Second Day After Chemo # 4

Alas, today was not at all like yesterday. Exhaustion, neck and head pain, and overall achiness. I have that Bleo-head thing where I feel really hungover and foggy and just sort of mentally clogged.

I slept till 1:30, and I think I might be ready for bed now, at 8:15. I'm really just toast, so I think I'm going to close here.

Sorry about this sucky entry, folks! At least it was quick reading!

The Day After Chemo # 4

It was a great day! I had great energy, my spirits were good, and I had lovely interactions with perfect strangers. I felt like a normal human being for the first time in a long while.

Got the Neulasta shot, then went to the surgeon's office -- it seems that one of the stitches was supposed to dissolve but did not, so it ended up getting infected. The doc reopened the hole (it's above the 2" incision where my port is,) removed the stitch, and then squeezed a buncha puss out. I'm now on an antibiotic, since the slightest infection can rock my weakened immunity system world and potentially land me in the hospital. And I'm to continue to squeeze that puppy to try to get the rest of the puss out. Fun stuff!

Afterwards, Lorraine and I went out for a lovely dinner at a restaurant we love -- filet mignon for her, salmon for the lady. It wasn't till I was leaving the pharmacy (picking up the Percocet for Sunday's upcoming bone and joint painfest) that I started to sort of fall out. It was great before then, though. I felt almost normal -- which is amazing, considering I'm normally feeling the faintest beginnings of yuck the day after chemo, and don't have much energy. Nice to have this gift of a day. I really felt like my old self, smiling easily, laughing a lot, walking briskly, singing with the radio, driving my own damned car (Lorraine typically shuttles me around these days,) and having nice exchanges with people. How wonderful to feel up to it!!

Life is good.

Chemo # 4 Down

Another one down. I'm now a third of the way through. I got really, really nauseous during chemo, but it passed. The nurse went to get me a barf bag, and upon seeing it in her hand when she came back, I said, "Oh, good, it's clear!" Can you imagine? What's up with that logic? Anyway, I kept it together, and didn't need it after all. Another Ativan averted.

Oh, on the topic of drugs, now I've got a prescription for Percocet (or is it Percodan?) for the bone and joint pain that will probably hit on Sunday, if I get a repeat of what happened last time. Tomorrow I go back in to get that shot.

After that appointment, I'll head straight to the surgeon's office. I have a little infection from a stitch that went awry in my port implantation. One of them was kind of sticking out, and I was keeping an eye on it for irritation or redness, and it was ok till a couple of days ago. Now it's red, inflamed, and tender. So I asked a nurse about it, she said to get it taken care of, Lorraine called the surgeon's office when I was asleep this afternoon, they were very concerned and told me to come in tomorrow. So that'll be taken care of.

Another little thing -- that actually feels like a big thing: I think I've mentioned the "Bleo scars" I have. They're brown spots or streaks or, in my case, brown imprints of medical tape on my chest or scratch marks on my breast and stomach. So I was smiling at Lorraine when we were packing up our stuff in the infusion room preparing to leave, and now I have Bleo scars on my GUMS!!! How freaking insulting is THAT??? Yup, now my gums are light pink, with three brown spots on my gums that show when I smile. One of them is right over one of my front teeth. Fucking fabulous. And yes, I just said the F-word, for the first time in what's probably like the history of this blog. Apparently I feel strongly about these brown spots!! LOL The thing is, they can last for several years after treatment.....so it's not like the hair, which grows back, or the brown scratch marks on my breast which noone but Lorraine will see, or the brown tape mark on my chest, that is simply an oddity. This is my SMILE. Oh well. Whatever. It is what it is, right? It's not like I'm missing a tooth, right? *sigh* It just sucks. But it's really not my biggest concern.

So how do I feel physically today? I felt really nauseous (and gassy -- YAY!) during treatment, totally wiped out after, and a little nauseous now. So far, I'm getting nausea more this time than I have previously. I slept for 5 hours this afternoon, and am about to go to sleep now. Usually the Decadron -- steroid -- keeps me up till like 2-3 in the morning on treatment days, but not this time. It's all just a big old chemo adventure!

Thanks for the knitting advice, you lovely people!! Seems I've got a veritable bevie of Knitting Angels!!

I really love you guys so much. You have no idea how much your words mean to me. Each comment just feels like a hug, and it just feels so, so good. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your friendship and support. Seriously.

What I've Done and What's Ahead

Got this from here. Thanks, Marla!

