Well, Monday's treatment day and I'd heard some bad stories about treatment day, but for me, treatment day is da' bomb! I feel superhuman on treatment day. I can control young children and eat food enthusiastically on treatment day! I can threaten teenagers with bodily harm if they don't obey me and believe that I could actually carry out the threat! I CAN GROCERY SHOP ON TREATMENT DAY! AND LIKE IT!
Our home computer crashed yet again last night--side effects of having Parker playing computer games for unnatural amounts of time throughout Spring Break. She just couldn't take anymore so she froze up and died, and now until we get a new computer or get the old girl cleaned up my blogs may be a little more infrequent, but since today is MONDAY, I was able to get down to Greg's store to do my blogging. Hooray!
So there were a lot of side effects of cancer today that didn't have anything to do with my actual body. All my kids are falling apart physically, and I'm beginning to think it may be psychosomatic for all of them because to me, they just don't seem that sick. Rachel and Hunter both came home early from school today, both with stomach ailments of mysterious nature, and though Kate made it through school, she is now often complaining of eye spots, leg cramps, unidentified bruises, and other maladies. How did I become the nurse instead of the patient? So far Tadman seems to be okay, and Parker has always had mystery pains so they are nothing new to him, but I am hoping they adjust and recover so they don't all flunk out of school so late in the year.
Now back to my pain... It's always fun to talk about the adventures of going to MSTI each week. Today while I was waiting I was able to put a good 10 or 11 pieces into a puzzle in the waiting area. If I could have only stayed all day I could have finished that sucker, but alas I had to do labs so I couldn't. The good news with labs is that my surgeon did a beautiful job putting in my port so that it's almost invisible to the human eye (unless that eye is a nurse's eye), but the bad news is, all the nurses have trouble accessing it to do my blood draws because it is indeed so well concealed. So today, for the sake of saving me the inconvenience of having to take blood from the veins in my arms, they had to stick a needle into my chest SIX times before they found the golden spot and got access to that tiny little port! YOUCH! But they were so nice. Really they are nice.
Then all the computers were down so they couldn't properly analyze the blood samples, so I had to wait awhile on that, so they sent me in to see my Oncologist. Umm, my doctor is not a happy man when his computer is malfunctioning, so it was an interesting visit. I'd say "my chest felt kind of weird this week, like a lot of activity was going on in that region. Is that a normal side effect?" to which he would reply, "I just don't understand why the computer guys just can't boot it up before we get here and see if it will work when we have a full load of patients. Why can't they do that? What's so hard about a trial run? Do you get that?" Then he washed his hands twice, his stethoscope once, listened to my lungs, and gave me a prescription for heartburn. But this is a doctor that I really like when his computer is working.
Back to the lobby to put in a few more puzzle pieces (so frustrating, yet addicting) and then I was called back to the CHEMO ROOM (imagine ominous music in the background as you read this).
While I was receiving my steroids and feel good anti-nausea medication, a nice little gentleman fetched me a warm blanket and a bagel with cream cheese and some juice. Apparently I will have to take advantage of treatment days when people offer to fetch me things since my family is lanquishing at home. The volunteers at MSTI seem quite chipper and healthy. While I was eating my bagel and breathing through my mouth since I still have a stuffy nose, my great friend Sarah Nokleby called my cell phone and when I told her I was at chemo she rushed down to enjoy it with me. Then we went to lunch, because food sounds fun on Mondays! Of course I had to pick ill children up from school first, but I did enjoy lunch immensely, both the food and the conversation, and that I owe to steroids. So thank you steroids.
And thank you to Sarah who patiently waited for the ambulance run, thank you to the Stewarts for the ultimate comfort food Sunday dinner yesterday, and to my other sweet friends for the phone calls, to Karla for the signed (BY IAN JOHNSON, ULTIMATE LOCAL CELEB) BSU bag (you know what I like, Karla) and the other encouraging jokes, songs, and notes, to my Aunt Mary who is far more ill than I am but still sending me messages of hope and encouragement, and to mom and my dear sister, Heather for never taking "no" for an answer ever. Thank you all for your lovely meals. My kids are in heaven and often fight off their pains with extra portions of dessert (which actually may explain some of those bellyaches, huh?) And even though Parker told me only 2 people asked about me at church (I didn't enquire, he volunteered) I know the rest of you just talked to Greg, Rachel, or Kate. I am feeling the love, do not doubt that. And thank you Jamie for subbing for my Sunday school class not once, but twice! I really appreciate you calling and doing it so willingly. I have, I think, the greatest family and friends in all the world, and I don't think that's just the steroids talking! Now go enjoy the rest of your Monday!!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
I Believe in Yesterday. Today Was Another Story.
