Look what I found…

I was looking for my resume, of all things and I stumbled across the following.  I had forgotten that quite some time ago, I was going to write about the fun and not so fun things about being sick.  I even have sections that I titled, but never finished.  Now that I found this, I’ve put it on my to do list, so one day, I’ll actually complete it.  Here is the rough draft of what I’ve written so far.  I started this January 1, 2009.   I’m not sure why the spacing got goofy after I pasted it, but I’m not going to fix it…sorry!

I’m just me, with a side of cancer

Just like every
other twenty-four year old woman, I had my entire life ahead of me.  I was in college, I worked at a job I was
passionate about and had a great group of family and friends.  Then I turned twenty-five and my world was
turned upside down.  Just five days after
my birthday, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer.

A little background

So I’m
twenty-four, I’ve got a great job, great friends who loved to have fun and a
couple of boys I was having fun with.
Life was good!  In the months that
followed one boy in particular really swept me off my feet.  By all accounts, my life could’ve been
considered perfect.  Perfect except for
the continuous ovarian cysts I had each month.
After several months of numerous cysts, I asked my doctor to run tests
to determine the cause.  Given that I had
an HMO, it was an act of God to get the appropriate tests run.  After coming back with inconclusive results I
requested that I be tested for cancer.  From
the response I got, you would’ve thought I was an alien speaking Ethiopian to
them.  How on earth could I think I might
have cancer?  I was a relatively healthy
twenty-four year old.  Cancer was an impossibility…

Reality check

That impossibility
quickly became my reality.  I had a
biopsy done within the week of my initial request…a true miracle given that I
was initially met with such resistance.
As I was resting on the couch after the biopsy, my nephew asked what the
doctor did.  My mom overhead me telling
my nephew that the doctors needed to see what my insides looked like.   He asked me if I saw my insides and I told
him saw some pictures.  I described the
picture that I saw as little piece of broccoli.
After hearing this, my mom went to find my dad and tell him what I had
said.  Little did I know my parents knew
I had cancer before I did.  My dad is
also a cancer survivor, and his tumor looked just like broccoli too.

After the diagnosis

The day I found
out, my dad told me I was now a part of a special group.  I had been inducted into the cancer club, I
remember asking him if I could reject my membership.   So much changed after my diagnosis.  The thing that bothered me the most was how others
treated me.  I was no longer just Lori; I
was Lori, the one with cancer.  So many
people didn’t know how to react around me.
My friends struggled to understand what my future held.  My parent’s friends seemed terrified that
someone so young could be diagnosed with cancer.

More visitors than…

So, by no means
was a hussy in my younger years.  My
who-ha, as I commonly refer to her as wasn’t seen by many, and certainly wasn’t
touched by many.  That was until I got
sick.  Now, I think the number of
visitors she’s had rival that of the Queen Mary.   Being that I was that rare 10% of the
population that was HPV negative, I was a medical marvel.  Given that I was being treated at a teaching hospital, I think they made a point of sending in every student to see my cervix.  It got to the point that the
doctors would give my brief history, always ending with “…and she’s [insert
drum roll here] HPV negative.”  At first
I was appalled.  Here doctors were
shouting out this status as if it were commonplace.  I mean, HPV is listed as a sexually
transmitted disease.   Eventually I chimed
in that I was also negative for HIV, Chlamydia and a host of other STDs.  The doctors quickly took my hint and stopped
pointing this out at every opportunity.
This was just one of the many times the doctors treated me as a study
guide instead of person.  Being the type
of person that I am, I called them on it every time.  I remember one time a young doctor came in
while I was receiving a routine exam.  My
legs were in the stir-ups and my who-ha was exposed to the world (okay, not the
world but it sure felt like it).   The
doctor never said a word to me; he just examined me and walked to the
door.   Just as he was about to walk
through the door, I called out to him “Call me.”  He was mortified.  He stopped and came back over to me and began
to apologize.  At this point, I sat
myself up and gave him a piece of my mind, in front of my doctors and many of
colleagues.  I mean really, come on!  At the very least he should’ve had the decency
to introduce himself and acknowledge me first.

