Round Two: Red Devil, Strong as Hell, But I'm Going Down Swinging

Well Round 2 was less scary. No tears prior to the port access, but my hands began to sweat immensely, as did my feet. Not a great thing when the feet sweat. I confess, my feet...whew! It's a miracle I found a fiance who has NO sense of smell whatsoever. Of course than I have to be the one to discover gas leaks or smoke, and no one to verify if it's in my head.

On this particular round, I took my mother with me. My cousin Maria was on the schedule, but a work emergency came up and could not be avoided. So I brought my daughter to my mom's, so that my step dad could take her to school. Neither of them realized how long this day would be. The first time it went from 915 am to 230 pm, which meant we needed to head out at 845 and would get back around 300. It's an all day process.

This may just be how long the red devil takes, I'll find out in January I guess, when I start a different medication. That one could take less time.

We arrived and checked in. This is my favorite part (well this was my favorite part til the heartburn thing kicked in), getting coffee. Then there is the prep...my not so favorite part. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about this whole process. I'm still not feeling well. It's almost worse than last time, but not as bad in some ways as well. All the symptoms seemed to have began sooner and I'm afraid of round 3.

Anyway, they do the blood pressure, port access, and blood draw. As I mentioned above, my hands began to sweat from the idea of the port being accessed. I don't feel like this will change going forward. But the more it's done and isn't so terrible, the less likely I will be sweating. It did seem to bother my mom when she realized what was happening. I can understand that. She went from Jake who was stoic about every aspect and I burst into tears at anything new. I can't imagine what will happen if this comes back within five years and it's more of this, but worse. I'm a horrible patient.

Anyway, it went smoothly, but the blood pressure cuff agitated my right arm, the same side as where as my lumpectomy. It appeared to make my arm very, very tender.

We were shown back into the lobby to wait for the doctor. It was another delayed day, I guess. As we waited I ran into one of the ladies from the make up course I had done the week before. She was with who I could only assume was her granddaughter.

After a brief conversation with them, we were called back again. This time to see the nurse and the doctor. The nurse was in and out, and then we sat and waited patiently for a busy oncologist. The appointment went longer than anticipated because we need to discuss the side effects of the first treatment and the ways we could combat hose issues. The blood results were also great, except the ALT, but I had the alcohol..soo... And this reflects liver stuff. It was very low in a good way previously as I had not drank in the weeks leading up to that week, so I'm fairly confident that this is why those numbers were raised.

Anyhoo, after all of that we went back to the lobby to wait another 10 minutes for my infusion station to be ready. In the meantime, I gave information to the schedulers about the free wigs at a local mall related to cancer patients. A friend, Kathy had passed this along to me and I thought it would be great to share with the office. They were very excited about it and made up fliers immediately to share with the other patients. It felt nice to know that both my friend and I were able to help. 

After my lunch order was taken we finally were called back. I dropped more brochures off at the station from my wig store that I loved. And then we got settled in. My mom started crocheting and I started pulling out my computer to email work. I forgot to set up my out of office email. I'm not used to being out like this.

My pictures of treatment this week turned into before and afters. It appears that 10 minutes after they injected the red devil, there was definitely a color change to my palor. My mom noticed it and I almost laughed, cause I felt it too.

 Before, only pre meds, like nausea meds at this point...

10 minutes after the first chemo...red devil. Holy hannah..not a good look at all. Makes me queezy looking at the pic.

Once it was 230, they were wrapping it up and putting the Nuelasta pack on me again. 

The first few days I actually didn't feel too terrible. Okay, that's a lie, I did feel terrible, but the way I felt the days following those, I'd give anything to feel that good right now. Ugh!

The days that followed included some fun insomnia, rancid heartburn (in some ways worse than before), a counseling appointment, and another heart test. This was all the while my 40th birthday rolled around and we discovered shaving my head would also occur on this day due to the hair loss. It's been an adjustment and although I had picked out a wig and everything, suddenly I became self conscious about it.

I'm not looking forward to work either for all of these reasons. I'm embarrassed and I don't want pity. I share this story because like I've said before I love to write and I overshare, but it's in no means a cry for pity or attention. The embarrassment of all of this and feeling so horrible, it's very debilitating in so many ways. And sometimes you just want to crawl in bed and not get out, but you can't because you have a 5 year old or because heart burn is so bad you can't lay down or because everyone wants you to be happy and positive. It's exhausting. Worrying about money and the future and paperwork and other people's crap...it's so overwhelming I feel like I'm drowning..and I've only had two treatments.

This is definitely the part of the week where my writing is so lacking. I feel like a complete zombie right now, just trying to form a sentence. Until later...

Bridesmaids' Selecting Their Dresses - The Wedding

What a fabulous way to end my weekend before another fun week of chemo and recovery begins. Once again my wonderful friend Katie from California flew into town last minute, on a red eye, to come to another wedding event. The bridesmaid shopping.

