MERRY CHRISTMAS!

12/21/12 HAS PAST AND WE ARE STILL HERE

SO GO OUT THERE AND...

HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS!

HUG A LITTLE TIGHTER



Hug A Little Tighter

 

I was going to share with you my experience of my cancer coming back but at this time my heart is heavy over another matter that is much more than my trivial plight.  I morn along with the nation over the recent shootings of innocent children.  Proceeded by mass shootings in movie houses and malls and copy catted by others in recent days.

            We have heard murder suicide stories by a professional football player among others.  This all seems so crazy and it is.  What are we to do? I was prepared to write and give you my POV (point of view) but feel it’s a matter I will address some other time.  Because tonight I’m going out there and spending time with my family and friends. I suggest yawl do the same, go out there…spend time with loved ones and hug your children a little tighter, we may never know what tomorrow brings.

CHEMO COCKTAIL ANYONE?

Chemo Cocktail Anyone?

A chemo cocktail is not a new drink from some fancy nightclub in Manhattan, only if it were that simple.  A chemo cocktail is what us cancer patients refer to the different chemicals that they mix to kill those ugly cancer cells.  Unlike an alcohol drink which can make ugly people look prettier if you have enough, a chemo cocktail only makes you sicker before you feel better.  Unlike the alcohol drinks you might have a hangover the next morning but when it comes to a chemo cocktail it’s days of hangovers or a never ending case of the flu. 

When I first started in this venture with cancer I had a different oncologist then the one I have now.  I was not very comfortable with the first onc because she left a lot of unanswered questions and told me to go to the internet for answers. Remember you pay them so don’t be afraid to question them or change doctors if you are not comfortable.

The first oncologist left me shaken, (not stirred, ha!) to where I had to use the power of prayer after internet research.  She pretty much threw big words at me like I was supposed to know what the crap she was talking about.  This was old hat to her but new to me so I had to go to the big guy upstairs for answers. I don’t care what religion you are or if you don’t belong to one I personally believe in a bigger power then myself.  So go for whatever works best for you. 

After I checked the internet and studied the different chemo cocktails at the “bar” I was calm once and I new what cocktail to do and that I needed someone else to guide me.  It helped that the first one was leaving but I then researched on the next and asked questions and am happy with my care.  The following are excerpts from my diary regarding the first time in chemo and its aftermath.  The cocktail wasn’t yummy, but it was lifesaving.

December 2, 2010

First day of chemo, wore pearls and Princess Diana ring my friend gave me.  There’s a book out about a woman who wore red lipstick to her chemotherapy sessions so I followed her example and it helped.  I felt pretty though my insides were ugly.   I could feel the chemo go through me.  I felt pangs throughout my stomach and right breast.  My port is on that side so they checked it for blood but everything was OK.  It was under my right breast that the pain started this whole thing back in September.  Feel weird, tired with anxiety. Scared not sure what to do.  Need sleep but I am scared to sleep.

The internet was helpful and I had learned to eat ginger snaps and chew on ice and breathe mints.  It’s supposed to help with vomiting and taste buds.  I think it worked.

December 7, 2010

I know I haven’t written much but it is a little difficult.  Energy has been real low though the days have been good enough to go for walks.  That has saved me but I seem to not be able to get going until 2PM.  Just to go to the bathroom is a chore, brush my teeth take a bath.  It’s like I need to take a nap in between each minor task.  But I plug along.  I try to keep my tears, the pain and frustration to myself though at times I express them. I keep it to a minimum so not to wear out those that are trying to support me. 

Friends and family are a very important part of recovery.  It was very hard for me since I have always been a very independent person and I think people with any kind of long term illness have a tenancy to go into hiding.  I had to humble myself and realize there was nothing wrong with letting others help especially nurses that were at first strangers but soon became my biggest cheerleader outside of my husband and loved ones.

