like bulbs on stems, our faces follow the sun

It's been a good day.

I have a hard time getting to sleep anymore, because I have energy again. That's not to say that I have stamina... I went swimsuit shopping today (I hope to be on a California beach by mid-summer, after all) and found one at the first store I went to. (As a woman, this is an amazing accomplishment!) However, my body feels like I've run a marathon, just after lifting my arms up so many times. My body is absolutely worn out. From maybe one hour of shopping. My mind, however, is buzzing. I went by PT's to practice latte art for a throw down that's going on tomorrow, and I didn't have the arm strength to pour straight. It's definitely cumulatively getting worse.

Anymore, I'm not depressed by it particularly. I'm almost done now. My strength will come back. Slowly but surely, I know I'll be healthy again. And god, I'm looking forward to it.

New Speedway Boogie

"...one way or another, this darkness got to give..."

...and in this case by darkness, I mean nausea. It's been non-stop since I had chemo on Friday, and the pills that used to work don't even seem to touch it. I try not to use the pills if I can help it, due to the side effects- but even when I do break down, they just aren't cutting it. And on top of the constant debilitating nausea, I can't taste anything. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't know. I just want to have the strength and health to get off of the couch and get my life back.

BLEEEEHHH.

**editors note: It has occured to me that I should just shut up and remember that it could always be worse. I am a very very lucky girl.**

Treatment #10

I had treatment today, along with a chest x-ray and office visit. The chest x-ray showed no sign of disease, which is a wonderful, wonderful development. I still have my PET scan in early April to tell me if I'm truly free of active cancer, but just knowing that nothing has been coming back (that the chemo is still working incredibly well) and that things look amazing compared to 6 months ago gives me so much hope.

God, I feel like I'm almost there. TWO MORE TREATMENTS.

At the moment, I'm incredibly nauseated and fatigued, but I'm just sipping water and trying to keep my mind off of it. I'm so incredibly ready to be done. I don't ever want to go through this again. I'm not complaining, I swear. I know that this is all part of the process. I know that I'll be healthy again. I just want to get busy living and never look back. That isn't to say I won't be thinking about this every day- every single day I wake up, I'll understand how lucky I am for this extra time. I want this to push me to be better, to not worry about failure so much and to live a healthier life full of love and happiness and nothing else, because life is short and nothing else matters.

...chemobrain has me rambling.

I guess I just feel that I need to use this experience as a catalyst to live a better life. I think any experience that makes you examine your own mortality can truly change you. You just have to let it be a positive change. No dwelling on things, no unnecessary worrying, no holding back.

Two more to go.

I'm back!

I'm feeling pretty positive today, despite my cold coming back full force. Or maybe it's a sinus infection, because the cold never left... I have no idea. Either way, feeling positive.

I met the barista champion of Canada yesterday, and he told me about his having battled cancer three times. The first two times he went with traditional western medicine, and the last time he went herbal. He's been cancer free for 7 years now.

It was very enlightening to finally meet someone who had been through traditional cancer treatment AND holistic treatment. There are all sorts of people out there who have never had cancer and have no idea what they're talking about telling me how I can cure myself with aloe or hemp oil or coffee enemas, telling me I'm poisoning myself with chemo (DUH.) a despite the fact that the chemo is working. But to actually MEET someone who had tried both approaches and knew what I was going through, gave me so much positivity and hope. He was also very open minded too, telling me to do whatever worked, but to get a hold of him with any questions about the holistic approach. I might just take him up on that.

In other news, the battle with fatigue continues, but I've managed to work a few days this last week, with extensive periods of laying down in between.

I finally feel like there's an end to this battle. In the beginning, when the will to fight was still fresh, it was easier to plow through the treatments. The last few months have been harder. The initial urge to fight fight fight had faded and the light at the end of the tunnel was barely a twinkle. But now, three treatments left, I feel like I'm almost there.

And when I get there, I will have an ice-cold pale ale to celebrate.



Blood test on Monday, Chest x-ray, office visit to check on progress and chemo #10 on Friday. Lets do this.

3/11/10

I don't want to think about it anymore.

I want to shut my mind off and sleep for the next 4 months.

3/10/10

I got a call from St. Francis on Monday evening warning me that my white blood cell count is very low and to come in next Monday for blood work to keep an eye on it. That might explain how completely exhausted I've been. When I first began treatment, a friend of mine (whose mother had been undergoing chemo and rads) told me that the fatigue gets worse and worse throughout treatment. I didn't understand at the time, being so early in the process, how right she was.



I. Am. Tired.



Which is bearable some of the time, because all I seem to do these days (when I'm not working) is read. But dammit, there was a time when I used to go DO things. I guess I just need to quit getting stuck in what was and deal with what is.



Anyhoo. It's looking like I'm going to have to go through with this whole radiation thing. That's on my mind a lot lately, despite my not even being done with chemo yet. On one side of the radiation issue, the "pro", is that I have a greater possibility of remission (pretty much 100% with Hodgkin's Lymphoma) if I go ahead with rads. The "con" side is the long term possibility of hypothyroidism. (They would be radiating my neck and upper chest, therefor exposing my thyroid to radiation.) I like my thyroid. I've been doing a bit of research, and it turns out the thyroid is freaking important. (I know, duh.) It effects everything, most of all your metabolism, energy and memory. I don't want my thyroid to shut down. Poor little thyroid.



But on the other hand, I never want to go through this again. I don't know what I'd do if I relapsed.



My thoughts are running morbid today. I'm hopeful, but scared.



I just want to feel good again.

Sunshine

It's days like this that I almost forget that I'm sick.

I rush out the door without a look in the mirror, and I forget for a while about my mostly-missing eyebrows and my buzzed head, my scars and the port sticking out of my chest. I go to work, and I have my energy and positivity and my smile back. I forget about all of the scans and the bloodwork and words like "relapse" and "remission." I feel human again.

There have been days in this last month where I've given in to negativity and self-pity. I let myself dwell too much in what-ifs and should-I-haves. But right now, today, I feel like I can do this. I feel like I'm back.

Maybe it's the sun. Maybe my white blood cells are finally back up after this last treatment. Who knows. All I know is, I welcome it.

I have some routine labwork tomorrow morning, and then no treatment until March 19th. I'm not sure why they're taking an extra week between the last treatment and the next, but I figure I could use an extra week to play outside and attempt to be social before the next round of "lay in bed crippled by nausea and talk to the cat" for 4 days. On a positive note, only three more treatments left! Whoo hoo!

So, yeah. Despite the fact that I don't actually have enough energy or stamina to go play outside today, despite the swollen knees and mild peripheral neuropathy, I am in good spirits. Great spirits.

To wrap things up: in understanding how quickly life can be taken away, I've come to appreciate every moment more. Life is beautiful today. I'm one lucky girl to have gotten a bit more time to enjoy it.

Here we go...

God help me, I've become a blogger.

That's right, world. Despite my maddeningly uninteresting life, I know there are those of you out there who wonder once and a while how I'm doing. Often, my Facebook statuses make no sense (unless you have the Grateful Dead's catalogue memorized) and more often then not, I only leave my house for coffee or (rarely, these days) live music.

So here it is. I'm starting this for those kind and inquisitive people who care about me and want to know how this whole "cancer treatment" thing is going.

You're all lovely, by the way.

I promise I'll write more tomorrow.