Hello Darlings...
Ugh...
Cancer....
Today's bit of fun was 2 blood transfusions...
yes...
once again I got to feel like an escapee from a "Twilight" novel (if you don't know what Twilight is then you didn't have a teenage daughter in the mid 2000's...it was a teen literature book about vampire romance...not kidding...just writing that explanation made my head want to explode).
So although I was not TECHNICALLY a vampire (the blood was given to me in my port so thankfully I was not in full-on Dracula mode) I did get two bags of O positive....
And God bless the beautiful people who donated the blood so I can get over my severe anemia.
But I am sorta getting ahead of myself...
I need to backtrack some and give you a fuller picture of what is going on with your unicorn cancer queen here.
And the road will be a bit bumpy because Monday was....well I'll get to it...
Let's rewind to Thursday.
Thursday I had a CT scan.
I was scared to death...that scan was gonna reveal if all of this chemo is working or not.
And then I was gonna have to wait until Monday when I saw Dr. Rockstar to hear all about it...
or did I....
hmmmmm.....
downstairs in that very building where the scan took place was my favorite doctor...
who just happens to be a radiology oncologist...
and who I knew was in the building....
and he knows how to read a scan better than anyone...
and I know he puts up with a lot of my nonsense...
and I kinda figured if I flipped my hair and batted my green eyes and begged please (and brought him his favorite coffee) that maybe he would take pity on me and look at my scan.
So I marched to Starbucks and grabbed a coffee and headed to Dr. Angel's office armed with blonde roast coffee and a blonde woman's determination that he could put my mind at ease...
bless the poor man's heart but it had been a day for him (his first without his trusted amazing PA Sweet Jessica) but he still found some time for me and my nonsense and we settled into his office to "look at the blobs" as I say.
I told him I was about to spend the weekend with some of my dearest best girls and we needed a reason to drink frose.
Bless him he didn't know what frose was but I told him it was a drink girls really really like and that he didn't need to know more about it and that we also had some bubbly (that he understood)....we needed a celebration....
He pulls up scans and starts showing me all the scary blobs and I am just kneeling beside his chair clutching wildly at his arm asking:
"IS THAT GOOD?!?!?!"
(by the way he offered me a chair but at that moment I wanted to see that screen as well as I could and I honestly was on my knees praying)
When it was all said and done he said some of the lymph glands were shrinking and that things looked to be improving.
So in other words...
THE TREATMENT IS REALLY WORKING PEOPLE
ok we need to dance again...
This is not a drill...
this is a "go" people....
get your asses up and start doing a praise dance....
hell twerk if you want...
do an interpretive dance...
make jazz hands...
spirit fingers....
do a hula....
pas de deux...
do the Cotton Eyed Joe....
Cha Cha Slide...
disco...
JUST DANCE
because that is what I did....
I hugged that precious man (who honestly did not have to read the scans of an overly anxious woman but I think I have made myself into enough of a pest that he just does my bidding to keep me from running amok in the Medical Center).
I told his resident (or whoever the guy was that was in the office with us) that I am basically that kid that gets into an elevator with you and smashes his hand onto ALL the buttons---I am the trouble maker.
The resident just looked confused...bless his heart he is gonna need a seat belt to deal with me...
I should come with a warning label.
So once I was assured that things seemed to be improving (and warned that he was just giving it a glance and needed more time to see it and the report) I let him get back to the business of saving lives with radiation and I headed to GOTT'S house to assure him that 1) I wasn't gonna die and 2) that if he can make Mary Poppins fly (for our musical) I can make her look amazing doing it...
Then I headed off for a girl's weekend with some women I have known since we needed Clearasil and had perfect "wings" in our hair and had a mighty good time just resting...
because I was tired...
because of my bad blood...
In all my excitement of "these scans look pretty good" I managed to distract myself from the fact that just walking to my car got me tired.
So I rested and the girls kept me going and we had a dandy time.
it was just what I needed.