Wait...red eye? What? Oh come on! I have this great friend, Uber...  But in all seriousness, she did offer to take an Uber or a Lyft because she knew it was super late and both Kevin and I had to work early in the morning.

The irony was that I had a horrible time falling asleep because I was afraid I would oversleep and not hear her when she arrived in order to let her in. By the time I feel asleep, I probably only slept 10 minutes before the alarm went off at 1220 am.

She finally arrived around 1240 am and we talked for 5 minutes before we both rushed off to bed. Not only did Kevin (sweet fiance) and I have to work in the morning, but so did our guest. The life of  a super smart program engineer. My other out of towner, Jen will do the same thing. Always having to take their work with them. I think there is this part of me that says I refuse to work that hard, but I guess between working full time, raising my daughter, planning a wedding, going through chemo, and still writing in numerous platforms, I guess I work hard. No wonder I have no time for cleaning.  How on earth do I still feel lazy?

Okay, back to the point of all of this...

(I needed to post dresses on the evite) DONE. Now I can focus. Whew!

Bright and early I jetted off to work so I could rush back and spend time with my friend. (Hmmm...I'm not sure how that did anything for getting back sooner, I left at the same time at the end of the day? This brain is going to be a problem for awhile, bear with me.) The next day would be the big day of trying on dresses and just simply having a wonderful time.  Food, drinks, and merriment.

Friday went by quickly and before I knew it I was back home...but my guest was gone. Where could she be?  She had no vehicle with which to travel. As I set down my purse and looked for Kevin, I received a text. Ahhh! Katie was at the local Starbucks working (of course) and wanted a lift home. I got back in the car and rushed over to pick her up. (This woman was going to take a Lyft and the Starbucks is about a half a mile or so from my house.)

I pulled into the parking lot and spotted her right away in the window, ripping her hair out in front of a laptop. Work must be stressful. However, she was not literally ripping it out, but definitely grabbing at it in frustration. Did I mention how hard she works at her job? (My daughter saw her working at the house and wanted to be just like her and work like Katie. It was adorable).

I immediately texted her jokes.

"I see you"
"In the window"
"You are pretty...he he he"
"I'm your stalker"
"Is your phone on silent?"

Then there were gifs I sent of stalkers and things. 

I finally went to facebook messenger. She was on a lap top and her phone must have died. Yet, I couldn't seem to get her attention via facebook either as it was a work computer and she is smart enough not to be on social media sites on a work computer. I even sent a picture of herself in the window to really be that creepy stalker and get her attention. She kept looking at the clock on the wall, expecting my arrival, so I guess the dream of not getting out of the car was not happening.

I popped in and called her name out. Nothing. I took another step in and called out louder. No response. Finally, "Katie!" I yelled. She turned around but not before a voice to my right yelled out my name. It was my Matron of Honor's (Melissa) youngest daughter. Man! They are getting so big and making me old.

Speaking of the Melissa, she was on our her to join the crowd at my house, so we needed to get going. Katie still had to work once we got back but after a few more hours she could relax with us til about midnight. We needed to get some rest. We had been late for the bridal fitting previously, and we were ensuring that we would be late again if we continued to stay up late and, drink...

The next day we arrived, Katie, Deb, and I to the dress shop and I believe all of them (of course) that could make it had beat us there. Six women got measured and we still have four left.  It's a whole lot of ladies, but it's my wedding. I can do what I want. It's very freeing to say that and believe that. I can follow some traditions, but the reality is I can do whatever I want. So I will have the PAs and the ushers join the rest of the party at the head table. Why not? And the PAs were being fitted for dresses.  Again, why not? The ushers tend to closely match the groomsmen in attire, so why shouldn't the PAs (Personal Attendants) match the Bridesmaids? And finally, I have another wonderful friend marrying us, another Angie (not photographed below). It couldn't be a better line up of awesome people representing me. Encompassing years of my life. It's beautiful.

Anyhow, I digress...the winning pics for the ladies in attendance are as follows... (and the other four will pick theirs at another date and they dodge the showcase on my blog...for now...mwahahaha!)

Misty = Bridesmaid/friends for about 15 years? Maybe 20. All dresses will be wine, but Misty's will be the short version of the above, no slit. I'm not sure what's happening with the hand...and I'm not sure we need to know.

Katie = Bridesmaid/friends since high school. Buying the dress off the rack and wearing it to a Christmas party. Getting her money's worth. She really wanted to wear it home on the plane, but I feared for the safety of the dress.

Tami = Bridesmaid/Cousin - This dress will also be purchased in the shorter version. The dresses are more matte/flat textured in the short version, but also not as shiny as some that were satin in nature, so I felt comfortable with it. I'm not a giant fan of satin, but less of the lace.