I was somewhat productive yesterday. When I woke up, my mom and sister were here collecting dirty laundry and folding and putting away clean laundry. I was inspired to get up and help them out. My sister has been quite remarkable in her dedication to serving my family. As I previously discussed, she has finished my bedroom, watched Taddy several times, folded many loads of laundry, brought freezer meals, and sent her husband over to do some handy manning. When we were at the temple together the same day I learned of my diagnosis, Heather told me she'd been praying to find out what direction God wanted her life to take now that her kids were growing up and leaving home. She said she'd been discouraged, because she hadn't had a definite answer to those prayers, but she believes now that the reason for the delayed answer is because she needed to have the flexibility and time to help me through this cancer treatment. I can tell you she has wholeheartedly embraced that duty. And yes, I know what a blessing she is to me!
After getting up and moving around I was feeling well enough to get some things done. I cleaned the kitchen, put some laundry away and sucked up some leaves in the yard with the Shop Vac even! I even went to a movie (Coraline) and dinner with my in-laws and the kids. I loved the movie! I was so engrossed I forgot I had cancer for a few hours. It was very artistic, with a very strong animation style and an interesting plot. You should go if you haven't.
When we returned from dinner Heather was at my house again! This time she brought several of her kids with her and they were trimming bushes and doing a spring clean-up of our entire yard. That's what prompted me to get that Shop Vac out--I helped a little with the finishing touches. She and my mom had also purchased clothes for Kate, Hunter, and Parker, and a variety of beverages for me since I have to drink so many glasses of water each day to flush out all these meds.
Unfortunately I kept busy enough that I forgot to keep up with my anti-nausea medicines, so come late evening I was feeling a little weak and weepy--like I felt a lot of Thursday. I have evidence now that the meds actually do something! Rachel came to my aid and made sure I caught up and then sweetly helped me up to bed, and the nausea was much better in the morning, but in its place was a nasty cold with lots of nose running and sneezing.
So I've been much less energetic today and have achieved very little other than watching a few basketball games and napping in a warm snugly blanket with Tadman and Kate.
Greg was well enough to go to work for part of the day, the kids all went to the Y, and Tadman got a few rides in daddy's "huck" (truck), so everyone was active and doing but me.
Even though I've been down physically today I have really enjoyed the time with my family. Tadman is adorable and so much fun, Kate did a fashion show for me, Parker gave me lots of hugs and kisses, and Hunter was my guy for drinks and medicines and anything else I needed. Rachel took the day off for a change and enjoyed shopping and friends, but has been a calming presence ever since she returned home.
As I approach the end of my first week of cancer treatment here are my observations. Yes, the treatment will at times be hard, and sometimes very hard, but it's nice to have a reason to cut the non-essentials of life, to spend more time with my family, to say "no" without guilt or second thought, to let people help. I feel so much closer to so many people already, and I think that's a great side effect. I'm enjoying your comments about my blog and I'm glad my friends are reading it. I'm filled with gratitude for your prayers and support.
After getting up and moving around I was feeling well enough to get some things done. I cleaned the kitchen, put some laundry away and sucked up some leaves in the yard with the Shop Vac even! I even went to a movie (Coraline) and dinner with my in-laws and the kids. I loved the movie! I was so engrossed I forgot I had cancer for a few hours. It was very artistic, with a very strong animation style and an interesting plot. You should go if you haven't.
When we returned from dinner Heather was at my house again! This time she brought several of her kids with her and they were trimming bushes and doing a spring clean-up of our entire yard. That's what prompted me to get that Shop Vac out--I helped a little with the finishing touches. She and my mom had also purchased clothes for Kate, Hunter, and Parker, and a variety of beverages for me since I have to drink so many glasses of water each day to flush out all these meds.
Unfortunately I kept busy enough that I forgot to keep up with my anti-nausea medicines, so come late evening I was feeling a little weak and weepy--like I felt a lot of Thursday. I have evidence now that the meds actually do something! Rachel came to my aid and made sure I caught up and then sweetly helped me up to bed, and the nausea was much better in the morning, but in its place was a nasty cold with lots of nose running and sneezing.
So I've been much less energetic today and have achieved very little other than watching a few basketball games and napping in a warm snugly blanket with Tadman and Kate.
Greg was well enough to go to work for part of the day, the kids all went to the Y, and Tadman got a few rides in daddy's "huck" (truck), so everyone was active and doing but me.
Even though I've been down physically today I have really enjoyed the time with my family. Tadman is adorable and so much fun, Kate did a fashion show for me, Parker gave me lots of hugs and kisses, and Hunter was my guy for drinks and medicines and anything else I needed. Rachel took the day off for a change and enjoyed shopping and friends, but has been a calming presence ever since she returned home.
As I approach the end of my first week of cancer treatment here are my observations. Yes, the treatment will at times be hard, and sometimes very hard, but it's nice to have a reason to cut the non-essentials of life, to spend more time with my family, to say "no" without guilt or second thought, to let people help. I feel so much closer to so many people already, and I think that's a great side effect. I'm enjoying your comments about my blog and I'm glad my friends are reading it. I'm filled with gratitude for your prayers and support.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Reality Has Set In. I Won't Be the First Energetic, Vibrant Chemo Patient Ever.
