One of Those People

I’ve been having a bit of a rough time lately.  I was on a chemo regiment that made me feel normal.  I was back to my cheery self and had energy and a desire to actually go out and do stuff, but then I noticed that things weren’t feeling right and that most likely this treatment was failing me.  Unfortunately, I was right.  This meant on to treatment plan number 7.  This new chemo has been pretty rough on me.  The first two weeks I was on it, I was in some serious pain.  My entire body hurt and nothing was helping, then my heart started racing and I ended up in the ER.  The second two weeks of this chemo depleted my immune system.  I had a fever and vomiting and felt awful.  I was hospitalized for five days and on day five, my hair started to come out in clumps.  It was not fun.

Number 7

For two weeks now, since I started this new treatment, I've been in pain. It's like menstrual cramps all over my body. It rarely lets up. I'm crabby and sleepless. I'm mourning for my last chemo which I felt great on. I'm not even sure this one is working. 

I'm taking double laxatives everyday (this one causes constipation) plus aleve. I'm crying regularly from pain and frustration. 

I'm sick of this daily battle. I'm sick of being a warrior. I want a cure. I want a future. I want to live. 

I want a damn glass of sangria. 

Stranger in my own body.

I wash myself and get out of the shower and there it is in the mirror, another person. I move to try to see myself around her but she ducks when I do, swerves when I do. Who is this person? This can't be me. I have long blond hair, no freckles, I have cheekbones and muscles and nice nails, no swollen arm. But this person in the mirror doesn't look like that. It is me though. 

The changes started when my treatment started in 2012. That seems like so long ago but it's not really. This changing has been a slow process. It creeps up on you until you suddenly realize you are leaving the medicine cabinet open when you brush your teeth so you don't have to look at yourself. 

I Wanna Run

I wanna run. Not like a marathon or even a 5k. I wanna run through the rain, I wanna run around the backyard with my dog, I wanna run up the steps at my office.

Mission

Sometimes things just hit you.  Right. Smack. In. The. Face.  You just think about life and mortality and all the things that go with it.  I’ve been thinking about it more than usual lately because my birthday is coming up.  I think about how long I’ve been on this journey, how long I’ve had cancer, how long the statistics said I had left to live.  I never wanted to read those statistics but it is hard to read about triple negative breast cancer and never come across one.  They piss me off.  There should be a spoiler alert before they blurt out that shit.  Besides I’ve already broken through their shoddy math.  I plan on continuing to do that.  I plan on living.  I am living.  Every day I get up and I think, “I am going to live.”  I rarely think about dying, that’s for old people and I’m not even 34.  It’s barely a question in my mind anymore – living or dying.  I’ve been feeling really good lately and I’ve learned something about myself – my will to live is strong.  I’ve already defied the odds.  I have great doctors and I just feel like one day they will tell me they’ve got something new for me and it will do the trick.  It will kill this beast inside of me and I will win.

Dear Cancer

I know it’s been a while since I posted.  I haven’t abandoned my blog but I’ve been having some weird moods lately and not all of them have been good. I didn’t really want to post crap or moody rants.

Anyway, today I decided to write a letter to cancer.

A Random Thought Train

My heart is beating out of my chest and I can't calm myself. I've been reading again and I read about a clinical trial for stage four triple negative breast cancer that's recruiting. It's immunotherapy and they inject you with a virus. It sounds hopeful and scary and I'm freaking out. I need to call them, get more information. Do I qualify? Can I get the treatment here or will I have to go to their hospital in Florida? Should I even try this?  These decisions are so incredibly difficult when you are facing life or death.

I read more articles. One describes all these great improvements, finishing with how they've lengthened life expectancy from two to three years. WHAT? WTF. NO! Just no. Three years is unacceptable. How can they say that's great? Do you know how fast three years goes by? I can't help but go there. Think about it. I try not to. Not me. Three years is half gone and it's not enough time and no. Just no. Not me. I have many more years left in me. I've promised myself I won't cry today but the tears find my eyes and I fight them back as best I can. I may be tired of chemo but I'm not giving up. I'm still fighting. I will continue to fight. I'm still contributing to my 401k, I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon.

Never puke in a paper bag and other cancer words of wisdom

1. Never puke in a paper bag. Unless, of course, it is an emergency.  I will admit I had one such emergency as I was driving home from work one day.  I felt fine one second and the next second, well, not so much.  All I had in the car was a paper bag, thankfully it was padded with some tissues I had thrown in there earlier.  The bag barely made it home to the garbage can.  I now keep a puke (plastic) bag in my car.

Hair Again, Gone Tomorrow

Sunday, January 19, 2014

I’m good. No really, I’m good.

Today someone asked me how I’m doing.  It doesn’t sound that odd.  I’m sure someone asked you the same thing today and it wasn’t a big deal.  But, when someone asks me how I’m doing it could get a little awkward.  If I answer “good” I will get one of three responses.