Beautiful Day

Graduation Day!

I had my last chemo infusion on Friday and I feel fantastic!! I have only felt queasy a few times so I don’t want to take my medications, but my mom is making me anyway. It is so fantastic to know that I am finished with chemo, finished with shots, nearly finished with all the nastiness that chemo offers, and ready to flush tons of pills down the toilet. Since January I have taken about 360 pills (not including my vitamin D and salmon oil supplements, fiber pills, antibiotics, or the 2-180 pill bottles of Tylenol PM, or the 24 shots to boost white blood cells!) I am so ready to be done being a pill popper and just go back to my vitamins.

While in Seattle I stayed again with my friends Anne and Jeremy which has become my home away from home while undergoing chemo. I love their giant Great Dane Sirus, as well as their lovely and slobbering blind 10 year old mastiff; Bava (means drool in Italian.) Anne actually called the guest room, “your room,” on Friday. It does feel like my room and I love staying in their cute little house that they have poured their blood and sweat into renovating. Jeremy is a wonderful chef and Anne’s laugh can put a smile on anyone’s face. Anne took the day off work to go with me to get chemo and she stood guard as I curled up and took a 30 minute nap in the radiation waiting room between my chemo infusion and my planning appointment for radiation. She was also my official photographer for my graduation day happily taking pictures of me with my oncologist and proudly holding my chemo diploma. I feel lucky to have so many friends in Seattle that I’ve had the chance to go to dinner with, share my chemo day with, and allow me to stay in their house. I am really looking forward to being down in Seattle for a month so I will have more of a chance to see my friends and family.

Dr. Malpass (my oncologist) Truly a man with a heart of gold!

During my preliminary radiation appointment, they fitted me for my “cast.” It was a plastic-like apparatus that they got wet and then molded over my face. They then bolted it to the table and I was trapped. They performed a CAT scan on me while the cast dried. I can’t say I liked it, and in my chemo induced state, I think I remember Anne asking me something about what happened if I there was an earthquake and I was bolted in. Maybe I was just imagining that part, but I have a faint recollection of her asking me that question. It was the type of question Anne would ask since she’s a civil engineer who designs bridges to withstand earthquakes. I was also given a tattoo that is about the size of a pin head. They said they’ll give me more when I come back on the 21st of June. I've actually been wanting to get another tattoo, but little blue/black dots up and down my chest are not exactly what I had in mind.

My Spittin' Image

My mom and I have been talking about our “move” to Seattle starting on the 20th of June and ending sometime around July 22nd. We’re lucky to be staying in a lovely condo provided by my friend Nicholle. Anne is letting us borrow all sorts of baby things so we don’t need to pack extra stuff and I’m preparing the “Honey Do” list for Addison (mostly reminding him not to let the garden and all my flowers die of dehydration.) I’m also trying to get my opera job in order and get things done before I leave, even though I’ll be working from Seattle. I’ve been very lucky that my opera job has been so flexible; all my board members are incredibly understanding and really stepped in to help when needed.

Right now I am counting down the days until I can resume eating the off limit food items. Doctors recommend that people undergoing chemo don’t eat undercooked meat, runny eggs, raw veggies, or moldy cheeses (the lack of blue cheese in my diet is really getting the best of me!) I haven’t been perfect in following the rules, but I’ve been careful, especially when it comes to the cheese and undercooked meats. In a few weeks, I can’t wait to sink my teeth into a medium rare cut of meat and cambozola. Yummy! Oh, and I haven’t been drinking either, so my martini with an olive stuffed with blue cheese will have to accompany my steak. I can’t wait!

I Will

My Aunt Pat died Monday of ovarian cancer. She died on my mother’s birthday. I had a feeling this would happen, a strange premonition that my mom’s little sister would leave us on my mom’s birthday. My mom’s response was quite composed and through her tears she said, “This way she could be with me today.” Strong words that I wouldn’t have been able to muster up.

Aunt Pat had been fighting her cancer for three years. She’d undergone chemo on three different occasions and at one time, her doctors thought she was a miracle for kicking all the cancer out of her body when it had at one time been so incredibly advanced they thought she’d never recover. She was a fighter. My aunt kept her amazing sense of humor throughout all her treatments. She made other cancer patients laugh and get through difficult times, including me.

The first time I met my aunt I was in 4th grade. She was living in Lake Tahoe at the time and my parents left me with her while they attended fish expo. I was nervous about being left with someone I didn’t know, but she quickly learned the way to my heart was through my stomach and started feeding me. She made the most amazing enchilada sauce that we dipped fried chicken in. Fried chicken and enchilada sauce sounds like a totally weird combination, but let me tell you, it was amazing. After she fed me, we watched the Wizard of Oz. She was amazed I’d never seen it, and to this day, I still haven’t seen the whole thing because we ended up talking the entire time the movie was on so I didn’t pay attention to the movie.

