You know I'm alright now.
Some lyrics from one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands, Chicago.
The song is talking about a relationship. I am talking about my health. Chicago is one of those bands that I can relate to a handful of their songs.
Right after my diagnosis, I felt very isolated; with good reason. Sometimes 10 days would go by without me leaving my house. It was the dead of winter which is not my favorite season when I feel 100%. I was still very overwhelmed, out of my element, not following any type of routine.
Those who know me know that I thrive on routine...they know how much I love to have a plan. Simple things that I didn't even realize I was missing were part of my routine that had gone by the wayside.
Music. Every day I listen to music. It's rare that music fails to pull me out of a foul mood. My music collection is vast, my musical taste is eclectic. There are few types of music that I do not like. Part of my daily routine includes listening to my collection on iTunes in my car during my commute. Chemo stole my immune system so my commute to work went from 9 miles one way to the 25 steps from my bedroom to the dining room table. It took several weeks working from home before I realized what was missing...the MUSIC.
I got a bluetooth wireless speaker last Christmas as a gift and had set it aside. Once I realized I needed my music again, it became part of my office set up. When the music returned, my sense of isolation lessened. I also started venturing out more. I went back to my voice lessons...they're better than therapy; although if you cannot sing, maybe not. I actually chose a new song based on something I heard during my new routine.
One day at my desking room table, my iPhone chose this song and the lyrics struck me even more than normal because I was FEELING STRONGER EVERY DAY. Some time between treatment 2 and 3, it was true. It was then I almost started dreading my treatments because of the few days when I felt like I had been hit by a tour bus.
This summer we went to see Chicago at Ravinia. In my mind Ravinia was built for a band like Chicago but ironically enough, it was only a couple of years ago when the band made their first appearance at this serene venue. I smiled when Feeling Stronger Every Day played and sang the lyrics as if I was a back up singer. By then I knew I was alright now. :-)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpzjbJKR85I
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Monday, October 12, 2015
Warrior
During my journey this year, my sister called me a warrior. I'll be the first to admit that at the beginning, I didn't feel much like a warrior. Let's be honest, the first couple of days after my diagnosis, I was tired, scared and overwhelmed. I will say I was surrounded by warriors though.
My general practitioner Dr. Tina Blachut--she sent me to the emergency room so that I could get a confirming CT scan immediately rather than wait over a weekend for the grim diagnosis. She also sat with me while I collected myself after hearing the first suggestion that what I had might be more than a simple stomach ailment.
My Mom--who in spite of battling the flu was a steadying voice on the drive from the doctor's office to the emergency room. She also rounded up several more members of my army as I like to call them so I didn't have to sit in the ER alone.
My aunts Rita and Mary (aka ReeRee and Mar)--they sat with me in the ER while I cracked nervous jokes, harassed unsuspecting ER doctors and tried to keep my sister out of the trees via text. They also helped with the beagle that first day and ReeRee was my afternoon companion at chemo who brought lunch and an extra pair of ears for visits with my oncologist. Mar kept my email filled with encouragement though chemo.
My hubby Chris who got to deal with my diagnosis the same day he buried his best friend and did it with grace and strength and humor. I also honestly think he spent the first few weeks watching me sleep. He also worked full time and did everything around the house while I rested and then still did most things as my strength came back, encouraging me to save my strength for my battle.
My sister Carrie who blew up my phone that afternoon in the ER craving information that at first I didn't have and then didn't want to share and then buckled down to be my biggest cheerleader during chemo in spite of her fears and the memory of her mother in law's battle fresh in her mind. Our chemo trips were fun if you can call a chemo trip fun. We never did play cards but we fought the good fight in that tiny room at Res. She also completely gets the rational v. irrational brain thing and kept the "smalls" healthy so Auntie could see them regularly during her journey.
My niece and nephew Joey and Juli; "the smalls"...reminding me to wear my contacts when out in public and keeping me supplied with beautiful artwork and strong hugs.
My brother in law Joe who texted often and kept me laughing; although mostly at myself or the Narwhals; god help me. Some days I think I was reassuring him as much as he was reassuring me.
My oncologist Dr. Mark Karides...who rocks, whether he's wrenching tissue out of my hip for a biopsy, yelling at my insurance company or delivering those sweet words "cancer free".
My oncology nurse Sue who answered the 59302757293 questions I had at treatment and gave me lots of tips and tricks to ward off the lovely side effects and after effects of the poison we were pumping into my body.
My friends and family who prayed, cooked, sewed, sent cards, letters and emails, stopped in, sent hugs and blankets and treats and flowers. Some friends I've never even met. I was and continue to be humbled by your love and support.
