Last Friday we see the doctor, answer a few more questions for the study I'm in, and reschedule for my next weekly appointments. Yes, I will be down at the University every Friday...you now know where to find me. After that, we started down the Green Mile...okay, not that dramatic, but the hallway that leads to the infusion center. (aka: where you get juiced) Little did we know what was in store for us.
You know you are in trouble when the first thing the woman who is giving us an overview starts her spiel with, "We are building a new cancer center. It will be done in January. Until then, we have more patients than we have chairs/beds for so you could possibly wait 2 to 3 hours before you get your treatment." How do you respond to that. I joked that they should give you a buzzer like at the restaurants...no joke. They do. It will reach anywhere in the hospital...watch out gift shop. I felt like I'd won first prize when we only had to wait 45 minutes!
So, I'm sitting in the infusion chair because they can give me one of my chemos (this is a 2 chemo day) sitting up while the other goes into my belly while I'm laying down. They get my IV in and start telling me of the benefits of antihistamines while she is pushing Benedryl into my IV...quickly.Too quickly. Picture "out of body experience/bad amusement park ride/ heroine trip. Since I'm out of body at that time I can tell you, Kim did not like this AT ALL. I tried to reach for a graham cracker and missed. Once I got the graham cracker, I tried to take a bite and promptly put it into my cheek. This was hold-up #1. They had to wait for those effects to wear off before I could take my oral anti nausia medicine and the start the Taxol. Now, you can also have an allergic reaction to the Taxol if they push it in your IV too quickly...yep, you guessed it...after about 3 minutes, I felt like someone was standing on my chest and then heat started to rise up my neck, into my face and before they interrupted the reaction it felt like I was floating from my nose down in warm water. Weird. That was Hold-Up #2:
Now they had to wait for me to recover from the reaction of the Taxol. That means that when they get to start the chemo again, they have to allow the Taxol to drip slower into me. This means a longer infusion. And when I finish that round up, the clinic is about to close so they have to take me over to the inpatient floor to administer the Carboplatin. The belly juice! Yes, there were a couple of snafoo's getting that chemo up to the floor (It has to be ordered from the pharmacy and it was somewhere between them and us for a LONG time.) it was dripping away like it should with no problems. When that is in followed by a bag of saline (about an hour total) I then have to spend the next 2 hours laying on my right side, then my left, then my feet higher than my head, then my head higher than my feet. I suggested we speed up sloshing the stuff around by me simultaneously doing jumping jacks and hula-hooping. No takers.
That makes my first experience with chemotherapy. We left our house at 9:30 in the morning and we got home at 11 pm. I think this worked out all of the kinks and they know how my body works just a little bit better. Fortunately, I don't have to do the 2 chemo regimen every week. For the next 2 weeks I just get the "Swimming in warm water one" and we will hope to avoid that experience in the future. I like my anti nausea medication. It keeps me feeling pretty normal. So far, I'm just tired. I've been a mother for 11 years, what's new.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
A New View of Chemotherapy
I was waken from my slumber this morning (Okay, truth: I had an idea on the way back to bed from going to the bathroom) with a pretty cool way to look at chemo.
We are big remodelers in our household. Our house was deemed "uninhabitable" when we moved into. Needless to say, I am comfortable in that arena. I lay tile, mud drywall, paint, decorate, remove brick chimneys...I digress. Anyway, I had this idea. What if I look at the cancer surgery as the "major remodel"? We opened up a few walls, removed the clutter, and made the space more efficient. Hard work? You betcha, but so important if we were going to keep the building structurally sound.