I've Never Kissed A Member Of The Opposite Sex — False
I've Never Kissed A Member Of The Same Sex — False
I've Never Crashed A Friend's Car — True
I've Never Been To Japan — True
I've Never Been In A Taxi — False
I've Never Been In Love — False
I've Never Had Sex In a Public Place — False
I've Never Been Dumped — False
I've Never Done Cocaine — False
I've Never Shoplifted — False
I've Never Been Fired — False
I've Never Been In A Fist Fight — True
I've Never Had Group Intercourse — True
I've Never Snuck Out Of My Parent's House — False
I've Never Been Tied Up — False
I've Never Regretted Having Sex With Someone — False
I've Never Been Arrested — True
I've Never Made Out With A Stranger — True
I've Never Stolen Something From My Job — False
I've Never Celebrated New Years In Time Square — True
I've Never Gone On A Blind Date — True
I've Never Lied To A Friend — False
I've Never Had A Crush On A Teacher or Professor — True
I've Never Celebrated Mardi Gras In New Orleans — True
I've Never Been To Europe — False
I've Never Skipped School — True
I've Never Slept With A Co-Worker — True
I've Never Cut Myself On Purpose — True
I've Never Had Sex At The Office — False
I've Never Been Married — True (My marriage isn't legally recognized)
I've Never Been Divorced — True
I've Never Had Sex With More Than One Person Within The Same Week — False
I've Never Posed Nude — False
I've Never Gotten Someone Drunk Just To Have Sex With Them — True
I've Never Killed Anyone — True
I've Never Received Scars From My Sex Partner — True
I've Never Thrown Up In A Bar — False
I've Never Taken a Hallucinogenic Drug — True
I've Never Purposely Set A Part Of Myself On Fire — True
I've Never Eaten Sushi — False
I've Never Been Snowboarding — True
I've Never Had Sex At A Friend's House While They Were Throwing A Party — False
I've Never Had Sex In A Dressing Room — True
I've Never Flashed Anyone — True
I've Never Met Anyone From Online — False

Got my pre-chemo blood test today, and knit in public for the first time. I felt compelled to clarify to the others in the waiting room that I don't scrapbook and decoupage and other crafty stuff. But I didn't. I just sat quietly and knit my lovely black sparkly scarf.

In other knitting news, I have done as much as I can do on my cap because two days ago I reached the point where I must decrease, and I haven't the slightest idea how to do that. It's a cap knit in the round on circular needles, and I don't see how to do that in my Stitch n' Bitch how-to. I need help from my Knitting Angel!

Tomorrow is Chemo #4. I'll be a third of the way through! (If I get to quit this after 6 months/12 treatments.) Lorraine asked me last night how I feel about it, maybe because I'd been quiet for a while. I told her what I'll tell you: I'm looking forward to it because I want to put another one behind me. And I dread it because I know each time is harder than the previous one. I know the Neulasta will give me enormous bone and joint pain. I know that I'll be exhausted for six days and have a headache for five. But the truth is this: I have to go through it in order to put it behind me. Everything you've put behind you at one time loomed before you, right? So I guess the short answer to Lorraine's question is that I'm looking forward to getting it over with.

A third of the way. That's going to feel really good.

G.I. Jane, minus the six-pack

We did it. We buzzed my hair. I started to lose it three days after my second treatment, but then it really started to come out in handfuls after the third one. So I bit the bullet on Friday night after just getting completely grossed out by the sheer volume coming out. It was disgusting. Shaving it was a little traumatic, but with Lorraine's love and humor -- and a little wine -- I got through it. Gotta say, it FEELS great! Aside from a few tiny bald patches, it's about an eighth of an inch long, and very, very soft. Lorraine can't keep her hands off it -- she pets it, rubs it, and kisses it! Interestingly, it doesn't make me look fatter, as I'd expected. I definitely look a lot dykier, which makes me happy! See, Maureen? Looking like a dyke is not such a bad thing for some of us! I don't know about "biker dyke bitch" though. In my case, it's brought this femme a feeling of always valued dyke visibility.

I took the wig out for a test spin, and it was pretty odd. I felt very self-conscious and fairly uncomfortable. It's clear to me that I need to get it cut and styled some more, as it's still a bit hat-like for my tastes.

I also unveiled the dome to a new friend. I'd encountered a lovely and generous friend online at The Knitters Review Forum, and she kindly offered to come over and help me out with my knitting. She came over on Sunday and I met her with my bald pate -- the dome in full view. It felt perfectly natural.

Now that it's an eighth of an inch long, I can see that I have some black splotches. It's a little creepy. They must be from when I dyed my hair after having started Bleo. I already have "Bleo scars" from the bandage tape after my port implantation. These "scars" aren't really scars, so much as brown spots or areas, and I have them in scratch marks on one of my breasts also, as my trademark Hodgkins itching didn't fully go away until after my third chemo treatment. A lot of people on Bleomycin get these, and it's said the marks will fade in a few years. So ANYWAY, I dyed my hair thinking that I wanted to cover up my silver roots for the last bit of time I actually had hair, and it left marks on my scalp! They do seem to be fading since having buzzed it on Friday night, though -- so that's truly WONDERFUL news, because I don't relish the thought of having a black and pink bald scalp for five or six months. Hopefully the rest will fade as well.

