more tired on this drug, and had some nausea for a few days, but with a few pre-med tweaks, I'm good to go.  I also had a pretty good scare last week when my port wouldn't work...I didn't realize how lucky I am to have a port until I had to start my chemo with an IV in my right arm...no left arm blood work for me, ever, because I've had lymph nodes removed...I didn't know that until last Tuesday.  And it stings and burns going into the arm.  So lucky they were able to unblock the clot and get it going again.  I cried, I was so relieved they were able to fix it.  Otherwise, I think my arm would have ended up looking like a junkie's from all the needle marks...

Working full time has been a nice transition...I'm still having my treatments on Tuesday afternoons, and Friday, I'm going in a few hours later, but other than that, I'm teaching all my classes, and I'm proud to say that even undergoing chemo, in the first 8 weeks of school, I've only missed one day of work...and that was due to a migraine headache.  I'm tired at night, and on the weekend it feels like I'm catching up on my rest, but it's all good.  Only five more weeks of chemo to go!  I'm 75% done with the 20 week regimen...and this Wednesday, I'm having my MRI to see just how the chemo has affected my tumors.  Hopefully, they are shrinking, so I can have a smaller surgery in December.

The biggest question around this house is where my son Drake will go to college next fall.  He's been accepted at CMU and Wayne State, getting nice package offers from each for his GPA...he's been accepted at Jackson College, and been asked to play on their soccer team...he even went and practiced with their team last week to check them out.  He's been contacted by Albion College's baseball coach, who invited him to play next year, and is waiting on his acceptance to MSU...he's feeling pretty confused right now, and we talk about his options almost every day, all good problems to have.  I've jokingly given him a 2 hour radius to "leave his mama..." but no, seriously...he's got two hours!  ;)  I'm constantly aware that this is my son's senior year, probably his last year at home...and when this whole cancer ordeal began, I made a conscious decision that I would miss as little of his sporting events as possible.  Well, I think I made every soccer game but one, and it was an hour away and pouring down rain.  I probably wouldn't have gone even IF I didn't have cancer.  So, Steve went and kept me updated with text messages.   I was at his senior parents' day for soccer, made him a beautiful poster for the display, and was even on the football field at half time when he was crowned the Jackson High homecoming king.  Both events were really windy, and I was scared to death my wig was going to blow off...but it didn't, and I'm so grateful I was able to attend.  We got his formal senior pictures taken for the yearbook, and they turned out great.  Bring on bowling in December!  At least it's inside...and no wig blowing worry there.  I couldn't be more proud of my son, and how well he's handled the added stress of having a mom with cancer.  He really is an amazing kid...and if it sounds like I'm bragging about him, I'm sorry... I probably am!  But I just feel so lucky to be his mom.

Halloween is just around the corner...I love this time of year.  Yesterday we reinstated a tradition of carving pumpkins and eating white chicken chili with my parents...I realized we've done this since we lived on 4th street...I actually had 13 pumpkin carving kits, all different...it felt nice to do something so normal... I want to make sure the holidays are cheerful around this house, too.  I think I'm looking at mid December for my surgery, so I need to get stuff out early this year...gotta be prepared in case I have no energy as it gets closer to Christmas.  I need to have my shopping completed, and everything set...

I'm ready for some new wigs... These are getting old, and I'm sick of how I look in them.  Actually, I'm ready for my own hair to start to grow back...I've lost about 2/3 of my eyebrows, but am able to pencil them in.  It's not been as traumatic as I worried about, but does look pretty weird without any makeup.  Also, I've lost about 2/3 of my left eyelashes, and about 1/2 of my right...isn't that weird?  I use that Mary Kay lash and brow serum every night, and I'm convinced that's the only reason I have any at all.  I bought some fake eyelashes, but haven't had to wear them yet... But am ready if I need to.  Five more weeks. Five more weeks.  Then hopefully, stuff will start to grow back.  Keep your fingers crossed for my MRI results, ok?  Thanks for reading...

I want to say that two weeks into taxol, and after my third treatment today, it is definitely easier on my body than the a/c.  I was grocery shopping at Meijer's on a Sunday, and remarked to Steve that in the last two months, this was the first Sunday after a treatment that I was able to do that.  Yeah, I'm a little more tired on Friday and Saturday, but nothing like the 3 days of not leaving the house, or driving, or basically, going anywhere, during the first four rounds of chemo.  This is definitely a relief!

Today Tracy was my nurse again, and I just really enjoy her...she has so much personality.  I always said that the oncology department is a terrible place to be a member, but they do everything in their power to make it not as terrible as it could be.  Today, during treatment, the machine tha regulates the flow of fluids into my port seemed to act up...Tracy was kind of beating on it, saying something like "Don't be kicking air bubbles into my line!"  What?  Air bubbles? "Uh, Tracy?  You aren't trying to kill me, are you?."  "Oh, no," she assured me.  "It takes more than a line of bubbles to kill you.  I know in all the tv shows, they make it look like a single air bubble will kill you, but that's not true.  I promise...you'll be fine."  "Holy crap!"  I was really nervous, but she was right...she didn't kill me, even though I assured her that I watch ALL the CSI's and Law and Orders, and, yes, people are definitely killed ALL the time by air bubble!  What a fake!

Side effects seem to be less pronounced...I've had a little of the neuropathy in my hands and feet, but not a lot so far.  Tired at the end of the week, more than just the usual tired of a working mom, but way less than the overwhelming fatigue I felt a month ago.  Still holding onto my eyebrows and eyelashes (keep your fingers crossed for me, will you?) and still have my arm hair, facial hair, and my head, though buzzed bald, still has a stubble you can feel with your hands...but a week and a half ago, I lost the nose hair...dang it!  Now Kleenex is my very best friend.  Between the cold I've had and the cough I can't shake, it just... feels pretty normal...every year going back to school, I've gotten sick in September.  We have so many sick kids right now, it isn't even funny!  And most of our staff has been sick too.  Drake's soccer team has had sickness, too, so I think it's pretty much all over town right now...

I'm really appreciative of the half days I'm able to work, and rotating with one day working in the afternoon instead of the morning has been great.   I'm tryong to have all my papers graded each day before I leave, so I can keep tabs on ALL of my kids, even the classes I'm only physically teaching one day a week.  I'm working with my sub every day, making sure he knows what he's doing for each class, and getting feedback on how things went during the classes he taught.  It almost feels like I have a student teacher again, only I'm not there to observe and correct...my job is to not feel guilty about the time I'm spending on me.  This is probably the most difficult thing I've ever done...walked away during a school day.  But, I'm doing it so I will (hopefully) never have to walk away from my students for any length of time in the future, ever again.  "This too shall pass" has been my mantra from the beginning, and "this is only temporary, you WILL get through this," has been my back-up saying.  Everyone needs a positive voice in their head...these have been mine.  Ooooh, voices in my head!  Side effects from the anti-nausea meds?  Just kidding.  I've already stated in previous posts that I talk to myself, nothing new there.  But, did you know that sometimes, I talk to myself in different, funny sounding accents?   It's all just practice, really, for my real job...of teaching English, and reading out loud to groups of children (albeit big ones!) of which many never got read to when they were little.  A love of reading is instilled when a child is very small, and most of my kids never got that privilege, so I do everything in my power to make it a great experience for them now.  ( I once had a student tell me "Reading is for rich people."  Honestly, I can't make that stuff up.  Isn't that crazy?) Anyway, I was reading a short story to my class last Wednesday, called "The Right Kind of House," and used different voices for the characters...a deep, gruff voice for Mr. Waterbury, and for the part of Sadie Grimes, I used this really crackly, gnarly sounding old- lady voice.  When I looked out at my class to make sure they were following along, they were all staring at me, some with open mouthed wonder.  Several times throughout the story, I looked up...and the entire class was still staring.  I tried not to crack up, but knew I had them! And I was doing my job.  The post reading activity went great, the kids delved into theme, protagonist, antagonist, plot...everything you'd want someone to know, and I even heard some really good original thoughts on their take of things.  The following Monday, as we were beginning our next short story, I said to the class, "OK, how about this time when I read, you all follow along and don't just stare at me like you did when I read our last short story!"  The kids cracked up, and said, "It was that old lady voice!  It was so awesome!  I never had anyone read a story like that aloud before!"  

And that, my friends, is why I teach at alternative high school.  They can really appreciate something that a lot of kids were able to take for granted growing up.  An adult, taking the time, to read to them.  Shouldn't every kid have that?  So if they didn't get it at six, I'm gonna give it to them at sixteen.  It's never too late to become a reader.

Yesterday I had my first taxol treatment....the first 30-40 minute infusion was straight Benadryl...then 2 other little infusions, then the decadron, the steroid to help prevent nausea, and finally the taxol, a full one hour infusion.  My total appointment time yesterday; about 3 and 1/2 hours.  Just glad I don't have to go back the next day for a shot.  I will say, that Benadryl pretty much knocked me out.  I felt bad for my mom, instead of having me to visit with, she was pretty much relegated to foot shaker if I began snoring...luckily, I didn't.  I would have been so embarrassed!  They made such a big deal about a possible allergic reaction, which would have been an anaphalyctic one...they even had an oxygen machine behind me just in case.  Luckily, no reaction.  That's what the Benadryl is about.

