Last Good Hair Day

I washed my hair for the last time today.

As I was combing, hair pulled out in clumps.  Kyle walked by my sink and said something like, "Man, that's a lot of hair!  No wonder you're going to shave it off!"   I washed it down the drain {whoever buys my houses will have lots and LOTS of hair down their drains....sorry!} once, and then attempted to style it for the last time, as I'll be shaving it off tomorrow.  This was the sink AGAIN after the second combing:

People ask why I choose to shave off my hair.  Well, I don't do shedding well.  I don't do clumps and blotchy baldness well.  I don't enjoy waking up with a pile of hair on my pillow.  We don't have pets that shed for this reason, so the humans in the house are not allowed to shed, either.

Last time at this point, I cut my hair into a short bob, but that only lasted a few weeks because I could not take the look of my sink filled with hair every time I ran my hands through it.  I know me.  Watching the slow decline is much harder than just facing the fact that I'm going to lose my hair head-on and shaving it off.

 I've had more tears this time around, maybe because I know what's coming and I don't want to do it again, but I know I need to.  It's too early in the battle to give up the fight.  I'm ready....or as ready as I'll ever be.  First, saying good-bye to this hair.  It's going---tomorrow night!

This part is easier than losing the brows and lashes.  That's not a fun part for me at all, but bring it!

A Low Moment

Two days of water and saltine crackers broke me.  That, and pulling out piles of hair while combing my hair after the shower.  I had a moment of self pity and cried, just so frustrated that I'm already doing this again.  Why?  Why, oh, why do I have to do this again, so soon after finishing the first fight?  I don't want to!

I've been sticking to food to stay alive, rather than eating for enjoyment.  Eating is the furthest thing from enjoyment these days, as even with a lidocaine/antac/benadryl solution, it is painful!  My ear is better, which is nice, but there is a lower point in my esophagus that burns every time I swallow.  I am trying the BRAT diet, with a few twists, but it's a chore to eat enough calories to keep me going.  I'm doing well on staying hydrated; just have to force myself to drink water, and water is about the only thing I can drink without pain.  Had Rice and chicken soup for dinner--painful going down, but did well once swallowed.

I try---oh, I try----to not let the low moments creep in, but today I found myself asking when was life going to take a break from giving me lemons?  I'm getting a little tired of all this lemonade.  (Who can handle all that acidity anyway?) Hopefully tomorrow will be better, and the next day a little better than that.  If I am moving uphill, I'm just happy to be moving.  

Cancer Emotions Session

 It's hard for me to know what I need, especially when bad times hit so hard and everyone wants to help all at once.  I am still processing the emotions of being diagnosed again and rushing through the scans, surgery, appointments, and treatments to even know what people can do for me at this point.

I remember feeling overwhelmed and loved the first time around by the willingness of others to give of their time and talents to help me and my family, and this time is no different.  Meals, childcare, driving help, company, a shoulder to cry on, loving words, prayers, friendship are all welcomed and frequently given.  Then, along comes an idea that I never knew I always wanted.

A very talented and lovely friend of mine, Amber Hagen, is a photographer.  Not an "OOOh, my husband bought me a nice camera, so now I'm a photographer" photographer.  She's a REAL photographer, with a studio and backdrops, props, all kinds of lighting and other gadgets I know nothing about.  She came up with this idea the first time around to document the process of my emotions and changes with photography, almost a journal in images.  The sessions were very powerful and therapeutic, and I looked forward to each one.

My plan had been to have one final session when I reached my one-year mark.  I wanted pink of all kinds---balloons, glitter, sequins, a tutu, a tiara, sparkly shoes, jumping, celebrating----basically an adult version of a girly one-year old's birthday photo shoot.  My one-year mark came and went, and I wasn't quick enough to squeeze the photographic celebration in.  When my diagnosis came back as cancer, Amber was quick to suggest a session, with whatever emotions I was feeling.