Sorry I missed a week (I heard from some of you) but the holidays have me tied down as I’m sure most of you are busy.  I managed to push through chemo and buzz cuts that first (2011) time to put up my Christmas decorations.  Doing everyday things and trying to keep busy between the many naps was vital to my survival.  Normalcy is very important but so is rest.

Next week I’ll share what it was like to hear the bomb that the cancer is back and almost dying from the chemo during the second bout (2012).  Until then go out there…listen to what your body tells you and don’t be afraid to ask for help.

 

                   Chemo cocktail and coke is nothing like Rum and Coke

 After my first fight with cancer and "graduating" March 17, 2011.  I wore as much green as possible hoping the luck of the Irish would be on my side

The Bald and the Beautiful

 

The Bald and the Beautiful

There are bald eagles, famous bald movie characters and actors.  There’s even a Mount Baldy but nothing ever prepares you for your own baldness.  A woman’s hair is her crowning glory.  We are used to men losing their hair but for woman it might be more frightening then the cancer diagnosis itself.  Through experience I have learned differently.

I looked back in My Cancer Diary and I didn’t write about my first buzz cut.  Maybe it was too traumatizing but hair (Ha!) goes.  My husband along with my stepson took me to his barber.  My husband would never be caught dead in a salon and I figured a barber would be more familiar with my new style I was forced to get.

I had long hair that fell to the middle of my back and I didn’t want to deal with big chunks coming out in the shower. I was told that I’d start losing my hair within weeks of my first chemo so I figured it might be easier and do this dramatic change in steps.  My neighbor gave me a cute short cut which I had fun with it for a couple of weeks.

It was Saturday morning about 8AM when my family and I entered into the barber shop.  I wanted to go early before anyone else arrived.  My husband and stepson went first.  They were buzzing their hair too.  I got teary eyed when my stepson was sitting in the chair.  He didn’t have to do this but I believe it was his way of supporting me and my husband his father.  I told the barber not to cut his hair to short so he gave him a faux hawk, my stepson later got his hair all the way buzzed.  He’s such a great kid.

By the time it was my turn there were about 6 people waiting.  Oh crap, I now have an audience but they were wonderful giving me encouragement and telling me they knew someone with cancer and one gentlemen told me how his mother has the illness that makes you permanently bald and it wasn’t that big of a deal. I asked the barber to give me a Mohawk before he buzzed it all off because I always wanted one in the 80’s. 

It turned out to be a better experience then I ever thought.  It was very liberating.  As I entered into the chemo world and I became as bald as a q-ball my husband loved it.  He said I looked like a hot Vulcan.  He used to rub my head all the time which I believe might have helped my hair grow back at a faster rate than most.

I even had fun with wigs; I had a blonde, black and brunette one.  I had received them from the cancer society or a private donor, most of the time I went bald or wore hats.  My neighbor ladies gave me a hat party early on so I had lots to choose from.  I even had a dear friend knit me a pig hat which I wore to chemo.  What I realized was my hair didn’t define who I was and I wasn’t loved any less.  My fear of first going bald was just that, my fear.  I now think it was one of the fun parts about cancer.  I was able to get ready for the day much faster and it freed me from the hassles of blow dryers, brushes and curling irons.  I think a woman should try going bald just once even if she doesn’t have cancer.

Next week I'll share my first time doing time (chemo).  Until then go out there…and remember true beauty comes from within so don’t be afraid to buzz it all off!

 Might as well have fun with it

The Balding family, Ha! 

 

It's Not Good News

 

 

It’s Not Good News

There are times in your life when you know the truth but it’s not the time to speak it.  It’s that gut feeling that rocks your soul and tells you all is not well.  Though everybody kept telling me to keep the faith that I’ll be okay and it’s not cancer that maybe it’s only endometriosis.  I knew better, I had endometriosis before and this was not it.  I kept smiling as much as I could but I think those closest to me knew. My sisters could hear it in my voice but my husband was hoping for the happy Hollywood ending. It was to never come.