Speaking of bald scalps, while I missed her amazing performance on the Grammies, I saw Melissa Etheridge's appearance on Dateline. She and her partner have faced her breast cancer with such love and grace, and I was really moved by the interview. I just LOVE that she belted out that cathartic Janis tune bald, too....go, Melissa!! I felt such love for her, and I am so happy that she felt such an outpouring of love from the audience as well.

Going back to the knitting thing, I'm going gangbusters now! I knit Continental (left-handed,) and can knit and purl quite easily now. I'm making myself a cap, since it's definitely cooler without some nice cozy hair on top! I'm also going to start a really cool, funky, lacy black scarf with some soft and sparkly black yarn I picked up. It will have a very spidery, lacy effect.

That's it for now....Lorraine and I rented a bunch of movies with her discount from Hollywood Video (she's a district manager for them,) and I still have a couple more to view before she takes them back tomorrow.

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter.....and Spring

Rent this movie. Rent this movie. Rent this movie.



I'm telling you, rent this movie. It came out in 2003, so I may be the last to arrive at this party, but if you haven't already seen it, do so. It's amazing. It's still and profound and moving and stunning and lush and simple. I swear. Rent this movie.



You can see a trailer here (after a preview of another movie so be patient,) but seriously, it's worth a look-see....EVEN if you're one of those who is adamant about seeing all your flicks in English. Yes, it has subtitles, but really there isn't a lot of dialogue in the movie, so if you're not into that, reading the subtitles won't present a hardship for you. Can this many critics be wrong? Trust me. It's a beautiful way to spend your time. Your heart will thank you. Your spirit will thank you. Your eyes will thank you, and your mind will thank you.

The Bahamas in July?

I'm doing better now, although the dogged headache persists. The bone and joint pain has almost completely passed, thank goodness, but some general achiness remains.




Lorraine has been talking to her sister about spending a weekend in the Bahamas. The round-trip fares are now running around $250, which is pretty cheap for airfare. It would be we three, and her sister's two kids, aged 13 and 16 (or thereabouts.) Lorraine and she were getting very excited about going Memorial Weekend -- her sister even checked to make sure it's an off-chemo week. I felt so badly telling Lorraine I didn't think I'd be able to go then. My energy is low now, and it's only going to get worse. I think it's just a lot during chemo. And can you see my bald head on the beach? I'm thinking it would be a mite toasty for the wig! And it's not exactly a washable item, able to be immersed in sea water. Then there's my port-a-cath setting off the metal detectors. But mostly it's the energy required to pull it off, and the risk of infection. I think overall it's just not a very good idea for me, but that doesn't mean she can't go! Of course, being Lorraine, she's adamant that she is not going without me. She says it won't be any fun without me, which is sweet, but I think she just doesn't have it in her to leave me alone.

So I'm thinking I could pull it off in July, provided I get to stop after 12 ABVD treatments and don't have to go four more. If six months are sufficient, then my last treatment will be on June 17th, and I'll still have a lot of fatigue afterwards, but maybe I will be up for a trip by the middle to end of July. Now wouldn't that be a cool thing!

We're of course still going to Italy or Greece when I'm feeling up to it after treatment; I still can't decide which. What a happy dilemma, eh? I definitely want to go when I have at least a little bit of hair and enough energy to walk around and explore. Italy is near and dear to my heart, having lived there -- it would feel in some ways like going home. On the other hand, I've always wanted to spend time in Greece, and I don't know when I'll have another opportunity. What I really know for sure is that I've got myself a good woman.

As you can see, I'm making some progress on settling into my new blog digs. Not quite there yet. Hey VJ -- check out the RSS feed! While I was sorry to have to lose all my old comments -- and then my former template -- I am pleased with the new one, and feel it's probably easier to read. It also forced me to clean house, so to speak, so I'm organizing all my links and trying to make it more reader-friendly.

And how WONDERFUL to hear from a couple of folks who've been unable to comment here -- like Ms. Gigglepuss and Mia!!! To everyone, I really loved hearing from you!! I'm happy you like the new, old comments.

Thanks so much for your support, everybody.

Welcome to the new template!

Hey, there! Come on in! Yep, I broke down and tossed the old template to put an end to the ongoing comments debaucle. Now, of course, I've got to get all my links back up, as well as my traffic counter and "Marriage is Love" banner and the rest. But at least I'm up and running now, after briefly doing more harm than good with my sophomoric attempts to fix the comments code.