Support groups

For
much of the course of my treatment I was kept segregated from others.  I had a terrible fear of vomiting (myself and
of others) so when I received chemo, I was in my own suite.  This was just fine by me.  The last thing I wanted was to be around a
bunch of sick people!  Initially, when I
asked about support groups, my medical team advised against them.  Their reasoning made sense, I was young and
the majority of those in attendance would be much older, and in many cases,
much sicker.  So, I opted to utilize my
own support group of family and friends.
This worked for many years.
However, as time and the cancer progressed, my attitude changed.  Terence suggested that I attend a support
group.  He even mentioned how beneficial
and helpful his mother had found her’s.
I told him I didn’t need one, I had my own.  As the weeks went by, Terence continued to
encourage me to go and at one point told me I was being very negative and that
I needed to go to one.  After being
called a “Negative Nelly” I decided I’d at least try one.  We found one at a center downtown, more than
twenty five miles from our home.  I was
certain this was the support group for me, as the age limit was between
eighteen and thirty-five.  Terence and I
left work early that day so we could arrive to the center together, and on time
(a small miracle for those of you who know Terence).  The center was beautiful…calm and
peaceful.  As we walked up the drive, a
woman who asked if she could help met us.
We told her why we were there and she looked shocked and sad.  Apparently the flyer that I was given was
more than two years old.  The support
group that I wanted to attend hadn’t been in existence for almost that amount
of time.  I was so disheartened.  The woman quickly suggested other groups the
center offered.  When I explained that
the reason I chose this particular group was the age of the attendees, she
suggested that I seek out alternative groups, while encouraging me to try the
groups at the center.  So, my first
attempt was a no go!  The second group I
attempted to contact was for an ovarian cancer group.  The woman who was kind enough to call me back
invited me to attend their next meeting.
After sharing with her Terence’s concerns, she told me that it would
greatly help me.  She asked a little bit
about what I was feeling and I finally felt a connection.  I was talking to someone who had gone through
similar things…not the same but similar.
However, the conversation quickly went south.  When I told her that my faith had been put
into question, she immediately told me that I couldn’t feel that way.  Well, for those of you who don’t know me, I
don’t take to being told I can’t do or feel anything very well.  I was immediately put off by this woman’s
audacity to invalidate my feelings.
Regardless of her beliefs, I was questioning my faith at that time.  Needless to say, before even attending the
meeting I decided this wasn’t the group for me.
A few weeks after our initial call, the woman contacted me again.  She asked why I hadn’t attended the meeting
and I was honest with her.  She then
proceeded to ask me if “Diane” still felt the same way.  She carried on for some time about “Diane.”  I finally had to stop her and ask who “Diane”
was.  It turns out that she had
misunderstood Terence for Diane.  I know,
I don’t know how she did it either.  To
this day, I still think those two names sound nothing alike!  Anyway, after I clarified that Terence was
his name, she immediately apologized and said it was okay if I was with a
woman.  As if I needed her
permission.  After the second
conversation I was certain this wasn’t the group for me!  So, as they say (and by the way, who exactly
is “they?”) the third time was the charm.
I went to a prominent hospital in Phoenix and attended their general
cancer support group.  My first time, I
attended with my best friend, Tara.  I
invited Tara over Terence, because quite honestly I was still a bit pissy that
he called me a “negative Nelly.”   After
work I went to Tara’s house and had dinner with her family, then we went to the
meeting.

Protecting the ones I love

I
have always thought that I was the sick one, so the ones that I loved wouldn’t
have to endure this torture.  Well, the
reality is that many of my loved ones will battle cancer one day.  But I still believe in the sentiment.  It might seem odd that as much as I used my
support group, I didn’t allow them to be an active part of my treatment.  No one went with me to chemo treatments.  When I had a surgery, only one person was
allowed to go to the hospital, the person driving me home.   This person was never allowed to be my
immediate family.  This might seem odd,
if not downright wrong to some, but I had a reason for this.  I had to protect the ones closest to me from
seeing the worst parts of my treatment.
For the most part, I put on a smile.
Looking back, I worked so hard to make it seem so easy.  I had to make sure my loved ones knew I was
okay.   This was my way of protecting
them for the horror of my treatments.