There’s a part of me that doesn’t feel like celebrating to the level I should be because it’s hard to celebrate me being cancer free when I just had an aunt die of it, but my aunt would not like that. In her honor, not only will I kick cancer’s ass and tell it that it has no business ever screwing with my family ever again, I will make her fried chicken and enchilada sauce recipe. She would like that.

Poker Face

It’s my last day of receiving chemo in Juneau! Definitely a day to celebrate, but it was hard to get too excited this morning as I tried to get out of the house. I had hoped to get things done last night in preparation for today, but all hell broke out when Aurelia ate a plant leaf and I had to call poison control. Then I developed a migraine so all pre-plans got pushed to this morning. To say our morning was slightly chaotic would be an understatement. Lena went to bed at 10 and woke up at 6 am. Aurelia went to bed at 11 and joined her sister at 6 am. This does not make for hapapy girlies. Aurelia peed through her diaper and jammies and her sheets needed to be changed first thing. I was running around the house trying to get all my work done that needs to be done before checking out for the next four days. Chillcat was flying from wall to wall attacking anyone that dare cross his path. Addison was trying to pack for his bear hunt because he leaves tomorrow AM. My mom who flew in last night was trying to recover from Chillcat scratching her neck and pouncing on her face while she slept resulting in her eyes turning red and bulging out. Meanwhile, Yasha hid like an ostrich with her head under our bed and the rest of her body sheepishly sticking out. Yasha knows when to stay out of the way and remove herself from the chaos. I wish I could stick my head under the bed on certain days and just let the world around me spin out of control.

My last chemo treatment was the worst. I felt sick from the moment I walked into the hospital. I saw Dr. Urata this week because Dr. Fisher is out of town. He suggested I take one of my anti-anxiety pills before going into the hospital and that should help with the feeling of wanting to ralph every time my port is flushed. Tamara is also going to wait a bit longer before starting the chemo and let my anti-nausea meds kick in. We’ll see how it goes this weekend. I am going to try to stay on top of my anti-nausea med and keep a very positive attitude.

I am looking forward to being near the end of the finish line, but there is something holding me back from jumping up and down and running across it, and that’s my Aunt Pat.

I mentioned previously that my Aunt Patti has ovarian cancer. She has done a remarkable job fighting it for years, but right about the time my cancer was diagnosed, hers came back, more aggressive than ever. Aunt Patti is such a fighter that she refuses to give up, her will to live is incredibly strong which is why she didn’t die a few years ago. But sometimes a person’s will to live is trumped by the reality of the situation. The surgeons have said they will no longer operate on her. The doctor has said she will no longer be getting chemo. They removed her food tube. She has now requested to leave the hospital and go home where she can be in comfort. I don’t want to use the word die in comfort because Aunt Pat is still not giving in. Her body may fail her and give in to the cancer, but she never will. I admire that type of courage. She’s been drinking milkshakes lately, so she is allowed some happiness throughout her day. We’re kind of just waiting. It could be days, it could be weeks. Months are optimistic.

Yes, it’s hard to celebrate me being near the end of being sick when someone I care about is near her end. It’s such a crap shoot who will be given a treatable cancer, who will be given a cancer that stays in remission for a long time, and who will be given a cancer that kills them only after a few years. It’s a shot in the dark who will live and who will die. A man my exact age has been getting chemo treatments for sarcoma on many of the days I get treated here at Bartlett. He died two weeks ago.
Until my diagnoses, I only knew 8 people who had cancer 2 are still with us, 5 have left us, and 1 is hanging on as hard as she can hang. Since being diagnosed, my number of encounters of people who have cancer has spun out of control, especially those I know on a personal level. I’ve got Wendy, a childhood friend who has a rare form of melanoma and they’ve given her anywhere from 2 months to an unknown amount of years for it to possibly come back. Then there’s Brynn who has Non-Hodgkin’s, another terminal cancer. My pen-pal Eve in Georgia who I was introduced to by a mutual friend when she found out we both had Hodgkin’s. Eve is cancer free now and done with all her treatments! And lastly, there’s my friend James’s little five year boy old who has been fighting a terminal sarcoma cancer since he was 18 months old. That boy has been through so much chemo that it’s amazing they know his actual hair color is practically neon orange, just like his daddy’s. I didn’t even touch on all the people I meet every two weeks as I come in to get my infusions. I guess my point is, it’s everywhere and no one is immune no matter how safe you play it.

