All about the animals

 Well... I still have one drain in and we are going on one month now since surgery. I am almost afraid to have it removed, as the areas where the other two drains were located are slowly refilling with fluid. But I am getting used to having this thing attached to me. It hurts sometimes, but mostly I notice it when dealing with my pets.

Michele and I have a number of pets- all rescues. First there is Sam, our oldest cat. She is 19 years old. Sam is my baby. When I am home, she is glued to my lap the second I sit down. Ever since my diagnosis, Sam and I have clocked some serious sitting and cuddling time. She has learned to avoid the tubes every since the first time she got her foot stuck, stretched and found herself catapulted out of my lap as I screamed and jumped around the table in pain.

Next in age is Cleopatra, my 12 yr old chow mix. She is too short to reach any of my sore parts, but creates issues for me because she has become incontinent. Last thing a sick person needs is to be constantly mopping up dog pee, but she can't help it. I did learn from this daily mopping exactly how much you really use your chest muscles when you mop.

Then there is Psycho Kitty, AKA Picasso, at age 7. The name says a great deal. We see her only when she wants to be fed, and sometimes when she has her crazy on and is running down the hall chasing aliens. Nothing in her life has changed. I honestly don't think she even realizes that humans are not just some figment of her little psychotic brain, because the looks she gives us are the same look she has when she is chasing those invisible aliens.

Makuna rounds out the indoor kitty collection at age 3. She is a Maine Coon and lucky for us, she is small for her breed. At over three feet in length from nose to tail tip, Mac has had to earn that I am no longer able to let her use me for a jungle gym. She can't knead at my chest, walk on my shoulders, or sleep on me in bed. Weighing in at over 10lbs, I can't lift her with my right arm, so her cuddle time is limited. Poor neglected baby.

Boston

Buddy

Then come my boys, Boston and Buddy (3 and 2 yrs old). They have been the funniest part of my illness. They were protective to begin with, but when I started Chemo, both became obsessed with protecting me. When I came home with the drains, it just got worse. They can smell the blood and it has them both very upset. Obviously, Mommy is hurt, but we can't see where, or who did it, so NO ONE is allowed to be near Mommy. Not Michele. Not Cleo. No one is allowed near me. So we are not allowing visitors to the house. Also, the boys are wild with Michele, jumping, running and just being the active dogs they are. With me... I hold my hand up and say no... they settle as much as two terrier breeds can settle. But they create unique challenges too. I can't walk them on a leash, because I don't have the strength right now to control them. Putting them out on tie out chains is just as much fun though because in their excitement, they pull away as I am trying to put the lead on them. Yep... Bully breeds can be a great upper body work out.

But regardless of how much work they create, they have been a blessing. I feel their love and concern every day. I watch them as they learn how to interact with me without hurting me. I love how they comfort me and protect me. If you ever wondered if there is some greater power in this world, look into your pets eyes. That constant love and forgiveness is all the proof I ever need.

Reality Check

Today we met with the Radiation Coordinator. I still have a drain in, which we hope to have out next week, and as soon as it is out and we do a CT scan, I will be starting radiation. The doctor who sat with us to discuss this was very frank about my condition. He made certain that we understood that this will not cure my cancer, but will decrease my risk of certain types of cancer by two-thirds. He talked about the effects of radiation, and the possible side effects. He stressed that we would have no guarantees that radiation was even working until weeks after it is done. Then he said it was up to me to make the decision because having stage 4 cancer, I will never be cancer free...

Never be cancer free...

So... How's that for a reality check? I have known in my head that this is permanent, but I think hearing the doctor go over the diagnosis and basically tell me that we may be doing all of this and have no effect on the cancer was an eye-opener. And I suppose I could just roll over and say let's stop, but I simply can't do that. I have never been a quitter, and I don't plan to quit on this. I still have a chance, and even though the odds are against me, I will go down fighting. What we want is for this to become just a chronic condition where I have flare-ups that we treat until some new medical miracle comes along.

Until then... I just keep the faith. I keep doing what the doctors recommend.I continue to enjoy my time with my family and friends. I keep believing in myself. I keep living... even if it means living with cancer.

The many Scars of Cancer.... (Warning- Icky Photos)

I thought I should start this with at least one nice photo, because the next few are going to be not so pretty. See, I want to keep a record not just for myself, but for anyone who has to go through this. Unfortunately, having cancer means having scars. All kinds of scars. So, this is  my advance warning... what follows may not be pleasant to look at, so feel free to skip this post if you have a delicate disposition. But for those of you who may be curious, or who might be getting ready for surgery, or know someone who is about to have surgery, I am not shy about my scars. Right now, they are a little frightening, but I know they will be better later.