Today I hit the chemo wall, I think. I got a little taste of what I'm in for for the next 11 weeks and 3 days. Yeah, that's right, I'm already reduced to counting the days.
I woke up with an upset stomach and I have one now, and it's been the same every minute in between. It's not nausea. It's that feeling of hating all food, but knowing you'll feel much worse if you don't eat. Just 2 days ago I liked food a lot, but today I don't care to ever think, smell, or taste food ever again.
I am able to do a lot of the things I normally do, however. I cleaned the kitchen, took care of Tadman and gave him a bath, and folded socks today. Hooray! I actually like the feeling of accomplishing something.
Rachel took me to get a Whopper in the early afternoon because I couldn't think of anything else I thought I could eat. We also got some cat food and Biotene Toothpaste. It was recommended by my dentist to help prevent the mouth sores that often come with chemo.
Greg was still sick and stayed home today. We kept him pretty isolated to try to prevent spreading his illness around the house. Unfortunately I'm afraid to go anywhere near him, so Rachel's been warming soup and fetching medicines and liquids for him. She's been wonderful to both of us, poor girl.
I got a little afternoon nap today under a nice warm blanket. I fell asleep to "Pride and Prejudice" which is always very soothing to me. The little kids (Hunter on down) were with their grandma and Ron at the family fun center formerly called Boondocks. It was nice to have the peace and quiet so the ill old folks in the family could sleep.
We had another lovely meal tonight--I was actually able to eat it!--and I watched a little NCAA tournament action. That was almost enough to make me feel good!
The best moment of the day came when I was getting Taddy's jammies on. He gave me the best, tightest hugs as I changed him. Feeling his sweet, soft warm little body in my arms was the best. It made the sadness, the stomach, and the fear all melt away for a few minutes. How fortunate I feel to have that little friend in my home while I endure this treatment. Everything about him exudes life and hope!!
Thank you friends for the food and the phone calls and checking in on me. I really do appreciate the support and you are making a difference. Continue to pray for me, especially that I'll be able bear this cancer treatment with courage and hope.
I woke up with an upset stomach and I have one now, and it's been the same every minute in between. It's not nausea. It's that feeling of hating all food, but knowing you'll feel much worse if you don't eat. Just 2 days ago I liked food a lot, but today I don't care to ever think, smell, or taste food ever again.
I am able to do a lot of the things I normally do, however. I cleaned the kitchen, took care of Tadman and gave him a bath, and folded socks today. Hooray! I actually like the feeling of accomplishing something.
Rachel took me to get a Whopper in the early afternoon because I couldn't think of anything else I thought I could eat. We also got some cat food and Biotene Toothpaste. It was recommended by my dentist to help prevent the mouth sores that often come with chemo.
Greg was still sick and stayed home today. We kept him pretty isolated to try to prevent spreading his illness around the house. Unfortunately I'm afraid to go anywhere near him, so Rachel's been warming soup and fetching medicines and liquids for him. She's been wonderful to both of us, poor girl.
I got a little afternoon nap today under a nice warm blanket. I fell asleep to "Pride and Prejudice" which is always very soothing to me. The little kids (Hunter on down) were with their grandma and Ron at the family fun center formerly called Boondocks. It was nice to have the peace and quiet so the ill old folks in the family could sleep.
We had another lovely meal tonight--I was actually able to eat it!--and I watched a little NCAA tournament action. That was almost enough to make me feel good!
The best moment of the day came when I was getting Taddy's jammies on. He gave me the best, tightest hugs as I changed him. Feeling his sweet, soft warm little body in my arms was the best. It made the sadness, the stomach, and the fear all melt away for a few minutes. How fortunate I feel to have that little friend in my home while I endure this treatment. Everything about him exudes life and hope!!
Thank you friends for the food and the phone calls and checking in on me. I really do appreciate the support and you are making a difference. Continue to pray for me, especially that I'll be able bear this cancer treatment with courage and hope.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Bedroom Looks Great, the Husband, Not So Much
A little bit of a routine is starting to emerge. Taddy and Kate come into my bedroom, I take a Compazine to prevent nausea, I drink a huge bottle of water to flush all these meds through my system, I give myself a little Neupogen shot, then try to think of something to eat with my 4 chemo pills so I won't get sick once they hit my stomach. It's all kind of a game to keep one step in front of the stomach upset everyone has warned me to be very afraid of. So far I haven't had any nausea, but today I feel a lot like I did during pregnancies--kind of tired, kind of upset stomach, kind of blah, but nothing terrible.
The routine was broken up a little today when my sister and her husband and kids showed up to do some work in my room. Heather has a degree in interior design and has a great flair for accessorizing homes, so I asked her if she would spruce up my bedroom a little since I'll be spending a fair amount of time there in the next few months. She very graciously agreed, and has worked non-stop ever since selecting just the right things. Today she brought her crew over to put things in place. I will include a picture tomorrow when the placement is perfected. Her husband, Kelly, sons Landon, Colton, and Bowen, and her daughter Brooklyn were all working away in there, the younger kids folding my laundry when their other assignments were complete. It was great in every way. I loved the energy they brought to our house, the fun, and the service too. They are a great family!