Last week I was so happy for Friday.  I was really glad to be back to work, with my students, and I had a really good first week, but I was pretty tired.  My sub told me on Monday how he couldn't believe how tired he was, it was the most tired he could remember being.  We had a good laugh about how a lot of people don't get how exhausting being "on stage" all day long can be.  It's the talking, and reading, and just being fully present that does it.  But, it's so worth it.  I was lucky, working mornings only afforded me the opportunity to miss the extreme heat of Friday afternoon...when I left at 11:30 on Friday, it was already 88 degrees in my classroom...it was well above that when school let out Friday.  This week is supposed to be better, and for that, I'm grateful.  Working without air conditioning is a challenge, something we had in our old building...last year.it was something I had to adapt to.  Extreme heat plus chemo...not the best combination.  Today it felt about perfect in my room.  I went in and worked the second half of the day, taught my afternoon classes and let my sub teach my morning ones.  I did that because I wasn't sure how I'd feel this morning after my treatment yesterday, and also for the chance to be with my last two classes.  I think I will do this each Wednesday of this first marking period.  I think it's also best for the kids.

Several of my students told me they liked the hair I was wearing today best...it reminded them the most of my old hair.  I said, "You mean my wig?"  They all said it looked really nice.  I told them that this morning I cut the bangs on it, and they all said it looked great.  One kid said, "A-plus, Mrs. Csage."  Another girl said, "I thought the one you wore on the first day of school looked a lot like your old hair.  I didn't even know that was a wig."  I told her it was because I thought it was most similar to my old color, right down to the dark roots.  I shared with the class that the hardest thing about the whole wig thing was that none of them really looked like my old hair, and the hardest thing is looking in the mirror and seeing someone different looking back.  Like I said earlier, I've been very up front about my situation with my kids, and because of that, I think I've gotten respect from my students.  They all have been really understanding with my working half days...several ask me how I'm doing and how I'm feeling...there's a lot of empathy in my little alternative school.  Empathy from kids who live in homes and faces challenges every day that most of us can't even comprehend.  They make me proud to be their teacher.

This Saturday, speaking of wigs, I woke up at 5 in the morning and couldn't get back to sleep...I had something weighing on my mind...I needed to wash my wigs.  I decided to just get up and do it.  I got my instruction guide out, and filled both bathroom sinks with water.  In one sink, I put the wig shampoo.  In the other, the wig conditioner.  I then took a wig, and swished it around the shampoo for a few minutes.  It had to be rinsed, and because I'd set up the drying station in the bath tub, that left the shower.  I turned on the shower, and holding it under the spray, rinsed it out.  I was pretty wet myself, then took the wig to soak in the conditioner.  Got the next wig, shampooed it, got the one out of the conditioner, turned on the shower again, rinsed it really well, wrung it out gently, and put it on a wig stand, in the tub to dry.  I did this for five wigs...I had to save the sixth one to wear that day.  About half way through, Steve yelled at me, "What are you doing?"  I told him I was washing my wigs, go back to sleep.  I think he thought I was crazy.  I had no idea how long it would take them to dry, and truthfully, I was hoping that this didn't ruin them.  I also took my two wigs that were tight and uncomfortable, and stretched them out.  By the time I was done, I was soaked and my floor was drenched.  Oh well, it needed to be mopped anyway.  That night, I took each one and combed them out by hand...it was a pretty long process, and you can't comb a wet wig, but now each wig is good for roughly another 7 wearings each before needing to be washed again, and the stretched out one fits beautifully now, and is the one given an "A plus" by my student today.  I'm glad I didn't give up on it, and took the time to try to stretch it and make it fit.  It might even be my most comfortable wig!

This week I'm grateful to be back to work, even if it is on a modified day.  The effects of last Tuesday's chemo treatment hit me this weekend, especially Sunday and Monday, but I knew I had to get up Tuesday and put on a brave face.  I got up extra early, even though technically I have less to do to get ready, mainly my hair...it's a good thing I planned it like that.  Shower...lay on the bed.  Get dressed...lay on the bed.  Then, I made the mistake of taking some of my meds without eating first, and got sick to my stomach...not a great way to start the new school year.  Somehow, I made it.

Anyone who has looked at my Facebook page may have noticed that one of my students, Luke, shaved his head in honor of me.  He is the brother of Amber, another student (graduate) that I've written about, and he and his family have been so supportive of me and what I've been going through.  I saw Luke Tuesday morning and gave him a hug...he told some kids that he did it for me...it was a pretty humbling moment, and I think a lot of the other students thought that was a pretty worthy thing that he had done.  I joked in front of the kids that "that's what my head looks like."   I just want to be up front with the kids and let them know that I AM wearing a wig.  I DO have cancer.  I AM undergoing chemo treatments...even will have them on days that I teach.  But I also want them to know that I'm going to get through this, and I'm there in the morning, because I care about them.  And please, don't mind the special bathroom stall with my name one it, with a big fat sign that I made saying "kids- do not use!  Mrs. Csage only!"  I can't believe no one has asked me about that.  By the way, after a chemo treatment, you excrete the chemotherapy for up to 48 hours afterwards, so it's just a precaution for the kids.  Our secretary and custodian decorated the inside of my stall... A shelf installed, floral arrangement and wipes...hilarious!  Anything to bring a little cheer...even into the ladies' restroom 😊

I keep getting crazy gifts...crazy in a good way.  My mom and dad bought me a Pandora bracelet to celebrate the end of the A/C, with a good luck charm on ot.  I love it.  A high school friend of my husband, also a breast cancer survivor, sent us a huge gift certificate to a local restaurant, with a knowing note about not feeling up to cooking when going back to work.  Steve and I just looked at each other...it was our first day back last week, before kids, and realized neither one of us had gotten something out for that evening...we used that gift card that night...it was like some kind of sign for us to do that.  My Aunt Susie brought me some meals over yesterday, knowing that when school started up...it was awesome.  And today at work, a 2014 graduate and his mom, Dawn, who I just adore, sent me two pedicures...one for me, and one for my mom, at a beauty shop up the road from my house.  I was so blown away with the thoughtfulness of everyone mentioned above.  But one more thing:
Last week we had an open hope for back to school.  And waiting for me, in my classroom, was a giant bouquet of yellow balloons, a yellow flower (keeping the sunshine going, says Sabrena), and a huge card with personalized messages from all of our returning students, to me, as they came in to enroll for this upcoming school year.  Probably the most amazing note was from a graduate who apologized to me, said she regretted that she wasn't nicer to me last year, found me on Facebook, and apologized AGAIN!   People ask me, all of the time, how I can do what I do for a living, with teenagers who can be explosive and rude, sometimes even mean...it's because of moments like that.  When you see someone take ownership of a past wrong, and do everything in their power to make it right, it's totally worth it.  I never think a kid is truly bad, just their actions...and we can all change and want to be better people.  If it takes someone's teacher being diagnosed with cancer to make them think that maybe they better set something right?  Then, Why not?

Today I came home and crashed...could barely make the drive home from school without falling asleep.  I think it's because I pushed myself yesterday, insisted on teaching almost the whole day, just to make sure the kids got off on the right track.  I think this marking period will go a lot smoother with my sub, Clive, and he is super dependable, and the kids really like him.  However.... I just want to make sure my afternoon kids are getting the same kind of education as my morning kids...but, it is only for six weeks...hopefully, after my first few Taxol treatments, I'll get into a rhythm with my body and symptoms...hopefully, less than the A/C...but only time will tell.  Happy back to school, everyone!

This was a milestone week on many fronts.  On Tuesday, I officially went back to work.  Every year, the teachers go back a week ahead of the kids for inservice.  The first day is a big one...all of the employees of our district meet, and for the last few years, it's been at the Nazarene Church on M-50.  It's nice to meet there...it's comfortable, air conditioned (we had a heat index of 95 degrees that day), and you get to see everyone from all of the other buildings.  It's also very motivating, as they have excellent guest speakers for us to listen to.  It was also very emotional for me, as I saw a lot of people who knew about my condition, but hadn't seen me in person...lots of hugs, lots of "how are you feeling," and everything in between...it was hard to keep a dry eye for a lot of the morning.  It was good to be back.  It felt normal, and normal is good.

The next milestone occurred that same Tuesday afternoon...I completed my last A/C bi-weekly chemo treatment.  The nurses brought me a gift from Allegiance...it seems their massage therapists and estheticians have been undergoing special training for cancer patients, and I was given a facial and lymphatic massage...for free!  I was pretty blown away at the gesture...they even gave one to my mom, too, as she's been to most of my treatments with me.  I chose to do the chemo first...the biggest reason was the first four rounds of A/C are supposed to be the most difficult...I still have to get through the effects of the next two weeks, but I know I'll get through it... Bring on the Taxol!

The next day, Wednesday...inservice in my own building.  I'd gotten some pretty awesome news about my start of this school year...I have a substitute teacher that will be with me every day for the first six weeks of school...our first marking period.  He's a man I've known for years, subbed in our building, and the kids are very fond of him, and he will be there all day...I will teach my first two classes (we are on a five hour day, I teach four classes and have one period for planning...my schedule happens to be teach the first two,  plan, and teach the last two).  My sub will teach my last two hours...I will give him all the work and guidance he needs during our morning planning...he will do all the class stuff and take that stress off my shoulders.  It couldn't have worked out any better than this.  Basically, about a week ago I had a meltdown...literally, when I left school, worrying about working full time...the heat of the classroom in the afternoon with no air conditioning, in a wig, and going through a new chemo regimen which, though said to be easier, is still unknown...Unfortunately, my mom was on the other end of the phone when I had it.  She just listened, let me rant rave and cry, and didn't judge...I took a bath to relax, and came up with the idea of teaching mornings only...to start...and am so relieved it's come together, I about cried from gratitude.  If I'm not able to make it in one morning...he will be there.  If I'm sick and have to leave early...he will be there.  Bless my principal and superintendent for allowing this to happen...it's a huge weight off my shoulders.  I can't wait for Tuesday, and the chance to make this happen!