Learning my limits

Today I went out shopping with mom. I have been feeling pretty good and moving around a bit at home, doing small housework, playing with my dog a little... so I figured that going out to do a bit of shopping would be fine.  We left the house at about 3pm and started with picking up mom's prescription. We went to Goodwill to find pants for mom's boyfriend, then to Great Clips to get mom's hair cut. I sat in the chair watching the lady cut and style mom's hair. Next on to Kmart, where I had to stop mom from buying things she didn't really need (we had a list... stick to the list... stay out of the clearance!) and then we went to Lowes to return some things and look at lawn care stuff. Not a terribly huge list of things to do and really, we were done in two hours, but man oh man was I exhausted. By the time we got out of Kmart I was ready to fall over, but I just wanted to get the last thing finished and go home. See... stubborn.

On the ride back to the house, I told mom I was worn out. I was amazed that it had only been two hours, because I felt like I usually feel after a 10 hour work day. Mom, of course, scolded me that I need to take it easy and say something when I am getting tired. Basically, I need to work on dealing with my limits. Yes, I used to be able to do all that and more, but right now, my body has limits that I need to respect. So of course, this got me thinking about accepting my limitations.

I am not a woman who gives up easy. I will always find some way to get things done. At times, I push myself so hard that I come close to breaking. This is especially true with work, but it is equally true on the home front. And yet, there are times when I try to do things that are beyond me, and no matter how stubborn I am, they will always be beyond me, but I keep trying. I have a hard time admitting to myself that I can't do everything. Or at least I did have a hard time...

Lately I have learned to accept that I am not Wonder Woman. I have limits. I can't take care of everything. I can't bear as much weight as I used to. I can't stand as long without rest. I need help to do basic things. I have to speak up when I am tired. I have to accept help when it is offered and ask for it when I need it. And I think of all the lessons I am learning... this one is probably one of the hardest.

Love and Marriage

For anyone who is married or who has ever been to a wedding (which pretty much includes every person in the world), we all know the classic vow; For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. On that day, when you stand beside the person you love most in this world, the last thing on most people's mind is that in sickness part. In fact, on that day, the happy couple is likely not thinking about any of the pitfalls or bad points of a marriage. But as time goes on, things happen and it is in the times of trouble that marriage is tested. Some can't make it because both partners aren't committed. Some hang on as long as they can and slowly dissolve. But then there are the ones who learn how to ride out the bad times and somehow get stronger.

I will never pretend that Michele and I have always had a perfect marriage. We have had times when it seemed like we might throw up our hands and walk away, but we never did. There are times in any marriage where it seems like the well of love has run dry, yet both partners continue, just like we have in those times, because we had faith in each other. We took our vows seriously. In Good times and Bad. We adjusted. We talked. We worked through whatever it was. We trusted that love would win in the end.

When my cancer diagnosis came, it seemed like a wake up call to us both. I know  I have always loved Michele, but the threat of dying made me realize how much I loved her. It gave me the will to fight. Trying to imagine going through this without her strength is impossible. Every day now I look at her and feel this amazing warmth of love.And while I can't speak for her, I can say that she must be feeling the same thing. I see it in her smile when I have a good day. I feel it in her arms when she holds me close. Right after I was diagnosed, I felt the change in the way she held me; it was as if she was trying to keep some monster from pulling me away. I know we both noticed the change in the relationship because we have talked about it. And while I am eternally grateful that we are closer now than we have ever been, I just wish it hadn't taken something like this to make it happen.

So my thought for the day, for everyone out there who is married or getting married, is this... I want you to look at your partner today and open your eyes completely. Imagine that someone has told you that you only have today to show them how much you love them. How would you do that? Once you figure that out, I want you to do that every day, because no one ever promised us forever, so we need to make today count.

Oh Happy Day!

Today is a great day!  I had two of those horrible drains removed and I feel awesome! I think I am almost too excited to sit here and write about it. I laughed, I cried, and I even danced in the grocery store parking lot. You have no idea what this feels like for me.

