Well I'm a week and a half into radiation now and so far I can't complain too much. Last week I was feeling a lot sicker but this week the nausea is down and I feel like that counts for a lot. Even if the discomfort level rises (which it has - it's weird to feel like you have a sunburn on your insides), I'd rather take that and walking around all crouched over like I'm 80 than constantly feeling like I want to throw up. So I'll take it!
I got to ease up on my chemo pills a bit too. Now I take two twice a day instead of three twice a day. Maybe that's helping with the nausea level. I AM starting to develop "hand foot syndrome" which, from what I hear, basically means the palms of my hands and soles of my feet will turn red and get all grossly dry and possibly crack and it's painful. Even to the point where it might make walking difficult. Luckily right now I don't have a lot of pain in my hands or feet. They're just red mostly. But I can't wait for the day I'm too sick to walk and I make my friends give me piggy-back rides everywhere. I'm sure Bonnie is stronger than she looks. Plus I'm losing weight anyway so I'm doing my part to make it easier on her.
What else can I say about cancer? I got a vitamix! Or I should say all my friends who are AMAZING got me a Vitamix. I love it. I feel like I just need to find the Jamba Juice recipes online and I could totally make them in that thing. Last night I made a protein powder type of orange julius. It was actually pretty good. I'll be making soups and various dips in the near future. The Superbowl is coming up and that seems like the perfect time to break out the power of the Vitamix.
Really everyone has been SO GREAT about getting me things to help ease the discomfort and general suckiness of cancer. And I have put everything to good use! People are so good at knowing what things will help you. I'm constantly amazed. And can't tell you all how grateful I am. Thank you. Everybody.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Essiac Tea
In addition to the fun that is chemo and radiation, Bonnie thought it would be good to add Essiac Tea. It looks like sludge and tastes like it too. And if I drink it three times a day it's supposed to help me be cancer free. And who am I to turn down cancer helping tea at a time like this?
But of course if I have to drink it so does Bonnie. I took a video of our first drinking experience but I'm blogger illiterate so I don't know how to make it work here. That's probably going to require an in-person consultation Britt. So be prepared.
In the meantime I can provide these little photos.
Since this first go I've had the "tea" a few more times. It doesn't ever get better. But hopefully I will!
As a side note today I started radiation. The actual getting radiated part was fine - slightly uncomfortable to be laying on your stomach with the hole in the platform for your insides to spill into - but overall fine. It seems like between that and the chemo my tumor has become angry today and feels more irritated but that might all be in my head. Either way tomorrow I get to do it all again!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Free Week
This week I have the luxury of not taking my chemo pills AND not having to do radiation. While I am, in a roundabout way, looking forward to both since the sooner I get them over with the sooner I shrink this sucker, mostly right now I am enjoying my last week until March of freedom from chemicals and radiation beams! This is day two of not taking the chemo and I don't know if I feel that different yet. I suppose I feel less queasy though food still doesn't sound especially appetizing, and maybe a little less tired? I don't know. I expect I'll start definitely feeling better by Monday which will be my last day before chemo and radiation start up again. Blast.
My last couple of doctors' appointments were great - at one they took out most of the stitches from my surgery (didn't get them all but I think that's because some of them were still pretty gross and they didn't want to hurt me or open any wounds), and at the other I found out about the week off from chemo AND I found out that I MIGHT not have to also have the IV chemo (on top of the chemo pills and radiation) before my surgery! That was happy news. If the current chemo and the radiation will do all the shrinking necessary and we can avoid additional chemicals that sounds good to me!
Today I go in for my verification simulation where they make sure that they tattooed me right and I line up with all the lasers. Hopefully everything will go smoothly. I don't know what happens if it doesn't; maybe I get more tattoos? I think it's safe to venture that they're pretty good at what they do though so I bet they keep their tattooing of the same person to a minimum. Still you never know.