Wednesday afternoon was my next milestone...my last neulasta shot.  When I start Taxol, no added shots...unless needed.  However, I did get an earful about my next regiment...I'm not allowed to drive myself, because half of my infusion is a big old dose of Benadryl to ward off allergic reactions...they are afraid to let you drive, so I have to have a driver.  Ok, no big deal, I'll let my mom pick me up...she's more than willing, I'll take her up on her offer.   Also, upcoming side effects to look forward to...neuropathy in hands and feet seem to be pretty common...also, more  hair loss, including the possibility of the eyebrows and eyelashes...I still have all my body hair, and that's on the list, too...however, my leg hair growth has severely slowed down.  I've gone from shaving my legs every day, to about every five...I have so little to do in the shower, I used to be in there forever...do you know how long it took to rinse my hair from shampoo and conditioner alone?  And shave every day? I will say, if there are any positive things about chemo, is it's definitely giving me a little extra time in the morning...except when you figure in all the time it takes to apply all that self tanner business...oh well, it all evens out.  I'm taking this weekend to relax, rest, and mentally prepare for the start of school.  My fellow teachers and I planned an amazing "getting to know you" activity that we will do with all of our students at once...it was so energizing to be back to planning and preparing...I think I'm finally ready to go back to school!

I went to the doctor yesterday to have a few things checked out...first off, let me just say that when you are a cancer patient, you don't just "go to the doctor"...  You go to your oncologist, after first calling their triage nurse...who relays all your info to your team...who then determines what to do with you.  My symptoms?  A cough, and a sore throat.  I got an appointment for the next day, at 3:15.  I didn't realize that just stopping in for those symptoms was the equivalent of having a normal visit with them...which meant having to go through all the intake stuff I've talked about before...the blood draw...the blood pressure...the dreaded weigh-in...the temperature check.  Then, the meeting with the person to go over your meds and issues...etc.  a full 25 minutes is given for pre-check stuff...and you still haven't seen the doctor!

What I learned is that my white blood count is dangerously low...in fact, a lot of my counts are low.   I'm actually a fever away from being hospitalized on IV antibiotics.  I was pretty stunned.  This, she explained, is why I've had such a hard time this round, and haven't bounced back like I did my second round.  Now, this was nothing like my first round, which was very difficult, but still, I've been very fatigued and to-the-bone tired.  Change the bed...have to lay on it.  Change a few pillowcases, have to lay down again.  I went to my son Drake's first soccer scrimmage last Friday, was too tired to make it to the second one at 7:45 at night...I think I was sleeping in bed at 8:00...and didn't leave the house until Tuesday.   Tired.  Worn out.  And feeling, somehow, guilty about it.  And even when I did go out on Tuesday, it was brief.  Same on Wednesday, I went into school and to Meijer's...Then on Thursday, Steve and I went out for lunch and did a little shopping before my doctor's appointment...tired me right out.

I told my doctor I thought I did everything right this time, I'd learned from the first round...I drank plenty of fluids...took my Claritin...ate regularly and pretty healthfully...got plenty of rest...she said, quite simply, "it's the chemo.  You really can't predict what it will do.  The neulasta shot is supposed to help with your blood count levels...but...it's chemo."  Hard lesson learned...again, you just can't predict...or plan...or suppose to know...how you are going to be a week from Wednesday....even though maybe two weeks ago, you were fine, this time can be different.

So, long story short, I'm on two antibiotics...one as a preventive measure so I DON'T end up in the hospital, and the other for my cough/sore throat thing.  They don't mess around when you're doing chemotherapy...but the best part is, she thinks I'll be better this weekend.  That's definitely good news.

I haven't written before now, and this is probably the longest between blogs that I've gone, because truthfully, I didn't feel there was much to write about.  Ooohhhh, I've been home.  I've been watching tv.  I've read a few books.  I've been really tired.  Even that bores me.  But also, there is something I'd like to say to all people who are having a conversation with a person going through cancer... Please don't ask them when they will know if their treatment is having any effect...personally, I'm 6 weeks in of a 20 week chemo regimen.  I don't even want to entertain the idea that I've lost my hair, my energy and my SUMMER....for perhaps nothing.  I want to believe that what I'm doing is KILLING my CANCER, that my team of doctors know what they are doing, and at the end of this, I will reap the prize...no, not Ed McMahon showing up at my door, though I order enough magazines to totally justify a visit...THE prize, of course, being I get to have my life back.  Because right now, it doesn't feel a whole lot like my life...it feels like someone else's....someone who has to avoid the sun, is bald, and when she goes out feels like she's wearing a costume on her head....ask anyone, I never wanted to dress up for Halloween, wear a hat, or basically do anything that didn't allow me to feel like myself.  Well....the joke's on me now, because every day is October 31st around here.  From Saturday to Monday, I was bald around the house, with an occasional bandana thrown in for company.  Tuesday was the first day I put on a wig in several days, and after about 3 hours, I just had to get it off my head.  Same with Wednesday and Thursday...too tight, too hot, too too too...fill in the blank, it would probably fit.  I wore my brunette wig yesterday at the doctor's office...they all loved it.  They are so nice there, like I've said before, for a terrible place to be, they sure try to make it as pleasant as possible.  One more round of the A C.  Then the Taxol.  I can do this.

Treatment number 3 of 4 is complete of the adriamycin and cytoxan.    In two more weeks I'll have my last bi-weekly treatment.  These are the only treatments where I have to go back the next day for the neulasta shot.  On September 9th I start my first of 12 weekly taxol treatments.  I've scheduled the first two to coordinate with my work schedule...I figure that will give me enough time to let me know how my body reacts to the new drug.... I sure hope I can handle working and undergoing chemo at the same time.

This week Steve and I went on a pretty nice bike ride.  We started out on the Falling Waters Trail, rode into town, and around lower Essex Heights.  The bad roads seem to be everywhere, even in that lovely southwest city neighborhood near where we used to live.  I still love that part of town, and part of me misses living in the city, so close to everything.  (Ok, I only live two miles away from there, it's not like I moved out to the middle of nowhere, but still...)  on our ride we ran into a couple we know. Our sons played sports together at Jackson High, and it was nice catching up with them.  I was talking mainly to Di, and Steve was talking to her husband.  Our bikes were kind of blocking the path, but not too terribly.  Di asked how I was doing, and I remembered that she was a breast cancer survivor... 10 years, to be exact.  She was such an inspiration to me...she went through everything I'm going through now...she even showed me her lumpectomy, which is barely noticeable under her arm, same area as mine.  And, she worked through it all.  She even had her boys help shave her head to get them involved and not freak at the whole bald thing...It was cute, she told her husband, "Hey, Kim's going through what we went through." Her husband said, "What did we go through?"  Men!  She said, "Kim has breast cancer and is going through chemo right now."  I mentioned to him that was why I was bald...I was wearing my bright yellow bandana from my sunshine basket, some big hoop earrings, and that was it.  Her husband said, "I didn't even notice you were bald...I just thought you looked kind of spunky!"  Ok...men...sometimes you've just got to forgive them! :).  The truth is, I had agonized over what to wear that morning, going for a bike ride.  While I normally wear bandanas, or just go bald, in the house, I had yet to LEAVE the house without a wig.  You know what?  It felt liberating.  And comfortable.  And, it absorbs your sweat when exercising....lesson learned.

My dad decided that he wanted to go with me to my treatment yesterday, to see more of what I'm going through.  My parents have both been great through this...we visited, watched tv, and talked to Tracy my nurse as she changed my meds as needed.  We then went to lunch afterwards...Steve, my dad, and I.  That's becoming a regular routine, chemo, then lunch, as I'm starved!  I just realized that after my last treatment my mom and I went to one-five-one...and now they have closed.  I kind of liked that place...I know my in-laws are sitting on gift certificates that I bet they never get to redeem.  It would be nice if some other establishment stepped up, even if they offered 25-50% of the value just to get you in the door as a new customer...maybe Bella Notte?  Hint, hint... ;)

Today I learned that my potassium levels are still running low, even though I'm taking a supplement...the doctor has ordered me to take it twice a day to get it raised.  I've got a list of potassium-rich foods to try to eat more of...I just really don't like bananas, and they say probably one banana a day would do it...ugh!  I'll go with the avocado, chicken, and lean beef and milk, baked potatoes with skins...we'll see how that works.  I'm sick of taking pills...though my doctor told me yesterday that if I wanted to try it, I could take half of my decadron the next few days, one pill instead of two... I told her how it doesn't let me sleep and gets me all wired up... I might just try that tomorrow.

So today, after my shot, I went to the Westwood Mall because my friend Janie told me that in the old Crown and Carriage store is a store that has wigs.  I was pleasantly surprised, chose two to try, and went into a separate, private room with beauty shop chairs and mirrors.  The lady working said they did the privacy factor because they have a lot of cancer patients buying wigs...I whipped off my wig, and said "Yep.  That's me."  She tried on my first one, a shoulder length, kind of side-swept multi-tonal blonde...and I really liked it.  The price?  $49.99.  I tried on the second one...a shoulder length multi-tonal blonde with beach waves...looks very casual, like your waves were air dried.  Price?  $39.99.  As you can guess, I bought them both, bringing my wig family up to six.  I spent an hour this morning trimming, combing, and cutting three of my wigs...they were just too long, and getting kind of matted underneath...and not that easy to comb out.  The lady at the wig store told me my body heat reacts with the synthetic fibers and mats them...shorter must be better!  I will say I'm getting more used to wearing a wig... I'm more confident that they aren't going to blow off...I've even been riding in my car with the windows down!  How's that for confidence?

I'm still getting wonderful cards in the mail, and last week friends of ours made us a wonderful dinner and brought it to our home...thanks Kyro's.  Your chicken enchiladas were wonderful, and we really appreciated them... You have no idea what that meant to us.  And I have gotten more Facebook friend requests than ever before...I wonder if news of my diagnosis is spreading?  Especially among my former students!  I always tell them I won't friend me while you're currently a student, but friend me after you graduate and I'm happy to comply!  I love seeing how they are doing in their lives, and many are so caring and compassionate...this is for you, Amber...you've been nothing but caring and compassionate in your messages to me, and I'll never forget that.  Thank you for your concern.  Give that baby a kiss for me, and best thoughts for your mother in her own cancer battle.  Us cancer patients have to stick together, be supportive, and above all, BE POSITIVE.  That's the only way to be.