First, there is the relief that two of those painful drains are gone. I was beginning to feel like a Cenobite...you know...those scarey looking monsters with all the tubes from the Hellraiser movies. Every move I made caused pain, but I moved anyway because I couldn't just sit still. I was terrified that they would get infected, or that I would yank them out, or that the doctor would tell me that they would be in for longer because the color of the yuck never changed. Every pain I experienced had me running to the mirror to examine them and the areas around them, looking for signs of infection. But the biggest relief for me came as I realized that this whole nightmare is almost over.For the first time in months, I felt genuinely ecstatic.

Since this began, I have run a whole gamut of feelings, some of which I pushed away or buried so deep because I stubbornly refused to give Cancer the satisfaction of breaking me. In my mind this whole time, Cancer has become not just some diagnosis, but more real... like some Evil Overlord trying to invade my home and destroy everything I love. When I am alone, I sometimes find myself thinking not of the cancer, but at the Cancer. Like we are two warriors on a battlefield, I scream in defiance. Cancer... you can take my hair... I will grow it again. You can take my breasts... they do not define my femininity.I can look at myself in the mirror and not feel a pang of loss, or a moment of disgust. My scars will be badges of honor; the places where they once were will still be beautiful, just different. You can cause me pain as we battle with chemicals, knives, radiation and blood will run. But you will never take anything away from me that really matters... In fact, the more you take from me, the tougher I become. I am like a sword, forged in fire, beaten and then quenched, only to become stronger.

Learning to be still

You know, it is hard to sit still. Especially if you are as active as I tend to be, but I am learning. In fact, I am learning a great deal. I have learned to tolerate needles. I, the woman who gets queasy talking about blood, have learned to look at it every day and do little more than go ewww. I have learned more about the big C than anyone who is not a doctor should need to know.

I have learned that there is nothing on TV worth watching, and that all the daytime commercials are lawyers. I assume because the lawyers figure if you are at home during the day, you must be sick, old, disabled or a combination of these. But I have gotten to see re-runs of Designing Women, which is a show I always loved.
And... don't watch America's Funniest Videos when you have stitches anywhere on your upper body... I think I popped a stitch on one of those videos.

But the biggest thing I am learning goes back to that first statement... to be still. Not being inactive, not being hypnotized by the tv, not playing on the computer to pass the time. No... I mean sitting still with myself and feeling what and who I am. I am learning to examine my inner self. I am redefining my life priorities. I am feeling the love that comes to me, not just from my family and friends, but from people I haven't met yet, people I am only acquainted with through other friends, and of course from Higher Powers. Some days, I feel so full of love I think I must be glowing. I feel it like a warm tingle, an all over body massage. It reminds me of the one time I had a spa day. They covered me in lavender oil, wrapped me in a damp sheet, then rolled me up in tinfoil, and put me under a heat lamp like a lavender gyro. I felt so warm and enclosed and relaxed. That is the feeling I am re-experiencing now.

Yes... I still have my not so awesome days. There are days that I am impatient. Why is this not over with? When will these injuries heal? How much longer will this take? Then there are days where I am gripped by the pending dooms. You know that feeling... for some reason your stomach is twisted and cold, your whole body feels numb and you feel a sense of dread from out of nowhere. But when these things happen, I take a deep breath and reach out for that love. And you know what? Love does conquer.

Nothing special, just babbling

I keep reading all this stuff about a condition that cancer patients get called Chemo Brain. We forget things. We have a hard time recalling names. We lose some basic cognitive functions. Well... that has got to be the best and worst thing I have heard lately. So, when I forget someones name, I can just chalk it up to CB and not the fact that I am just really bad at remembering names. Then there is the downside. I already have to hunt for my glasses, my keys and my wallet... what will I forget next? Should I get microchipped in case I wander off and can't find my house? I know I won't be able to call because I don't know the phone number ( I just push M and Michele pops right up) and the cell phone is the one thing I lose most often.

My cancer health nurse called today and reassured me about these yucky drain things. I thought that the yuck would start one color, get lighter and then stop, but she said not always. That was such a relief to hear because I was starting to think I was bleeding to death slowly. They just need to record output. Like how much yuck you release in a day. And I asked if I was okay with taking the bra off, which I had already done, but you know... I just wanted to make sure I wasn't making a huge medical error. She told me I could take it off and burn it if I wanted to. They apparently are just important to hold the drain things if you are not having reconstruction.