This weekend is the big powder puff football tournament. Unfortunately since my surgery incisions are still healing I won't be able to play. >:C I think Glendale probably pushed the tournament back to January (what happened to early December again?!) just to keep me out. It's a big conspiracy. Probably. I did go to my team's practice last night and I got to play a little; nothing too crazy. Basically all I did was snap the ball for the quarterback(s) but it was actually enough to make me tired. Guess I'm out of shape. Because that's sad. And yah, it also made me work up a sweat. But I blame that on the Polynesian in me. Not necessarily on the chemo in me. Luckily I don't think my team needs me to win or anything - I just WANT to play. Oh well, next time next time.
Also, at some point I'll put pictures up. But before that happens I'll need to TAKE some pictures. So first things first and, thanks to Britt, I should be able to eventually post something visually interesting. Wait for it....
My last couple of doctors' appointments were great - at one they took out most of the stitches from my surgery (didn't get them all but I think that's because some of them were still pretty gross and they didn't want to hurt me or open any wounds), and at the other I found out about the week off from chemo AND I found out that I MIGHT not have to also have the IV chemo (on top of the chemo pills and radiation) before my surgery! That was happy news. If the current chemo and the radiation will do all the shrinking necessary and we can avoid additional chemicals that sounds good to me!
Today I go in for my verification simulation where they make sure that they tattooed me right and I line up with all the lasers. Hopefully everything will go smoothly. I don't know what happens if it doesn't; maybe I get more tattoos? I think it's safe to venture that they're pretty good at what they do though so I bet they keep their tattooing of the same person to a minimum. Still you never know.
This weekend is the big powder puff football tournament. Unfortunately since my surgery incisions are still healing I won't be able to play. >:C I think Glendale probably pushed the tournament back to January (what happened to early December again?!) just to keep me out. It's a big conspiracy. Probably. I did go to my team's practice last night and I got to play a little; nothing too crazy. Basically all I did was snap the ball for the quarterback(s) but it was actually enough to make me tired. Guess I'm out of shape. Because that's sad. And yah, it also made me work up a sweat. But I blame that on the Polynesian in me. Not necessarily on the chemo in me. Luckily I don't think my team needs me to win or anything - I just WANT to play. Oh well, next time next time.
Also, at some point I'll put pictures up. But before that happens I'll need to TAKE some pictures. So first things first and, thanks to Britt, I should be able to eventually post something visually interesting. Wait for it....
Friday, January 7, 2011
Scanned
Yesterday I was finally able to get my PET/CT scan(s) to get me all set up for my radiation treatments. While I'm not really excited about getting radiated, I AM looking forward to destroying the tumor as soon as possible. So I was happy to finally get this thing scheduled!
Prep for the scans wasn't too bad. I just had to fast for 6hrs beforehand. Normally that would be an unwelcome directive (being told not to eat just makes me hungrier), but in my present state being told not to eat all morning is more like "eh, alright, glad to have an excuse for skipping meals." The downside is, despite my lack of appetite, I still feel worse when I don't eat - must be low blood sugar or something. So I knew I'd feel a bit worse than usual but at least we weren't doing any enema or magnesium citrate prep. I was happy.
So I had my first appointment with the radiology lab where they fashioned me a little padded table to lie down on and made it specific for my body so that every day when I come in they can just stick me on "my" table and line me up for the radiation. Since my tumor is positioned right around my butt I wondered how they were going to get to it. Turns out, I lie face down and they come at me from the sides and the back. This would all be fine and good but the little table I lie on has a part cut out for my stomach so that when I lie down all my insides can kind of fall forward into the hole and maybe avoid getting zapped a bit. Sounds like a good idea to me - the fewer healthy organs getting radiated the better - but it's not the most comfortable position in the world. So I don't think I'll ever be falling asleep during treatments or anything. Ah well.
After the radiology lab I was sent upstairs to my next appointment in the nuclear medicine department. Here they made me drink the disgusting contrast stuff which I was only able to partially do. I don't know what it is about that stuff but I really can't stomach it. I tried and about halfway through it I was pausing a lot because my gag reflex was becoming increasingly strong and I was SERIOUSLY concerned about puking up the whole lot of stuff (maybe it's that you're drinking it on an empty stomach?) so the tech lady (Amanda) told me "it's okay - if you're going to throw it up I'll have you stop drinking for now because throwing it up would defeat the whole purpose." Even now, thinking about it makes me shudder. That stuff is thick and horrid. I managed to get through half of it. Hopefully that was enough to highlight my digestive tract. And I now have a healthy fear of CT scans that require me to drink that stuff. I really don't know if I can do it again. Eek.