Just as they were finishing up, bad news arrived. Greg came home from work shivering and shaking and nauseated. After taking his temperature (102.5 degrees) and giving him some Tylenol, I threw a blanket in his direction and spent the rest of the evening staying as far away from him as possible. He thinks he picked this little bug up at basketball practice where a coach and a couple of players have had the same symptoms. Normally I laugh in germs' faces, but on chemotherapy you are supposed to go to the emergency room if your temperature reaches 100.5 and I really don't want to go to the emergency room! We've decided to switch every one's bedroom assignments around in the hopes of avoiding the dreaded infection, so Greg's in Parker's bed, Parker's in Kate's, and Kate's sleeping with me. Hopefully that will help.
The routine was broken up a little today when my sister and her husband and kids showed up to do some work in my room. Heather has a degree in interior design and has a great flair for accessorizing homes, so I asked her if she would spruce up my bedroom a little since I'll be spending a fair amount of time there in the next few months. She very graciously agreed, and has worked non-stop ever since selecting just the right things. Today she brought her crew over to put things in place. I will include a picture tomorrow when the placement is perfected. Her husband, Kelly, sons Landon, Colton, and Bowen, and her daughter Brooklyn were all working away in there, the younger kids folding my laundry when their other assignments were complete. It was great in every way. I loved the energy they brought to our house, the fun, and the service too. They are a great family!
Just as they were finishing up, bad news arrived. Greg came home from work shivering and shaking and nauseated. After taking his temperature (102.5 degrees) and giving him some Tylenol, I threw a blanket in his direction and spent the rest of the evening staying as far away from him as possible. He thinks he picked this little bug up at basketball practice where a coach and a couple of players have had the same symptoms. Normally I laugh in germs' faces, but on chemotherapy you are supposed to go to the emergency room if your temperature reaches 100.5 and I really don't want to go to the emergency room! We've decided to switch every one's bedroom assignments around in the hopes of avoiding the dreaded infection, so Greg's in Parker's bed, Parker's in Kate's, and Kate's sleeping with me. Hopefully that will help.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
A Little Neupogen Injection, A Lot of Gratitude!
Today is a good day, both because I feel good and because my visit to MSTI took only a few minutes. While I was there I learned how to give myself Neupogen injections at home, which is great for me, because I need them 4 times a week and that's a lot of trips to MSTI! It isn't as gross as you'd think. All you need is clean hands, and alcohol wipe, a syringe, and a little body fat to squish--so I'm in!
Neupogen is a medication designed to promote white blood cell production in the body. It works by amping up cell production in the bone marrow. A possible side effect of the medication is an achy sensation in the large bones of the body kind of like when you're getting the flu. If the pain becomes too intense, the doctor will sometimes let you skip the Friday shot, otherwise you just keep taking them. These shots come with serious sticker shock--our portion of the costs AFTER INSURANCE was $1,200. WHAT?
Since the medical portion of my blog is short today, I want to use this space as a THANK YOU card of sorts (since my friends have forbidden me to write individual thank you notes). I have so many people to thank for many many acts of kindness. If I forget you PLEASE forgive me. Your thought is no less appreciated.
I want to thank my sister-in-law Valerie who picked me up the morning of my surgery, drove me to the hospital, waited patiently while I checked in, did surgery prep, and had anesthesia. She talked with my doctors after the surgery, and was with me immediately when I woke up. I want to thank my sweet niece Ashley for arranging the best of the best to help me through every second of that procedure. She was even in the operating room with me and her beautiful smiling eyes were my last visual before I succumbed to the anesthetic.
I want to thank my mom and my sister Heather for freezer meals, laundry folding, and bedroom decorating, and my brother-in-law Kelly for being my personal handyman--putting safety locks on my doors so Tadman can't escape, and installing a very handsome drapery rod in my room.
I want to thank Jesse McOmber for accepting the full time job of being our home teacher, and for coming to our house on Sunday evening to give us a message of hope, and then assisting Greg with healing and father's blessings, and then giving Greg a very sweet blessing of his own.
My friend Laurie Gabrielsen showed up near the end to present me with a huge basket of notes, food, lotions, candles, socks, chocolate, and other lovely goodies. I'm pretty sure I cried at each note I opened. Justine Powell sent delicious chocolate cookies for a perfect Sunday night treat, and Sister Johnston sent a beautiful doll and card. Annette's gift of the little boy with the hope balloon really touched me, as did Becca Brienholt's story of the lady losing her hair. I will try to be as optimistic as that lady, Becca!
I am grateful to all the sisters in the ward who sent freezer meals and continue to send food. We've had the best wheat bread, the best desserts, soups, and rolls. My kids will be sadly disappointed when I'm the only cook again!