Thank you, Jodi and Marla, for your kind assistance. Super sweet of both of you, but you had no way of knowing that I would find a way to take the code you provided and actually screw up the whole layout of the page! I'd originally gotten some code from the Blogger Knowledge section, but that didn't work. Then, when I got the help from you guys, I thought that surely do the trick. But no, I ended up rearranging the whole damned page! Pretty crazy.

So here we are, in the new Journey to Babeland home...replete with comment capability.

On the cancer front, the pain continues and so does the hair loss. Heather, I see that mohawk looming close on the horizon!

Neulasta is a painful thing.

Hello, all. I'm going to focus some energy on the comments situation just as soon as I stop writhing in pain.

I'd say that Neulasta is satan, but it's only going to help me to continue my treatments and resist infection. It's just that it's very, very painful. I got my shot on Friday, and the pain hit on Sunday. I took Extra Strength Tylenol...and nothing. Then I took Advil......and nothing. Finally, I broke down and took Oxycodone, a leftover from my port implantation surgery. I stubbornly refused to call the doc on-call, 24/7 number at my Cancer Center. I thought that surely something would work, or it would pass, or something. Well, it just got worse. The Oxycodone helped, insofar as it knocked me out for a while. A good deal of the pain remained, however, and it woke me up all night literally every hour. Yes, I actually cried. My shoulders and hips are just in agony, and my back, neck, thighs, and shins are aching. I feel like I've been hit by a truck.

Lorraine called the doc's office this morning and left a message, then I called back later today and spoke with a nurse when I hadn't heard anything yet. That was three hours ago, and I just called the pharmacy, and they said that a prescription had been called in for me. The nurse had said that she would call me back to let me know if that would be possible, or if we'd have to pick up the prescription from the hospital (apparently with some pain medications, that's necessary.) Anyway, it's there, so help is on the way. Keep your fingers crossed for me and my achin' bones and joints!

I'll work on the comments thang tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day, my beloved readers!

Comment Update

I've reentered the Blogger comment code, but I'm not sure I put it in the right place. Yikes, I'm clearly over my head!

If anyone has any ideas, my email addy is slhawthorne@comcast.net.

Gimme Comments!

Alright. Haloscan is out, and there's no commenting capability in any of the existing posts. Hopefully Blogger comments will be reenabled beginning with this one. Provided they work, I'll be checking here for any comments on recent posts.

Here goes nothing!

2 Days After Chemo # 3

I'll start with an apology for the delay in my posting. I've been pretty wiped out, and with Lorraine's sister here, my finite communicative energy has been expended before approaching any virtual borders -- so no blogging for me!

The third treatment went well. The GBMC Cancer Center was down a nurse, so we started 45 minutes late, and then the treatment itself took 4 1/2 hours. I found out right away that my white blood cell count was extremely low. They want to see the count at a minimum of "one" for treatment; going into my second treatment, my count was .85, but they proceeded anyway. You may recall that I said that my cancer center's practice is to proceed with treatment anyway in the case of Hodgkins patients, and then they deal afterwards with bringing your counts back up to a safe level. They took a wait and see attitude between my second and third treatments, and sure enough, Wednesday's blood draw told us on Thursday that my WBC count had gone down further to .73 -- too low to fight infection if I was faced with it. I got my chemo anyway (Yay!) and then returned the following day to get a Neulasta shot.

Neulasta is an alternative to Neupogen; both of them are effective WBC boosters, but the Neupogen shot is received daily, vs. the Neulasta, which must be given the day after chemo, but not sooner than 24 hours after the chemo, as it may reduce the chemo's efficacy. I'll get my Neulasta shots the day after chemo from here on out. I'm happy that a shot like this is available, as it will prevent the interruption of my treatment (my doc wouldn't have let me drop further) and give me the ability to resist infection. The downside is that it frequently causes bone and joint pain, as it's putting your bone marrow into overdrive, causing it to expand and pump up cellular production. The pain varies from individual to individual, so it can be extreme (as in the worst pain you've ever had, or comparable to the pain of the bone marrow biopsy,) or it can be mild and treatable by Tylenol. The initiation of the pain is all over the place also; it can hit the evening after you've received the shot, or a couple or a few days after. I got my shot yesterday, and so far I'm ok. I already take Allegra for my allergies, and it's known that antihistimines are helpful in fighting the pain -- so hopefully that will help me out!

I'm now hovering just above anemia, so I'm ok for now, but if my red blood cell counts drop a couple of points, I'll start to get Procrit shots as well, which will get my bone marrow producing red blood cells also.