So you see, I wasn't a warrior fighting alone. I had an army of warriors behind me, next to me, surrounding me. I learned very quickly that on days when I didn't feel strong, I could lean on others. On the days I felt strong, I could share my victories!
One day not quite halfway through treatment I was practicing yoga in my family room...warrior is one of my favorite poses. You can feel the strength coursing through your legs as you hold warrior. My body was weak from the meds and from weeks of inactivity but as I held the pose and my legs started to tremble, I focused and held it a few seconds longer and at that moment, I knew I would win this battle and that my strength would return, my hair would grow back, my scars would heal because I was a WARRIOR; it's a mindset, not just a pose.
My general practitioner Dr. Tina Blachut--she sent me to the emergency room so that I could get a confirming CT scan immediately rather than wait over a weekend for the grim diagnosis. She also sat with me while I collected myself after hearing the first suggestion that what I had might be more than a simple stomach ailment.
My Mom--who in spite of battling the flu was a steadying voice on the drive from the doctor's office to the emergency room. She also rounded up several more members of my army as I like to call them so I didn't have to sit in the ER alone.
My aunts Rita and Mary (aka ReeRee and Mar)--they sat with me in the ER while I cracked nervous jokes, harassed unsuspecting ER doctors and tried to keep my sister out of the trees via text. They also helped with the beagle that first day and ReeRee was my afternoon companion at chemo who brought lunch and an extra pair of ears for visits with my oncologist. Mar kept my email filled with encouragement though chemo.
My hubby Chris who got to deal with my diagnosis the same day he buried his best friend and did it with grace and strength and humor. I also honestly think he spent the first few weeks watching me sleep. He also worked full time and did everything around the house while I rested and then still did most things as my strength came back, encouraging me to save my strength for my battle.
My sister Carrie who blew up my phone that afternoon in the ER craving information that at first I didn't have and then didn't want to share and then buckled down to be my biggest cheerleader during chemo in spite of her fears and the memory of her mother in law's battle fresh in her mind. Our chemo trips were fun if you can call a chemo trip fun. We never did play cards but we fought the good fight in that tiny room at Res. She also completely gets the rational v. irrational brain thing and kept the "smalls" healthy so Auntie could see them regularly during her journey.
My niece and nephew Joey and Juli; "the smalls"...reminding me to wear my contacts when out in public and keeping me supplied with beautiful artwork and strong hugs.
My brother in law Joe who texted often and kept me laughing; although mostly at myself or the Narwhals; god help me. Some days I think I was reassuring him as much as he was reassuring me.
My oncologist Dr. Mark Karides...who rocks, whether he's wrenching tissue out of my hip for a biopsy, yelling at my insurance company or delivering those sweet words "cancer free".
My oncology nurse Sue who answered the 59302757293 questions I had at treatment and gave me lots of tips and tricks to ward off the lovely side effects and after effects of the poison we were pumping into my body.
My friends and family who prayed, cooked, sewed, sent cards, letters and emails, stopped in, sent hugs and blankets and treats and flowers. Some friends I've never even met. I was and continue to be humbled by your love and support.
So you see, I wasn't a warrior fighting alone. I had an army of warriors behind me, next to me, surrounding me. I learned very quickly that on days when I didn't feel strong, I could lean on others. On the days I felt strong, I could share my victories!
One day not quite halfway through treatment I was practicing yoga in my family room...warrior is one of my favorite poses. You can feel the strength coursing through your legs as you hold warrior. My body was weak from the meds and from weeks of inactivity but as I held the pose and my legs started to tremble, I focused and held it a few seconds longer and at that moment, I knew I would win this battle and that my strength would return, my hair would grow back, my scars would heal because I was a WARRIOR; it's a mindset, not just a pose.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
The Beagle Knows
We own a beagle. 6 years ago yesterday was her "gotcha" day. We celebrate it as her birthday. She has a bag full of treats and toys and I have heard a rumor that Chris bought her something on his trip to Arizona this week. She's not spoiled though.
We got her at a local shelter. She knew she wanted to go home with us. We had been to a couple of places and weren't sure what we were looking for. I think honestly Chris wanted a bigger dog. He seemed interested in a yellow lab named Calvin. I walked along the row of cages looking for the the source of the noise...rhythmic thumping. This teeny beagle was wagging her tail so hard it was banging on the walls of the cage. We asked to see her and she won us over. She knew that she would rule the roost here and she does. It's her house; Chris and I just live here and pay the bills. The beagle knows.