So then I sat in a chair to let the thick stuff I drank work its way through my system a bit and they also went ahead and injected me (through the IV they had put in during my earlier appointment) with radioactive glucose and asked if I had any small children. I said no, why? And they said "because you're going to be radioactive so we recommend you keep your distance from small children." I asked if I should not let my little dog lick me then and they just said "uhhhmmm, well we're really just concerned about small children." No love for the small dogs.
After the 45 minutes in the chair to think about the nasty stuff I had drunk they made me down one more cup, change into a lovely gown, and head into the second scanner. There I did the CT scan, then they did the CT with me on my specially put together pads with the belly hole, then they flipped me back over again and did the PET scan with me lying on my back (much more comfy). All in all the sitting and scanning took about two hours. Oh, and I almost forgot - I came out of it with my first tattoos. Yep, part of the radiation lining up they'll do every day involves them tattooing you so they know where to aim their beams. So I now have three tiny dot tattoos - one on each hip and one on my lower back. Like a tramp stamp. Only I think even lower than those. So it's a serious tramp stamp. Right now they're surrounded by pen markings in what looks like the cross-hairs of a scope so they're easy to find. But once the pen has washed off I don't know that anyone will be able to find the tattoos and exclaim "I didn't know you had a tattoo!" ....Unless, of course, I make them more elaborate. Or connect them all by tattooing a braided belt low on my hips. Oh the possibilities.
Prep for the scans wasn't too bad. I just had to fast for 6hrs beforehand. Normally that would be an unwelcome directive (being told not to eat just makes me hungrier), but in my present state being told not to eat all morning is more like "eh, alright, glad to have an excuse for skipping meals." The downside is, despite my lack of appetite, I still feel worse when I don't eat - must be low blood sugar or something. So I knew I'd feel a bit worse than usual but at least we weren't doing any enema or magnesium citrate prep. I was happy.
So I had my first appointment with the radiology lab where they fashioned me a little padded table to lie down on and made it specific for my body so that every day when I come in they can just stick me on "my" table and line me up for the radiation. Since my tumor is positioned right around my butt I wondered how they were going to get to it. Turns out, I lie face down and they come at me from the sides and the back. This would all be fine and good but the little table I lie on has a part cut out for my stomach so that when I lie down all my insides can kind of fall forward into the hole and maybe avoid getting zapped a bit. Sounds like a good idea to me - the fewer healthy organs getting radiated the better - but it's not the most comfortable position in the world. So I don't think I'll ever be falling asleep during treatments or anything. Ah well.
After the radiology lab I was sent upstairs to my next appointment in the nuclear medicine department. Here they made me drink the disgusting contrast stuff which I was only able to partially do. I don't know what it is about that stuff but I really can't stomach it. I tried and about halfway through it I was pausing a lot because my gag reflex was becoming increasingly strong and I was SERIOUSLY concerned about puking up the whole lot of stuff (maybe it's that you're drinking it on an empty stomach?) so the tech lady (Amanda) told me "it's okay - if you're going to throw it up I'll have you stop drinking for now because throwing it up would defeat the whole purpose." Even now, thinking about it makes me shudder. That stuff is thick and horrid. I managed to get through half of it. Hopefully that was enough to highlight my digestive tract. And I now have a healthy fear of CT scans that require me to drink that stuff. I really don't know if I can do it again. Eek.
So then I sat in a chair to let the thick stuff I drank work its way through my system a bit and they also went ahead and injected me (through the IV they had put in during my earlier appointment) with radioactive glucose and asked if I had any small children. I said no, why? And they said "because you're going to be radioactive so we recommend you keep your distance from small children." I asked if I should not let my little dog lick me then and they just said "uhhhmmm, well we're really just concerned about small children." No love for the small dogs.