Thank you to Mindy Johnson and Justine for babysitting Tadman. What a relief it is to leave him in the homes of trusted friends who love him!
Thank you to Ted and Jan for the bouquet of spring flowers. That'll lift your mood in a hurry!
Thank you to Greg's mom and step dad for the many, many, many times they have stepped in, sometimes at the last moment, and taken over the management of the kids. Thanks to them my kids have gotten to their appointments and practices, been fed and clothed and washed, and especially and most importantly, watched over. Along they way they've fixed a bike, a cabinet knob, killed ants, folded clothes and loved Tadman so well he'd rather be with them than anyone else.
Thank you for everyone who had called or visited to offer encouragement and support. I've really liked talking to my great family and friends on the phone and have had some better than ever conversations.
Thank you to Connie McMurray for happily stepping in to finish off my end of school year duties as Mrs. Lane's room parent. She's doing it ALL for me, a mere acquaintance of hers. I am sure we are acquaintances no longer but now great friends!
Thank you to Kristina Aceves ( I hope I got the spelling correct!) who filled me in on all the details of cancer treatment and made me believe I could do it!
I also had a fabulous and encouraging talk with my friend Paula Pulley about cancer treatment and the great things it can inspire in kids. I hope my kids will step up and care for each other and get stronger and closer from this experience. I hear it's happened before.
I want to thank Valerie Davis for the card, the book and the lucky bamboo. I need lucky bamboo right now! Val, with the help of Barb Fletcher, is also covering all my Football Booster duties but letting me keep my dignified TREASURER title. They're even gonna let me back in when the season starts. Thank you girls!
Thanks to our friends and partners in business Betsy and Michael Layton. Betsy sent a lovely card and candle and Michael helped Greg with inventory when Greg was at the NCAA basketball games. Who's da' man!!
I appreciate all the guys that work with my husband and help him keep business going in a sluggish economy.
Thank you to my family for hanging in there with me through better or worse as they say, to Hunter for shaving his head, to Rachel being my first chemo companion, to Parker for increasing greatly his hugs and kisses, to Kate for keeping me on my toes and always wanting to do something fun, to Tadman for occassionally cuddling even though breast feeding has been abruptly withdrawn, and to Greg for feeling just the same about me as he felt before I had cancer. Oh, and for paying all my exorbitant medical bills!
Thank you to Joe Gabrielsen and Mike Hyde for coming over at the last minute and giving me a healing blessing before my surgery. That one worked to perfection. I recovered from that surgery in no time.
Thank you to my friends Sarah Nokleby and Melissa McOmber for helping me start this blog so I can spread the word about the joys and pains of cancer treatment and keep everyone well informed--right now you're probably feeling a little too well informed--of my progress.
And thank you to Becky Phillips for taking some BEFORE pictures with me and my family just in case the AFTER is unrecognizable. Plus, I'll be so happy to have some up-to-date family pictures for the blog! YEAH BECKY!
As you can see I have an army of well wishers in my corner, praying constantly for my well being, and that is a GREAT feeling! I sincerely love you all and thank you most humbly for your instincts of goodness and for spreading that goodness in my direction. You are all da' bomb, baby!
Neupogen is a medication designed to promote white blood cell production in the body. It works by amping up cell production in the bone marrow. A possible side effect of the medication is an achy sensation in the large bones of the body kind of like when you're getting the flu. If the pain becomes too intense, the doctor will sometimes let you skip the Friday shot, otherwise you just keep taking them. These shots come with serious sticker shock--our portion of the costs AFTER INSURANCE was $1,200. WHAT?
Since the medical portion of my blog is short today, I want to use this space as a THANK YOU card of sorts (since my friends have forbidden me to write individual thank you notes). I have so many people to thank for many many acts of kindness. If I forget you PLEASE forgive me. Your thought is no less appreciated.
I want to thank my sister-in-law Valerie who picked me up the morning of my surgery, drove me to the hospital, waited patiently while I checked in, did surgery prep, and had anesthesia. She talked with my doctors after the surgery, and was with me immediately when I woke up. I want to thank my sweet niece Ashley for arranging the best of the best to help me through every second of that procedure. She was even in the operating room with me and her beautiful smiling eyes were my last visual before I succumbed to the anesthetic.
I want to thank my mom and my sister Heather for freezer meals, laundry folding, and bedroom decorating, and my brother-in-law Kelly for being my personal handyman--putting safety locks on my doors so Tadman can't escape, and installing a very handsome drapery rod in my room.
I want to thank Jesse McOmber for accepting the full time job of being our home teacher, and for coming to our house on Sunday evening to give us a message of hope, and then assisting Greg with healing and father's blessings, and then giving Greg a very sweet blessing of his own.