It seems that each treatment is harder. I'm glad that I'd prepared myself for that possibility, because I'm much more flexible in my approach to all of it. It's all ok, and it is what it is. I'm feeling very grateful for so much in my life these days. I appreciate the love that I receive and give, the beauty that surrounds me, and the freedom I have to concentrate on tolerating this treatment and moving forward into good health.

My eats are GREAT, I'm happy to report. I'm back to my beloved Diet Power software, logging my foods religiously and monitoring all my macro-and micronutrient counts -- it is SOOOOOOOOO much better than Fitday, it's amazing. So much more capability and benefit. Anyway, I'm doing very well on the eating front. I know that I said that I'd go over my eating plan a couple of days ago and I never did -- I really will, just as soon as I've got the mental energy. It really is not at all far off from what I was doing pre-diagnosis, in terms of nutritional guidelines, as my plan was not just emphasizing weight loss, but overall good health as well. Wednesday's calories were 1357, Thursday's were 1756, and Friday's were 1437.

When I got my Neulasta shot yesterday, the nurses were not happy about my doing the 2-mile WATP tapes. They feel it's too much. They did say that this was a turn of events for them, and that usually they're urging folks to get up and get around. But they feel that the 2-mile is too strenuous, and advised slowing it down and breaking it up. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I know that I'm not going to do as little as they'd recommended, but I'll consider compromising a little. On some days. Did you know that I was a Taurus?

For those of you interested in the goings-on in the hair department -- it's getting pretty bad. The loss started after the second treatment, and now, after the third, it's really just coming out all over the place. I'll see how it goes over the next few days, and shave it either next week or just after the next treatment on the 24th.

As soon as I post this entry, I'll remove the Haloscan comments. Howie, I know that you think it's something that I've done in my blog's template, but I really did almost nothing to install them. They're free also. I just copied and pasted the code into the template, and the rest has all just been on autopilot. Thanks for the help everyone; I'm just going to cut them and hope that the Blogger comment program is then functional. *gulp*

Here I am!

Ok, I didn't get around to posting The Plan today, and I'm not sure I will tonight. Sorry! I'll definitely do it tomorrow night, when I'm wired after my 4-hour nap and the steroids. Here's the consolation prize, though: A face to go with the words.

These pic's were taken a two and a half months before I was diagnosed, so I'm the same weight I am at the time of this posting. I went on to lose another 16-18 pounds, but, weight-wise, this is what I look like now, since I've regained 16 pounds. Not the best hair day I've ever had by a long shot, but at least it's home grown!


Here I am, up close and personal


On a hike with Louie


Laughing


In other news, I did another 2-mile power walk (WATP) -- and enjoyed my first day back on plan! Tomorrow's Chemo # 3, so I'll update tomorrow night.

Toodaloo, lovies!

Another good day.

I've done some positive things today, and the very fact that I did what I'd said I was going to do is positive in and of itself.

I did Leslie Sansone's Walk Away the Pounds 2-mile power walking workout. It was tougher for me than it used to be, and I didn't even attempt to use more than the stupid 1-pound weights that come with the kit, but I did it and it's a start.

I intend to do it again tomorrow, as well. I know it will get easier -- I'm actually glad I was able to do the 2 miles (in half an hour, including warm up and cool down.) I normally use a pair of 6 lb. strap-on hand weights (Iron Hands -- I love them!) but I knew I wasn't up to that, and I didn't want to overdo it the first time back. Turned out the upper body stuff was hard enough with the 1 lb. balls, amazingly -- that's how out of shape I am now. Oh well, I'll get my juice back. Like riding a bike. The idea is to get in regular exercise to increase my energy levels and try to avoid further weight gain.

I've been eating off plan since the diagnosis in December, and in those two months, I've gained 16 pounds. Yep, that's right. But that's it. No more. I've drawn the line. I'm back in the saddle. I'd stopped using my beloved Diet Power software, stopped planning my eats, stopped counting my calories and macro- and micronutrients, stopped watching my fat, sodium, and sugar intake. Now, I feel I must say that I could have done a lot more damage than I did -- they weren't all irresponsible choices -- but I truly wasn't living the Healthy Sarah life of pre-diagnosis.

But that's it. That party is over. I'm going back to a modified version of my old plan...those of you who know me from way back will know what I'm referring to when I say "my old plan," but for you new readers, I'll detail it all tomorrow. So make sure you come back, because it's going to be some pretty fascinating stuff! I'm going to modify the Old Plan (geared towards weight loss and good health) to one geared specifically towards supporting the chemotherapy's efforts. Additionally, it should give me more energy, better health and well-being than that afforded by off-plan foods, with the added bonus of not causing weight gain.