Maria = Personal Attendant/Security/Bouncer/Cousin - now I picture her giving me the look until I say, "Favorite Cousin" - After twisting her arm, I got her in a dress. There were several ladies who didn't like my picture taking skills. Hmm... I warned them that I was taking a picture, I held the phone up, and said here it goes. The faces the make is on them, not the photographer. :P

Deb = Bridesmaid/friends for 6 years - Deb and Maria like the same dress twice, but this was their final decision. I did listen to both Deb and Maria and cut out their socks. :D

Angie = Bridesmaid/friends since high school - And this is the exact dress she chose, other than the color. Three of the styles match and two others so far as well. I believe the Maid of Honor also liked this style that Angie, Misty, and Tami selected...so we'll see. :) And they have pockets!  Woo hoo!

It must be added that this dress, shown below, was Tami's first pick. The best part of this dress was a picture I never got. They got the dress on her and it just didn't seem to look right. The front was tight and the back of it was completely loose and sagging. The back and front are exactly the same except for this sagging issue in the back. It also zipped on the side. After Maria examined her dress for about a minute, she stepped back and said, "Boo, you have it on backwards." Boobs in the front, Tam. We were all dying.

Then she gets it on and she is fiddling with the feathery extra material. This is where the dress got the kabash. She would be playing with that the entire wedding most likely, like a kid with their woobie. (I bet you thought I was gonna say something else...I would have said man...not kid.)

After they said yes to many dresses and paid, we went to lunch. After waiting 10 minutes to be seated at Buffalo Wild Wings, maybe 15 minutes, 6 of us were squeezed into a booth. Mind you, they thought we had 7. There was a table with 6 chairs, but that would be a fire hazard to add a chair to the end of the table. And I guess squeezing 7 adults into a booth really designed for 4 is not? Okay.

We ordered our drinks right away. (um..right away after she finally arrived about 10 minutes later. a total of 30 minutes passed, after being seated, and the restaurant had begun to empty a bit. The 6 chaired table sat empty the whole time and not bused. We had also been told if we didn't want the booth we would have to wait a half an hour for a new table. Salt in the wound as this table was right next to ours. People were still waiting in the entrance for a table, as well...really!?

I thought it was due to availability, but it not only took the girl 30 minutes to get to it, it also took her a good 10 minutes to clear it. No sight of our waitress other than her bringing drinks to a family that was seated about 15 minutes after us. Before words were spoken and spit was dropped in our food, we simply got up and left.

We headed across the road, and went to this place called the Machine Shed. It was a very good homestyle menu and cocktails weren't half bad either. I almost went into a state of panic, worried that they would not have drinks at this restaurant. It just had a vibe of no drinks. I should have known better, it was attached to a hotel.

Why so gung ho on the drinks, you ask? My only time to do the drinks. I felt good and I don't really want to drink at all on chemo, but with the special occasion I was leaving it for this weekend. To my relief they had a drink menu. I don't know that the other patrons liked our table talk, but whatever.

One thing I have realized as well, I'm not nearly as funny the week of a treatment, so I apologize for what comes out this week, if I'm even able to do this. I noticed last treatment it trailed off by the end of that week around the fourth day...which would be tomorrow. Today is my 40th birthday and tomorrow is Thanksgiving. The holidays will be a little lack luster for me this year. It's these moments with these wonderful women that help me to forget that I'm dealing with any of this at all.

And snuggles with my daughter and fiance, of course. :)

Bridal Dress Shopping - The Wedding

The first big event, besides the engagement itself and ordering of decorations, happened in October. I've been just a shade distracted with treatments, so hopefully my memory won't be too fuzzy.

To kick off the wonderful event two of my wonderful friends/bridesmaids came in from out of town to stay with me. My Maid of Honor from Arizona flew in and crashed with me on Friday and Saturday and my high school pal and bridesmaid from California arrived on Friday on the red eye. 

Jen, the Maid of Honor, and myself stayed up late waiting for her flight to arrive. We finally headed out to get her and ended up circling the airport about 40 thousand times before we finally picked Katie up. I might have left a little early. I stress about airports. 

If I'm not mistaken, we all went to bed right away as the bridal dress shopping was to commence relatively early in the morning. I was very excited to get there and try on dresses, but also extremely nervous. I had a couple of favorites that I hoped would be in stock at this particular store, but what if they didn't look good? What if they didn't have them? What if some of the stories people told me of dress shopping were true? So many times I would hear the bad experiences people would have with trying on dresses. Or read the reviews online. Stories of rude consultants or inattentive ones. Stories of botched alterations, though I have a lady so I didn't intend for the alterations to be done there. And finally bridesmaids turning into their own bridezillas.

Luckily, I had no real time to worry about that. The two out of towners were going to take my car and drive separate. They were out getting coffee, so myself and two other bridesmaids left ahead of them. Mel, the Matron of Honor and Deb, another great friend and bridesmaid. We were almost to the freeway when I received a call from Jen and Katie. There was some strange question regarding car keys. My car keys and where they were. Funny story. Only funny in hindsight as I write this. Apparently, as I was heading out of my garage to get into Deb's car, I for some insane reason, grabbed my car keys off the high top table. What on earth?