My friend Laurie Gabrielsen showed up near the end to present me with a huge basket of notes, food, lotions, candles, socks, chocolate, and other lovely goodies. I'm pretty sure I cried at each note I opened. Justine Powell sent delicious chocolate cookies for a perfect Sunday night treat, and Sister Johnston sent a beautiful doll and card. Annette's gift of the little boy with the hope balloon really touched me, as did Becca Brienholt's story of the lady losing her hair. I will try to be as optimistic as that lady, Becca!
I am grateful to all the sisters in the ward who sent freezer meals and continue to send food. We've had the best wheat bread, the best desserts, soups, and rolls. My kids will be sadly disappointed when I'm the only cook again!
Thank you to Mindy Johnson and Justine for babysitting Tadman. What a relief it is to leave him in the homes of trusted friends who love him!
Thank you to Ted and Jan for the bouquet of spring flowers. That'll lift your mood in a hurry!
Thank you to Greg's mom and step dad for the many, many, many times they have stepped in, sometimes at the last moment, and taken over the management of the kids. Thanks to them my kids have gotten to their appointments and practices, been fed and clothed and washed, and especially and most importantly, watched over. Along they way they've fixed a bike, a cabinet knob, killed ants, folded clothes and loved Tadman so well he'd rather be with them than anyone else.
Thank you for everyone who had called or visited to offer encouragement and support. I've really liked talking to my great family and friends on the phone and have had some better than ever conversations.
Thank you to Connie McMurray for happily stepping in to finish off my end of school year duties as Mrs. Lane's room parent. She's doing it ALL for me, a mere acquaintance of hers. I am sure we are acquaintances no longer but now great friends!
Thank you to Kristina Aceves ( I hope I got the spelling correct!) who filled me in on all the details of cancer treatment and made me believe I could do it!
I also had a fabulous and encouraging talk with my friend Paula Pulley about cancer treatment and the great things it can inspire in kids. I hope my kids will step up and care for each other and get stronger and closer from this experience. I hear it's happened before.
I want to thank Valerie Davis for the card, the book and the lucky bamboo. I need lucky bamboo right now! Val, with the help of Barb Fletcher, is also covering all my Football Booster duties but letting me keep my dignified TREASURER title. They're even gonna let me back in when the season starts. Thank you girls!
Thanks to our friends and partners in business Betsy and Michael Layton. Betsy sent a lovely card and candle and Michael helped Greg with inventory when Greg was at the NCAA basketball games. Who's da' man!!
I appreciate all the guys that work with my husband and help him keep business going in a sluggish economy.
Thank you to my family for hanging in there with me through better or worse as they say, to Hunter for shaving his head, to Rachel being my first chemo companion, to Parker for increasing greatly his hugs and kisses, to Kate for keeping me on my toes and always wanting to do something fun, to Tadman for occassionally cuddling even though breast feeding has been abruptly withdrawn, and to Greg for feeling just the same about me as he felt before I had cancer. Oh, and for paying all my exorbitant medical bills!
Thank you to Joe Gabrielsen and Mike Hyde for coming over at the last minute and giving me a healing blessing before my surgery. That one worked to perfection. I recovered from that surgery in no time.
Thank you to my friends Sarah Nokleby and Melissa McOmber for helping me start this blog so I can spread the word about the joys and pains of cancer treatment and keep everyone well informed--right now you're probably feeling a little too well informed--of my progress.
And thank you to Becky Phillips for taking some BEFORE pictures with me and my family just in case the AFTER is unrecognizable. Plus, I'll be so happy to have some up-to-date family pictures for the blog! YEAH BECKY!
As you can see I have an army of well wishers in my corner, praying constantly for my well being, and that is a GREAT feeling! I sincerely love you all and thank you most humbly for your instincts of goodness and for spreading that goodness in my direction. You are all da' bomb, baby!
Monday, March 23, 2009
Today's to-do list: Kate and Parker to dentist, Rachel's ears re-pierced, chemo infusion, grocery store.
Chemotherapy and Spring Break may not go together as well as you'd think. Instead of arranging play dates and swimming and movies I spent much of the day at MSTI being readied for my first treatment.
I wasn't expecting the hardest part of chemo being the calls from my kids from home needing rides and lunch and parental permission to go to a friends', but 2 or 3 hours is a huge wait for excited kids with no school.
I ended up waiting quite awhile, so I had plenty of time to field the kids' phone calls. Unfortunately I couldn't do much to help them. My wait had a funky effect on the MSTI staff as well. Because of a queuing error, Rachel and I ended up waiting an hour and twenty minutes before they got me started on my lab draws, and everyone was looking for a scapegoat. The nurse was angry with the receptionist, the nurses in the chemo room were angry with the scheduler, and the nurse helping me was angry with the petite power port I'd been fitted with, and mad at my doctor's funky orders that didn't follow "normal" protocol. It was intense for awhile. Where was my happy place?
