June 2, 2011: Yesterday was my boyfriend's birthday. I think this is the first year I haven't at least given him a card to celebrate his happy day. My only gift was a birthday kiss and a sausage McMuffin for breakfast. I hope he knows how much I love him and how grateful I am to have his quiet, solid support in my life. He is the anchor in my sometimes stormy days and nights.
I am overwhelmed right now by the abundance of quiet gifts in my life. My children (and I count my daughter-in-law and son-in-law as my own, too) bend over backwards to make my life easier and brighter, serving me with simple acts of kindness and sacrificing their own hard-earned dollars to ease my burdens. They never complain, they never hesitate - they simply give and give some more, often anonymously. I can never thank them enough. My mom, too, has been quietly serving me during this tough last week of treatment. I am very grateful for the clean kitchen, the extra blanket on my cold feet, the bag of groceries or take-out to keep us fed, and the loving concern for my physical AND emotional health. She is an angel.
And then, there are the quiet gifts that have been coming through the mail, often unsigned, or simply signed, "from someone who loves you." My cup (and my tears) truly runneth over. The words of encouragement, the expressions of faith, the quotes that I'm carefully re-writing in my journal brighten my days like a happy-face balloon - they lift my spirits and make me smile. And those who are quietly and unselfishly helping me wade through the mountains of bills are truly an answer to prayer. I pray every day for YOU, that you will be blessed for your sacrifices and know the joy of your Christ-like service. I thank you with all my heart.
I have three more days of treatment. I keep telling my little shrunken tummy that grumbles and aches for a good meal and my blistered tongue and my swollen right earlobe (can't get an earring in anymore) and the tight, sunburned scar tissue on my neck that "this too shall pass." I hope in the future I never take my sensitive taste buds and barely-there saliva for granted, and I am anxious for the day when I can savor a bite of food with delicious abandon and not gag on the sticky saliva that clogs my throat. But, most of all, I hope and dream and pray that this "killer" radiation has truly killed any inkling of a cancer cell, any whisper of something that thinks it's going to ruin my life. I feel certain it has been successful, that with all the pain and starvation and inconvenience and cost, it was worth it, every second. And there's another quiet gift...the miracles and hope that flood my wounded body. Cancer - and radiation treatments - cannot kill that. I have no doubts - only hope and faith.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Trying to Unwrap Patience
May 31, 2011: First, I have to say that I have always felt blessed to have a holiday birthday. I grew up thinking the annual trip to the cemetery with buckets of lilacs and peonies and gladiolas were to celebrate ME; the picnics and the parades and the barbecues were the added icing on my cake. I was actually sad when the powers-that-be changed Memorial Day to a Monday - no matter the date - because that rubbed out MY holiday! Hallelujah that this year's date fell perfectly smack dab on my day again...I needed that extra burst of celebration, especially since the picnics and the barbecues were out of the question. An added silver lining was that the radiation treatment center was CLOSED! I got a three-day break! Can you hear me sighing with relief? I may not have been able to chow down on a juicy burger and chips and dips, but my heart was buoyed by flowers and cards and well wishes and hugs and kisses and precious gifts and phone calls. I have the best family. I have the best friends. I have a great life, all 52 years of it.
Today, I was back to treatment with a plate of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies (I could only eat a couple...I wanted to eat the whole batch!) for my great team of technicians and doctors. I also got to visit with Dr. Avizonis and ask her about my newest side effect - BLISTERS on the right side of my tongue! I couldn't fall asleep last night for the pain - do you realize how much you move your tongue around in your mouth? Try it right now. Close your mouth. Sit still for a few minutes. Does your tongue automatically start searching your teeth and your gums and the sides of your cheeks? Now, imagine you have tiny little SORE blisters along the side of your tongue that sting and hurt with every move - yep, ouch! Dr. A looked at my (sore) throat and my (sore) tongue with her little headlamp and declared that I would benefit from the Magic Mouthwash solution from the pharmacy. It's made up of six ingredients, like Benedryl, Novocaine, Maalox (for thickness), an antibiotic, a mild steroid, and water. She also prescribed painkillers, but only as a last resort just before bed. Even before I tried it, I knew the mouthwash must be made of GOLD (at $40 a bottle), but with my first swish, I felt relief. Numbing relief. Too bad it only lasted about an hour and a half, but oooohhh... relief. I can swish up to four times a day, and I'm saving my last swish for just before bed.