After the 45 minutes in the chair to think about the nasty stuff I had drunk they made me down one more cup, change into a lovely gown, and head into the second scanner. There I did the CT scan, then they did the CT with me on my specially put together pads with the belly hole, then they flipped me back over again and did the PET scan with me lying on my back (much more comfy). All in all the sitting and scanning took about two hours. Oh, and I almost forgot - I came out of it with my first tattoos. Yep, part of the radiation lining up they'll do every day involves them tattooing you so they know where to aim their beams. So I now have three tiny dot tattoos - one on each hip and one on my lower back. Like a tramp stamp. Only I think even lower than those. So it's a serious tramp stamp. Right now they're surrounded by pen markings in what looks like the cross-hairs of a scope so they're easy to find. But once the pen has washed off I don't know that anyone will be able to find the tattoos and exclaim "I didn't know you had a tattoo!" ....Unless, of course, I make them more elaborate. Or connect them all by tattooing a braided belt low on my hips. Oh the possibilities.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
>:c
Alright so it's been awhile since I blogged. But I'm still doing better at keeping this up than some of you out there (Erin, Lyndsey, Tia - I'm looking at you).
A lot has happened since I got called out at Wendy's (see last post). Most of you know this already but I figured I might as well do my own little catch-up of things so far (plus Brittney reminded me that a blog is an easy way to keep people updated on how I'm doing). So I have cancer. BOO. It's stage 3 colon cancer - most specifically, rectal cancer. Serious bummer. All of my doctors (there are ten of them - I collect them like one would shot glasses or keychains) are stymied as to why I would be lucky enough to have this. I'm not over 60, I don't have a family history of colon cancer, I don't have any of the genetic markers, I'm not a big drinker, I don't have HPV, I've never had colitis or Crohn's and I'm not excessively overweight (though I was maybe on my way there with my frequent Wendy's visits). Nevertheless the tumor is there (I've seen it. Thank you sigmoidoscopy.) and we are where we are.
Since my diagnosis I've been juggling doctors appointments, I've had a surgery to make sure I didn't have ovarian cancer (suspicious cyst showed up on the CT scan) and to move my ovaries out of the upcoming radiation beams, and I've started chemo. It's been fun!
A few things I've discovered in the past month or two, after a lifetime of relative good health in which I had never had stitches, never broken any bones that needed a cast and never spent the night in a hospital. First, turns out my voice changes after surgery. It's a temporary thing (i.e. I believe it's back to normal now), but for the few days I was in the hospital and newly home my voice was about an octave higher (good thing I have a low voice?) and really weak. Maybe it was all the CO2 they pumped into me during the surgery. Maybe it has a similar effect to swallowing helium. I don't know. But it was weird.
Second, ordering hospital food off the menu is kind of fun - like room service. And the food isn't too bad. But when you have no appetite it doesn't really matter WHAT they offer you, you're mostly going to just pick at it and think about how you used to love food.
Third, and this probably should've been first, preparing for surgery sucks. Well, I should be more specific: preparing for laproscopic surgery to remove ovarian cysts and relocate your ovaries and preparing for an endoscopic ultrasound of your rectum both suck. Why? Because they both require you to clean out your colon ahead of time. I think people who have had colonoscopies (sp?) know what I'm talking about.
Now both times I had to clean out I had the misfortune of having doctors' appointments scheduled about the time the cleaning should be done. So for the first surgery I was supposed to drink two bottles of magnesium citrate at 3pm the day before my surgery. That stuff was supposed to take effect approximately 1-3 hours after I drank it. But I had an appointment with my oncologist at 4pm. Right about the time I might need to be hightailing it to the bathroom. I was nervous about what might happen so, naturally, I bought myself the store brand version of Depends. And I waited until about 4pm before I drank the magnesium (so much for following doctor's orders EXACTLY). Not having worn a diaper in something like 28 years, it was an odd experience but surprisingly comfortable. Except for the part where the doctor had to examine and push on my stomach when I'm pretty sure he noticed that my "underwear" was rather...Pamper-ish. But he didn't say anything and neither did I. Anyway that night I didn't really need the diaper but I was glad to have it on hand just in case.