This story does have a pleasant ending, however. Eventually I did get the chemo, anti-nausea meds, steroids, and anti-anxiety fluids I was promised, everyone got over finger pointing and did their job pleasantly, and Grandma Dee and Ron swooped in to make sure the kids at home got where they wanted and needed to go. I even got a roast beef sandwich and a little cup of strawberry ice cream out of the deal. Score!
The more impressive score has been my reaction to the chemo so far (knock on wood, of course).
I honestly feel pretty much normal so far. I've been grocery shopping, to the YMCA (where I got a hug from my empathetic friend and breast cancer survivor, Kristina) and enjoyed a comforting evening meal made by other empathetic friends.
I also got to spend almost all day with a dear sweet daughter who oozed composure, kindness, and fun throughout. You can't beat that. It wasn't without bumps, so in that way it was just like any old day. I can do this. I aspire to be the comedienne of the chemo room! Not that the competition is that tough . . . Tomorrow on to self-administered Nupigen shots! Hurrah!!
I wasn't expecting the hardest part of chemo being the calls from my kids from home needing rides and lunch and parental permission to go to a friends', but 2 or 3 hours is a huge wait for excited kids with no school.
I ended up waiting quite awhile, so I had plenty of time to field the kids' phone calls. Unfortunately I couldn't do much to help them. My wait had a funky effect on the MSTI staff as well. Because of a queuing error, Rachel and I ended up waiting an hour and twenty minutes before they got me started on my lab draws, and everyone was looking for a scapegoat. The nurse was angry with the receptionist, the nurses in the chemo room were angry with the scheduler, and the nurse helping me was angry with the petite power port I'd been fitted with, and mad at my doctor's funky orders that didn't follow "normal" protocol. It was intense for awhile. Where was my happy place?
This story does have a pleasant ending, however. Eventually I did get the chemo, anti-nausea meds, steroids, and anti-anxiety fluids I was promised, everyone got over finger pointing and did their job pleasantly, and Grandma Dee and Ron swooped in to make sure the kids at home got where they wanted and needed to go. I even got a roast beef sandwich and a little cup of strawberry ice cream out of the deal. Score!
The more impressive score has been my reaction to the chemo so far (knock on wood, of course).
I honestly feel pretty much normal so far. I've been grocery shopping, to the YMCA (where I got a hug from my empathetic friend and breast cancer survivor, Kristina) and enjoyed a comforting evening meal made by other empathetic friends.
I also got to spend almost all day with a dear sweet daughter who oozed composure, kindness, and fun throughout. You can't beat that. It wasn't without bumps, so in that way it was just like any old day. I can do this. I aspire to be the comedienne of the chemo room! Not that the competition is that tough . . . Tomorrow on to self-administered Nupigen shots! Hurrah!!
Born Under A Bad Sign (yup, I'm a Cancer, and I've GOT CANCER!)
Life has been a little bumpy since my husband saw an e-mail about a new form of breast cancer and challenged me to go to the doctor and have a suspicious area on my left breast checked out.
I knew immediately that my doctor was concerned, and had that confirmed when he got me a mammogram appointment the very next day. The mammogram was suspicious enough to merit a needle biopsy the next day, and the pathology report verified all prior suspicions. On Tuesday, March 3 at about 8 a.m. I got the call confirming that I had breast cancer. But I think I'd known for awhile, or at least been prepared to hear the news. I'd been prepared by the pictures on the original e-mail that had an uncanny resemblance to my body, by my doctor's concern, by the mammogram that showed an undeniable lump, and even by the last few book club books that my book club had selected--one about a girl with leukemia, one about Randy Paush's "Last Lecture" before he died of pancreatic cancer, and the last about a man's experiences in the Spirit World while his body was in coma. So I was not surprised to hear the diagnosis, but there was no way for me to be fully prepared to understand all the ways having breast cancer has already changed and will continue to change me and my family.
Once diagnosed, doctors' appointments have become a new part of my daily routine, my already extremely busy daily routine. Since that Tuesday morning just a few weeks ago I have met with surgeons and oncologists, I've had MRI's, ultrasounds, and PETscans, I've had surgery to remove a diseased gall bladder and place a port in my chest through which I will receive chemotherapy. I've discussed alternative treatment plans and taken a chemotherapy preparation class. I've even had my teeth cleaned.
I've had countless calls and cards from family and friends concerned for my well being and the well being of my family. I've had a couple of great intimate lunches with dear friends wanting to encourage me. I've had two priesthood blessings, visited the temple with my mom and sister, prayed a lot, tried my best to explain things to my kids so they'll understand the gravity of the situation and yet also be assured that there is great reason for hope that together we'll all get through this, and I've recognized how blind I have been to the suffering of my fellow human beings while I've been busy with my own life, and know that through this experience I don't think I'll ever be that blind again.
So tomorrow, which in a different year would be memorable only as my kids' first day of Spring Break, I go in for the first of 24 weekly chemotherapy sessions. The sessions last about 2 hours each, and on the 4 days following each session I'll be giving myself shots designed to boost my white blood cell count so my body will be able to fight off infection--and I've got a 2-year-old so I'll need those white blood cells! My seventeen-year-old daughter Rachel will be with me as I begin this journey to unknown places, and I'll be so glad to have her there!