This week I feel like the old "Fat equals Fat" infomercial guru of about 15 years ago, Susan Powter.  She was the little bald girl who lost all the weight by claiming "you could eat 32 baked potatoes for the same amount of fat, as say, a piece of cheese.  Do you remember her?  I don't mean I'm eating dozens of baked potatoes...but, I'm definitely bald.  And she had kind of a white head.  So do I.  After all, my scalp has never seen the sun. But my face and the rest of my body has, so there is this eerie whiteness, kind of glowing at me.  I look in the mirror, and am kind of startled to see that hairless being looking back at me.  Putting on a wig definitely makes the whole image easier to look at.  And wearing a little cap or doo-rag is definitely easier on the eyes, too...but I don't know if I'd ever leave the house without wearing an actual wig.

I feel like when people see me, they aren't sure what to expect... I watch someone's face as they are seeing me in a wig for the first time, and it seems like surprise is the main emotion on their face, more than anything.  Surprise that I don't look like a cancer patient.  As my friend Anna said to me... "Oh my gosh...you look so good.  We didn't think you'd look so good."  I'm guessing tv and movies help enhance the image of the emaciated cancer patient, walking with a cane, kind of hunched over and generally sickly looking.   I've said it before, and I will say it again... I don't think I look sick.  I just think I look like I'm having a bad hair day.  But to a bald person, even a bad hair day is better than a no hair day...I'd take my old bad hair days anytime over being hairless... But you never realize how good you've got it, until you don't have it any longer.  I told my niece Elisa last night that I'm not judging anyone for their hair anymore, even if it is ugly hair... Because having hair is just something you take for granted.  You are lucky if you have it.  Period.  End of story.  I hope I never complain about something as trivial as a bad hair day again.

As of yesterday, I've worn all four of my wigs, including the brunette human hair one.  That one was fun, because I got to put a curling iron to it, and style it more than the synthetic ones, where you can just basically mess with the part a little bit and comb it with a large toothed comb.  The human hair wig, though dark, really feels like hair.  The only thing is, it kind of slips around when brushing it, so it's not quite like having hair that is stuck to your head.  But, it is definitely better than nothing.

The cheapest blonde wig feels nice and light.  I like it best with a little barrette keeping the bangs out of my eyes.  The more expensive blonde wig I spent time cutting with a pair of scissors.  It was too long...longer than anything I've ever had naturally, so it too felt like a costume.  The reddish one, the Vegas wig my friend gave me, I wore to the lake yesterday.  I actually put it into a long ponytail and rode on the pontoon with it.  My mom was afraid to give the pontoon any gas because she wondered if my wig would fly off my head... I told her I was pretty sure it wasn't going anywhere, it's hot, let's go fast!  And it stayed in place just fine.  Live and learn, I guess.  I will admit, though, I'm still a little leery to ride in my car with the windows all the way down... You just never know what can happen...

Right now is probably the best part of my two-week cycle of chemo... It's the more "normal" part, where I feel pretty good.  I'm sleeping through the night (unlike the 3-4 days right after infusion, where the steroids keep me up all night).  I was able to go to Canada with Steve for an overnight at Caesar's Windsor.... I have a decent amount of energy.  I have an appetite.  I'm feeling pretty positive.  And I can say, I only have two of these bi-weekly treatments left.  Then, school will start.  There is a little uncertainty of how I will handle the next phase of my chemotherapy, the Taxol, for 12 weekly treatments.  I hope I continue to have some energy.  I hope I can go back to work with enough enthusiasm that my kids deserve.  I hope I can make it to Drake's soccer games at night.  I hope I can continue to keep a positive attitude throughout this entire ordeal. And, like Red's character, played by Morgan Freeman in the great movie The Shawshank Redemption... A man who has finally been released from prison after 40 some years....he realizes he needs to "get busy living, or get busy dying...."  And chooses living.... He says....rather dramatically, I might add...  "I Hope."  So do I.

Two weeks ago, at this time, I wasn't doing very well... I was having a lot of treatment effects from my first round of chemo.  This time around, I can honestly say, is nothing like the first round.  Yes, I'm a little tired/ fatigued.  But no dizziness.  No real nausea...I've only taken one or two nausea pills since my treatment on Tuesday, in the middle of the night.  I'm not sleeping really well, but that's partly because of the steroids for three days after treatment...they kind of rev you up....I was cleaning out an upstairs closet at 4 in the morning yesterday, organizing a new guest room, and getting things set aside for Steve to take to the Goodwill.  And I can definitely see the light at the end of the tunnel...looking forward to the more "up" part of this cycle.

Yesterday I probably could have laid on the couch for most of the day and been content, but I decided to go to the grocery store.  I said that would be my "one thing" I'd set out to accomplish that day.  That's been kind of a buzzword in my head since this first ordeal... There will be days when I can literally do one thing, and one thing only.  If I work, that may be it.  If I want to clean my house, well, then that may be all the energy I have for that day.  And once I got to the grocery store, I got a phone call from two of my closest friends, Eugene and Anna, asking if I'd like some company.  Eugene and I went to school together and have been great friends since then...his wife and I met, for the first time, at my wedding...she was Eugene's date... And we've been good friends ever since.  Ok. So today I'm going to do two things...get groceries and have company...and set a time for them to visit after I got back from Meijer's.

The grocery store at noon on Saturday can be a little bit of a zoo...it was my second day out, wearing a wig, and I was a little self-conscious...it's this feeling that people are looking at me, and not because I look sick... I don't think I do ( but you would if you saw me without that wig on!  Not Pretty!), but because it still feels like part of a costume... I hope that feeling goes away.  Anyway, I tried out my local wig, the one the girl at the Jackson Crossing helped me try on... And I've wondered aloud in my mind if anyone would ever tell me I have pretty hair again...and it happened...in the frozen food aisle.  A lady came up to me to tell me how "pretty my hair color was, it's just beautiful..."  And just like what happened in Kohl's, I got very emotional, told her thank you, but it was a wig, and only my second time wearing one out.  And I started to cry a little bit.  And this strange lady hugged me.  And I didn't know if I was crying because I thought she really liked my hair, or if she was seeing someone who was obviously wearing a wig, and she was just trying to be be nice.  Part of me wanted to ask her, and part of me just had to get away from her and just keep shopping, going about my business... I hope the more I wear my wigs in public, the more comfortable I'll be in them, and less susceptible to break down and cry.  I hope I can just say "thank you for the compliment."  That will definitely be an improvement in my emotional healing.

My friends stopped over as we were putting away the groceries.  It was so good to see them, we visited for several hours...it was like nothing had changed.  I told them the story about the woman in the grocery store...got emotional again... I guess talking about it helps.  I will say, on the plus side, I probably cut off about 30 minutes of my morning routine...no blow dry, no curling...just makeup, then hair on.  It was kind of liberating, and once school starts I'll probably really appreciate that extra time getting ready for work.  My hair is about 80% gone.  I will really be glad when it's just all gone, because I'm shedding...and worse than a hundred pound German Shepherd and a Ragdoll cat named Henry put together.  I'm lint rolling my pillowcase, my face in the middle of the night...it's crazy!  Things like that they don't tell you about, you have to figure it out on your own.  I'm not sure what you'd actually call that chapter of chemo... "Have a lint roller handy, because there will be little hairs all over your face, and they will make you itchy."  Yuck!

Lots of water and liquids.  Eating every 3 hours.  Taking a Claritin every day.  Resting when my body tells me to, even if it's crawling into bed for a "nap" at 6:30 pm.  Not pushing myself too hard, because it's a different kind of tiredness than I'm used to.  Taking and accepting help...not being too proud.  Appreciating everything my husband is able to do...he's a very good cook, and that really makes things easier for me.  Being thankful Drake has had this time away with his best friend's family, and not had to witness first-hand the hair loss... All are things I'm able to appreciate.  I'm just glad this round is better than the first.  I'm hoping the darkest days of chemo are truly behind me, and now I know more of what to expect.

All of the people who work in Allegiance Oncology and Hematology are pretty impressive.  They remember your name.  They stop to visit with you when you pass them on your way to your various appointments within the very large interior of the office.  They tell you that you look pretty.  They ask how you're doing.  And I'm not just referring to the doctors, but the nurse practitioner, the check- in clerk, the schedulers, the oncology nurses, and the technicians who perform the daily blood draws and pressure checks...Hortensia wasn't even scheduled to see me on Wednesday when I went to get my Neulasta shot, but came out to find me and say hello.  Everyone.  It's a pretty sucky place to have to be, but they sure have figured out a way to make it ok to be there.  And I appreciate it.

But probably the most special person that I saw this week, had to be the pharmacy technician who brought my chemo to my nurse, Tracy.  Her name is Jamie Spry, and she is a former NW Alternative HS student of mine, (shout out!) who I was very close to when she was my student- graduated, I believe, in 1999.  They make a huge deal about getting your chemo drugs...it is triple checked, and I always have to give my name and birth date before each infusion.  This week Jamie told me she "mixed my drugs for me herself, with love."  Then she went on to tell me how much I andeveryone else at my school pushed her to become something, and without our school, she didn't know how she would have turned out.  It was, of course, very humbling to be in that chair, and hear such wonderful things from someone who is having a part in probably saving my life.  She's worked at Allegiance for 10 years, and recently bought her own house.  I'm so proud of her.  Hope we can feature her in our Mountie newsletter as a former NWA alumni.