For those of you now squirming from concern that I'm going to overdo it and hit the weight loss thing like the good old days, don't you worry. I'm raising the caloric level, raising the carbohydrates, not cutting it too thin. I'm aiming for maximum nutritional benefit, increased energy, and chemo-support. I've done some research on nutrition and chemo, and I'm following the recommendations of Maureen Keane, et al, in What to Eat When You Have Cancer, my favorite book on the topic.

I colored my hair. Now it's the same color as the wig, so maybe the transition won't feel so freaky. Dark brown. Not exciting, but then, neither is the wig.

Also on the topic of hair: I cut my hair shorter, from a shoulder-length flippy shag to a chin-length, choppy-layered bob. I just hacked away at it for a while, cutting in layers and spikey bangs. The cutting was haphazard, but wavy hair is forgiving. I styled it, and it looks pretty good!

Still more on hair: it continues to fall, and not just from my head. Aside from the eyebrows and eyelashes, pick a body part that typically grows hair, and it's on the run. Yep. Certainly simplifies the grooming process.

Sybil Has a Nice Time

Some days are harder than others, and some days are more fun than others. Yesterday and today were great fun! Truly, it was an awesome weekend.

Yesterday, we enjoyed a bit of retail therapy, buying some lovely serving bowls, a matching picture frame and small photo album, and a candle that smells exquisitely of jasmine. Good stuff! Then we went to Fells Point (the old wharf neighborhood in Baltimore -- I used to live around there,) and we walked around a little and ended up at a favorite haunt of ours, Bertha's. I first started going there when I first moved to Baltimore from Florence, Italy -- what must be like 15 years ago. I introduced Lorraine to the place when we started to date over six years ago, and that's when I got back in touch with an amazing woman who still tends bar there after all these years. She got her doctorate from Johns Hopkins in anthropology, and for a living she tends bar part time and caters part time, and has aligned her life firmly with her priorities. She's wise and funny and feisty and warm. She also, upon hearing that I had cancer, immediately cried and offered to take me to treatments since her schedule is flexible. I love her.

Anyway, we hung out there with her, I had some red wine, made friends with a cool guy who's a retired forensic investigator for the Baltimore Police Department, and we ran into a couple of amusing gay guys that we know; they've been together for 12 years now. I had such a good time! It was such a pleasure to be out and about, laughing and talking and exchanging funny stories and more. At one point I leaned over and put my head on Lorraine's shoulder and told her how happy I was and how good I was feeling.

When we left, walking back to the car, we saw again an absolutely stunning crocheted shawl that I'd admired earlier in the day, and found out it was discounted 75% -- down to $30! SOLD! Such a good time!

Today we went for a drive and out to lunch, then hung out together. We really do have such a good relationship. We just sincerely enjoy one another's company, we really do. What a gift.



I'm planning a Fuck Cancer party in a month or so, so "Ya'll come!" It's going to be big, big fun. Good eats, good friends, and lots of laughter.

What a difference a day makes, eh?

On Being Russ Kunkel (Props to Maureen)

I am blatantly pilfering the following from Maureen's comments in response to her brilliant entry on bravery among cancer fighters. Ted, looking online, found this bit of satirical genius from The Onion.

Loved Ones Recall Local Man's Cowardly Battle With Cancer

On Jan. 26, just four days after visiting the doctor for what he thought was severe indigestion or maybe an ulcer, Russ Kunkel got the dreaded news: A malignant, fist-sized tumor had metastasized between his stomach and liver. It was cancer.

Right then and there, faced with the prospect of a life-threatening disease, the 34-year-old Florissant, MO, husband and father of three drew a deep breath and made a firm resolution to himself: I am not going to fight this. I am a dead man.

On Feb. 20, less than a month after he was first diagnosed, Kunkel died following a brief, cowardly battle with stomach cancer.

"Most people, when they find out they've got something terrible like this, dig deep down inside and tap into some tremendous well of courage and strength they never knew they had," said Judith Kunkel, Russ' wife of 11 years. "Not Russ. The moment he found out he had cancer, he curled up into a fetal ball and sobbed uncontrollably for three straight weeks."

Said Judith: "I can still remember Russ' last words: 'Oh, God--I'm going to die! Why, God, why? Why me? Why not someone else?'"

According to Russ' personal physician, Dr. James Wohlpert, the type of cancer Russ had generally takes at least four months to advance to the terminal stage. But because of what he described as a "remarkable lack of fighting spirit," the disease consumed him in less than one.

"It's rare that you see someone give up that quickly and completely," Wohlpert said. "Cancer is a powerful disease, but most people can at the very least delay the spread of it by maintaining a positive outlook and mental attitude. This, however, was not the case with Russ."