Some other cancer quirks

Once,
in an email, my friends and family had to write one word to describe me.  Words like courageous, amazing and strong
were used.  Then, there was the word my
brother used…quirky.  Yes, I am the
epitome of quirky.  Almost to the point
of being downright weird.  So, I already
told you that only one person, the one driving me home, could be at the
hospital with me.  Well, in addition to
that quirk, I also demanded that the person wait for me in the cafeteria, not
the waiting room.  I did this for their
comfort.  Who wants to be in a room full
of other people waiting for a loved one to come out of surgery?  Food is a tremendous comfort to me and
although hospital food can be scary, the cafeteria seemed to be the most
comfortable place in the hospital.  So,
my “driver” had to wait for me there.
Another quirk was my insistence that after any surgery, I walked out of
the hospital myself, without any hospital garb on me.  Of course, there were times when this wasn’t
possible and that I was very thankful for that wheelchair ride!

Add a comment September 23, 2011

The simplicity of a dragonfly…

Dinnertime with the goats was adventurous, to say the least.  I arrived to find Greta in the pool area, the boys eating the chicken’s food and Maddy trying to get from the pasture she’s in to me.  After getting Greta back with her brothers and them started on their dinner, I left them to go feed Maddy.  I opted to stay with Maddy while she ate, knowing the babies would eat from their buckets nicely.  Maddy was done very quickly.  As I went to get her bucket, Sally, one of the dogs snuck into the pasture.  Sally’s favorite past time is to chase the geese.  Needless to say, I took me a while to get Sally out, while keeping Maddy in.

I was finally able to return to the babies, to find Lyle cleaning up.  I told him I found Greta in the pool area.  He shook his head and told me she wasn’t even over there for more than 5 minutes.  She certainly has her mother’s dispostion…she’s adventurous and moody.  She is so unlike her brother’s…they are so relaxed, especially compared to her.  After I gathered their buckets, I was playing with them.  They usually all want attention at the same time, but Greta was missing.  I knew right away she was getting into mischief.  Sure enough, I look up and she’s on top of the pool wall.  I climb into the planter and she quickly walks along the edge of the wall.  I call for her and she comes to me.  I grab her collar and tug for her to jump and she looks as if she’s scared.  Now, keep in mind, the drop on my side of the wall is much less than the other side of the wall.  Silly girl!  As soon as I got her down, she tried to get back up.  I had to move all of the pieces of wood and fencing we have up to block her.  I think (at least for now) she’s stuck, but I know she’ll find another way up there.  When I was finished, she stood by my side, looked up at my newest creation and baaed (very softly, with  her mouth closed).  She sounded so defeated.

As I type, I’m sure she’s found a way into the pool area, where she’ll jump another fence, to get to the hay.  Have I mentioned there is a giant bucket full of hay in her pasture.  Does she want that?  No, she wants the other hay.    After my attempts to block her worked, she was pushing her brothers out of the way to get my attention.  As I sat on the wall and gave her, her nightly massage, she saw a dragonfly.  Hans was right next to her and he quickly saw it too.  They just stood there and stared for minutes.  They were mesmerized by this dragonfly.  When it flew away, they kept tilting their head looking for it.

Their enjoyment of the dragonfly reminded me to enjoy the simple things in life.  Everyday we walk around, so busy and wrapped up in our own worlds that we forget how truly blessed we are.  Life may not be perfect (I know mine isn’t), but it’s the only one I’ve got and I’ve got to make the best of it!  So, this blog is to remind you to be thankful for and enjoy the little things…that we often take for granted.

Sleep pretty!

Add a comment September 8, 2011

A much better day

Hello beautiful peeps,

I wasn’t planning on writing tonight, but I felt compelled to, after such an emotional and raw post last night.  I really should be writing my genogram paper, but I’ll take a few minutes and write to all of you. 

I’m in a much better place today.  Clearly, last night I was so overwhelmed, I had to unleash all that I was feeling.  I tend to bottle up my emotions and when they blow…it isn’t pretty!  Too bad that bitchy nurse wasn’t in front of me!