At dinner tonight, I had to push away the juicy ripe FRESH pineapple (too acidic) and the zesty herb barbecued chicken (hardly any taste) and the corn on the cob (hurt my tongue to pull off the kernels) and even my glass of ice water (too cold on those open blisters). I couldn't help but think, "what a mean thing to have happen at this point in the treatments!" I thought I was going to whip this thing and just get by with eating and drinking bland for the next few weeks. Nobody warned me about blisters! But then again, maybe it's a good thing they didn't.
As of today, I only have five more treatments. FIVE!! I can do five! I just have to have a bit more patience. I'll use a straw to keep the water away from my tongue. I'll eat while the Magic Mouthwash is still half-effective. I'll use more aloe vera on my raw and sunburned neck and cheek. I'll have a little longer nap in the afternoons. I'll keep smiling because I do still have all my teeth! I'll rub that neck scar with tender care because I know all the cancer cells are gone! I'll make some new notches in my belt to keep my jeans up! I'll fluff up all the hair I still have on my head! I'll keep praying and hugging and kissing and saying thank you because I am HERE to do it!
Is it too early to plan next year's birthday? Can I have pizza and grilled hamburgers and chips with Aaron's homemade salsa and fresh pineapple and cheesecake and a salad with loads of tomatoes and avocados? Plan on it! You're all invited!
Today, I was back to treatment with a plate of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies (I could only eat a couple...I wanted to eat the whole batch!) for my great team of technicians and doctors. I also got to visit with Dr. Avizonis and ask her about my newest side effect - BLISTERS on the right side of my tongue! I couldn't fall asleep last night for the pain - do you realize how much you move your tongue around in your mouth? Try it right now. Close your mouth. Sit still for a few minutes. Does your tongue automatically start searching your teeth and your gums and the sides of your cheeks? Now, imagine you have tiny little SORE blisters along the side of your tongue that sting and hurt with every move - yep, ouch! Dr. A looked at my (sore) throat and my (sore) tongue with her little headlamp and declared that I would benefit from the Magic Mouthwash solution from the pharmacy. It's made up of six ingredients, like Benedryl, Novocaine, Maalox (for thickness), an antibiotic, a mild steroid, and water. She also prescribed painkillers, but only as a last resort just before bed. Even before I tried it, I knew the mouthwash must be made of GOLD (at $40 a bottle), but with my first swish, I felt relief. Numbing relief. Too bad it only lasted about an hour and a half, but oooohhh... relief. I can swish up to four times a day, and I'm saving my last swish for just before bed.
At dinner tonight, I had to push away the juicy ripe FRESH pineapple (too acidic) and the zesty herb barbecued chicken (hardly any taste) and the corn on the cob (hurt my tongue to pull off the kernels) and even my glass of ice water (too cold on those open blisters). I couldn't help but think, "what a mean thing to have happen at this point in the treatments!" I thought I was going to whip this thing and just get by with eating and drinking bland for the next few weeks. Nobody warned me about blisters! But then again, maybe it's a good thing they didn't.
As of today, I only have five more treatments. FIVE!! I can do five! I just have to have a bit more patience. I'll use a straw to keep the water away from my tongue. I'll eat while the Magic Mouthwash is still half-effective. I'll use more aloe vera on my raw and sunburned neck and cheek. I'll have a little longer nap in the afternoons. I'll keep smiling because I do still have all my teeth! I'll rub that neck scar with tender care because I know all the cancer cells are gone! I'll make some new notches in my belt to keep my jeans up! I'll fluff up all the hair I still have on my head! I'll keep praying and hugging and kissing and saying thank you because I am HERE to do it!
Is it too early to plan next year's birthday? Can I have pizza and grilled hamburgers and chips with Aaron's homemade salsa and fresh pineapple and cheesecake and a salad with loads of tomatoes and avocados? Plan on it! You're all invited!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Winding Down
May 27, 2011: This morning, as Mom and I dropped Nessi off at school, she said, "This is my last Friday of classes!" Whoa, that's right. Next Friday will be the last day of school and will only involve yearbook signings. It's sort of sad, that winding down.
However, I do love the end of school programs, especially if they involve preschool darlings and 2nd grade cuties. Last night, we gathered at the library for Avery's preschool program. What a sweet group of 3 - almost 4 - year olds! That little blond girl that we love so much is an angel and her teacher, Miss Alby, confirmed it loud and clear, claiming she wanted to "adopt" our Avery. I love that little A can count to 100 (and beyond) without a single mistake and knows the sounds/sights of the alphabet perfectly. We all got a kick out of her months of the year "Macarena" dance, too! Way to go, Miss Avery! As if that wasn't the pinnacle of a Grammy's week, Ally's 2nd grade program was this morning at the school. Mom and I flew out of treatment to make it back in time to see our girl sing and play the bells. She knew every word, handled TWO different bell tones, and was the sweetest girl in the PowerPoint presentation. She's not only the smartest girl in the class (I'm not biased at all), she's the "friend to all", and I'm so proud of her. Way to go, Ally-cakes! I do love my grand-girls!