So I don’t really know where I’m going on this. I am super high right now as I’ve been given more meds than I usually take to combat the nausea. I guess I just don’t understand how the cards are dealt in situations like these. For a child to get cancer has got to be one of the cruelest and crappiest deals ever. For brides about to get married, for mothers with young kids, for pregnant ladies, for fathers, brothers, grandfathers, and grandmothers….it’s all the same.

To my mother’s regret and sadness, I’ve never liked gambling because I think it’s a waste of time and money. (My mother is a slot machine queen!) I don’t like it because you never know what cards you’re going to be dealt, so I like to hold my money in my pocket, spend my money on a fancy meal, and watch others take the gamble.

Unfortunately in life, you don’t always have that option of not taking a gamble. So when you’re forced into playing the game, you might as well just stay coy and put your game face on. My Aunt Pat has been my role model for this whole thing. Even though she was dealt one of the worst cancers she could have been dealt, she has remained strong for those around her, wearing her poker face proudly and encouraging other cancer patients to do the same. She’ll do it till the day she dies, even though inside behind the face, she’s already lost the game.

My infusion chair for all my infusions at Bartlett. It wasn't nearly as deary as it looks.

The girls wait for me outside the hosptial.

My infusion nurse Tamara. She is amazing! We both got teary-eyed saying our goodbyes.

Only A Dream

I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. I don’t have insomnia like I had before, but instead; I’m having restless nights of sleep. I’ve been having the most stressful dreams.

The first dream I had took place at my friend Cristina’s wedding. Instead of getting married on her lavender farm (which is what she’s actually doing) she decided to get married on a river boat sailing the Rogue River. I had the girls with me and I was also a bridesmaid, so I was juggling a few balls. On top of it, I got incredibly drunk, lost the girls, and somehow my cat Chillcat got on board and peed on Cristina’s wedding dress. You’re laughing now, but I can assure it, it wasn’t funny while it was happening.

The next night I dreamed that my friend Penny and I were on our cruise. (I haven’t talked about that yet, but I will below.) Anyway, we were boarding the ship and our families came to wish us bon voyage and the next thing we know, our husbands left and ditched us with the kids (in real life- we’re going sans kiddos.) The next thing I know, I’m off to find our cabin and when I open the door, I am thrilled to see it is much larger than the inside, lowest level, no window, economy cabin we actually booked. Instead, it is huge, has a balcony, and even a wet bar. The only problem is; it doubles as the ship’s Gap clothing store so people are continually going through our room to buy clothes.

Both these dreams rival the Brendan Fraser dream I had about a year ago where I was once again drunk and dressed like an orca whale, flying on an Alaskan Airlines flight having to pose as a stewardess so I could get home. Seeing as it was my first time meeting Brendan Fraser, he was not impressed by the fact that I was drunk, nor that my orca tail kept hitting him as I walked down the aisle serving people.

Sigh…

So, needless to say, these dreams have left me exhausted.

About this cruise. It all started when I thought it would be great for Penny and me to fly down south when this whole thing is over and see the Indigo Girls live in concert. Unfortunately, they have nothing booked on the west coast over the course of the next year, but they were doing this thing called “Cayamo” in February of 2011. It is a cruise on a cruise ship in the Caribbean with loads of musicians, including the Indigo Girls. It’s not your normal cruise, musicians such as Patty Griffin, Steve Earl, John Prine and numerous others are going to be on it, and every night, you get to see them in concert while during the day, they’re out mingling with the cruisers. I told Penny about it and she said we had to do it. After much hemming and hawing (mostly wishing and consulting with Addison,) I decided that one of the things having cancer has taught me, it’s to enjoy my life, enjoy my family, and enjoy my friends. Penny was my travel partner for two months as we backpacked around Europe in 1999 so we’re well attuned to each other’s traveling traits. I’m the plan-ahead mother hen and she’s the free spirited wild card, its how our friendship works and it works great while traveling. Since high school, she’s always been the one to get us on the edge of trouble, and I’m the one to get us out of it. It keeps things fun and interesting and I can’t wait to see what happens on our cruise. Taking a vacation like this with Penny is normally something I would only wish and dream about, so it’s really exciting to see this wish come true. And it doesn’t stop there. I am happy to say that Addison and the girls and I are planning a trip to Hawaii in March! I can’t wait to see the girls play in the sand while Addison surfs the waves. They’ve been through just as much as me the past few months, and they deserve some fun in the sun too. It seems a bit insane to take two frivolous vacations less than two months apart, but we’d been saving for a Hawaiian vacation for a few years, so I’m stoked we’re finally doing it!