So back to the house we went, where we all departed at the same time and we were all late. I felt panicked, but to my relief it appeared that my mother and several others were late as well. We walked in and immediately were checked in. They had a list of my favorite dresses from the website. I was relieved and then suddenly overwhelmed when the rest of my bridesmaids began to come out of the woodwork. It was a hoard of women. I have 8, yes 8 bridesmaids. I also have 2 personal attendants and one of my friends since high school is my officiant. My mother also brought my sweet 14 year old brother who wanted to join.  It was very cute that he wanted to be there, but I'm guessing he just didn't want to sit home alone. Ha! So besides me, there were 12 girls. I had gotten that number wrong earlier and thought 11, but whatever. I have a lot going on. People shouldn't rely on me for thinking.

Anyway, we definitely were a very intimidating group. We were directed to go about selecting (not touching, well remove dresses from the racks) dresses and let our consultant know which ones we wanted to try on. Too many ladies and it creates a vacuum of noise where they hear nothing, so some were scolded for taking the dresses down. 

I found the two I wanted from the website and two other dresses were picked out for me by my lovely ladies. Once we had four solid picks, the consultant took me to a dressing room and the fun began. I had my breast biopsy not that long before, so the right side was a little sore. It didn't seem to bother me when she put on the bustier or the contraption that compressed all of my organs. Whatever it's called...oh, I still have to get one of those yet. And then came the dress parade. I am willing to share the pics of the dresses I didn't go with. So here we go...

Nothing makes a bride feel more beautiful than having the perfect bodied model trying on dresses directly behind her in all of her pictures. (It didn't bother me, I just found it ironically hysterical) When I had moved around the store, I noticed the girl next to me and her one friend. She looked happy trying on dresses. I went to the other side and noticed another woman trying on dresses with some bridesmaids. She didn't look very content at that very moment. I wondered how things were going there and hoped that it was just that one dress she didn't like. But I looked at my huge group of friends and family and was thankful. Even at the largest I have ever been in my life (I do hope to change that in the near future), I was still happy and still felt beautiful. Even with the beautiful woman directly behind me. 

The experience was even more fun with the cute signs one of my personal attendant's Gina made. The fun creative signs to help vote on the dresses as I tried them on. My other personal attendant and cousin, Maria, is my solid rock and voluntary bouncer. She is almost hoping someone messes up just so she can utilize this part of her job title.

It was such a fun experience feeling spoiled by the consultant and my friends as they took pictures and made me feel like a princess. I have never had the experience of dress shopping and it did not disappoint. Though it could have been made better with champagne and the consultant agreed.  To make up for that we all went to lunch directly afterward at Red Lobster. I had been craving seafood for such a long time. 

Before we did that I still had to pick a dress. I went back to my number one fav. The first one I loved online, the first and the last one I tried on at the store. (not pictured of course) It was just the one I knew was the one when I saw it in pictures.

I even got to ring a bell and say yes to the dress. Just like the show! And then we did a group picture...we are short one bridesmaid in this picture. Those dang out of staters.

Now for the part I had been looking forward to all week...a delicious lunch and some cocktails.  Seafood and drinks. Life couldn't be better at that very moment. It is not easy keeping up with such a large group conversationally, but hopefully the girls entertained themselves thoroughly. And of course it wasn't easy for the waiters either.

My Matron of Honor and Maid of Honor gave a speech and I spent an entire hour trying to open crab legs. Worth it. I should probably eat that every day. Just the sheer amount of time it takes to eat 5 legs would definitely be the best weight loss program ever.  Though I hear shellfish isn't great for chemo ???  Not like I have been doing anything geared towards what's the best for chemo so far. My plan is to be better next week.  Well, I will have little choice. The week of treatment I want nothing to eat and the week after I can't stop eating. This week I have been out of control. Part of me hoped to get that forced weight loss as a "benefit". 

Every bride wants to lose weight and I have put on more weight since losing my brother. Time to dust of self pity and do the best I can to stay healthy going forward. Looking forward to this Saturday when the bridesmaids are on deck for dresses and cocktails. I haven't had drinks since treatment started...should be interesting. I may not want any cocktails. So unlike me. How on earth will I be funny? If I ever was...

Will The Real Hell Week Please Stand Up?

So the week of appointments does not hold a candle to how I felt the week following the appointments. The week the treatments began took the cake. All I can say is...

After the infusion last week I felt nauseated and tired. A couple of hours after the treatment and most of the week, actually. How good I feel right now has made it very clear how potent that treatment is and I'm definitely not looking forward to next week. Though my appetite has returned in full swing...dangit, so much for weight loss. Maybe I'll maintain.