Trudging on with treatments. SIX more to go! I get a wonderful three-day weekend - and birthday present - by not having to go on Monday. Feeling more sapped lately, but it could be a combination of things. Not being able to eat is definitely an energy buster. But, on we go, for we know there is an end.
This weekend, I'm grateful for those who have gone ahead. I hope they know how much I love and appreciate their good lives. I am what I am because of the wonderful heritage they left me. God bless our families - they are the reason for everything in this life.
However, I do love the end of school programs, especially if they involve preschool darlings and 2nd grade cuties. Last night, we gathered at the library for Avery's preschool program. What a sweet group of 3 - almost 4 - year olds! That little blond girl that we love so much is an angel and her teacher, Miss Alby, confirmed it loud and clear, claiming she wanted to "adopt" our Avery. I love that little A can count to 100 (and beyond) without a single mistake and knows the sounds/sights of the alphabet perfectly. We all got a kick out of her months of the year "Macarena" dance, too! Way to go, Miss Avery! As if that wasn't the pinnacle of a Grammy's week, Ally's 2nd grade program was this morning at the school. Mom and I flew out of treatment to make it back in time to see our girl sing and play the bells. She knew every word, handled TWO different bell tones, and was the sweetest girl in the PowerPoint presentation. She's not only the smartest girl in the class (I'm not biased at all), she's the "friend to all", and I'm so proud of her. Way to go, Ally-cakes! I do love my grand-girls!
Trudging on with treatments. SIX more to go! I get a wonderful three-day weekend - and birthday present - by not having to go on Monday. Feeling more sapped lately, but it could be a combination of things. Not being able to eat is definitely an energy buster. But, on we go, for we know there is an end.
This weekend, I'm grateful for those who have gone ahead. I hope they know how much I love and appreciate their good lives. I am what I am because of the wonderful heritage they left me. God bless our families - they are the reason for everything in this life.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Single Digits
May 25, 2011: As of yesterday, I am down to single digits until my last treatment! As of today, EIGHT!! June 7 cannot come fast enough, though I'm amazed at how time has sped by these last five weeks. I can't say it's been grueling (five minutes - really?) or painful or exhausting to go through the actual treatments. But, it has been very emotional as time has passed and the trips to Salt Lake continue and the effects have started to surface. Those beeps I hear in my ears really ARE radiation blasts! They are definitely NOT blanks!
Have had Good/Bad "minutes" the last few days:
Good minutes - driving Ness to and from school
Bad minutes - sitting in front of my computer screen to work and not being able to see well
Good minutes - eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream for dinner
Bad minutes - throwing up the half of banana and cup of water I had for breakfast
Good minutes - hearing Avery sing in the car on the way to treatment
Bad minutes - another bill in the mail
Good minutes - sunshine and a newly-mown lawn
Bad minutes - scattered tulip petals after a big rainstorm
Good minutes - a soft hug from Dean
Bad minutes - leg cramps in the night
Hoping for more good minutes today than bad. Gotta know that prayer will help make that happen. The sun and warmth coming through my window doesn't hurt either...
Have had Good/Bad "minutes" the last few days:
Good minutes - driving Ness to and from school
Bad minutes - sitting in front of my computer screen to work and not being able to see well
Good minutes - eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream for dinner
Bad minutes - throwing up the half of banana and cup of water I had for breakfast
Good minutes - hearing Avery sing in the car on the way to treatment
Bad minutes - another bill in the mail
Good minutes - sunshine and a newly-mown lawn
Bad minutes - scattered tulip petals after a big rainstorm
Good minutes - a soft hug from Dean
Bad minutes - leg cramps in the night
Hoping for more good minutes today than bad. Gotta know that prayer will help make that happen. The sun and warmth coming through my window doesn't hurt either...
Monday, May 23, 2011
Nap Mode
May 23, 2011: Had a glorious weekend with my St. George kids. Never long enough, but got to see baby Knox smile and hear him coo. That's a big blessing.