Speaking of dreams and wishes, I told Addison that I know my cancer was never at the point of life threatening, and I know I’m not a young child, but it still would have been cool to be granted a wish through The Make A Wish Foundation. What would that wish be? My wish would be to be a guest judge on Iron Chef America- as long as their secret ingredient wasn’t sardines.

I'd Rather Press On

I’m still living off the high of being cancer free because each day, I run into someone who doesn’t know and I get to share the good news. The most recent trip was to Valley Medical. I’ve come to know lots of the nurses and the receptionist; they all know me by name and always ask how I’m doing. On Wednesday and Thursday I kept seeing them in the medical center and sharing my good news. They all were elated and said things like, “that just made the rest of my day!” One of the receptionist who I have a great fondness for actually came out from behind the counter and gave me a huge hug with tears in her eyes (she’s a young mom too and we used to attend the same camp in Haines as kids.)

I never get sick of sharing the good news. However, that doesn’t mean I’m not getting sick. Each chemo treatment is hitting me harder and harder.
Have you ever gotten sick and then you can’t stand the taste or smell of the last thing you ate? For me it’s Cambell’s chicken noodle soup and roast beef sandwiches on white bread. In 7th grade, that was the last thing I ate before coming down with a terrible stomach bug that had me puking for days. I also can’t go near Tequila anymore thanks to an entire pint glass and my friend Dave Rubin. (I shouldn’t blame Dave, he handed me the cup for a “sip” and I drank the entire pint. C’est la vie.)

The same now goes for chemo. Brynn was saying the other day that every time she gets near Swedish hospital, her stomach turns. I completely agree with her. For me it’s not only driving by Bartlett or Virginia Mason, it’s also the clothes I put on. Every other Friday, I put on the same camisole. I call it my chemo camisole because it’s easy for the nurse to access the port when I wear it. My stomach turns when I look at it. I think I’m going to burn it after my last treatment.

There are a few other things that set me off too. The rubbing alcohol that is used to sterilize my skin before accessing my port is nasty. I actually have gag reflexes at the smell. I hold a candle up to my nose and try to smell the candle instead, but the rubbing alcohol is so potent, it permeates my nostrils and makes me want to run for the bathroom. The other thing that is truly disgusting is saline solution. They use it to flush my port to make sure it’s clear and getting proper blood flow. But get this; I can taste it in my mouth when they flush it! It is the most disgusting taste and smell ever. It’s very odd to think that there are veins in my chest that carry the taste up to my mouth, a taste even Jolly Ranchers can’t mask.

My mom flew in Thursday night to get me through this next treatment. She’s going to bounce back and forth between here and Ketchikan this month. I’ve been really lucky to have her and previously Addi’s mom around. I know Lena has especially enjoyed having grandma time. My mom came loaded with fresh lingcod that my dad just caught and frozen lumpia that she made. I’m going to have to wait until after this weekend to eat these items as I don’t want my favorite foods to become one of the off limits list later.

I was told with each chemo treatment it gets harder, and boy is that true. The day of chemo is proving to be the hardest. I came home at 2 PM and didn’t move from my bed until 3:40 AM. For the past two nights, Lena has been concerned about me and has snuggled in a bit after dinnertime and has slept all night with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lena announced one day she’s going to be a tu-tu wielding doctor, nurse or veterinarian. She toted her vet’s kit to the veterinarian office the other day and impressed Dr. New as she assisted in giving Yasha her exam.

I found out great news the other day. Remember my friend Brock who is running the Team In Training marathon to raise money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of Canada? He is running the race to honor his friends and family who have had or are currently battling Leukemia/Lymphoma, and I’m one of the ones he’s honoring! Originally, he was going to run the race in San Diego, but serendipitously changed his location to Seattle and it just happened to be the time I’m there getting my radiation! I am going to be able to be there to cheer him on and I couldn’t be more excited. He’s very close to his fundraising goal, so if you want to pitch in to make it happen, visit this link: http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=813208. I can’t wait to stand behind that finish line and see Brock cross! Brock is also the person who is going to run my first marathon with me in August of 2011. It will be a great moment.

I have two more chemo treatments left, thank goodness! I really see why people quit and just say enough is enough. Because I'm really starting to hate chemo. But in the beginning, I said I wouldn't give up and I'd do whatever I had to do to get better. So I will keep doing this. I want to make a shirt that says, “Chemo Grad May 2010” to wear to my last chemo appointment on the 28th. I can’t wait for chemo to be behind me. Can’t friggin’ wait!