After chemotherapy there will be surgery and radiation to think about, but I'm just gonna focus on taking this thing one day at a time. I'll worry about that stuff as it comes.
I want to thank my Heavenly Father for the tender mercies he's given me to get me through this cancer treatment. He's given me a brother who's been through cancer treatment twice and completely empathizes with my experience, he's given me a gorgeous niece who just happens to be a nurse in surgery at St. Luke's and made sure I was expertly and tenderly taken care of during my gall bladder procedure, he's given ME cancer and spared my husband, who wouldn't have been able to work as hard as he has to if this was his diagnosis, and my children, who I won't have to watch suffer. He's given me kind friends who care, neighbors who care, and acquaintances who have been willing to step in and take responsibilities off my shoulders. He's given me a sister who is beautifying my room, buying my family food, and folding my clothes simultaneously with her family's blessing and assistance. I've received calls and notes and e-mails of love and support from all my great brothers and sisters and from my brothers' wives and from nieces and nephews. Another tender mercy is receiving this treatment just as the weather's warming up so I won't be freezing cold while I go through it! I feel love all around me, and I feel my Savior's love, and that love will certainly sustain me for the next 24 weeks.
Here I go, out to the great wide open. I'll keep you posted.
I knew immediately that my doctor was concerned, and had that confirmed when he got me a mammogram appointment the very next day. The mammogram was suspicious enough to merit a needle biopsy the next day, and the pathology report verified all prior suspicions. On Tuesday, March 3 at about 8 a.m. I got the call confirming that I had breast cancer. But I think I'd known for awhile, or at least been prepared to hear the news. I'd been prepared by the pictures on the original e-mail that had an uncanny resemblance to my body, by my doctor's concern, by the mammogram that showed an undeniable lump, and even by the last few book club books that my book club had selected--one about a girl with leukemia, one about Randy Paush's "Last Lecture" before he died of pancreatic cancer, and the last about a man's experiences in the Spirit World while his body was in coma. So I was not surprised to hear the diagnosis, but there was no way for me to be fully prepared to understand all the ways having breast cancer has already changed and will continue to change me and my family.
Once diagnosed, doctors' appointments have become a new part of my daily routine, my already extremely busy daily routine. Since that Tuesday morning just a few weeks ago I have met with surgeons and oncologists, I've had MRI's, ultrasounds, and PETscans, I've had surgery to remove a diseased gall bladder and place a port in my chest through which I will receive chemotherapy. I've discussed alternative treatment plans and taken a chemotherapy preparation class. I've even had my teeth cleaned.
I've had countless calls and cards from family and friends concerned for my well being and the well being of my family. I've had a couple of great intimate lunches with dear friends wanting to encourage me. I've had two priesthood blessings, visited the temple with my mom and sister, prayed a lot, tried my best to explain things to my kids so they'll understand the gravity of the situation and yet also be assured that there is great reason for hope that together we'll all get through this, and I've recognized how blind I have been to the suffering of my fellow human beings while I've been busy with my own life, and know that through this experience I don't think I'll ever be that blind again.
So tomorrow, which in a different year would be memorable only as my kids' first day of Spring Break, I go in for the first of 24 weekly chemotherapy sessions. The sessions last about 2 hours each, and on the 4 days following each session I'll be giving myself shots designed to boost my white blood cell count so my body will be able to fight off infection--and I've got a 2-year-old so I'll need those white blood cells! My seventeen-year-old daughter Rachel will be with me as I begin this journey to unknown places, and I'll be so glad to have her there!
After chemotherapy there will be surgery and radiation to think about, but I'm just gonna focus on taking this thing one day at a time. I'll worry about that stuff as it comes.
I want to thank my Heavenly Father for the tender mercies he's given me to get me through this cancer treatment. He's given me a brother who's been through cancer treatment twice and completely empathizes with my experience, he's given me a gorgeous niece who just happens to be a nurse in surgery at St. Luke's and made sure I was expertly and tenderly taken care of during my gall bladder procedure, he's given ME cancer and spared my husband, who wouldn't have been able to work as hard as he has to if this was his diagnosis, and my children, who I won't have to watch suffer. He's given me kind friends who care, neighbors who care, and acquaintances who have been willing to step in and take responsibilities off my shoulders. He's given me a sister who is beautifying my room, buying my family food, and folding my clothes simultaneously with her family's blessing and assistance. I've received calls and notes and e-mails of love and support from all my great brothers and sisters and from my brothers' wives and from nieces and nephews. Another tender mercy is receiving this treatment just as the weather's warming up so I won't be freezing cold while I go through it! I feel love all around me, and I feel my Savior's love, and that love will certainly sustain me for the next 24 weeks.
Here I go, out to the great wide open. I'll keep you posted.
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