October 6, 2010

Went to the oncologist today, my hubby went with me.  He seems to take what she said as positive but I think I really see what she is saying.  First the doc came in and said they don’t know what they are dealing with.  Long story short, CT scan says it is cancer, but of course they have to do a biopsy to be sure.  Second it’s not like one big mass but tiny modules peppered in the lining of my stomach and there is unknown fluid.  Third they don’t know where the main source of this growth is coming from.  It could be coming from the colon, uterus or bladder/bowel.  More test will be done, tomorrow I will have a mammogram and chest x-ray and on Friday probably the biopsy.  She said we should know the source and how bad and what to do with it by next week.  I told her I don’t want to wait and let’s jump on it. 

Two of my sisters (one I have no contact with) are biting at the bit to come but I told them I don’t want them here until we know for sure what I’m dealing with. I told them to pack a bag and be ready but just to wait.

Personally I believe it is cancer and I am at level 4.  That’s not the greatest but people have beaten this.  All I know is I don’t want to leave my husband.  I fell in love with him when I was 13 years old we went our separate ways after high school, reconnected after 20 years and married . We’re going on 14 years. He’s got my back and I have his and no matter what level I am I’ll fight to survive this cancer or to live longer.  I love him too much.

We went in for a biopsy and they were unable to perform the task.  My CA 125 marker was at 825 normal is 0-35.  I think this was when my hubby knew that maybe this could be cancer.  We couldn’t even say the word out loud.

October 16,  2010

This waiting will kill me if cancer doesn’t.  Of course we will not know for sure if it is cancer until this Thursday the 21^st after the operation. It will be over 2 weeks of carrying this burden of wondering.  The pain pills help, though I sleep a lot and I have felt dizzy, nauseous and lost weight.  I can’t get a thing done because I don’t seem to think clearly. Told my stepson last Friday I think he is OK.  I’m only the step mother so I’m sure the impact is minimal but I told him I want him to be there for his dad and that I think he is a great kid.  I did try and call my step daughter today but couldn’t leave a voice mail on her cell phone. I’ll try again tomorrow. Not sure how she will respond since she blames me for everything wrong in her life. 

October 31, 2010

Cancer sucks.  The official word, stage 3C Ovarian Cancer. I't not good news.

My husband’s Hollywood ending burst when they told him along with my two sisters that it was cancer while I was still in surgery, which  should have been a 2 hour procedure actually took 6 ½ hours.  My strong husband needed to be held up by my sisters, his knees buckled at the news and he wept. When I was done with the operation it was his voice that woke me as they wheeled me out of the elevator.  I could hear him talking on the phone telling someone on the other end that I was out of surgery. I wanted him to know I was doing okay and mumbled “I love you.” My devoted husband slept on a very uncomfortable fold back chair the first 3 nights.  I knew this was difficult feeling so helpless, men always want to fix things and this was something he could not fix. 

I was released from the hospital on Halloween Eve.  Hate hospital but couldn’t do it without the nurses.  What wonderful people they were to me in my care.  Yes sometimes you want them to be quicker because you are in such pain. Their sense of humor helped me through some dark times.  It’s amazing how your poop is so important to the nurses it became a joke.

My other two sisters took over the other nights.  A lot of tears and fears shared and even laughter which I had to do through my chest and throat.  The staples and bags in my belly hurt too much even with drugs. 

I WILL NOT DIE!, is now my personal slogan.  My  three sisters (though one is missing) have always been my rock and laughter when times are bad.  Two of them did not let me down during these dark times. My neighbors and friends have just been unbelievable.  I never knew and am quite surprised at how much they cared.  More later just need to sleep.

To be continued…

I didn’t ever get a chance to speak to my stepdaughter but she did send a nice email to her dad, which was better than my one sister who never responded. I have learned you can only do so much and you have to let go of those who choose not to be a part of your life no matter how much you love them. 

Next week it’s all about chemo and bald heads.  Till them go out there…keep the faith even if it’s not a Hollywood ending.

TELLING MY FAMILY

Telling my family

There is nothing more frightening then having to tell your family you might have cancer. For some reason you feel if you say it out loud it makes it real.  This wasn’t real because cancer happens to other people not me, cancer doesn’t even run in my family.