The second time I had to clean out my colon they had me take two enemas beforehand. And each enema says on the box "should be effective in 1-3 minutes" and that you should never hold the enema in for longer than 10 minutes. That made me nervous because my doctor's instructions specifically said to not expel the enema until at LEAST 15 minutes had passed. Fearing this was going to be a tough feat, I again prepared myself with a diaper. And then I put on a meditation tape (yes, cassette tape), did the enema thing, and tried not to count the minutes. I think the meditation tape helped but at 13 minutes I was in trouble. It was no longer a matter of mental toughness, this enema fluid stuff refused to be kept back. That time it was a really good thing I was wearing the diaper. And it was also a good thing the bathroom was six feet away from me. I was supposed to repeat the procedure with the second enema but I didn't even last 6 minutes that time. I dare anyone to try and keep an enema in for 15 minutes. If you can do it I will buy you a value meal at Wendy's.
Anyway I'm just glad that part is over. Now it's on to chemo and radiation! So far the chemo hasn't been too bad. I just hope that continues to last for the next month or so. Fingers crossed.
I feel this post has gotten too long. So I'm cutting it here. But next time I'll have to tell you all the perks of cancer. Namely how all your friends and family bind together to take care of you and give you everything they can think of to make you comfortable and how AWESOME that is.
Oh, and the >:c is the new colon cancer symbol! Created by Emily, it is the new angry/sad face of cancer (move over breast cancer). Plus it has the dual meaning of > = person with cancer is greater than, : = colon (clever), c = c for cancer. Ta-da!
A lot has happened since I got called out at Wendy's (see last post). Most of you know this already but I figured I might as well do my own little catch-up of things so far (plus Brittney reminded me that a blog is an easy way to keep people updated on how I'm doing). So I have cancer. BOO. It's stage 3 colon cancer - most specifically, rectal cancer. Serious bummer. All of my doctors (there are ten of them - I collect them like one would shot glasses or keychains) are stymied as to why I would be lucky enough to have this. I'm not over 60, I don't have a family history of colon cancer, I don't have any of the genetic markers, I'm not a big drinker, I don't have HPV, I've never had colitis or Crohn's and I'm not excessively overweight (though I was maybe on my way there with my frequent Wendy's visits). Nevertheless the tumor is there (I've seen it. Thank you sigmoidoscopy.) and we are where we are.
Since my diagnosis I've been juggling doctors appointments, I've had a surgery to make sure I didn't have ovarian cancer (suspicious cyst showed up on the CT scan) and to move my ovaries out of the upcoming radiation beams, and I've started chemo. It's been fun!
A few things I've discovered in the past month or two, after a lifetime of relative good health in which I had never had stitches, never broken any bones that needed a cast and never spent the night in a hospital. First, turns out my voice changes after surgery. It's a temporary thing (i.e. I believe it's back to normal now), but for the few days I was in the hospital and newly home my voice was about an octave higher (good thing I have a low voice?) and really weak. Maybe it was all the CO2 they pumped into me during the surgery. Maybe it has a similar effect to swallowing helium. I don't know. But it was weird.
Second, ordering hospital food off the menu is kind of fun - like room service. And the food isn't too bad. But when you have no appetite it doesn't really matter WHAT they offer you, you're mostly going to just pick at it and think about how you used to love food.
Third, and this probably should've been first, preparing for surgery sucks. Well, I should be more specific: preparing for laproscopic surgery to remove ovarian cysts and relocate your ovaries and preparing for an endoscopic ultrasound of your rectum both suck. Why? Because they both require you to clean out your colon ahead of time. I think people who have had colonoscopies (sp?) know what I'm talking about.
Now both times I had to clean out I had the misfortune of having doctors' appointments scheduled about the time the cleaning should be done. So for the first surgery I was supposed to drink two bottles of magnesium citrate at 3pm the day before my surgery. That stuff was supposed to take effect approximately 1-3 hours after I drank it. But I had an appointment with my oncologist at 4pm. Right about the time I might need to be hightailing it to the bathroom. I was nervous about what might happen so, naturally, I bought myself the store brand version of Depends. And I waited until about 4pm before I drank the magnesium (so much for following doctor's orders EXACTLY). Not having worn a diaper in something like 28 years, it was an odd experience but surprisingly comfortable. Except for the part where the doctor had to examine and push on my stomach when I'm pretty sure he noticed that my "underwear" was rather...Pamper-ish. But he didn't say anything and neither did I. Anyway that night I didn't really need the diaper but I was glad to have it on hand just in case.