The beagle is afraid of loud noises. It's possible that she was bred to be a hunting dog but was probably afraid of the gunshots so useless in the woods and she was either dumped or ran away. Another possibility is that she got spooked in a storm and ran. She was found on the street in Joliet and transferred up to Animal Care League In Oak Park. To keep her calm during storms (or the week surrounding the 4th of July) we've tried holding her, soft music, a thundershirt, muscle relaxers, Benadryl...the list goes on and on. We do our best to make sure that she is comfortable and has been out recently when a storm approaches. Her favorite place is under our bed. It's safe and warm (or cool depending on the season) there and as long as the house never gets struck by lightning, it's the best hiding place ever. The beagle knows
The beagle is a mooch. She begs for food, even if it's food she doesn't like. She will unleash her cuteness and try to fleece you for your meat, your eggs, your candy, your cookies, your watermelon, your mushrooms, your string cheese...sometimes we give her what she's begging for and she realizes that perhaps, it wasn't what she really wanted and it gets deposited on the floor. The beagle knows...what she likes.
The beagle likes to sleep...on the floor, on the couch, on a chair, under the bed...you get the idea. Her favorite place is ON the bed...on Chris' pillow...or on my pillow, or between us with all of the blankets underneath her and both of the humans in the bed freezing. The beagle knows.
The beagle glued herself to my side this past fall and winter. As my health deteriorated, she stuck with me. If I napped, she laid with me. When I went to bed, she'd curl up next to me always touching me on the right side. Before I got sick, she'd come to bed with me (read Chris would carry her in) and we'd read; the beagle is a fan of mysteries. I would turn off my reading lamp and she would trot out to watch TV with Chris. Looking back, when I started feeling symptoms, she started staying in the bed with me after lights out. Once I started chemo, she'd stay in bed with me. When I was working from home, she shared the "office" with me; often sleeping where she could keep a paw on me.
After my third chemo we scheduled a scan. The week before the scan, the beagle started leaving my side when I turned my reading lamp off and heading out to watch TV with Chris. My scan after 3 chemo treatments was clean.
The beagle knows.
We got her at a local shelter. She knew she wanted to go home with us. We had been to a couple of places and weren't sure what we were looking for. I think honestly Chris wanted a bigger dog. He seemed interested in a yellow lab named Calvin. I walked along the row of cages looking for the the source of the noise...rhythmic thumping. This teeny beagle was wagging her tail so hard it was banging on the walls of the cage. We asked to see her and she won us over. She knew that she would rule the roost here and she does. It's her house; Chris and I just live here and pay the bills. The beagle knows.
The beagle is afraid of loud noises. It's possible that she was bred to be a hunting dog but was probably afraid of the gunshots so useless in the woods and she was either dumped or ran away. Another possibility is that she got spooked in a storm and ran. She was found on the street in Joliet and transferred up to Animal Care League In Oak Park. To keep her calm during storms (or the week surrounding the 4th of July) we've tried holding her, soft music, a thundershirt, muscle relaxers, Benadryl...the list goes on and on. We do our best to make sure that she is comfortable and has been out recently when a storm approaches. Her favorite place is under our bed. It's safe and warm (or cool depending on the season) there and as long as the house never gets struck by lightning, it's the best hiding place ever. The beagle knows
The beagle is a mooch. She begs for food, even if it's food she doesn't like. She will unleash her cuteness and try to fleece you for your meat, your eggs, your candy, your cookies, your watermelon, your mushrooms, your string cheese...sometimes we give her what she's begging for and she realizes that perhaps, it wasn't what she really wanted and it gets deposited on the floor. The beagle knows...what she likes.
The beagle likes to sleep...on the floor, on the couch, on a chair, under the bed...you get the idea. Her favorite place is ON the bed...on Chris' pillow...or on my pillow, or between us with all of the blankets underneath her and both of the humans in the bed freezing. The beagle knows.
The beagle glued herself to my side this past fall and winter. As my health deteriorated, she stuck with me. If I napped, she laid with me. When I went to bed, she'd curl up next to me always touching me on the right side. Before I got sick, she'd come to bed with me (read Chris would carry her in) and we'd read; the beagle is a fan of mysteries. I would turn off my reading lamp and she would trot out to watch TV with Chris. Looking back, when I started feeling symptoms, she started staying in the bed with me after lights out. Once I started chemo, she'd stay in bed with me. When I was working from home, she shared the "office" with me; often sleeping where she could keep a paw on me.
After my third chemo we scheduled a scan. The week before the scan, the beagle started leaving my side when I turned my reading lamp off and heading out to watch TV with Chris. My scan after 3 chemo treatments was clean.
The beagle knows.
Clean Scan
Apparently I am remiss in sharing good news.
My scan at the end of August was clean. Bloodwork was PERFECT.
I have a blood test in December and will have another scan in the spring.
My scan at the end of August was clean. Bloodwork was PERFECT.
I have a blood test in December and will have another scan in the spring.
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