By the time my counseling appointment rolled around on Wednesday, I decided, okay I'll just go to work on Thursday. I should be feeling better by then. Wrong! That is when it increased horribly on the pain and suffering scale. The nausea meds only curbed the vomiting, but didn't stop the nausea. I'm unsure where to go with the details on this as to not overshare more than I already do. (Please keep in mind, I'm chatty and I'm a writer, so if the information is more than you want to know, please don't read. However, I promise I won't let it get too graphic.)

So constipation was the next thing to kick in. (And here, I just said I wasn't going to let it get too graphic. ha!) I was getting worried and the nurse line at the hospital also joined me on the worry train. They told me (as I was already taking "softners" since the day of infusion) to take this "magnesium citrate"? I love that they try to give a fun flavor of cherry to it. As I drank it I imagined if this is what that red devil chemo tasted like, and wondered if it did the same things to my veins as this citrate was doing to my esophagus. Like drinking the blood of the aliens from the movie, well.. Aliens. You know, pure acid. And then Milk of Magnesia mixed with prune juice was next. It sounds grosser than it tastes and it was a nice relief after the burning of the citrate.  Did I mention that already? Okay, I'll move on. One thing I can't debate is that either one or the both worked. I could finally move on with my life. Or so I thought...

Friday came and sadly I immediately felt like I was going to throw up. Another day bites the dust on the work front. I was hoping to meet some mysterious and obviously unattainable goal of being tougher than the toxins in my veins.

Not only did work become this impossible feat, but they wanted me to move around daily. How on earth was I to move around when I was nauseated, constipated, tired, and beginning to feel depressed? My poor daughter was home with me at times too because I couldn't get her to daycare. I wouldn't trust my ability to drive the way I was feeling. This likely added to the depression knowing that I was subjecting her to this. Shockingly, it still was to get worse.

Saturday, the heartburn began to rear it's ugly head. I think I had been doing great with the water and taking my meds, but I won't lie... the food...not great. I kind of eat whatever if I'm hungry because the first few days I'm not hungry at all. (I talk as if I have been doing this for weeks. Solely based on one week, this is what I have discovered.) 

Just to preface, I had been taking tums each night at this point, and now the heartburn was continuing to increase and literally burn through those sardonic "mints". Radiating beams of pain would shoot across my chest and down to my stomach each time I swallowed. Nothing I took seem to help. Milk extinguished the flames for a minute. I would lay my head to one side and I would try to sleep for about a half an hour before it started again. The moment I moved my head the heat would rise. Tears popped into the corners of my eyes and frustration burned hotter than the reflux.

I began to cry each time and my chest would expand out and contort. Somewhere in my mind this seemed to make it less painful. I called the doctor and they prescribed a strong medication. I was going to wait for Kevin to get home from work, but as it rolled around to 200 pm I couldn't take it anymore. My daughter was playing nurse, but this couldn't go on. (Literally, it couldn't go on. She isn't trained or educated. And cute as it was, a blanket being pulled up to my neck really did little more than distract me from my self pity and pain.) My stepdad finally grabbed my little brother and my prescription and dropped them both off at my house.  My daughter's birthday party was the next day and my little brother was scheduled to join us anyway.

I immediately took the pill and laid back down on the couch, waiting for the sweet relief of modern science. An hour later my thoughtful fiance arrived home and tried to console me by rubbing my head, but nothing had changed. I was still in immense pain and maybe now scaring and scarring the 14 year old brother with my breathing and chest contorting that likely resembled an exorcism. 

Kevin got into his home pj outfit and relaxed in the garage, but I got on the phone. I couldn't take it anymore. After the many hours of writhing in agony (yes, I'm exaggerating...but what a boring story without it. I'm very dramatic and in hindsight it explains my daughter. Sometimes you are just to close to it. Anyhoo...), they wanted me to go to the emergency room. (that's not an exaggeration)

I didn't want to go anywhere, but I couldn't be in this pain anymore. We got bundled up and left my brother to watch my daughter, not realizing how long this might take. (My smart mother ended up picking them both up later for the night, and took them to Applebees...man, that sounds so yummy!)

As we were on our way it struck me that I was likely going to be stuck with a bunch of needles again. I knew there was no way around it.  FUUUDDDGGGEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I'm done with needles already and the more times I'm stuck the more my fear and anxiety about them increases. Honestly, if they want to do a hand IV to me again, they will likely have to punch me in the face or hold me down. And even though the port was no big deal pain wise, I'm oddly afraid of the next time they have to access it.

Lucky for me, (wait..what?) the continuing chest pain helped me forget my fear of needles the rest of the drive in. We entered the emergency room and I was checked in right away. After a brief EKG I was given a room. They believed it to be heartburn, but being a cancer patient they had to be safe and be sure that it wasn't heart issues or a blood clot in the lungs. So, we got settled in for a long night and I got that damn IV. But in my arm..good veins and not very painful of a process. Whew! But every time they came in the room, I braced myself for another poke.  Sure they could have used my port, but like I said...scared again. I'll have to use it next week, so I better get over it before then.