I saw the doctors today, only briefly.  I have a chemo treatment tomorrow and Thursday the radiation seeds will be removed.  I’m opting not to replace them.  Instead I will do double doses of chemo.  One would think radiation would be easier, but not for me.  Besides, I’m over being radioactive. 

So, I have a ton of things to look forward to and be thankful for…tomorrow is Wednesday, which means I’m done with school for the week.  Joanie comes home on Friday, which means we’ll be getting into mischief very soon thereafter.  In the bigger picture, after tomorrow, I only have 4 more classes…and then I get a break.  For my break, I’m going to Los Angeles to visit my Godparents, my mom, sister and I will be taking my niece to San Diego (my favorite place on earth)for her graduation trip and I’ll be going somewhere (not sure where yet) with Terence.  Joanie and I are going on a stay-cation too!  I’m most excited for San Diego and as I love, love, love that place!

Well peeps, I’ve got this paper to write, so I must get started on it.  Thank you for reading…and thank you for your comments from yesterday’s post.  I’m feeling much more like myself today…one spunky, pissy fireball (or Pteraxraptor as Terence calls me…that’s a mix of a T-Rex, pterodactyl and Raptor)! 

Sleep pretty!

Add a comment June 15, 2011

My only wish…

I haven’t written in a while because I have not, nor am I in a place to be writing.  I promised myself that when I started this blog, it wasn’t going to be all about cancer, as that is just one aspect of who I am.  However, over the last several days, that’s all that has consumed me…and so it doesn’t do any more damage, I’m going to unleash this ugliness.  I forewarn you, this will be dark…

My only wish is to have a single week without cancer.  I can’t remember a time not being sick.  I thought back to all the fun times I’ve had with Terence and Joanie and I was sick in every single memory.  To go back to a healthy time, I have to back over a decade.  I can barely remember what I did this morning, are you fucking kidding me, 10 years?  I would love to not see a doctor or nurse for 7 days, not to be messed with for 7 days, not to see a hospital for 7 days, not to hear the words kidneys, bladder, cancer, radiation or chemo for 7 days, not to get a shot for 7 days, not to have a blood draw for 7 days, not to have to take medication for 7 days, not to feel pain for 7 days and not to feel sick for 7 days.  What most people take for granted, I would give anything for.  I simply want 7 days without cancer.

Instead of making choices other people my age are, like what to name their baby or where to vacation, I have to make choices like is this clinical trial right for me or can I survive this round of treatment?  Is this the best doctor or should I go elsewhere?  For so long, these are the kinds of questions I’ve had to answer.

Many times, I’ve been asked how I do what I do?  Until now, the answer was easy, what option did I have?  I could curl up and die and or I could fight.  Now, I’m tired of fighting and dying has an element of peace, that I don’t have right now.

Perhaps I’ve had this revelation because I don’t have my partner in crime to get into mischief and keep me distracted or maybe this epiphany was long time coming or maybe I’m simply feeling sorry for myself.  A friend told me today that she didn’t think she could do chemo or radiation again.  I get it, because I don’t want to do this anymore.  How do we live in a world where the cure is worse than the cause?  I have radiation seeds inside my bladder that are probably causing cancer in other organs.  The chemo makes me so sick, I get mouth sores and my bones literally ache for days.  I get weekly shots to boost my red and white blood counts that make me feel like I have the flu.  This isn’t living, this is misery.

I drug my ass to school today, since I had already missed a week because of my surgery.  I felt so sick and all I wanted was to go back home and crawl in my bed.  It was so hard to smile back at people today.  It was so hard to chit-chat with people, especially about upcoming assignments that I could care less about.

I stopped at Fresh and Easy on the way home after school tonight, to pick up food for Maddy and the babies.  As I walked through the aisles, I overheard people complaining about the dumbest things.  It took all that I had to hold back the tears, until I could get in the car.  I wish I had their problems, my life would be so easy then.