My hemoglobin had dived to under "8" (normal is 12-16...10 is low for a cancer patient)
(Note to all: self care includes spending time with people who lift your heart...I've had that two weekends in a row...and this weekend my TonyFab is coming to town so I'm spending my time with humans who carry me when I can't carry myself)
Monday I went to get chemo #7 and found out that Dr. Rockstar was in Italy (with her twins God bless her!) and so I got to see her fabulous PA Sweet Jasmin and she delivered the news that the report on my scan revealed some reduction in the size of some lymph glands and others were "stable" and no new growth had started.
(you may continue to dance....)
GOOD NEWS
Not as good as "no evidence of disease" (NED) but it appears that my boyfriend NED is playing coy with me and making me wait on him.
That's ok...absence makes the heart grow fonder so it will be all the sweeter when he comes dancing back into my life.
I also found out that my CA125 level is down to 14.3 which is nearly my baseline (but I didn't learn that until Tuesday)
MORE GOOD NEWS
(dance some more...I think it is time someone breakdances)
But all of that was wrapped up in the fact that my blood levels were low and I am anemic and I had to have transfusions today.
Now one would think that despite this all seemingly pretty good news and having just had two fabulous girls weekends that I would be in a pretty good headspace.
But Monday got me...
and the headspace was...
not too bueno....
I've always been open with y'all here and I am gonna come right out and admit that for a bit of time on Monday I contemplated throwing in the towel.
I told Aunt Jane that I wondered if all this time and money being spent on me was worth it and if I ever really would conquer this disease. If I can really beat it.
And that maybe I should just give it up and let nature and this disease take its course.
And Aunt Jane reminded me that I don't give in easily and I rarely give up.
But for a while, despite the good news, I felt DEFEATED.
You can have all the good things in front of you but still feel like something is off.
And I, for a brief moment, had a lack of faith in myself and what was happening with me.
I laid in that bed in the cancer center and while poison dripped into my body I wondered for a moment if it was all worth it.
or was I just putting off the inevitable...
I felt scared...and alone....and shaken...
Aunt Jane gave me some time to work through it and I looked at the bag of poison hanging above my head and had a chat with myself.
And I said: (in my head)
HEY YOU STUPID DUMBASS...GOD HAS PROVIDED YOU WITH THE BEST DOCTORS AND THE BEST MEDICINE. IT'S BEEN A HELL OF A ROAD AND THE ROAD IS STILL VERY STEEP AND ROCKY AND SCARY BUT YOU ARE ON THE ROAD. THE ROAD TO LIVING. TO RECOVERY. STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF AND FIGHT.
So I ended my little pity party early and got myself back into a better place.
It's not the first time I have had a crisis of faith about all of this.
I have them a lot.
I just don't talk much about them because it does no good to do so.
or at least I thought so.
but then I realized thanks to the statistics that this blog site keeps that more than 12 of you read my blog.
The last one was read by over 1000 people
(who ARE you people?)
and that maybe there are a few of you out there that are also struggling with whatever demon has hold of your life.
Maybe you are lonely...
or maybe you are depressed...
or ill...
or in a bad relationship...
or have a sick loved one...
or in financial trouble...
or lost your job...
or lost your home...
and maybe it's just that your jeans that fit last week don't fit this week (hey that gets me pretty down in the dumps too so I am not making light of it)
whatever it is that causes you to pause and wonder "what is the point" I'm pretty sure we have all felt that way one way or another.
So I decided to share with you that I, the most positive unicorn in the world, has times when things do not look like a Lisa Frank picture (and if you don't know who Lisa Frank is then you don't have a kid or are a kid born in the 90's or late 80's...Google it...it might make your head explode).
I had a grand pity party for myself.
Which made no sense since I had just been told things were looking up.
But I feel like I am fighting SO HARD to conquer this stuff and IT WON'T GO AWAY.
And I JUST WANT TO GET ON WITH MY LIFE.
(sorry for all the shouting....the breakdancers are being loud in the back)
So yeah...for about an hour on Monday I wondered what my purpose was in all of this and if it was all worth it.