Russ' friends and acquaintances saw that same lack of fighting spirit.

"Russ did not go quietly, that's for sure," said longtime friend Bobby Dwyer. "He did a tremendous amount of screaming."

"During the three days he spent at work before the pain got too bad, I saw a very different Russ," said Arnold Tolliver, a co-worker at the Florissant electronics store where Russ had been employed for the past six years. "He was always telling the customers how tragic it was that he wouldn't outlive his kids, reminding me that every day is a gift cruelly torn from his fingers, and grabbing somebody, anybody, by the shirt and screaming into their face that he didn't want to die."

In those final days, like so many who realize their day of reckoning is near, Russ Kunkel turned to a higher power. "Russ came to me in his time of need," said Pastor Charles Bourne of Holy Christ Almighty Lutheran Church. "But when I tried to comfort him by saying he would be with God soon, he only stopped bawling long enough to say, 'Fuck God. There is no God.' I had to get a couple acolytes to help me pry him out from underneath the pews."

When the end finally came, Russ Kunkel died red-eyed, trembling and hysterical in the attic of his home, where, in the depths of his fear, he was convinced the Reaper would look last. On that day, his 5-year-old daughter Bailey awoke to an unnerving quiet, the usual terror-choked sobs and shrieks of her father strangely absent from the morning air. Alarmed, she ran to her mother's side.

"Bailey was yelling, 'Daddy stopped crying! Daddy stopped crying!'" Judith said. "Somehow, though she's still very young, she understood."

Freaking hilarious, right? I love it!

So many fine qualities are attributed to cancer patients. We are brave, heroic, strong, positive, amazing, and inspirational. Right? Have you ever encountered one who wasn't? And yet I frequently feel frightened, weak, self-pitying, self-absorbed, and with an emphasis on that which is absent rather than present. Still, I hear from the people around me all the time that I'm so positive, that I'm just remarkable. So where's the disconnect? You may find this hard to believe, those of you who've been reading me since I started this blog (and I love you -- that should be mentioned,) but I am a relatively private person. I keep the painful, shameful bits to myself. And Lorraine, sometimes. I didn't face today with optimism and hope. I cried. I kept touching the port in my chest, looking at my scar there. Today is a crying day, not a brave day. I think all the bravery and heroics assigned to us are simply because we continue to put one foot in front of another and forming our lips into smiles instead of curling up in a fetal position and weeping for three weeks like our friend Russ Kunkel. That said, I do think you'd find a dose of Mr. Kunkel in any of us.

Cancer is terrifying and an imposition. Your life as you know it is ripped away in a sentence. You're afraid to plan, afraid to hope, afraid of pain and afraid of dying. You think, "It's bound to be ok," but you really can't be sure. It's bound to be ok because you're a good person -- right? But then what about all the other good people who don't kick it, or who kick it and then it returns? So you've got to stay positive -- a Positive Attitude will make or break you. The power of Positivity is profound! So then, what? All the people who end up going through bone marrow-killing chemo and stem cell transplants and more in furious attempts to hold onto their lives -- all the people who have to fight it again and again -- all the people who lose to Hodgkins or perish of some secondary cancer -- were they all negative and that's why things didn't work out so well for them? Hmm, it seems the platitude doesn't hold up in reverse. Apparently staying positive doesn't necessarily buy you a happy ending.

So I guess that's where faith comes in, because the same diagnoses when treated with the same treatments will achieve differing results. All you can do is all you can do. It's just not under your control, you know? You kiss it up to God and hope for the best.

For those of you growing alarmed by my state of mind in this post, don't you worry. I'm still amazing and heroic, courageous and positive. I'm just also frightened, and all too well aware of that which is absent in addition to that which is present. What's absent? Guarantees and security. The certainty of a future. A life open to planning and dreams.

I heard I had Hodgkins when my doctor called me on my cell phone as I was driving home from work on a Friday night. I was on my way to a lovely restaurant specializing in seafood, to meet Lorraine, her sister, and our friend Ringo for dinner. Do you know what I did? I celebrated. "Yay!! I have Hodgkins Disease!" It was a big party, full of heartfelt toasts, tears of relief, and kisses and hugs all around. It was an evening of relief and hope, because we'd feared that I had non-Hodgkins, which carries a more difficult prognosis. I rode that optimism like a white horse into treatment, keeping my fear primarily to myself and, to a lesser degree, Lorraine.

Some days are harder than others, that's all. Some days are just harder than others.

It's possible that I have too much time on my hands and too little to do. It's a recipe for self-absorption. What's that saying? Ah. Idle hands are the devil's workshop.