The side effects are more daunting than I thought they'd be. I'm either grouchy because I'm hungry and tired, or I'm emotional because I look kind of frightening with my lopsided hairstyle and my red neck and cheek. I've got a constant metallic taste in my mouth and I shudder every time I take a drink of water. But each day, when I climb off the radiation table, I think (and sometimes say aloud), "One more day down. The end is in sight."
Janessa and I went to the midnight showing last week of "Pirates of the Caribbean 4..." She's been counting down the days for a whole YEAR - how could I say no? It was an adventure. Lots of people in costume, especially one guy who had Captain Jack Sparrow down from his hair dreads to his buckled shoes. I was jealous of all the people munching their buttered popcorn and drinking their sodas. Worst of all, I had restless legs and couldn't sit still. Luckily, I was in an aisle seat and could stretch out a bit. Loved the movie, though. Laughed out loud, jumped at a few scary parts, and got all mushy at Captain Jack's sensitive side. Go see it, but leave the littles at home. The mermaid part is NOT Disney!!
I just finished work and am ready for nap mode. Dean is making oatmeal for dinner - maybe I'll be able to taste it if I drown it in brown sugar! Funny how those sweet taste buds are stronger than the salty ones. Lately, I tried to count the food commercials in an hour's time on TV - there were at least 2 in every break! That would be about 40 an hour! No wonder my tummy growls for pizza (Oh, Pizza Hut, how I crave a Supreme right now!) and juicy burgers and all the rest. Whatever YOU are having for dinner tonight, savor it for me, okay? I'll be taking a nap instead...
The side effects are more daunting than I thought they'd be. I'm either grouchy because I'm hungry and tired, or I'm emotional because I look kind of frightening with my lopsided hairstyle and my red neck and cheek. I've got a constant metallic taste in my mouth and I shudder every time I take a drink of water. But each day, when I climb off the radiation table, I think (and sometimes say aloud), "One more day down. The end is in sight."
Janessa and I went to the midnight showing last week of "Pirates of the Caribbean 4..." She's been counting down the days for a whole YEAR - how could I say no? It was an adventure. Lots of people in costume, especially one guy who had Captain Jack Sparrow down from his hair dreads to his buckled shoes. I was jealous of all the people munching their buttered popcorn and drinking their sodas. Worst of all, I had restless legs and couldn't sit still. Luckily, I was in an aisle seat and could stretch out a bit. Loved the movie, though. Laughed out loud, jumped at a few scary parts, and got all mushy at Captain Jack's sensitive side. Go see it, but leave the littles at home. The mermaid part is NOT Disney!!
I just finished work and am ready for nap mode. Dean is making oatmeal for dinner - maybe I'll be able to taste it if I drown it in brown sugar! Funny how those sweet taste buds are stronger than the salty ones. Lately, I tried to count the food commercials in an hour's time on TV - there were at least 2 in every break! That would be about 40 an hour! No wonder my tummy growls for pizza (Oh, Pizza Hut, how I crave a Supreme right now!) and juicy burgers and all the rest. Whatever YOU are having for dinner tonight, savor it for me, okay? I'll be taking a nap instead...
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Happy Bits
May 19, 2011: I'm pondering happiness today. I feel blessed by the small, simple things in my life. The (subdued for now) taste of homemade granola in a spoonful of yogurt...pillowcases and sheets fresh and warm from the dryer...a child's voice saying, "Grammy!"...a bright red tulip dripping with rain...a burst of energy to finish cleaning the bathroom...a drink of water that tastes neither salty nor metallic...a hug from a friend...knowing someone is praying for me...a kind receptionist at the doctor's office...a "see you after work" kiss in the morning...the pictures on my fridge...the excitement of a promised movie with my girl...two minutes to read in the car before school lets out...a snuggly blanket on a cold morning...knowing my far-away kids will be here before nightfall...a picture of the temple above my computer...an empty kitchen sink...a playlist of my favorite songs...
It's all the happy bits of life that keep me going. It's a body full of warrior cells that refuse to retreat. It's a heart that tries to see the child in the man on the corner. It's a spirit that knows He who conquered all will never leave me to fight alone.
I love this quote (thanks, Cindy): "What if you woke up with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?"
Thank you, God, for all the happy bits of my life. They are priceless.
It's all the happy bits of life that keep me going. It's a body full of warrior cells that refuse to retreat. It's a heart that tries to see the child in the man on the corner. It's a spirit that knows He who conquered all will never leave me to fight alone.
I love this quote (thanks, Cindy): "What if you woke up with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?"