I tried to do a little housework today. The nurse said I am okay to do normal activities (sweep, mop, dust) but nothing involving lifting, pulling or pushing. So... I can sweep everything behind the sofa and I have a good excuse. I did, however, pull out the microwave table. One of the cats decided to poop behind it. Who knows why they do that, but she did, and the smell was making me nuts. So after much searching I found the source. Now... do I wake up Michele to have her move the table? Or do I find a way to use my legs to pull the table away from the wall? hmmmmm.... It's amazing what you can do with a really big towel wrapped around your table. I harnessed myself in and pulled it out without using my chest or arm muscles! Go me! I may invent a whole new way to clean house before this is over.

Ode to my Hairdresser

You know... I have mentioned my hairdresser several times here and in thinking about what she does and how important a role she plays in women's lives, I want to talk a bit about our roles in peoples lives.

Marlinda, my hairdresser, cuts hair. But that isn't all she does. No... your hairdresser is the woman who starts out as someone who does a service and becomes someone who you can't live without. She (or he) is your therapist who listens as you talk about your hopes, your fears, your family, your plans. She is a magician who transforms you into the vision you have of yourself. She is the friend who knows all your secrets, who laughs with you, who cries with you, who does her best to send you out into the world as the best You that there is.When your hairdresser leaves, there is a feeling of loss, especially if you can't go with her wherever she goes. You never realize until that moment how important she is.

One of the things I have learned from Marlinda is how many times she has been the one to help cancer patients with that horrible first step... the haircut. I never really thought about it before, but she is like a first responder. She is where the scary part of the cancer starts. She has to be strong as she cuts off the hair of these women, knowing that for some of them it might be the last time they ever visit her shop. She gets to celebrate with the rest when they come in with their new hair, changed by chemo. For women facing cancer, their hairdresser is probably one of the people who make it all real... like the cancer hits home when you look at your shaved head the first time. How strong and courageous these men and women who wield their clippers are, laughing with us and putting on their best performance to assure us that it will grow back before we know it.

Thinking about this made me realize how important all the members of the beauty profession are in the fight against breast cancer. These professionals know more about us than their doctors do, and usually they know first if something is different or odd. After all... we rarely go to the doctor until we have to, but we see these professionals at least once a month. So... I am calling on all my friends in the beauty industry for a favor. Educate your clients. You don't necessarily have to talk to them about it in specific, but encourage them to seek help if they mention any warning signs. Let a breast cancer awareness group leave some pamphlets in your waiting area. Encourage your clients who are cutting off their long hair to donate it. And remember that when your client comes in for that terrible buzzcut... we are all praying to be back in that chair again real soon.

I also work in an industry where we are among the first to know, but unlike your hairdresser, or your manicurist or any of the other workers in the beauty industry, I will see the patient through the whole thing. I become a part of their therapy. For me, I am lucky... My hairdresser is a close friend who has been with me through the whole thing, and I can't wait till she sees this bushy mess that is finally starting to grow back in. I may just have to go see her just to show her my peach fuzz..

Again... in my long winded way... my point is... we all have a job description, but that description never really seems to cover everything we do. That girl who sells you your morning coffee is the first smiling face you see before you head out to work. She brightens your day with a smile and jokes with you when your routine changes. Sometimes you stand and talk a little. She gradually becomes in a small way important. I think we all need to look at our day and start thanking the people who are important in little ways, and then remember that we are also important in the lives of people we never realized. (My wife said it took her an hour to get out of my store today because the customers and employees were all curious about my health... see how important the local store manager is?)

And by the way... Don't forget... tips are always welcome, big tips are awesome, and big tips that come with a hug and heartfelt thank you make a us all remember why we got into these professions.

One week after surgery

It's been a couple of days since I posted... mainly due to drugs and sleeping. I am staying at Mom's right now, and can I just say... I miss my house. I love being with mom and being taken care of, but I miss my bright colored walls, my light and airy kitchen, watching my cats sleep on their tree in the sun beams. I Miss my dogs. Mostly... I miss my wife.

I miss snuggling in the bed and watching Harry Potter for the millionth time. I miss coffee in the morning while we read the news. I miss laughing while we make dinner. I miss her presence in the house. It's hard to rest here because Michele is at home or at work and I am away from all the familiar stuff that make up my home. So, I take my pills and I sleep all day. I wait impatiently for these freakin drains to be removed.