The second time I had to clean out my colon they had me take two enemas beforehand. And each enema says on the box "should be effective in 1-3 minutes" and that you should never hold the enema in for longer than 10 minutes. That made me nervous because my doctor's instructions specifically said to not expel the enema until at LEAST 15 minutes had passed. Fearing this was going to be a tough feat, I again prepared myself with a diaper. And then I put on a meditation tape (yes, cassette tape), did the enema thing, and tried not to count the minutes. I think the meditation tape helped but at 13 minutes I was in trouble. It was no longer a matter of mental toughness, this enema fluid stuff refused to be kept back. That time it was a really good thing I was wearing the diaper. And it was also a good thing the bathroom was six feet away from me. I was supposed to repeat the procedure with the second enema but I didn't even last 6 minutes that time. I dare anyone to try and keep an enema in for 15 minutes. If you can do it I will buy you a value meal at Wendy's.
Anyway I'm just glad that part is over. Now it's on to chemo and radiation! So far the chemo hasn't been too bad. I just hope that continues to last for the next month or so. Fingers crossed.
I feel this post has gotten too long. So I'm cutting it here. But next time I'll have to tell you all the perks of cancer. Namely how all your friends and family bind together to take care of you and give you everything they can think of to make you comfortable and how AWESOME that is.
Oh, and the >:c is the new colon cancer symbol! Created by Emily, it is the new angry/sad face of cancer (move over breast cancer). Plus it has the dual meaning of > = person with cancer is greater than, : = colon (clever), c = c for cancer. Ta-da!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Wendy's Deluxe Value Meals
The other week I was driving home and thought I'd stop by Wendy's. That tends to happen more often than it should but on this particular occasion I had the distinct thought "hey it's been awhile."
As I pulled up to the drive-thru window to hand the worker my card and retrieve my delicious food she said "you come here a lot, don't you."
Yikes. Awk-ward. And just when I thought I was safe. Needless to say I haven't been back since. Except once. And yes, that same girl was working then as well. And yes, she gave me a knowing smile when she saw me again. And no, I won't be going there anymore. At least, not until I think enough time has passed to get to the point where she's either been promoted to assistant manager (or assistant to the manager) or has quit. Just something to get her out of the drive-thru window.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Car Show
On the way home from helping with our hands in a park (I took no pictures of that event) painting and gardening, we decided to stop by the car show that was so fortuitously happening a few blocks away.
We didn't dress up as we ought, though we did decide to ditch our bright yellow shirts, but luckily the car show takes all types.
A purple car? Just the first of many. (Purple cars)
It's a nice car, but I'm still going to look around to see if I can upgrade to a better one.
Hello Don Antonio car! If only you had come full of free tacos.
She knew a car would call to her, and call it did. Baaaa
Also calling to her: 60+ year old men who want to take their pictures with her on their motorcycles. If you're wondering what she's got her feet in they are stirrups. There's a stethoscope on the back of the bike too. Yep, Bon definitely scored today. If things don't work out with the teaching gig nbd because this guy will take care of her forever. Or at least for 5-10 more years.
Sometimes Saturdays are even better than you expect.
We didn't dress up as we ought, though we did decide to ditch our bright yellow shirts, but luckily the car show takes all types.
A purple car? Just the first of many. (Purple cars)
It's a nice car, but I'm still going to look around to see if I can upgrade to a better one. 
Hello Don Antonio car! If only you had come full of free tacos.
She knew a car would call to her, and call it did. Baaaa
Also calling to her: 60+ year old men who want to take their pictures with her on their motorcycles. If you're wondering what she's got her feet in they are stirrups. There's a stethoscope on the back of the bike too. Yep, Bon definitely scored today. If things don't work out with the teaching gig nbd because this guy will take care of her forever. Or at least for 5-10 more years.
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