At first I thought maybe I wouldn’t tell them but that wasn’t realistic.  Maybe I’ll go to sleep and wake up only to realize I was having a nightmare but I knew what wasn’t going to happen either.  Reality had reared its ugly head and the pain of my cancerous growth was all too real as it seared through my body growing daily. 

How does one start such a conversation….

October 5, 2010 (continued)

I called my husband from the car and told him it wasn’t good and he needed to come home.  I couldn’t say cancer while he was at work.  I had to see his eyes and have him hold me.  I made it home first and sat in my favorite reading chair in the living room. I just blurted it out, “They think its cancer.”  The blood flushed from his cheeks and he looked dazed, at first not saying anything then we talked, I cried.  He said he’s not sure if he is in denial or just waiting to see the doctor tomorrow, like maybe it isn’t real.  He isn’t sure what he is feeling yet he was such a comfort to me trying to be brave and hoping for the best.   

Cindy had called me on my cell right after I spoke to the doc and got the news.  I told her I would call her back.  I felt my husband deserved to be told first.  Funny thing was my boob started ringing I forgot I stuck my cellphone in my bra, because I had no pockets, very white trash but it worked. 

After I spoke with my husband it was time to call Cindy back.  I did a 3 way call with two of my sisters.  One sister has chosen to be out of my life so I didn’t call her.  I think I will call her after they cut it out and if it is 100% cancer then I will call her, let her know and then she can choose whatever she wants to do with the info. They say cancer can be hereditary.

Both my sisters wanted to get on the plane at that very moment, I told then to wait in case it’s not cancer.  Later that evening my husband and I wanted to go about our business so I went to the bank and then picked up some fast food.  When I got home he was throwing the boxes away from the bed.  I suddenly had to stop in the driveway and cover my face because I broke down in tears.  I would miss the little things like seeing him every day doing everyday things.  I don’t want to go.  It was there that if it came to the worst I want to fight.  I don’t want to leave him.  God please give me hope.  He needs hope he has had so much tragedy in his life not this too.  I love him too much.  More than I thought I ever really knew.  I can’t live without him even if it meant I went first. 

Everyone tells me not to worry that they will remove it and it might not be cancer.  My body and soul tells me different.  All I know is I am not ready to die.  I am tired and need to go to bed.  I am very satisfied with this life and I have no regrets, but I still want to live a little longer, please.  I’ll say my prayers.  Funny how events like this can put life in perspective.  To love and don’t sweat the little things.

Next time I’ll share the operation and the fear of what was to come.  Till then go out there…don’t sweat the little things and love someone.

MY CANCER DIARIES

 

My Cancer Diaries

If you check out my bio you see that I put down I’m living with cancer.  I choose on this blog not to concentrate on my disease because I feel cancer doesn’t define who I am.  But I must be realistic and therefor I will now and then share with you my experiences in hopes it might help others.  I scan the internet and see I’m not alone and the stories others share on the worldwide web have given me hope in the quicksand of reality. 

There will be times that I might get on my soap box and give my opinion on things or tell little fun stories or down the road show obnoxious videos I make to be silly.  You don’t have to like what I say and that is okay but when you are given a death sentence such as me you have a different outlook on life.  So sometimes I might pass on the lessons my parents taught me or what I have learned in my 48 years.  My mother always told me, “Learn from my mistakes.” So therefore she was an excellent teacher, Ha!

Some blogs are defined by crafts, art, sports etc… mine is just life.  I call it Tuesday@six because I meet with a group of fascinating women that like to write at the local library every Tuesday at 6PM.  We differ in age but we enjoy the creative process of writing and storytelling. I love their books they are working on as well as their critique of what I’m working on.  They open my eyes to new outlooks of my vision in writing.  We are not published (at this time) but as Miley Cyrus sings, “It’s the climb.” 