I've been thinking about my tattoo, the one I want to get when I'm finally finished with this journey...my NP, Ann Winters, has a cute little anchor tattooed on her wrist.  I've looked at it several times, and finally got up the courage to ask her about its significance...she said there is a Hebrew verse about the "anchor of hope," and where she works, it's all about the hope... I get it.  You have to have hope, just walking in those doors.  Every time I walk in, my mindset is hope.  I hope to kill my cancer, every last cell of it, with these terrible, but wonderful, treatments.  I hope my surgeon is able to get it all, and I won't end up on an episode of " Botched," that great tv show where you are just happy to be you and not them.  I hope the cancer hasn't spread...my bone scan results showed it has NOT spread to my bones...big sigh of relief.  I hope my hair grows back.  I hope to have less symptoms this round than the last...so far, so good, but knock on some wood with me, will you?  I hope I am able to keep up my positivity and not let negativity enter into my life.  If I cut you off because you're telling me a story about someone you know who "lost their battle, " or about someone's terrible cancer story,  please don't be offended...just know, I'm doing what I have to do to stay in my own little positive-only frame of mind.  I know there are many people who don't make it, and I do have sympathy and care...I just can't hear about them right now.  I need to hear about the survivors, the ones who are still going...and I will take all the positive comments I can get.

Many thanks this week...cards in the mail, a special delivery from Tracy with organic veggies from her garden (yum!), more food from my mom, lunch and self tanner from my friend Sheri...a special visit from my friend Lisa...and today, flowers on my doorstep...it's all so appreciated.  I've had so many Facebook friend requests...I think the word is spreading about my cancer, and people want to be connected.  I've gotten so many wonderful hair and wig comments...it's a pretty brutal place to be, putting yourself out there like that,  pictures of myself with a buzz cut and a long-haired wig....but I'd rather be upfront than have people guessing, or worse, making fun of me for wearing a wig.  Yes, I am.  And I wore it all day, and it got kind of hot, and snug...and it felt good to take it off at the end of the night...but honestly, the hair had to go.  Every shower was a huge, triple handful loss.  Combing it, brushing it...loss, loss.  The finale had to be, after my two days of short hair, when I picked up a section to " tease" a little bit, and it all just came out.  There were bald spots my hair couldn't cover.  And I knew it was time.  I was about to get in the shower this morning, and couldn't face any more loss...it wasjust too stressful.  So I took a pair of scissors...and cut off all of my hair.  It was a relief, of sorts...to not have to deal with the loss of chunks from the scalp...and my scalp is sore, and tingly where it's coming out...But overall, I think this will be better.  Anything has to be better than having huge globs of hair in your hand...and it was probably a cooking disaster, too.  No one shedding like I was should have been anywhere in the kitchen!  No worries now...my biggest worry, I'm told, is to stand aside when opening the oven door...because your wig can get scorched!  Now how funny is that?

So yesterday I got it in my head that I need a new mattress set,  I think it was after my second chemo treatment was over, and we were riding back home, and the memories came back of those two days, during the worst of my first treatment's effects, and I just couldn't get comfortable, any which way I tried to lay in my bed.  I told Steve we needed a new mattress.  He thought about it for a little less than 3 seconds, and I could tell by the look in his eyes he was ok, he just didn't want to go do the actual shopping for it.  "Oh, no," I told him.  " We have to go together.  There's this entire thing now where they have a machine bed that analyzes your sleeping positions, and steers you in the right direction.  We have to go together."  And away we went.

After my first chemo treatment two weeks ago, I wandered around the new Vermeulen's store...today we headed to Art Van, my go-to shop.  Courteous, nice display, plus...I have a credit card...can't beat all of that.  Ok, so we each took a turn lying on the digital bed, and learned that on a scale of 1-3, 3 being firm and 1 being soft, Steve was on the higher end of firm, and I was still still a 3, but closer to a 2. Ok, no worries, we'd find something we both could live with.

Our sales lady was amazing, no pressure, giving us our own pillows to carry around, and making us lay on our sides to check our spinal alignment.  I told her I was going through chemotherapy and had various times where I had a lot of body aches and had trouble getting comfortable.  She was sympathetic, but not nosy, and I appreciated that.

The first bed...like Goldie Locks...was " too hard."  But that second bed...oh my... It felt just right.  My eyes started to close and I felt a nap overcoming me.  At that point, she handed us a remote control.  WTH?  A remote control?  Oh yes, this, and any bed on the floor if not already a power bed, can be made into a power bed by adding the power platform.  And, none of the beds have to be flipped.  Anymore,  Apparently, a lot has changed in bed making since we bought our set about 12 years ago.  Very interesting.  I woke from my little wanna-be nap and grabbed that remote.  Words like "zero gravity," "head," "foot," and even "massage."  Ooohhhhh.  I likey!  We played around, and decided to try a few other beds.  The next one was too hard.  Another, too soft.  I liked it, but Steve was dying with a big lump between us.  Then I saw a clearance bed...it felt amazing, but I was reminded it comes as-is, with no warranty.  And a typical warranty?  10-15 years, depending on brand.  Ok, scratch that.  I'm a warranty girl, anyone who knows me will vouch for that.  I distinctly remember getting our current mattress replaced after about a year because it had sagged.  Not gonna spend this kind of cash and be s.o.l.  Well, Steve?  "I just want you to get the bed you want.  I want you to be comfortable while you're going through this."  Isn't he an amazing husband?  After trying two to three more beds, we kept going back to our original love...like Sinead O'Connor once sang..."Nothing compares...to youuuu!"  And she was right.  We were able to save a little money by getting a variation of the power bed...we didn't get the full bells and whistles, but are able to elevate the head and feet.  There is actually a setting called "snore," which elevates the head slightly and is supposed to help with that....Steve, if you feel your head going up in the night...well, at least I'm not hitting you, right? ;). The new bed arrives tomorrow.  I also bought a second bed for our old mattresses, to have a guest room in an empty bedroom upstairs.  I've wanted to do that for a long while.

I guess I have energy after a treatment.  I'm hungry, and am ok to shop.  I feel good this morning, too.  I'm pretty sure it's after the neulasta shot this afternoon when my energy takes a dive.  I actually lost about 7 pounds my first week after my first treatment, but gained back about 4 when I started feeling good again.  I wonder if that's to be a pattern, too?  This week will be very telling to me.  I'm curious if I'll have as hard of a time, or if my body will be adjusted a little better.  Please keep good thoughts for me as this week wears on...and I'm pretty sure this will be the last week of my newly cut short hair.  The daily loss is getting to me, it's stressful, and I'm about ready to take care of that stress with a pair of scissors.

So, I'm preparing for the loss of my hair.  With my first treatment, my nurse, Tracy, told me to expect changes over the next few weeks in my hair.  And she was right.  I told my mom that my hair doesn't really feel like my hair anymore.  For one thing, I'm shedding like crazy.  It's in my hairbrush, stuck in my fingertips, on my clothes, and literally blowing on the breeze with my windows of the car rolled down.  Yesterday I sat at Marshall High School's baseball field, watching my son Drake play, and it was a little windy...I felt like little wisps of hair were all around me.  My scalp feels dry, my hair feels lackluster...and yet, I know the inevitable is coming.  I can't stop it.  I've ordered some scarves from an online company, awaiting their arrival early this week.  I also ordered a sleeping cap, because even though I often wake up with my hair soaking wet from my "change," I'm told your head can get cold at night.

Lately I've been obsessed with the wondering if I will keep my eyelashes and eyebrows.  Last night I watched several YouTube videos of women demonstrating how they create eyebrows with makeup tricks...it's amazing what one can do with brushes and powders, pencils and concealer....and of course...some sort of shellac to make it all stay.  Because, as they all remind you, simply touching your forehead, or having a hot flash, can make your beautifully drawn and created brows, simply disappear.  I imagine myself, at school, with a classroom full of students, wiping away an eyebrow without thinking about it....and the whole eyelash thing... I will definitely wear falsies, if I have a need.  But my latest hope is, if I have to lose my hair, please let me keep my eyebrows and eyelashes.  I'm told it's about fifty-fifty if they stay or if they go.

I've felt pretty good these last few days...three days, to be precise.  I'm wondering if this will become a pattern in my treatment?  In the last three days I've been to a baseball game, watched my son close in pitching and get a tremendous hit that was easily a triple, but his sore hamstring made it a double.  I've been to the casino, spent the afternoon at the lake with my mom and Drake, and had lunch and shopped with my friend Sheri.  I've cleaned house, done laundry, and emptied the dishwasher.  I've eaten wonderful meals brought over by my mother in law Florence, my mom, and my sister-in-law Mary.  I've had visits from my Aunt Susie and my mom's friend Claudia.  I've received my gift of the Kathy Van Zeeland purse, a little love from me, to me, and decided it wasn't bling-y enough to carry, and sent it back.  I've watched a few really good movies, including "The Incredible Burt Wonderstone," with Steve Carell, and watched it with my son and his friend.Matt.  I was shocked that the two of them actually stayed upstairs with Steve and I for the entire movie, and we all laughed many times, especially at the character played by Jim Carey.  I had a visit from my son's friend Mark, and enjoyed catching up with him.  He was a regular part of our family for many years, almost like a second son to me.  And tomorrow, Drake is getting his.senior pictures taken, so tonight we got a fashion show as we decided, as a family, what he should wear.  It was a lot of fun, making him model different things, and figuring out what sports he wants to represent in his photos...baseball, of course, as the Jackson High baseball field is the first stop for his locations.  The Armory Arts building will be his second.  The soccer field later in the fall for more photos is a distinct possibility.  And the ocean beaches of Fire Island in New York, when he goes away for a week with his best friend's family

This is the beginning of Senior year events, and I'm grateful I'm able to start the planning...hopefully I'll be well enough throughout the year for more of the execution of those plans.  I'm already looking ahead to his graduation party, and am mildly obsessing, but not really, about the state of my yard, and what it will look like next spring.  "You'll just have to hire someone," is my mom's reasoning, and I know she's right.  I'm not able to do EVERYTHING right now...but I want to be able to do what's most important.  Somehow, I don't want to waste the time that I feel good pulling weeds.  I want to spend them with family.  And friends.  And my students.  People I care about.  So for my visitors, I'm super happy to see you...just please don't judge me if my house isn't as clean as it usually is, or my yard isn't as well groomed.  I'm just happy I feel well enough to greet you at the door and hold that monster of a dog of mine away from you with his two foot tongue...he looks really ferocious, and he may be barking, but just like me, Johann is just happy to see you.