I posted on my FB page that it was too much and someone replied “Join the club.”  Really, are serious, are you for real?  “Join the club,” how about you join my club and then whine about your life.  I know we all have issues and we all have our share of struggles.  I know my issues are the most important to me, just as everyone else’s are most important to them.  To each of us, what we are facing is monumental, but I would never tell someone to “join the club.”  I was so pissed by that comment that I told him to join my cancer club, and then we’d talk.

I must admit, I feel a little better after having said all of this.  As I typed this, the tears wouldn’t stop.  I cried the hardest as I sat and tried to remember a time when I wasn’t sick.  I then looked at a bunch of pictures and realized I was sick in almost all of them.  Life sucks, life is unfair and cancer is awful…and tomororw, I will pull up my big girl panties and deal with it, but tonight…I’m going to feel angry, bitter, overwhelmed, sad, sorry for myself and all the other emotions I feel right now.

Sleep pretty….

4 comments June 14, 2011

What should I do?

Hello peeps!

It has been a few days since I’ve written, but I’ve been a little late owl and by the time I can sit and write, I’m too tired.  So, I’ll catch you up now…

My partner in crime is currently on a plane to Ohio for the week.  I simply feel lost.  Last night, I looked at Terence and grabbed his arm and started rattling off a list of things we could do tonight.  Normally, Friday is our date night, as Joanie is normally working, but I felt the obsessive need to schedule events for the next week.  He sighed and suggested I call her.  As I continued on, he the suggested I fly to Ohio.  This is going to be a long week and here’s why.

I see Joanie every day (well, now that her work schedule changed, almost every day).  It may just be for an hour, but you’d be surprised how much mischief we can get into during that time.  Regardless of the length of time, that time is undoubtedly filled with giggles, giggle and more giggles.  Terence benefits from her too…as she keeps me out of his hair! So, I’m feeling a little lost…I usually plan my day around these visits.

I awoke this morning with a day filled with plans, I was running up to the doctor, then seeing a very special “healing” doctor, I was going to swing by and surprise my mom for lunch, then go visit Ashlee and the new babies!  Well, said with great disgust…my day has officially been shot.

I’m typing this from the first doctor’s office and I”m being held hostage.  It was decided I’m dehydrated and I need an IV.  Are you freaking kidding me?  Really, this is necessary?  I can go about my day and hydrate myself.  I think I’m being punished for being a tad bit uncooperative for this morning’s blood draws.  However, I think you’d be too, if you were poked numerous times because they couldn’t find a vein.  Then, bitchy nurse said this wouldn’t be an issue if I had a port.  She’s absolutely right, it would be a lot easier for the doctors and nurses if I had a port, but why should I make their life easier and have another surgery and have this foreign object in my chest…nope, nope, nope.  We’ve made it this long without one, I’m not putting one in so this new nurse is appeased.

Bitchy nurse returned to tell me that the docs have ordered dialysis, “since you’re already here and your counts show you need it.”  [Imagine this being said with a smirk].  My response was to give her the bird.  This isn’t going to be a good day.  I’ve already lost my phone because bitchy nurse says I can’t have it.  If she takes my computer, there will be blood shed.  She should see the computer is keeping me busy and more importantly, quiet.  Instead of taking my anger out on her, I’m venting to you…

So, as you can see, I’m not the best patient.  I don’t like being poked and I DON’T like my day thrown into chaos because I have cancer.  Had I known I would be spending the day here, I would’ve come prepared with things to keep me busy.  I’m so happy I forgot my laptop in my car, if only I had forgotten some work and school books in my car!  I also don’t like the bitchy nurse.  I’ve never had her before and I won’t have her again.  My normal nurse is on vacation…damn her.  At least because I’m unpleasant, the bitchy nurse is staying away now.  She really has no need to come back until the IV is done, which won’t be for a couple of hours.  And, better yet, she won’t be hooking me up to the dialysis machine, the other gal will….wahoo!

Well now, I feel much better that I”ve complained profusely!  Now, I’m not sure what I originally planed to write, but I know it wasn’t what’s above.  I shall say goodbye for now…and since its daytime, I can’t tell you to sleep pretty!

So…talk with you soon!

1 comment June 10, 2011