I wanted the opposite of my pink party princess--a dark and sad and broken down one, and that's exactly what I got.


Sadness and despair, but still feeling comfort and love and the light from above:

The sad party princess:

The mad, angry, throwing a fit, kicking and screaming party princess:

And, the tears came---for real.

(At so many of our other sessions, we tried to talk and capture crying, but I could never cry.  It never was a terrifying at it is now, and I didn't cry as often as I thought I would.  Now, I cry a lot.  Mean, ugly, mascara-stained tears.

And, I always have her take a before picture:  You know, in case they need one for an obituary......or the inside cover of a book I write, whichever comes first.

Service and therapy comes in countless forms, and I am often the most touched when people truly give of themselves.  These sessions are a perfect example of that.

Leave it to Fleener---Follow Up

I had a scheduled appointment with Dr. Fleener yesterday, which turned out to be good timing.  I planned to discuss with her some crazy pain I was having in my throat and up into my ear.  I wondered if I had an ear infection because that pain was so powerful it was making it difficult to eat or drink anything.  No food sounded appetizing, and my usual go-to in between foods, like smoothies or soups were painful to swallow because the extreme temperatures just enflamed the pain.  I also threw up on Friday night after leaving the movies.  (Stephen had to pull over so I could lean out of the car and empty all the gatorade and popcorn I just consumed.)  I also threw up Monday night after only forcing down egg drop soup and water for most of the day.  I knew it wasn't going down a great path, but I kept trying to eat and drink as much as I could.  It wasn't enough.

At the doctor, I found out I'd lost about 8 lbs.  We discussed my ear and throat pain and we talked about other symptoms:  How were my bowels? How was my bone pain?  How am I really doing emotionally with all of this? Dr. F said that this first round is usually the worst, just because we don't know what to expect with my body and its reaction to the chemo.  Day 8-10 are usually the worst as I try to come back from the lowest point in the process and make my way back up.  That's good news, as I should be on the uphill turn now.  The most concerning thing about my visit was that my heart rate came in at a staggering 151.  We hoped that this was because of my lack of food and fluids and my heart trying to pump harder to make up for that and spread the blood around as quickly as it could.  

They got me hooked up in the back, accessing my port, to give me fluids.  This helped my blood pressure to go down, but still at a point that was too high.  Even though it's painful and doesn't sound appetizing, I have to eat and drink more to not break my heart.  I never had this last time, as cold and hot weren't difficult to eat, and I was always sipping on a smoothie or chomping ice.  It's also been a good amount of years since I've had an ear infection.  This is definitely never boring.  

I'm supposed to force myself to stay hydrated and take a Zpack to hopefully kill the ear and throat pain.  And, if it doesn't seem to get better, I need to come back in for more fluids.  

They will also give me a stronger nausea medicine with the next round.  Dr. F laughed and said that it's crazy, but now "insurance will pay for it," because I was sick even while I the medicine I was given.  It's crazy how you have to get sick in order to get the best medicine out there.  

I don't have time for all these little sick side effects.  I have a life to live!!!  

My Heart

"Thank you that Mommy doesn't go to heaven."

Taken out of context, I wonder if this prayer from my 5-year-old could be received as a boy begging God to send his mom somewhere else, but I know this is just Ryan's way of praying that I stay around on earth for a long time.  He has told me over and over that he doesn't want me to go to heaven and that I need to not be sick.  I'm trying, buddy.  I'm trying.

This morning, my 3-year-old came up to me to exclaim that "your boo-boos" are gone!!!  (My port site has cleared up.)  "You're not sick anymore!," he gathered, and was not happy about being wrong.  "But, you can't die.  You are my heart.  I love you!  You can't die!!!"

The oldest gets things a little better.  "Please bless that Mom can beat this cancer and get better soon."

These boys are my heart and a huge reason to fight!