This has been the greatest day since having my first chemo treatment.  I felt really good, and decided to just "go with it."  But first, I have to talk about Tuesday night, and my second experience with the Mystic Tan Spray tanning machine.

I wanted to get another tan, and even though I didn't feel that great, decided to go.  When I got there, I let My girl at the counter know about my feet, and how I had the darkened soles...she sold me a pair of paper stick-on booties for 75 cents, I got ready, lathered up with the white barrier cream (cream you put on areas you don't want to tan, like the palm of your hands and sides of your feet), and entered the booth.  A spray tan consists of you standing in four different positions, and a little brush kind of airbrushes your body, from bottom to top.  It's a little "whish-whish" feel, but when the spray got past my knees, to my thighs, it made a giant "sploosh" sound, and nailed my crotch with a super blast of tanning liquid...and then the machine died.  I stood there, dripping down my legs, and knew the little voice, guiding me through the positions, wasn't going to come back on.

"Hello!" I yelled, knocking on my door.  "I think my machine just died!"  My girl came to the door, brought me a towel, and told me to get dressed.  She had to tear the machine apart, clean it, reset it, and asked me if I wanted to try it again.  The whole thing probably took about 10 minutes, but it felt like an hour.  I told her yes, I definitely wanted to do it, I was already there.  She thought about it for a minute, then said, "I don't think you'll be much darker on the bottom half than the top half."  WTH???  I didn't even think of THAT!  I got back in, did my thing, the machine worked perfectly, and went home, worrying about having darker front legs.  The next day I noticed stains around the sides of my feet...probably from the pooling drips that ran down my legs...definitely not a great look. Anyway, the need for the golden glow, right? :)

Yesterday I woke up and felt considerably better than the day before, and I talked Steve into going to the casino with me.  Granted, it was noon,  on a Wednesday, and when I told him my idea, he suggested we go "sometime later in the week." I simply said "I feel good right now and have no idea when I'll feel ok enough to try again.  Let's go NOW!."  So we went.

Every time we go to Firekeeper's Casino, I drive there, and Steve drives back.  It's been our routine since the place opened, and I thought it would be good to go for a ride and get a change of scenery.  I felt, I'd say, on a scale of 1-10, about a 6 and 1/2.  But, you have to understand, the day before was about a 5, Monday was about a 4, and let's not even talk about last weekend ever again... So, my 6 1/2 self drove us to the casino.  I felt the ride wearing on me, and when we arrived, I sat down at a new machine I wanted to try...I'd seen it pictured in the FK Facebook page...SPHINX 3d.  Right away, the reels made me dizzy.  "Do you think that's the right machine for you to be sitting at?" Steve asked me.  I found a dial to turn off the 3d effect...it was immediate relief to my equilibrium.  We played different games, and I noticed Steve was hovering.  I let him know he could go and do his own thing...like we always do...he still seemed reluctant to leave me, but gave me his general location and stopped lurking over my shoulder, like he was waiting for me to fall off a stool at any second.

I wandered down one row, found some new machines, but realized my "migraine aura " vision was on full blast in the casino.  If I try to explain it to someone who has never had aura, it's like everything in my vision tunnels straight ahead, the light dims, and there is a pressure in the sides of the head like where the peripheral vision was stripped away...it's uncomfortable, my left eye also gets a little blurry, and it feels a little like I'm drunk, with cloudy vision.  But that little inconvenience was not going to ruin MY time away from home.  I've taught a classroom full of students with such an ailment...it certainly wasn't going to stop me from having fun.  :). However.... It became obvious, even to me, the "casino energizer bunny," who keeps going, and going, and going, long after everyone is ready to go home, that it was time to leave.  I think Steve was shocked.  "Kim, we don't have to leave.  I can just watch you."  No, I needed to get out of there.

The ride home was excruciating.... I felt dizzy, nauseous, and just needed to be HOME!  However, I wanted to get Drake a new taillight for his car, so we stopped by the salvage yard and for $65 got my son's car fixed up, good as new.  However, that extra time killed me, and by the time we got home, I
took a nausea pill, laid down, and just hoped that the room would stop spinning shortly.  It did, and I took a migraine pill, a bath, and relaxed for the rest of the night.  I woke up and felt great.

I've learned that many of my aura-like effects may be due to my anti-nausea med...compazine.  When I researched the drug online, I learned that it is actually an anti-psychotic drug, generally used for the treatment of schizophrenia.  "Well, that's just great.  Maybe during this whole cancer ordeal, I won't talk to myself!"  Gotta see the humor in these multi-use drugs.  When I called the triage nurse, Sue, to complain about that particular med, I thought she'd get me switched to a different anti-nausea...instead, she called back to let me know I had a new drug added, to combat the side effects of the compazine.  "Holy crap!"  I thought.  And the drug prescribed is actually a mood stabilizer drug, used to treat depression.  Well, if I wasn't depressed, or psychotic, or nauseous before this whole ordeal, at least I wouldn't be DURING it.  Sometimes you just gotta laugh.

There's that moment right before calling the oncology office when you ask yourself... "Is this an EMERGENCY?"  That was what I asked myself this morning, making a call at 7:30, as soon as the office opened for business.   I have a list of symptoms that are considered an emergency situation...a fever over 100.5... Uncontrollable vomiting or diarrhea...the old standby of not breathing or having various body parts swell up.... But what about the symptoms that just don't feel "normal"?  Like....I've been SO fatigued that I just can't get comfortable, even to sleep... I've felt dizzy when in a sitting position, almost like I want to topple over to a lay-down position...and the old stand by...I'm so tired, just showering or getting dressed to do anything...tires me out.  I've felt like an epic failure these last four days, because I really wanted to be different...someone who doesn't look sick...feel sick...act sick...and have  cancer.  Apparently, I'm still not doing any skating....

Well. I was awake every hour on the hour last night, just waiting for the office to open so I could ask my questions....mainly....is this normal?  And, what can you do for me to make this stop?  Is there a shot?  A pill?  Something to make me feel like I did a week ago, before my first chemo treatment?  Apparently, this is very normal.  There is no right or wrong way to how a person's body responds to chemo...according to Sue, the triage nurse, I may be having a reaction in accordance with my body.  After all, that Neulastat shot is working in my bones, she reminded me.  It is suggested I drink more fluids, try Gatorade or juices, take little naps, take a Claritin, take Tylenol....basically, things I've been trying to do since this fog hit.  Sue also wants me to call her in the morning if I'm not easing out of this stage of the chemo cycle so they could check my levels, make sure I don't have anemia, need a transfusion, blah blah blah blah blah..

  I already have a bone scan scheduled for tomorrow morning...and I've made arrangements for a ride.  Hard to believe I don't trust myself to even drive a car...I'll say it again if I haven't already...Thank God I don't have to work.  Because right now...I...could...not.  I'm glad I've made this decision to do the hardest part first (who made that decision?  Oh yeah, I did)...during a time of the year when I can concentrate on nothing but ME.  But, it's not easy giving up control...and that's essentially what's going on here... I have no control over where these symptoms take me next.  According to a new book given to me called Getting Past the Fear: a Guide to Help You Mentally Prepare for Chemotherapy- by Nancy Stordahl, the author had my exact chemo cocktail, and spoke of the lethargy and fatigue.  My two drugs, adriamycin (nicknamed the red devil) and cytoxan are an especially potent cocktail, made to kill my cancer.  I need to remind myself that...I'm Killing my Cancer... And probably a few brain cells along the way, too. :). And I need to be good to myself right now.  If I was bald right now, I honestly don't think I'd even put on a wig...because that's how little I've cared about my appearance...it's just getting through this moment, this hour, this day... And hoping tomorrow is even better...

Truth:  I do feel a little better today than yesterday.  At this moment I'm typing on my iPad...yesterday, reading took too much concentration for more that a paragraph or two.  Truth:  I'm eating healthy, if little meals, mainly provided by loving family or my husband...I have no will to cook, but love those fresh green beans and soup, chicken and fruit....truth: I'm not giving up, this has just been a bump in my road.  I'm still gonna kick this cancer's ass...it's just a little more difficult than I originally imagined.

I've got to admit, I was really hoping I'd be one of those lucky ones, "skating" through their chemo with few to any side effects.  These past two days I've really been put in my place, so to speak.  I'm convinced I'm having the side effects that go with the second day chemo injection, the one intended to build up my white cell count.  The effects can be flu-like, with dizziness and fatigue.  Check, check, check.  Little sleep, appetite, and motivation?   Check, check, and check again.  Skating?  From the bed, to the couch, to a sitting position...probably the stupidest thing I did was go for a bike ride.

At about 11 yesterday morning, I was convinced all I needed to snap out of this funk was some fresh air and exercise.  "Steve!"  I yelled.  "Let's go for a bike ride."  He thought I was joking...I was kind of dizzy and didn't have a great amount of balance, but I wanted to do something, dammit!  Something to make me feel normal!  We rode all of about 5 miles, and I was a little short of breath (another of those side effects listed with my shot), and forgot to put on sunscreen.  We got back and I was so dizzy I kind of fell on the couch...what the hell was I thinking?  That somehow by acting normal, I could be normal?  Yes, I think that's exactly where my mind was at.