I had a crisis of faith.
Wasn't the first time.
Won't be the last.
I tend to get in my own way a lot.
like a lot a lot
Where I just need to push myself aside.
And Monday was one of those days where my faith was being shaken and weirdly I had had sort of good news.
But I think I was feeling (at the time) that it wasn't enough.
I needed MORE.
I wanted MORE positiveness (which I got on Tuesday when I saw the CA125 number).
And I realized that sometimes with cancer things are never enough.
There is never enough time for those who lose their battles.
There is never enough money or insurance for some to even get to fight.
And for me there just sometimes doesn't seem to be enough reassurance that I can and WILL overcome this.
Today as I sit and type this I realize how selfish and foolish it all seems.
I am blessed to have time and to have insurance that pays for my treatments.
But for an hour or so on Monday I felt mighty sorry for myself and felt like giving up.
There I said it.
I FELT LIKE GIVING UP
I felt like yanking out my central line to my port and just walking out and taking my chances.
And I knew my chances were about as good as they would be for me to run across I-10 during rush hour traffic while wearing a blindfold and all the drivers are blindfolded too...
so I stayed in the chemo bed and finished out my sentence with the poison and decided that I needed an attitude adjustment...
but when I got home I realized that there is nothing at all wrong with having a crisis of faith and to wonder if a something is worth fighting for
I AM HUMAN
I can't be perfectly happy and positive all the time.
There are times when it is almost unreasonable to stay positive.
And despite good news I struggled and while I have yet to figure out why I just wanted to lay it all out there for you people and to raise my hand and say:
I AM NOT ALWAYS GOING TO BE COOL WITH THIS CANCER
So my friends there you have it....I am not always a pillar of strength and courage.
And I am so grateful to have all of you around to keep me swimming even when I can't...it's like you hand me a lifeguard's float thing and I grab it and you pull me to shore.
My Aunt Jane has a way of saving me...and Monday she saved me by reminding me that I am not a girl who gives up.
Once upon a time I was a wee girl and Aunt Jane was a teenager and we were in Hawaii. Jane was watching my sisters and me and I was standing in the surf.
All of a sudden a big wave came and covered me up...Jane ran into the surf to try to find me in the wave and somehow my hand was sticking out.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety.
And on Monday she did the same thing when she told me that it wasn't like me to just throw in the towel.
She let me have my crisis (just like she let me play in the surf) but when the wave came to get me she pulled me out.
I hope all of you who have some sort of crisis of faith or love or direction have someone who grabs your hand and pulls you out of the surf.
Because at some point we are all in the surf and the waves are coming...
and we can run back onto the beach
or we can play in the surf
and as long as we have someone who loves us to watch us as we splash we are safe.
So my beloveds I ask of you to watch out for your friends in the surf...and if they seem to be unsafe please stick your hand in and pull them to safety.
We are human...we have moments when we need someone to grab our hands.
I will need it more than I can say over the next few years.
And I will be honest enough with you to say that there are times I feel the undertow and I can feel the waves pulling me into the darkness and the sand and out to sea...
but I have all of you (and my dearest Aunt Jane) there to grab my hand if I put it out.
And I will stick my hand out when I need to....and Monday I needed to.
So I'm good....
I got my blood...
I got my faith back...
I got a good scan...
I got a good number on my CA125...
and I've got a lot of you rooting for me to come out of the unsafe surf so for a bit I am gonna play on the sand and make drip castles...
and we can all resume our dancing...
So get out there and show me your samba....we can do that on the sand...
Inspiration Song: "Bad Blood" by...NOT Taylor Swift! But by Neil Sedaka with background vocals from Sir Elton John...always been a favorite of mine...
Bye Darlings....I hated to admit that I wanted to give up but I think I owe it to you to know that I am not perfect and I don't always have all the faith I need...and I know some of you feel that way too so you are not alone...and if you need a hand to pull you out of the surf I am here to do it...