I figure that if I put a goal to write something on the blog by the time I meet with them it would push and help me in my writing and finishing my book.  I’m just a few chapters away from the finish line of the first draft, Yippee!

I might even share a little of that with you as well.  I’m sorry if I haven’t been as consistent but in the last few months I’ve been doing what the country song says, “Live like you were dying.”

I will share some of those adventures with you a little later, but for now here is an excerpt from my personal journal about my first pain of cancer and hearing what it could be.

 

October 5, 2010

 

Well I got the news today that just blew my socks off.  Definitely wasn’t expecting it.  What I thought might be gallbladder or kidney stones or even endometriosis looks on the CT scan as metastatic cancer.  Not even sure if I am spelling it right. But cancer is all I heard.  It is a big mass and they are not sure where it originates from.

 

The pain started nine days ago at 3:45 AM September 27, 2010.  It woke me up and I didn’t go back to sleep.  At first kidney stones came to mind. But as I tried to work my shift it felt as though it was under my right ribs.  It moved downward by Tuesday and was all over the right side.  Took Naproxen for my sore neck on Sunday night and one of the side effects is stomach pain so I called the Doctor.  I was able to get in at once when I told them what medication I had taken.

He touched my stomach and I wanted to hit him.  I could see it in his eyes that this was not normal but he kept his cool.  The pain was unbearable.  I looked like I was 8 months pregnant but my legs looked skinnier.  He ordered a CT scan and the earliest I could get in was Friday.  I had to work till 2PM and they had an appointment for 3PM.  Perfect I thought.

 

I held my breath as the machine told me too and the donut shape moved up and down my body.  I was told the doctor would have the answer by Monday.  The pain continued throughout the weekend even though I tried to get the bedrooms ready and put in a new bed in the master. 

 

It took all day because I could only work on it for about 20 minutes then I needed to rest.  I go to work and it is the same.  By the time I’m done all I do is come home and veg out with the heating pad.  All my energy was and is sucked out of me.

I was in the school office when I got the news.  It was like a freight train had come through.  I was totally not expecting the “C” word, maybe stones, maybe endo, but not cancer.  My boss was around me and her sister.  I could not stop writing words down as the doctor kept talking about what did not look good.  He said he didn’t want to scare me but that it wasn’t good. 

 

I wrote the words metastatic cancer and pointed to it so my boss could see.  They shut the office door.  She had a scare this year and I believe she understood what I was going through. Afterwards I just started crying and said I wasn’t expecting to hear this.  She told me not to worry that her mass ended up not being cancer, so wait until I knew more.  Of course I will have to go under the knife. We won’t know for sure until then.

 

to be continued...

 

I’ll later share with you about telling my family, hearing the final analysis, the fun of chemo (I’m totally being sarcastic) and going bald (every woman’s dream). Until next time go out there…climb that mountain and live like you were dying.



THE BUCKET LIST

The Bucket List

We all have one somewhere in our minds or written down on the back of an envelope in a pile of papers.  We always convince ourselves that one day we’d get to it, but I now believe never leave it to someday, because you never know when there will be no more days to check off something on that list.

Unlike the movie The Bucket List with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson most of us don’t have the luck of meeting up with a wealthy person to help us fulfill the items on our personal list. 

When I received my first diagnosis my husband did everything he could working overtime so I could visit my relatives and go back home to one of my childhood haunts of Conroe, Texas.  I’ve been working on a book with the back drop of Conroe and wanted to see if it was how I remembered.  I went with my sisters Leigh and Cindy and read them excerpts from the book as we took a tour of the places certain scenes took place around town. 

It had been over forty years but I went back in time and became that four year old little girl as I waded in the cool waters of the San Jacinto River with my sisters.  It was as though my cancer floated away in the murky waters.

I saw family friends I hadn’t seen since I was a child and stayed in their house that was two doors down from my Houston home.  The neighborhood hadn’t changed much since the 60’s.  While I was there I celebrated my birthday that I thought I’d never see and the Gallo family surprised me with a “Barbie” cake.  I told myself during chemo that if I lived long enough to see my next birthday I wanted a “Barbie” cake, but I never told anyone.  I cried.