I then got it in my head that I wanted to try that Mystic Tan spray tan booth at my tanner...first visit is free, and if I like it, I can change my regular membership over to the spray kind, as I can't tan in the beds anymore, anyway.  I watched a few YouTube videos, and researched online the prep work for your body before getting one of those spray tans...mainly shaving, exfoliating your body really well in the shower, and lots of lotion.  Well, that was a lot of work!  I had to rest up from all that scrubbing.  Flipping channels on the tv, I came across one of those home shopping shows, where an entire hour was devoted to Kathy Van Zeeland purses....my favorite!  Omg, maybe I need a new purse?  As a gift for myself.  For the whole cancer and chemo thing.  Yes'm that black lizard one looks amazing, large and Bling-y...just my style.  Gotta have it.  Never ordered from a tv show before...does that make me pathetic?  Or smart?  It IS on clearance...regularly $109, for $52.86.  I'm a regular smart shopper.  And I really do need a new wallet...how about a black lizard Guess one to go with my new purse?  eBay has always been my go-to spot...yep!  There it is.  A little love, coming to me in the mail, from me.  I feel almost better, already...maybe after this little nap...

Ok, it's 7:00...if I'm gonna tan, gotta go now.  That means I have to drive my car.  Oh, yeah, Steve picked it up from the detail shop...better at least look at it and see how it looks...yeah, it looks nice.  Sorry I can't really appreciate my shiny chrome wheels and wax job...let's just hope I can drive straight! At the tanner I get step by step instructions on how to do the mystic...lots of barrier cream on feet, hands, elbows, etc.  places you don't want to grab the most and turn streaky or orange.  It was kind of fun, I got dressed and drove out to the lake to visit my mom and her friend Judy...visited about an hour, them came home.  No showering for 4-6 hours...I showered this morning and got the biggest surprise of my life.  My feet...the soles...are totally orangey brown.  Now how in the hell did that happen? More scrubbing...more dizziness...I swear, who knew showering could take so much out of a person?  I'll post a picture, it's kind of funny.  This brown foot stain is maybe an analogy for what I'm going through right now...it's telling me to "plant my feet and stop trying to do so much!  You are going through chemo right now.  You don't have to do it all.  Just focus on this moment.  You will be ok.  You will, eventually, be able to do things like you used to do.  You just can't RIGHT NOW.  Just rest those ugly, orangey brown soles for a lil' bit."   And I can live with that.

Well, it's 2:00 in the morning and I've been awake since midnight.  I crashed about 10:00 ( maybe some of that fatigue they warned about?) but was woken up with a bright light shining in my face two hours later...thanks Steve!  Glad your kindle is working for you.  Now I'm nauseous, awake, and trolling Facebook in the living room.

I had to go for part two of my chemo yesterday (today)? which was a shot called Neulastat (sp?). It's purpose is to help rebuild my white cell count that the chemo from the day before attacked...they don't want you to have a totally depleted immune system, so this is the reason for the shot.  Pain level?.. About a 4... Nothing compared to the cortisone injections in my foot...but still...potential to feel flu- like, and achy the next few days.  I've taken 3 nausea pills in the last two days, and they do help... And I noticed I was all flushed in my chest and face yesterday...Tracy my nurse told me that's the decadron (steroids) that I'm on for the next 3 days.  Her patients all come back for their shot with rosy cheeks and a red chest.  Well...it's kind of like I was in he sun :). But really.... Thank God for the pharmaceutical companies...I can't believe how many prescriptions and drugs one person can be on.  It's a little confusing...I even wrote in marker on each pill bottle words like "nausea" and "after chemo" just to keep them all straight.  My son Drake has shown serious interest in being a pharmacist or bio-chemical or bio-medical engineer...I could so see him, creating these life-saving drugs in a lab, alleviating someone's side effects... Helping cure cancer... it's unbelievable what science has done for us.

There are three stories that have resonated pretty heartily with me from the Chix Soup book that my friend Karen gave me... One is about a first grade teacher who had a special little boy in her class who wouldn't get his hair cut.  His mom was embarrassed, and at parent teacher conferences confided she didn't have the heart to cut it because her son said that he "wouldn't be Daniel without his long hair."  A few years later, the teacher got cancer, and had to take a leave off...I'm guessing they didn't have that shot back then to rebuild her immune system...anyway...several years later, Daniel came to visit her.  He was leaving the elementary school for high school, and she noticed his short hair.  They didn't talk about it, but the teacher ran into Daniel's mom a few days later...long story short, it was his first hair cut, and he donated it to locks of love for children with cancer... And it was his first grade teacher's cancer battle that inspired him to do it.  Will I inspire any of my students to do something kind, selfless, even years later?  It's awesome to think about...

The second story was a woman whose sister got cancer, and to show her love, she cooked for her, researching the best cancer fighting foods, phytochemicals, like sweet potatoes, fruit, cruciferous veggies, tomatoes, etc, that can all help build a strong immune system ..she invented what she called "chemo Popsicles."  Lots of frozen berries, fresh fruit juices, and...get this...tofu...blended in a blender, and frozen in Popsicle tubes.  I've asked my mom to make me some.... Actually she got the ingredients yesterday...can't wait to try one and see how they are.  According to the author of that story, they soothed her sister's mouth sores and tummy.... She cooked for her sister, stocked her freezer with little microwaveable meals, then flew home.  My mother in law told me she was bringing us dinner today, my mom bringing chemo Popsicles later...the love is coming in edible packages, that's for sure.

The most important line, so far, from this book, has been from a woman who when she told her friend she had cancer, her friend replied..."you'll never feel so loved."  The woman with cancer was dumbfounded by that response....she said...until the phone calls, cards, packages, visits, and prayers and support started rolling in.  That is how I feel...  Cared about.  Whether it's a card in the mail (I'm keeping every single one), or a personal message on Facebook ( can't believe how many people checked in on me after my first treatment of chemo), or a phone call, or roses (thank you Barbara!), or even just being asked how I'm doing in person, I appreciate it all.  Thank you, everyone, for making us feel loved...not just me, but my husband and son.  I know people have reached out to Steve and Drake, and they need love and support right now, too.  I've said all along since this diagnosis... I'll do anything the doctors ask me to do... And I'll take all the help and support I can get.  Thank you.

This is actually a continuation of my last post...I had trouble saving it, and the last part got cut off.  Maybe it was telling me I wrote too much? ;). Anyway....

Planning has been a blessing for me.  Planning for step 2b, which will be the second round of my chemo drugs, which I start after going back to school in September, has been on my mind.  They are weekly, and supposedly, easier to manage.  I'm in the hardest round, right now.  However, I'm told the fatigue kind of gets more pronounced at that time.  So I'm trying to make a schedule for back to school- one that's best for me, my kids, and my coworkers.  It's only for 12 weeks...up until Thanksgiving.  Then I will get to step 3... My surgery.  Then, step 4...radiation...hopefully I will be done before spring break.  We teachers always say our years aren't dictated by January to December, but by August to June, with marking periods and those wonderful breaks thrown in for good measure. Likewise, this ordeal began for me on my first day of summer vacation, and I'm looking forward to chemo' send by thanksgiving, Christmas vacation, and hopefully, the end of all things in this planned course of attack...spring break.  I have my condo booked, and haven't yet purchased the insurance for cancellation...I've gotta have faith that I'll be in Daytona Beach, playing in the ocean and laying in the sun, celebrating my victory.

Today I entered step 2 of sending this cancer on its way out of my body...permanently.  I had my first chemotherapy treatment.

I've thought about it, and have divided step one into various stages.  Step 1a was recognizing there was a problem.  Step 1b...calling the doctor and having the various medical appointments, like a mammogram, physical exam, biopsy, etc. to detect the problem.    Step 1c...getting the actual diagnosis...my problem now had a name...Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, triple negative.  Step 1d was forging a plan of attack, from my surgeon and oncology team.  They made me a partner in my treatment, including choice of order of attack.  Step 1e was was preparing for the attack with surgery, including lymph node removal, and port placement.  Step 1f was additional testing... A ct scan, blood work, and including a bone scan that I will have on Thursday. Step 1g has been ongoing...the healing... physically from the surgery, and the ACCEPTANCE emotionally of all the previous steps, a through g.  I feel that right now, at 4:00 in the morning after my first round of chemotherapy, that I'm in a better place than I was in steps 1a-1f.

The night before, I packed my bag to go to my first chemo visit.  A red patterned 31 bag my mom gave me, with lots of little pockets.  Magazines, books, check, check.  Water, diet Pepsi?  Check, check.  IPad, turquoise blanket my mother in law Florence gave me, made by women at Queen's, her church?  Check, check.  Even a book from my friend Karen, "Chicken Soup for the Breast Cancer Survivor's Soul", and "Jesus Calling," a book from my friend Janie (and her husband wanted me to be sure it wasn't Jesus "calling me home"). Gotta love that.  Check. Check.  And last, but not least, a piece of pink camo ribbon, that came on my "sunshine basket" from my friends at work, tied to the handle..."for the fight," Sabrena had told me....that felt just right.  I was ready.

Now...what does one wear to a chemo appointment.  "Steve, when we toured the infusion room, were those people wearing gowns, or regular clothing?"  "Regular clothes," my hubby said.  Hmmm...I'm not a person who goes out in public in jammy pants, but that sounded comfortable for a five hour visit in a recliner.  What kind of shirt?  I was clueless.  Ended up wearing a regular old "kim" outfit...Capri jeans and a scoop neck shirt.  Perfect!  As the shirt only had to be pulled aside a little bit for port access.