After a long night of sitting/laying, getting an X Ray, blood tests, and liquid Novocaine/lydocaine it was determined to be extremely (medical term) bad heartburn. A stronger medication was added. Though I still had the pain, once I took the chalky giant pill it wasn't long before it finally calmed down and I could sleep.

The next morning I felt so much better and was able to take my daughter to play for her birthday as scheduled. Every so often, I can feel the heartburn trying to break out again, but I have felt so good the last few days. The new found symptom of mouth sores and dryness is not a fun thing to experience, but hey, I can converse with people, go to work, play with my daughter, write this blog and have a sense of humor about it.

This weekend I am looking so forward to my bridesmaids trying on their dresses and then going out for maybe one drink...we'll see. And putting up my tree because I likely won't want to next weekend. 

There have been several times already that I justed wanted to stop this treatment. Whenever it's horrible or I think it's at the worst, I think, What in the hell? Why am I doing this to myself? Who needs an additional 5% survivability?  (Seriously, one week and I have thought this several times already). I try to remember, best case scenario, grandchildren, etc...keep moving forward. 

I know my experience isn't the worst that can be experienced. But I do have to stop feeling bad about feeling bad too. I have to stop worrying about what others might think. A friend told me that this journey would change me and I can see how it will. It's cheesy and it's overused, but life is short and at the same time it's long. Life should be lived to the fullest. Not like someone who wants to live forever and not like someone who expects to die tomorrow, but just enjoying the moments you have, and not stressing about the things you simply can't control.

Red Devil One - Karen Zero

Alright, it wasn't as bad as the title suggests, but it wasn't good either. The entire weekend leading up to yesterday was mentally draining. Friday night I had the most energy, allowing my best friend to cheer me up, but I was tired from surgery, still out of it, and wanting to sleep. Saturday was more of the same. I began to feel bad for my sweet fiance and all that he does for me. I look forward to gaining back some energy so I can make dinner or do some basic things around the house to alleviate stress for him. 

Anyways, yesterday morning we left the house with our sweet, almost, 5 year-old and headed to my mother's to drop her off. I had a bag packed with a game (Oregon Trail - Card version), my cousin's IPad to watch Netflix, pjs (just in case), meds, and more.

I gave the tot a hug goodbye and we headed to the hospital. I was nervous, but still feeling as calm as I could be attempted. Kevin dropped me off at the main entrance while he parked the car. Once he picked out a spot he joined me and we took the long, confusing, and winding hallway back to the oncology wing. We signed in and immediately I was taken in for vitals. 

I knew that they would be accessing my port, taking blood, blood pressure, and <gulp> ... weight. Once everything else was done besides accessing the port, my blood pressure must have shot through the roof. I was twisting and squeezing my hands. I had put on a numbing cream on the port, but I could feel the RN touching it. It gave me little hope that it wouldn't hurt due to the bruising of the surgery.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and the hand ringing persisted as I just kept saying, "I don't know what to do." I truly felt that I was going to leave and say, "Forget the chemo, I can't do it." The pain I imagined was horrifying. The last few months I had new experiences and was told that the pain wouldn't be so bad, and it turned out to be worse. Most of it could be my fear or so I thought at the time.

When I finally decided to tough it out and do it, every nerve tingled with fear and anticipation. But, it truly didn't hurt. Now, in retrospect, I felt confident that the other moments weren't heightened by my fear, it truly hurt. It doesn't make me feel better about any upcoming need for IVs that don't access my port.

After the catheter was placed, my fiance and I were then led back to an exam room to meet with a nurse and then the other doctor on staff, for a preliminary exam before going back to infusion. That too a wee bit longer, as I had not met him before and he wanted to get caught up on me. My main doctor booked solid and tends to be on the days that I want for treatment. Good thing, this whole office works as a team.

Now was time to go back to the infusion room...nope, they were backed up so we went to the lobby again and waited for a chair and the medications to be ready. In the meantime, I could have coffee!!!! And I got to put a lunch order in. It looked delicious. 

A half an hour later we were led back to the infusion room. I was looking forward to watching Netflix, but I was worried once more about what pain I might feel. The nurse reassured me that there would be no pain with any of the meds she administered. 

And there were quite a few meds that they would be giving me prior to the actual actual chemo. And several flushes in between. When all was said and done the chemo was 30 minutes, but all the other meds were about an hour and a half. We got there at 1000 am and left at almost 300 pm. (Oh and by the way, the food was not as tasty as it sounded. Not bad, just bland)  

I enjoyed the show The Mist, until I realized that a certain producer from the news was on the credits. Ugh! Guilt in watching. And then there was the wonderfully soothing company of my fiance- oh and the massaging chair of course.