Thank you, God, for all the happy bits of my life. They are priceless.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Melanoma Awareness Month
May 17, 2011: Today, I learned quite by accident (through a post on Facebook) that May is Melanoma Awareness Month. I think that's terrific, but why is May half over and we're just hearing about this?? Where are the TV ads, the radio spots, the junk ads that come up while you're Google-ing something to prod our awareness of Melanoma Awareness? It makes me a little sad, but was I sufficiently aware of melanoma before it became the catalyst of my everyday life? No. It was just another disease that hit other people, other families. Not mine. Not me. Was I careful in the sun? No. I'm from the generation of laying out on the lawn on a blinding white sheet (to capture more sun rays) and rubbing myself from head to toe with baby oil (again, to capture more of that elusive sun). None of that sunscreen for me. I was too fair, too white, and I wanted to be brown as a berry (are berries brown?). Was I a sun "worshiper"? No. I just wanted to look good in a pair of shorts and not have to wear foundation makeup in the hot summer months. Did I ever have a severe sunburn? Yes. Probably about once a summer, on the first good scorching day. I've had blisters and peeling and all of that good stuff. Did I ever sunburn the top of my head? Of course. I was a girl of the 70s, with long hair parted straight down the middle - I'm sure there was a bright red streak down that fair white part at least once. Who knows when that turned into this? I'll probably never know.
Am I afraid to go out in the sun now? A little bit. I bought some 70 SPF sunscreen the other day. I also bought a hat, a big-brimmed hat, for those days I hope to go walking around my neighborhood soon. And though I'll do all I can to protect myself from another sunburn, I know enough about melanoma now to realize that it's not just caused by the sun. Dr. Grossmann told me that little children who have never been exposed to a sunburn have developed melanoma. He also told me that melanoma can be found between your TOES - how weird is that? It's just a strange, crazy, mean disease that charges in and unpacks its suitcase and plops itself down in your cells. But, certainly, more people would be allowed to keep their innocence and never have to go through biopsies and surgeries and radiation and chemo and life-changing scenarios if they are more careful in the sun and check their skin regularly.
I knew all about regular breast exams and mammograms. I knew about colonoscopies after the age of 50. I knew about lung cancer and prostate cancer and brain tumors and all sorts of other bad guys. I knew to watch the moles I could see for any changes. But, I didn't know that the average person should have a full body screening by a dermatologist for skin cancer and melanoma. That spot on top of my head was well hidden, identified only by Dr. Robison as he combed through every hair on my scalp. I never would have seen it. Maybe if it had been caught last year or the year before...
There's no going back. What's done is done. But, if just one person finds out more about melanoma today than they knew yesterday, it's all worth it. If my family can be protected from this wicked disease in any way, it's worth it. If just one person goes in for a check-up, it's worth it. If a cure can be found through all of the suffering, so that none of my precious grands have to worry about melanoma, it's worth it. If we can all be aware, what a difference it would make in the world - especially in the little world I live in now...
Am I afraid to go out in the sun now? A little bit. I bought some 70 SPF sunscreen the other day. I also bought a hat, a big-brimmed hat, for those days I hope to go walking around my neighborhood soon. And though I'll do all I can to protect myself from another sunburn, I know enough about melanoma now to realize that it's not just caused by the sun. Dr. Grossmann told me that little children who have never been exposed to a sunburn have developed melanoma. He also told me that melanoma can be found between your TOES - how weird is that? It's just a strange, crazy, mean disease that charges in and unpacks its suitcase and plops itself down in your cells. But, certainly, more people would be allowed to keep their innocence and never have to go through biopsies and surgeries and radiation and chemo and life-changing scenarios if they are more careful in the sun and check their skin regularly.
I knew all about regular breast exams and mammograms. I knew about colonoscopies after the age of 50. I knew about lung cancer and prostate cancer and brain tumors and all sorts of other bad guys. I knew to watch the moles I could see for any changes. But, I didn't know that the average person should have a full body screening by a dermatologist for skin cancer and melanoma. That spot on top of my head was well hidden, identified only by Dr. Robison as he combed through every hair on my scalp. I never would have seen it. Maybe if it had been caught last year or the year before...
There's no going back. What's done is done. But, if just one person finds out more about melanoma today than they knew yesterday, it's all worth it. If my family can be protected from this wicked disease in any way, it's worth it. If just one person goes in for a check-up, it's worth it. If a cure can be found through all of the suffering, so that none of my precious grands have to worry about melanoma, it's worth it. If we can all be aware, what a difference it would make in the world - especially in the little world I live in now...
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