I'm awake because I slept through chemo and most of the evening until 1:45 am. When I came home from chemo I went straight for a long, hot soak in the tub. I paused only to turn on my heated blanket and pre-heat my heating pad. As soon as I was done I crawled into my heated cocoon and slept.
The kids came and gave me good night kisses and tried to read bedtime stories near me, but I was barely able to stay awake for books...
Geoff was still up cleaning when I woke up at 1:45. I think he said he was doing some laundry and starting the dishwasher, but when he heard me up he immediately switched gears. He made me food and we watched a couple episodes of a series we have been cramming in off netflix. Then he crashed.
Now I wish I were asleep because morning will be here all too soon, but I'm wide awake and all too aware of all things I've been pondering blogging about this week...
First of all, the major debate courtesy of the New York Times (and the Guardian, though I didn't actually read that article myself befor it was removed) about the mother with stage 4 breast cancer that shares her experience with cancer publicly via her twitter account. For those of you that haven't heard about this, it's been a topic of discussion this week on NPR, and the cancer world. Essentially there are people who feel that in order to "battle cancer gracefully" you need to do it quietly without the use of social media.
Of course, I'm going to guess that all of you can figure out my bias on this debate. I have heard these arguments before, even amongst our own families. It annoys me and while I'm wholeheartedly supportive of everyone being entitled to their own opinion, I'm also wholeheartedly supportive of everyone handling these delicate situations in whatever manner they are most comfortable.
I started this blog as a means to update everyone. I hate being bombarded with phone calls, text messages, emails, etc. asking for updates. I thought this would be an easy way for everyone to find out how I'm doing on their own time and to their own level of commitment. Before I was even done with my first post I realized it was also therapeutic for me and a great way to share my journey. I've said it many times before, most of my friends haven't had cancer and many of them have been fortunate enough to not have been through with a close relative (yet). I say yet because statistically speaking many of you will go through a cancer journey with someone else close eventually. My blog is a way for me to share my experience and maybe help someone else in the process.
It annoys me that there is a large debate about whether what I am doing is inappropriate. This is what helps me and how I chose to handle my situation. Same with the mother with breast cancer. If someone else chooses to be more private and forgo social media, good for them.
Geoff and I have had lengthy discussions about this topic this week because it has frustrated both of us. We are in agreement and we both see how much this blog has helped me/us. It's helped me communicate, process, and somewhat most importantly, share. We know this blog has allowed others glimpses into our lives and we are ok with that. In many ways it has made us closer to people who have gotten to know us.
I'm assuming that if you are reading this, you are somewhat of a similar opinion on all of this to us. If you disagree, then simply don't read. Please don't tell me that you think what I'm doing is wrong. For me it is right. For Geoff it is right...and for our kids, who someday may need the rumblings of this blog as a means to get to know their mother better, this blog is right.
So moving on...this week cancer took someone near and dear to my heart. He was someone I met through Gilda's house. I'm not sure I played any significant role in his journey, but for me, he that person that found a way to bring both inspiration and comic relief to the whole horror of cancer. The first time I met him he had just come back from backpacking in the Appalachian mountains despite all he had been going through and I was blown away. He was hugely supportive of my own adventures with surf camp and baby catching.
The nurse in me watched him declining. I told Geoff a few weeks ago what I saw happening and that it was going to be really hard for me, but I wasn't expecting it yet...that's how it goes though, doesn't it? No amount of time would have made it easier and I'm glad he is no longer "feeling like a shark is gnawing away at his side (how he described his cancer pain)." Of course I wish I could give him one last hand squeeze (a Gilda's thing) or a hug, but what I've really been craving is to violently punch cancer in the face...right between the eyes...if only it were that easy.
Ok, I have to be honest, I want to punch cancer a few times...once for my friend, once for me, and once for another friend who has a family member once again dealing with cancer shit.
Family members...that was the next thing that has almost sent me blogging this week. I have a myriad of friends who have family members going through health care crisis this week and it's hard being on the other side...being the person waiting for updates and praying that everyone is going to be alright. I've wanted to fix it all for them and I feel so powerless. It's hard to be on the other side too, and that didn't escape me this week.
Speaking of crisis...Geoff, and I came home Wednesday evening from taking Ella to the ortho MD for her finger recheck (all clear though she is going to eventually loose her nail...poor baby!) and picking up E to find one of our cats sprawled out on the tile floor in out kitchen. Xochi (pronounced so-chi) is our most skittish, and vocal cat. I came in the house, saw him and instantly knew something was wrong. He lifted his head, looked at me and then just stayed where he was...right in front of a heat vent. I picked him up and he was limp. Geoff pet him and he tensed a little, but he didn't make any attempt to flee. Geoff immediately ran downstairs to get a kennel while I called the vet clinic to let them know I was on my way.
As it turned out Chi-chi (his nickname) was "blocked." This means he couldn't empty his bladder. His kidney values were toxic and he was basically in shock. When I got him out of his kennel at the vet clinic he looked like he was going to have a seizure. Our wonderful vet did a quick, but thorough exam and then stayed late to drain his bladder, give him fluids, do blood work, etc. It took 10 times of irrigating his bladder to get his urine to go from concentrated tomato soup (without the added water) to pink-tinged.
He is doing much better, though he is still not acting like normal. I stopped to visit him yesterday and he actually purred for me (unheard of with this cat). Hopefully he will come home tomorrow. He is part of our Siamese clan and they have been wandering around looking for him...Even though we have a zoo, the balance of our household is off whenever any of the members aren't here.
Other than all that, I'm finally starting to feel much better. I had one sick day this week where I needed to sleep most of the day, but other than that, I've been back at clinicals. I still have an annoying upper respiratory infection, but even that seems better. We'll see how I feel this weekend after chemo.
My current chemo regimen goes in 4 week rounds. I get chemo every week, but after 4 of those weeks I have completed another round. Today was the beginning of round 5 out of 6, so I'm getting close to the end. I'm also close to my next scan because we had previously decided to scan after this round again, so that will be mid-February. I'm so hopeful for a clean scan. I can't tell you what I wouldn't do for a clean scan.
This chemo regimen has been really tough.
It has left me crying more times than I wish to recount. There is nothing I would love more than to move beyond this and look back on it all and reminisce about how strong I really am.
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