Once the port catheter was removed, they then attached another machine that will give me an injection in 27 hours from the removal of the catheter. This will help pump up my blood counts as they will take a dive in a couple of days. And I get to start nausea meds and steroids, and other things once I see how I feel.

I almost cried some more when they were going to do the med machine due to the fear of the unknown pain again. Thankfully, this did not hurt either. 

On the way to pick up my girl, I felt okay until after we got home. Then down hill with the illness, I went. Nothing horrible. Just dizzy, nauseated, and tired, even with taking the nausea pills. I took the stronger one, which brings on headaches. So more meds. Due to all of this, I'm home again today to see how I react before the next treatment.

My plan is to return tomorrow afternoon after the counselor appointment. I have mentioned this before, but the meeting tomorrow is something they want us all to do and are happy when we decide to do this. 

I intend to be at work all next week, but this weekend is Melina's very small celebration of her birthday and I'm hoping I have the energy to make it a good one for her. 

I also worry about when the hair will fall out. Most times I can put a funny spin on it. Some people get my sick twisted humor, but a lot don't. The last couple of days, however, I feel many fears coursing through me and it's not so easily shut off. I'm also so tired, but cannot sleep. I've been up since 200 am.

Yesterday, when I really struggled the most with the idea of pain (one thing I heard from my that was Jacob's biggest fear as well), I sat in the exam room with Kevin and tried to pull myself together. A nurse came in and handed me a hand knitted or crocheted shawl/blanket with a cross ornament and a Bible verse attached. I couldn't help (even now) tear up and think it was Jake's way of sending me comfort. 

Well enough of that mushy stuff. It's time to move on with the day and get some rest...

Hell Week...EDIT: Hell Week...Runner Up

I know. I know. I just posted. This week was a series of appointments, so a lot to cover in one entry, but I'm giving it a shot to get everyone caught up. 

I go back and forth and I find myself panicking and then I'm fine. I'm back to panicking lately, as I mentioned in the previous post.

So many side eff....I'm getting ahead of myself as usual.  So, let's start with Monday.

Monday, October 30th - This was the day that I went in for a MUGA test. It's a more detailed test of your heart. We could have done an echo, but again, not as comprehensive and thorough. So I left work to pick up my mom and we headed over to the hospital. It didn't take long to get called back to radiation, get an IV set in my arm, while they put radiation into a sample vile of my blood that she took. Then they sent me out to wait with my mom. Once the radiation was settled, they put my blood back into me and set me up in a more open version of an MRI.

It went quickly and flawlessly, and almost painlessly. Once again, I returned to the lobby while I waited to be called for a chest xray. That took all of five minutes. (This was actually scheduled for today, however, since I was there they said they could get me in quite easily) And then we were on our way home.

Tuesday, October 31st - Once more, I left work around the same time as Monday and again I picked up my mother and we headed back to the hospital. On this day, we had a chemotherapy class to attend. It turned out to be just my mom and me and a couple of the oncology nurses. I liked the privacy of it all. I was feeling a little insecure thinking other people would be there with me. 

In a small conference room they had a slide show set up and booklets for both my mother and myself. We went through everything together and of course, chatty Kathy me, I asked questions throughout through the entire "seminar". Some I would needed to save for the Doctor and others they were able to answer.

Once again, the treatment I received upset my mom comparing what they didn't do for Jake, at another hospital. And I felt bad too. He could have benefited from a class like this and I'm appalled that they didn't offer him most of the services I'm being offered.

Wednesday, November 1st - Chemo port placement day...Ugh!

I instantly regret searching for pictures of these ports because some were gruesome and now all I can do is feel this thing in me. Shudder shudder shudder...the shuddering will likely never stop. 

It went very similar to the day we went in for the lumpectomy, except we did not go to the breast center first. But the place we needed to go was under construction and it was still dark and confusing. It didn't take long before I was angry and upset and swearing. Leading up to this moment was the car ride with my fiance to my mom's. We had to drop of the darling daughter and pick up my mother. But in the car, I couldn't shake the feeling of doom and gloom, like something bad would happen during surgery.

I had the same feeling before the lumpectomy. I was scared. And I still am. We finally found the right entrance into the building and got all signed in. I went through all the same motions as last time, but this time I was able to have my mom and my fiance in the room with me. Last time, it was one at a time. Before anyone would be allowed in, the IV in my hand was to go in. I declined the numbing solution because it hurt so much during the last procedure. I should have taken it.  The IVs in my inner elbow never hurt, but the hand...man oh man. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my toes curled and my legs kicked. And then the sobbing. Fear mixed with pain and I fell apart, taking the nurse with me. She immediately felt bad and talked about trying to do it again, but there is no way I wanted to that. "Just don't touch it" was all I said.

The surgery was over in 10 seconds...to my frame of my mind anyway. And once again I was sent on my way home, to rest.  Easier said than done. I haven't had much sleep in quite a while.