I didn’t have a millionaire but I had aunts and uncles who helped me by letting me stay with them or take me around to places I lived at as a child in Tennessee and shared memories.  I will never forget driving with the top down with my Aunt in Cape Cod.  I had cousins that cooked for me, made me laugh and hung out with me at the grave yards (I see dead people, Ha!) and let me stay in their home on the beach.  I want to thank them for helping me have such a wonderful time.  My family and friends are very diverse but they are great.

When my second diagnosis came this past year and the odds looked bleak I said to myself I need to find a way to fulfill a childhood dream of mine to go to the Bahamas and swim with dolphins.  My parents went to the Bahamas in a once in a lifetime trip that I believe they won though a contest. Listening to my mother tell me how wonderful it was I dreamt maybe one day I’d see the beaches of the islands, but felt it would never happen.

My husband went into overdrive when he found this out and also the children and staff that I worked with at the Winner School.  When I had to take my leave of absence due to my chemo treatments the kids had started a wishing well fund.  With their pennies and some help from generous parents and my boss I was able to make that trip. 

When my boss first told me what they were doing and if it’s okay I was hesitant.  My husband and I talked it over and said it was fine but we would only accept a certain amount.  When all was said and done it was way more than I ever expected and had a difficult time excepting the generous funds.  I cried for days in disbelief, I felt unworthy of such a wonderful gift.

With the help of All Points Travel setting everything up, my husband and I had the times of our lives and I was able to cross off two items on my bucket list.  The people of Nassau were wonderful, the place was beautiful and I wanted to take the dolphins’ home.  My eyes welled with tears as I rubbed the belly of a dolphin knowing this dream could not have been fulfilled if it wasn’t for the kids, staff and my husband.  I am truly blessed and realize we are not meant to take this journey through life alone.

I’ve always told people that in some ways it has been a blessing to get cancer.  It’s not a walk in the park but just like in a Tim McGraw’s song the lyrics say “I hope you get the chance to live like you were dyin’.”

Sorry I haven’t posted anything the last two Tuesdays but I’ve been crossing off my bucket list and I challenge you to do the same.  Go out there…cross something off your bucket list today.
 

The last day in the Bahamas:(Say cheese!

We had a blast and it was beautiful! My 47th birthday cake the Gallo's made for me:)

In Conroe, Texas 5 months after my first 6 rounds of chemo and me and my sisters with our feet in the San Jacinto River where we used to swim as kids.

 My feet in the sands of Cape Cod.

The Naked Truth about a Prince, a Vampire and the Astronaut

The Naked Truth about a Prince, a Vampire and the Astronaut

 

            So here we are in the middle of social media and what do most of us do with it.  Well if I am seeing things right we’re acting like complete fools.  If someone has a breakdown on a plane we get our cell phones out and aim it at the person who already has it tough, but who cares we can sell it to the news like FOX or CNN, we can be rich by selling our souls. Where are the Walter Cronkite’s of today?

            The naked truth about Prince Harry and his photo’s is he wasn’t acting very royal except maybe a royal pain to his family. In my youth if someone did something stupid that involved the birthday suit we didn’t have cell phones for the quick pic of the moment and we didn’t have paparazzi following our every move.  I love Harry but honey zip it up and think twice before you have too many drinks and pick better friends. For the person distributing them I feel sorry for you that you feel you need to profit and destroy someone else’s reputation while you were butt naked taking pictures.  He wasn't being smart but remember you treat others as you want to be treated so don’t feel bad if someone plasters your family jewels for your children and future generations to see.  What a proud moment on the family tree.

            I want to know who was in the bushes stalking Kristen Stewart and that much married Snow White film director?  Was it a stupid act on their part? Yes, but she is single and he’s married with children and twenty years older than her so why are people calling her a trampire for entertainment. I’m not going to be up on my soap box on this but all I have to say is whoever took that picture obviously needed the money because if they really wanted to help they could have exposed this affair in private and not put the families through all this media frenzy.  I’d hate to see what is hiding in your closet.