The drains... Let me tell you about these things. When they let me out of the hospital, I had this horrible surgery bra on with these three drains and tubes pinned to it. I have to dump them and measure their output daily. Okay... ICK! The bra lasted until yesterday when I could not take it another second. I felt constrained, like I couldn't take a deep breath. The elastic rubbed my skin raw. The padding inside it itched like crazy. Finally, I pulled it off. Oh what a relief! Now I had to find a way to cover the stitches and keep the entry holes covered. After a couple of experiments, I have everything bandaged and I went to put the evil bra back on. But first.... I looked at the size. It was a large... for women 38-40.  Ummmm.... that explains a lot.

I am a big girl. I am not ashamed of it. I come from a long line of big beautiful women. My bra size, since I was 35 was between 42d and 44d. No wonder that bra was killing me. Two to four inches make a HUGE difference. Ask anyone... size matters. So until I can go buy a bra for this, I rigged up one with scarves. Now I look like some crazed gypsy woman with scarves on my head, scarves wrapped around my breast scars and two  scarves holding up my drainage bulbs. I am a real fashion plate. I will have to have someone get a picture of me.

Happy thoughts for the day... I love my mom. And I am so glad that she and her boyfriend have gotten back together. It's nice to see her happy again. I love having him here (and not just because he is a good cook).

Let me tell you the ways...

Today is a day of good news and bad news. The good news... We got clean margins, so we don't have to go take any more skin. The cancer is no longer able to be found in any skin samples. The bad news... it is still in my lymph nodes. She is waiting for one more test to come back, but it looks like radiation is the last chance we have to get rid of it. I jokingly asked her if I can be assurred of at least two more years and she said she can't promise anything.

Funny... I am actually kinda comforted by the news I got. I mean.. no... I am not cancer free, but I know that it is still treatable, and as long as there is a slim chance, I am taking it. My poor wife... I can tell she is not as happy as I am about this, but again... In October I had stage IV cancer. Today I still have it, but it looks manageable. Every day for me has been a gift, and what I heard from my doctor was that I still have gifts coming. That I will have more sunrises. That I will have more hugs. That I have another chance to tell someone how much I love them.

So again... bear with me while I get kinda sappy. I am going to name some names here, and From now on, I want to end each post with a different love note. Since I have already waxed eloquent over my mom and my wife, I am going to start with some odd ones.

Michelle D....  Since I just got a hug from you yesterday, you get the first one.I love the way you open your heart to strangers and care about people even when you had a bad experience. I appreciate every email you send to check on me and that big hug you give when you see me.
Dustin D and Eric... Your smile today brightened my day up. I love the way you opened up to me and trusted me from day one. I love your energy and your love for eachother. You remind me of Michele and I when we were young.
Kelly and your sweetie who also gave me big hugs yesterday... you know how much of a help you have been through the years. Your bravery over the last couple of years has been inspirational. I always appreciate and value your opinion over many others.
My Biggest I love yous for today have to go to my dance family. Marlinda, Myra, Pat, Kelly, Rosalie, Kristy, Robbie, Nick, Jason, Bob, Adrienne, Maureen, Emily and Joyce ( and geezz... everyone at Fred Astaire Charlotte and Pinehurst too) accepted Michele and I from the beginning, making us feel welcome at the dance studio, then making us feel welcome into their lives. Anything we ever needed, They were right there. They always made us feel loved and welcomed. They made me feel like a little sister, a best friend and a beloved daughter all in one. I never expected to walk into that studio and find a family... but I did and for that I thank God every day.

I need to say... I already embarrassed a couple of people with my I love yous over the phone... but you better get used to it. Cancer taught me a big lesson... don't save I love you for another day. Don't wait to say it... say it now!

Post Surgery update

What a great after surgery face!

Well... I had the surgery. Right now my chest is so bandaged it looks like I still have little A cup boobs, but I know its just bandages. I have been walking around, lifting my arms as much as I can and trying to keep mobile. Surprisingly, I feel good. I mean really good. Like happy and contented kind of good. It could just be the drugs, but I think it is more the relief that the worst part is over with.

I don't find out till Monday exactly how well the surgery went, because that's when we get the results on the nodes she removed, but she said she left enough skin that if we need to go back in and get more, we can. But the surgeon seemed optimistic, and I take that as a good sign.

For me, I am just happy. And you know what? It's been a while since I have been this happy, so I will enjoy it while I can. It's a rainy day, but I am enjoying it because I am here and alive and I can feel the breeze on my head. Happiness is small things, like coffee in the morning. Or friends who text and call and visit bearing big stuffed flowers (Thank you Paula!). See.... my world is full of blessings. For everyone reading me... I love you!