I'm thinking yeah. And you know what? I didn't have guarantees or security before cancer either. And, to be honest, it's important to me that the life I'm fighting to keep is a positive one -- it's just a better, more meaningful way to pass the time we've got. And I know that God loves me and knows what's best for me. So, for now, life goes on, just not as we knew it. It's the new normal.

A cranial prosthesis to call my very own

So we set out yesterday to the wig salon, and were helped first by Maryanne and then by Holly, both of them good souls and loud talkers. The kind of loud talkers that talk loudly about related topics at the same time, to the same people. People like Lorraine and me. Lorraine and I being two people of the "Oh WOW, that is just so terribly loud" variety. We are the sort of people who mute the T.V. during the commercials, breaking into a run for the remote at the first sign of an automobile ad. Tense and with our brave faces on, we entered the place; tense and with faces tight and wincing, we listened to them yelling. It didn't help that my head was killing me. (This headache just doesn't seem to leave.)



Things got amusing when I started putting wigs on my head. It was surreal, donning one Cousin It after another. The most hysterical -- the one that had Lorraine purple with her face that sort of twisty-ugly you get when you're laughing so hard you lose all control of your facial muscles -- the most hysterical was the wig of natural hair. At this salon, the wigs of human hair come long, unstyled and pretty much uncut. Most of the wigs I was trying on were too thick on top, with my face sitting small beneath this big, hat-like hair. And I was concerned about how much the hair moved -- or rather, didn't move. They seemed, well, fake to me -- as fake hair goes. So Maryanne went to get some real hair, and when I put it on, Lorraine and I just could not stop laughing. I looked like some kind of demented stalker chick in a B-movie. I truly don't know if any of you can understand what I'm talking about -- all I can say is that it was funny. The hair was much better, though.....nice and soft and fine, like mine. Wrong color, although they could get it in some different colors. But at $400 after my insurance covered $350, a no-go.

What really put Lorraine over the edge, to the point where she had to excuse herself while obviously suppressing laughter, was me with the crazy stalker girl wig on and Holly and Maryanne talking loudly to one another over my head, and the subsequent discovery that Holly had apparently been sitting in some terribly hairy place, as she had this rather sizeable tuft of hair sticking out from between her legs. With her back to Lorraine, it was hard to avoid -- and harder to stop examining. It was just all too much for poor Lorraine, and she just kind of lost it. She excused herself, choking, and the ladies thought it was an apparent overreaction to my appearance in the amusing wig. I'm sure it felt good to let out that nervous energy, the sweetheart.

I was really struggling to find something that I thought I could live with for 8-10 months, as they all seemed to look dumb or fake or off or just outright stupid to me. The one that they had that was the closest to the Raquel Welch wig I posted a short while ago fell into the "way too thick and dense to look even remotely like it's mine" category. So I was going back and forth between the top two contenders, not very enthused with either, when Lorraine took a stroll and came back with the one I ultimately got. She just went wandering around the place -- I truly don't know where, because there's no big showroom or anything -- and came back with something natural looking and not huge. It wasn't the right cut, but that's one of the services they offer there. I tried it on, looked at it in the sunlight, moved my head vigorously, felt it for scratchy parts, ran my fingers through it, wore it around for a little while.....and then said, "Yeah, I guess this is the one."

So Maryanne strapped it under my chin to secure it in place and cut in some layers and some fringy bangs, transforming it from a bob into something more like a modified shag. It's not red, it's a rich brown, with very subtle auburn highlights. My natural color is a dark brown (with a large amount of silver like a yamulke on my head,) but I typically color it some variety of auburn or lighter brown, frequently adding chunky highlights. Once in a while I get in a mood and color it dark again, as the darker colors tend to show off my eyes more, accentuating the green in the hazel.

It's not perfect -- it's straighter than my own and not as flippy as I'd like (just at the very bottom, at the nape,) but Maryanne says that I can add some more flip to the outer layers temporarily by using rollers, so I'll give that a try. Lorraine has promised me that it looks natural, and that I don't look stupid. I'll play around with it once I start wearing it; the wig came with a stand, brush, pick and teasing comb, and wig shampoo. I bought wig spray and mousse for styling. Also included in the price are the options to cut my hair short, shave my head, and touch up the wig's cut.

I also got a couple of very cute hats, a lovely, soft faux suede scarf head covering, and some very soft sleeping caps.....so I'm all set up now!

I've told you about the funny parts, but it really was a difficult experience. I fought back tears a few times, and so did Lorraine. We got through it though, like everyone does. We even copped a couple feels of the breast prosthetic sitting close by. How could you not??

Now here's hoping Louie doesn't treat it like some defenseless little animal and shake it in his little jaws, and Bughead doesn't drag it up and down the stairs and around the house like her own special pet.