Thursday, November 2nd - The second consultation with the oncology Doctor. This would be the day that the MUGA and chest Xray would be discussed and then I would be told (based on those tests) which treatments I could choose from. Luckily, both tests came back good. I was a little surprised on the heart, I haven't taken great care of it over many years. Lack of working out, smoking, enjoy high fattening foods, and etc. Not to mention the family genetics are not on speaking terms with the family. My dad's side has a very high propensity for heart disease and attacks.

Then, we went over the percentages one more time as far as the difference certain treatments would make and again went over side affects and medications that I would need to be taking at home.

So I chose the most aggressive form of chemo. Again...CLOSE THAT GAP! So I will begin chemo on Monday. I will do this every other week for 8 weeks. At the end of that time I will take a different chemo for 12 weeks, every week. And then finally, I will do radiation for 6 weeks, 5 days a week. After each chemo treatment I will need to get a shot the next day to help blood counts go back up as well. I have to be wary of infection, neuropathy, fevers, and so much more. I'm worried that I will miss something.

I'm also worried if the chemo treatments will hurt. They gave me a cream for the port so I wouldn't feel anything during the treatment, but I'm unsure how to put it on if I can't take the surgical tape or steri strips off for at least 7 to 10 days. I'm afraid to shower as well, but I'm sure everyone else is afraid of me NOT showering. 

It's a lot of the unexpected. And the bright side, I can bring a friend to sit with me the 4 or 5 hours that the treatments take. I don't see that I will be given the same option my brother was given for the at home chemo treatment. That's fine, I feel more comfortable with the professionals close enough to shout to if there is a problem.

After all was said and done, I was to rest some more. But it should be no surprise by now, that still hasn't happened. I'm having a hard time sleeping. I picked up all of the meds that I will need to start next week and even things like press and seal saran wrap for the port. It's a lot of head swimming. The doctor also told me that I would possibly get chemo brain...not too dissimilar from pregnancy brain. However, I don't think my brain can take the hit. I didn't recover from pregnancy brain.

And hair loss will likely begin about 2 or 3 weeks after the chemo starts. I will definitely be taking it very easy all weekend. And likely start to panic on Sunday night.

A Wig Shoppin' We Will Go

One of the bright sides to having cancer, is the fun adventure of going to a wig shop and trying on different wigs. I mean I expected it would be a good time. And my expectations were met.






These are photos from their primary location. I went to their secondary shop, but still roughly the same, with lots and lots of other items to browse through as well. Their secondary location is more of a touristy downtown area, so very important to sell the tourist trap items that have little to do with their main product.  Like tiny rubber spatulas. I really wanted one. And who doesn't need a tiny cheese grater? So many wonderful items. Facial masks, scarves, tiny silicon bowls, and jewelry. I could go on and on, but the adventure was about hair, not these other things. I'm guessing geared towards fairies or hobbits based on size. :)

I had arrived at the store ahead of my cousin, Jen, so I went in and met with the consultant, Sara. Jen and I had attempted to do this the Wednesday before, but there was confusion on the scheduling. We were scheduled at the primary location and arrived at the secondary.  Oops. It wasn't a total loss, we did have a brief happy hour.

Anyway, before Jen came in Sara showed me around and they had many, many wigs. I felt comfortable and almost excited to find one. She brought me all the way to the back to a salon station, which is when Jen arrived and Sara then caught her up to speed. 

Right away I picked out 5 to 6 different wigs and tried on all of them. There were heat-resistant wigs, synthetic wigs, hand woven, machine woven, partially hand and machine woven, and human hair wigs.

Surprisingly, I didn't like the human hair wigs. Maybe somewhere inside lay my vanity where I thought my own real hair was nicer than the hair I was seeing on the mannequin heads. So I then went to the synthetic. I tried on a couple of heat resistant ones that were styled, but I felt that many looked too short for some reason. (Likely because they were styled and I just couldn't envision them without the styling)

The hardest part of trying on wigs when you have all of your hair, is that you have all of your hair. I will be wearing this wig when I don't have any hair, so it will fit different. And they can thin it out as well if you want.  And the second hardest part, is picking one.  I liked two a lot. Similar color and neither heat resistant. But one was more wedding driven and the other every day. I definitely will be going this weekend to get the everyday, I hope.

I now am going through moments of panic right now at the upcoming treatments and it's hard to keep those feelings in all of the time. I've been thinking a lot about my brother and how I have this rare window or opportunity to now know what he went through, whether I want to or not. I know what I have is different, but my heart breaks even more for what he went through. And it's pouring out onto my Facebook. Before I get to Trump level, I might want to have my fiance monitor my posts.

It also makes me think of people in our lives, both mine and Jake's and how some never said a word to him, to me, to us...as if we just didn't exist. Even if we were family. But I can't dwell on that. I have to move forward and stop feeling sorry for myself because those people will always be self-absorbed and I will only drive myself crazy wanting or expecting more from them.