            Last but not least my hero died just a few days ago Neil Armstrong.  When I was turning five and living in Conroe, Texas my mother called me in from play and made me watch the landing on the moon.  I was mesmerized watching the old black and white.  Times were much simpler then and I didn’t have a cell phone to text anyone but I had a family that sat down with me and we shared a historical moment together.

            Upon his death the internet and twitter were a buzz but to my dismay when I turned on my computer and saw Lance Armstrong’s picture under the title First Man on Moon, Neil Armstrong dead at 82 I just lost it.  Are we so in a hurry to be the first to have the story of someone’s failure or torrid pictures of a disaster that we don’t check the facts or care what it might do to someone?  Remember what you put on blogs, facebook, twitter whatever the media, its forever out there.  Calm down your anger when it comes to comments on social media all that swearing shows you don’t have the intelligence to come up with something wittier.  You’re smart.

            You may think we can’t see you behind the lens or the key board but what you put out there shows everyone who you truly are.  If you can’t say it face to face or you don’t want embarrassing pictures of yourself than think twice before you push the publish button because most of us are not interested in your personal hygiene moments and other classless stuff that are best to be deleted.

            In 1969 Neil Armstrong was the first person on the moon and before he left a historical foot print in the dust he said, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." So here’s a thought, let’s leap forward and go out there…turn off the twitter and talk to someone face to face use the cell phone for taking pictures of beauty because you might miss something historical in your own life.

CATS ARE ANGELS TOO!

Cats are Angels too!

          I moved around a lot as a child but even though my sisters and I were uprooted every two years we seem to manage to adopt a pet off the streets or from some pet store.  The sad thing is when we moved we had to give up the animals.  Our mother would tell us they would be going to good homes, as I got older I stopped asking because I didn’t want to know where these “good homes” were.

            I’m sure I’m not alone in the tragedies of loving a domesticated animal only to lose them to other families or for some to be truly lost or killed due to living in city traffic.  I was mostly a lover of cats and every pet I have owned is still a part of me, but it wasn’t until my illness did I realize how important animals are to our everyday life. 

            When my father had a stroke years before he died I had moved away for a short while and left my parents with my much loved Calico cat.  After a couple of years I moved back and got an apartment in the next town.  I wanted to have my cat with me.  I was too stupid to recognize the bond that my father, who was mostly bedridden, and the Calico had formed in my absence.

            My mother explained to me that the cat would sleep on my father’s chest tucked in his beard and that the cat would sit on the table next to him as he painted.  The Calico watched patiently as my father applied every brush stroke to canvas with a hand that was trembling.

            On the first night I was in my new apartment the cat ran away not to return for days disheveled and scared.  In my heart I knew she was looking for my father and I wish I was smarter back then to realize she was no longer my cat but my fathers.

            When I had my cancer surgery in October of 2010 two of my sisters were in town and stayed with my husband as they took shifts with me at the hospital.  Little did I know but my beloved cat Mookie was going through her own pain of not having me home.  She would look at my sisters and though they had dark hair and our voices sounded similar she knew it wasn’t me.

            After about a week she was so distraught my husband told me she attacked him as though he was responsible for me being gone.  When I was able to leave the hospital and come home she didn’t leave my side and though in the past she would sleep or walk on my belly somehow she knew not to do so.

            Once my family left and my husband had to return to work she babysat me, literally.  My husband gave the cat instructions to keep me in bed, well its hard keeping me down so when I mustered up the energy I got out of bed and wanted to go down stairs.  Mookie sat at the door of the bedroom all fluffed up and yellow eyes piercing into mine.  Her eyes let me know she took my husband’s instructions to heart and did not budge from the door way.  I had to laugh as she wouldn’t let me through and walked back into bed as she joined me and stayed there till he got home.