Balance

Homeostasis is a word I remember hearing from way back in my study of biology.  Amazingly, systems have a built-in sense of staying regulated and to constantly adjust variables in order to achieve the most consistency possible.  When one system gets off balance, other systems are in place to step up and help bring about order and return to homeostasis.  It's an incredible part of life and existence that I understood from a scientific view up until now.   The human body is no different.  I am actually living through the process of my body trying to achieve balance and return itself to a normal state of being.

Like balancing equations, when some process or action changes the balance, another change must occur to restore it.  My body is in pain caused by cancer.  Chemo and other treatments are introduced to try to remove the negative factors, but the side effects of these treatments leave other systems off-balance and out of proper order.  New drugs are added to offset the negative side effects, and it all becomes this constant battle between finding balance and restoring order.  My body is tired from fighting, but I have medicines that help me sleep and regain strength.  Some of these medicines cause my bowels to be irregular, but chemo is trying to swing that to the complete opposite side of the spectrum.  For the past few days, I can tell my body doesn't seem to know what to do.  Chemo is trying its hardest to disrupt the delicate balance, but the other drugs are battling back.  Somehow everything is working out to remain at a balanced point.

I can feel that even in a few days since having chemo, my pain has decreased and I seem to have a wider range of motion, even though I am constantly battling the fatigue of fighting.   This chemo is battling what has been causing me pain and breaking me down by breaking me down again and allowing my body the ability to rebuild itself.  Again, it's a way of finding balance through a paradox.

My throat is clearing up from the side effects of radiation, but I'm trying to figure out what I can eat.  Since my stomach is a little sensitive, even though foods might sound appetizing and I can actually swallow them now without pain, they do not always agree with me.  I was warned to stay away from spicy food, specifically Mexican, but this is one of my favorite things to eat!!!  When that is what sounds delicious and it doesn't hurt going down, it seems to be a win-win.  However, I'm figuring out that balance in this case can be best achieved by not attempting to swing to the extremes.  My lunch of quesadillas didn't sit well, I had no appetite for dinner, ate something just to eat, and ended up vomiting everything last night.  At least that was one way to get back to a balanced equation!

I'm still learning how all these treatments will effect me, but it's interesting to witness the systems in place to help my body try to return itself to a proper balance.

Days After Chemo #1

All my prayer warriors out there must be working overtime!   I keep waiting for the bad stuff to start, but you would hardly know I even had chemo this week!  No diarrhea, no nausea, no crazy fatigue....it's incredible.  I hope this isn't just building me up with false hope, but I am grateful for all the good days I can get.  I still have pain and fatigue, a combination of the same back pain I've felt since this cancer came back to attack my spine, and a tired feeling from chemo and all the drugs I take to keep the negative side effects at bay.  I am hopeful that this first week of chemo hasn't taken me down.

The influx of information on the first day of chemo was overwhelming.  I probably should have been taking notes on all the things to remember and what to look for.  Basically, I just have to be on top of my health and try to stay ahead of what can cause the biggest damage.  Staying hydrated, eating a healthy diet, and trying to be as active as possible should help counterbalance some of the worst side effects.  I have been trying to sip water all day long, even though my throat is still quite raw.  I've noticed that cold and hot foods are hard, as well as certain spicy foods.  I am hoping that as the effects of the radiation wear off, this raw esophagus will start to heal and make it easier to eat, drink, and take pills without difficulty in swallowing.  I was able to go to yoga yesterday, and even though I can't do everything and have to be on a modified level, I feel like some activity is better than none.  Resting when I can has also been important in helping me get through each day.  

Dehydration for diarrhea and a high fever were the most severe of side effects and those that would require a call to the doctor, day or night.  I have not come close to any of that yet, but I would not be surprised if my body gets weaker and weaker as these rounds of chemo keep building.  As of now, I am thankful for the good days I've had since the first round and that I don't have to go back for a few more weeks!!!  

Thank you for the love, prayers, and positive thoughts.  I am buoyed up by all of the support!  Much love!!!