Chemo, I was told, would be 5 hours long my first round, so Steve and my mom had broken it into shifts...Steve would get me there at 9:50, stay with me for the first part of my treatment, and my mom would get there at 12:30 , watch the "Young and the Restless" with me, and take me home when those five hours were up, around 3:00.  So I was very surprised when I was told I would be done about 12:45-1:00.  "Don't I have to be here, for my first visit, for five hours?  Stay a few hours to make sure I don't have any reactions?  They double-checked twice, and no, I didn't.  Better call my mom, or she'll miss the whole thing!

The first hour was all about the pre-chemo...they accessed my port for the first time, that hard little disc implanted in my right chest.  Steve looked out the window...couldn't watch...and I couldn't look away.  Basically, a needle stick, more painful than a traditional IV, but not intolerable, then it was over.  Added a line.  Got a good blood flow, which meant it was working.  Hallelujiah!   No clue there could even be a problem...which would have meant "fiddling" with it, or worst case scenario, it could be broken, and need to be surgically fixed.  Good news...it worked right away!  A saline flush.  Drew two vials of blood.  Then Sent me to the infusion room, with a dangling IV from my chest

It seems the infusion room, the large space where chemotherapy is administered, has been operating at full capacity for a while now, so my regular assigned seat was taken, so it took a minute to get me a chair.  I got seated, situated, then about five minutes later they told me I was going to be moved.  For my first time, they wanted me near the nurse's station.  Ok, no big deal.  Even though I had a primo view of that waterfall, and every tv around me seemed to have on the "Price is Right."  I don't know why, but I love that game show, and I've watched it regularly since college, when I would pedal my bike back to my apartment, eat lunch between classes, and turn it on with my roommate Donna. Every school vacation or if I'm home sick, I watch it.  Somehow, it's comforting to me...so it was a normal, almost welcome sound, full of good memories in my life, in an abnormal, non-comforting environment, and somehow felt right to me hearing that background voice of "Come On Down!!!" while getting my first cancer treatment.  Sound crazy?

Well, my mom got there about noon, Steve left shortly after, and my mom got to watch the administering of my first actual chemo drug.  Steve was there for my first round of meds, that went directly through the line in my port.  I didn't feel a thing, just chatted with the nurses and volunteers that came through.  The first volunteer had snacks and drinks..."You're So Young!"  She blurted out to me.  Ok.  I'll have an iced tea and some animal crackers please.  My husband wanted a coffee.  What do you say to that?  Is there a proper response?  I'm still wondering what that response would be.  I'm 45 years old, middle-aged, but probably not what the majority of her snack customers look like.  Oh well, cancer can happen to anyone...food for thought, I guess.

Anyway, the first round is several Iv's for anti-nausea, saline solution, and decadron, a steroid, that I will also be ingesting orally over the next two days, and basically getting prepped for my two-drug , bi-weekly cocktail, to come.  My nurse, I hate to say it, was my clone on a better day.  I immediately loved her...super tan, long blonde hair, 43, former softball player who now coached her daughter's softball team, and rocking some neon pink and yellow scrubs.  Super friendly, she told me I could indeed do the mystic tan spray tanning during my treatment, and she "got it."  She told me how for 21 years shed been an RN, 18 in oncology, and how chemotherapy wasn't the same as it was when she started...not even the same as five years ago!  The biggest change is how they are able to combat the many side effects more effectively.  Like that hour of nothing but drugs to combat the effects of what was being hand pushed into me by her, now completely adorned in a blue suit covering, plastic face shield, and sterile gloves.  For any kind of spray.  It is highly toxic.  It's a poison.  "It's killing your cancer," she said to me, more than once, and reiterated it to my mother, who looked a little shell-shocked at Tracy's new attire for this portion of my visit.  Two vials, hand injected over about ten minutes, then two hanging bags of drug #2.   During the last ten minutes of the last chemo drug, my head and face started getting tight.  Like a major sinus cold coming on...I had a big sneeze, and a little of the pressure was relieved, but it was still there.  Wow!  Is this normal?  I asked my other nurse.  Yes, it is, but we want you to stay here until it subsides.  About 10 minutes after my IV was removed, I felt pretty normal.  We walked out, decided we were both starving, and went to get some lunch.

We got sub sandwiches, and I walked around the new Vermeulen's, waiting for my sandwich.  Went home and ate.  Looked through my instructions and cancer 101 folder.  Tried on all my wigs and hats for my mom.  She tried some on.  We laughed, and decided to go to the crossing, I needed more wig stands.  A new pillow, maybe a silk or satin pillowcase, as Tracy told me that can help you keep your hair "a little bit longer," and a cute butterfly barrette for one of my wigs.  Set up my wigs, and trying to figure out what to do with them...I think my dining room table is not the best place, but for now, it'll have to do until I organize a spot in my closet...luckily, Henry, my cat, hadn't noticed them yet :)
It was a pretty normal night.  I really felt fine, maybe a little tired about 7:00, but I figured pretty normal, after all I'd been through that day.  And I was right...I felt better AFTER my visit than I did before...the unknown is what gnaws at you, eats away your spirit, casts doubt on little pieces of your life...knowing is better than not knowing.  For me, anyway.  But.....

I would tell anyone who thinks they might have a "problem," to get to the doctor immediately and get checked out.  More than likely, it's nothing.  But if it's something, I still feel that knowing is a lot better than burying your head in the sand and hoping the symptoms will "just go away."  A lot of time, time is of the essence...who knows if I had just waited until "later," if I would still be at stage 2?  It's really been a blessing that I've been on summer vacation, and had the time to rest, think, and plan.

Today I'm writing about my hair.  I think most cancer patients will agree that the loss of their hair is a pretty bitter pill to swallow.  I found a blog of a young woman, early thirties, with a new-born baby, battling cancer.  I think her blog was called "mommybeatingcancer," or something similar.  She posted pictures of her hair regrowth every month, and it was an awesome site...really gave me hope that this loss is only temporary, that "this too shall pass."  But until I have my hair back, the way I want it, I'm going to plan for the storm and be like that ever-ready boyscout...always prepared...

And this really has been a pretty good last couple of days.  Yesterday Drake had a baseball game in Lansing, and I learned that it was exactly one block from an amazing wig shop that everyone says is just the best in helping chemo patients get ready for hair loss.  I called my insurance company, learned that wigs (excuse me...cranial prosthesis. :) are indeed covered, and I am allowed two wigs in a 12 month period, and they will reimburse me if I buy it at a non-participating shop.  When I learned that I can not only get one wig, but two, and the dollar amount was incredibly more than I originally thought, I was pretty excited.  (Well, as excited as anyone can get shopping for fake hair). If anyone is interested, the shop is called Elegance Studio, and their web site is amazing.  They claim to have over 1500 wigs...in stock....I called, made my appointment, and went there ready to spend some money.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm kind of weird about my hair...I often cut it myself, highlight it in my bathroom, get it cut professionally about once a year, and couldn't imagine spending big bucks regularly at the salon...but still, I love my hair.  And I am not lying when I say I am often told that I have pretty hair.  In fact, today I was in line to get a new card at Soaring Eagle, and the lady smiled at me, and told me how pretty my hair looked.  It's an incredible compliment, but a shot to the gut, all at the same time.  I just said "thank you."  At least I didn't burst into tears like I did in Kohl's when a woman told me the same thing about 3 weeks ago, and I had to leave the store.  I think I've definitely made progress in coming to terms with this impending, inevitable loss.

Anyway, I know I already have two wigs...the one I bought in town, and the one my girlfriend gave me, and they are both very nice.  I'm sure I will have TEN wigs before this ordeal is over, and while I like them both, and will definitely wear them, I like the idea of being fitted and treated by a professional.

Pamela, the owner of the shop, had me wait while she set up, in an area that looked like a beauty shop.  She played with my own hair, learned about me, and asked questions about my personality.  She devised that I am a "girly-girl" who likes wearing makeup and doing my hair.  She pulled my hair into a cap, and brought out a longish blonde wig, and put it on my head.  I learned that I have a "standard-sized" head....(she couldn't say that about my size 10 feet, but that's beside the point...) anyway, she started playing with it, moving the part around, plumping the top, etc.  As she was doing this,  she was telling me about the different kind of wigs.  Hand tied...where each strand is tied into the cap, machine-woven (equals hot!  Not good for someone who's been told she will go right into moenopause with the chemo!) mono-filament (which means you can move the part around), lace-front, synthetic, and real, human hair.  I tried on several wigs...a woman who was training in the salon would nod approval, or kind of shake her head at me behind her bosses' head , and I really didn't like anything that was short, or too bleachy- blonde, or too curly.  She brought them to me, and I tried them on.  I tried on anything she brought me, but I told her I really wanted to try a human hair wig...I know they are the most expensive, but also, the most realistic, for obvious reasons.  She put one on me, and I was sold!  It was dark, but styled kind of similar to my natural hair.  I really loved it.

I took two pictures, "selfies," of myself, and sent them to my mom by text.  Of the blonde one, my dad asked, "Is Kim wearing a wig?"

Want to hear the irony?  I ended up getting the very first wig she tried on me, and the brunette one, made of real human hair.  I also bought a baseball hat with long hair attached to it, and a little cap to wear....whenever you want a break from a wig, I guess.  She mentioned how your head can get cold...wow!  Never even thought of that, and all sorts of accessories necessary to maintain your stable of hairpieces...

Being prepared feels good.  And I even made my son's baseball game, and watched him make a stunning, running, over-the-shoulder catch in left field that ended the game with a win...I was so proud of him.  And I want him to never be embarrassed of me, of the way I look...even though I'm going to be sick, I still want to feel beautiful... I wonder if anyone will tell me how pretty my hair is when I'm wearing one of my wigs???