            She is my little angel and a life saver during those dark hours when I was home alone until my husband’s return.  She allowed me to cry and many times reached out with her paw to touch my arm.  My husband has also told me how she has come to his rescue during those first days after my cancer nightmare.

            Sometimes we might look at our pets and see them as animals that we must take care of but its moments like these that I realized they actually take care of us.  Go out there …adopt an animal or hug the one you’ve got because you never know how long you have them before they have to find a “new home.”  I’m happy to say my angel has been with us for over 11 years.

 Mookie saying her daily prayers

Here she stands her ground

 She lets us know she doesn't want us to go away

The War on Cancer

The War on Cancer

          Just the other day I had my 3 month checkup at my oncologist.  You ask any cancer survivor or one living with cancer this is one of the most nerve racking experiences someone can go through.  It’s only a blood test (CA-125) but it’s a test that tells you how much sand you have left in your hour glass.

          I remember being upset when I heard that Elizabeth Edward’s (ex-wife to the idiot John Edwards) stop being tested before she died of cancer because she couldn’t take it anymore.  At the time I thought how could anyone give up especially when you have young children.  I was naïve and now see her example was in her strength of living up to the time of her death.  I had just had my surgery (October 2010) to remove all my cancer and started my first chemo, I was in the fight for my life.  This is what I call boot camp.

          You’re learning how to use your weapon (your mind) and studying up on the guns and ammunition (chemo treatments).  I remember walking daily in the cold snowy winter months, because my oncologist told me I needed too, much like a soldier drudging in the mud knowing if he/she doesn’t learn these skills it is a matter of life and death.  My Generals were my surgeon and oncologist.  My captain’s were nurses that guided me through everyday land mines.  I did everything they asked me to do.  I was a good soldier.  I was determined not to have the cancer come back.

          Once you are done with your treatment and your counts are normal (a CA-125 is a blood marker for cancer and normal is 0-35 I started this journey with over 800) you hope you never have to battle cancer again.  They call you cancer free if your counts are good for 5 years.  Insurance companies won’t even look at you to insure you if your counts aren’t clear for 10 years.

          Much like war, the enemy (cancer) crossed the lines and came back into my territory during December 2011 as my counts started climbing and tripling.  Chemo started in the beginning of 2012, what a way to start the New Year.  What doctors failed to tell me the first time around is that once it comes back it becomes incurable which is political correctness for saying terminal.

          I don’t believe in being politically correct so I asked for the writing on the wall.  When they told me women in my case usually live 1 to 3 years but there is a small case of women making it to10 I’m sure I turned white as a sheet.  But I told myself I’m not like other women and cancer will not define me I will define it.

          I’m sure I’m not original in this thinking, but it is something that anyone facing this kind of a diagnosis must think about.  Do you simply throw in your last grenade or go in full barrels loaded and all the ammo you’ve got.  Save your bombs for that last stretch of beach that is your territory. 

You fight every day in this battle hoping that medical science might help and rescue you, but for now you know you have an army behind you and you are not alone.  There are others in the trenches and you must support one another until the very end.  Some will go before you and others after but one day in time the War can and will be won, I believe that.

I have been doing well and enjoying some R&R, so when I walked into the cancer center that day I was sure they must have misdiagnosed me and had the wrong draft card, but I was thrown back into reality when I noticed a gentleman in a wheel chair.  He wasn’t much older than me but I could tell he was in his last stages.  Battle scars were visible upon his face but I saw a strong warrior.  He was there for his chemo cocktail, frail but fighting. 

Most cancer patients have a port (that is a devise they put in your body to make it easier for you to handle the needles etc…).  I had my first one removed and I refer to the device as my purple heart because of its shape.  I am not trying to compare my fight with the real heroes of today I’m just trying to state that anyone dealing with a life altering disease can model themselves with their courage.

They go on fighting for their cause and have faith in their fellow soldiers.  We must do the same.  Even when you feel your number is up, muster whatever energy you have left and go out there…storm that beach, you might not live through that battle but your courage will help win this war!

My Purple Heart