Now that I have the new space, it's so crucial that I maintain it so it lasts a long time. I've decided to look at chemotherapy as...house cleaning. If I don't clean my house regularly, the mess will build up all over again and it will eventually become unsafe to live there. I will be forced to move out. Unfortunately, no matter how much I'd like to only clean house once. I can't. It has to be done on a regular basis, especially if I am not the only one living in the house. It is so important to straighten things up, make sure things are in there place and to be as organized as possible to support the major work we did in the remodel. Sometimes life gets so busy or time is of the essence (A holiday gathering, perhaps?), what do I do? If I am lucky enough to have the means, I hire someone to clean the house. This is what I'm doing. They come to my "newly remodeled house" at a regularly scheduled time. I find out their routine, and I will know what they are doing, how long they will be there. I become comfortable that my house will look and function so much better when they are done and gone.
When you incur a "special cost" to keep you property up and running, it is not without sacrifice. I will have too tighten my belt. I might not be able to go out as much as I used to, perhaps even not eat as I usually did. And sometimes house cleaning can even lead to more minor remodeling. It is widely known that this service, can be hard on the roof. It has been known to temporarily damage the shingles. The shingles can't do their job as efficiently and I've heard in a strong wind...they can fall off. In this case, I will have to cover the roof with a special tarp. I understand the functionality of this tarp and ask you to please remember that the tarp covering is temporary no matter how much it might detract from the neighborhood.
In a few hours, I have my first house cleaning. I'll let you know how it went. I hear it might take awhile, but as that saying goes, "anything worth having is worth waiting (around) for". I'm sure I will be pleased with their work and glad that my house is one step closer to that holiday party. Oh! What a party that will be.
We are big remodelers in our household. Our house was deemed "uninhabitable" when we moved into. Needless to say, I am comfortable in that arena. I lay tile, mud drywall, paint, decorate, remove brick chimneys...I digress. Anyway, I had this idea. What if I look at the cancer surgery as the "major remodel"? We opened up a few walls, removed the clutter, and made the space more efficient. Hard work? You betcha, but so important if we were going to keep the building structurally sound.
Now that I have the new space, it's so crucial that I maintain it so it lasts a long time. I've decided to look at chemotherapy as...house cleaning. If I don't clean my house regularly, the mess will build up all over again and it will eventually become unsafe to live there. I will be forced to move out. Unfortunately, no matter how much I'd like to only clean house once. I can't. It has to be done on a regular basis, especially if I am not the only one living in the house. It is so important to straighten things up, make sure things are in there place and to be as organized as possible to support the major work we did in the remodel. Sometimes life gets so busy or time is of the essence (A holiday gathering, perhaps?), what do I do? If I am lucky enough to have the means, I hire someone to clean the house. This is what I'm doing. They come to my "newly remodeled house" at a regularly scheduled time. I find out their routine, and I will know what they are doing, how long they will be there. I become comfortable that my house will look and function so much better when they are done and gone.
When you incur a "special cost" to keep you property up and running, it is not without sacrifice. I will have too tighten my belt. I might not be able to go out as much as I used to, perhaps even not eat as I usually did. And sometimes house cleaning can even lead to more minor remodeling. It is widely known that this service, can be hard on the roof. It has been known to temporarily damage the shingles. The shingles can't do their job as efficiently and I've heard in a strong wind...they can fall off. In this case, I will have to cover the roof with a special tarp. I understand the functionality of this tarp and ask you to please remember that the tarp covering is temporary no matter how much it might detract from the neighborhood.
In a few hours, I have my first house cleaning. I'll let you know how it went. I hear it might take awhile, but as that saying goes, "anything worth having is worth waiting (around) for". I'm sure I will be pleased with their work and glad that my house is one step closer to that holiday party. Oh! What a party that will be.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Letting Go...
Okay, here's the deal. You (and when I say "you", I mean me) have a choice. You can either hold on to an ideal and be sad and angry and waste all sorts of energies mourning the loss of what was never to be. You can fight to the figurative death trying to get a square peg into that round hole. Or you can embrace what is concrete and have gratitude for the way that it is... right now. That is the ultimate in "letting go". I'm not very good at this. I will get better at it.
I had a great weekend. For the first time in probably 10 years, I was alone in my home. And I mean alone. Okay, the cats were still here, but that's it. Mark took the kids to Missouri to visit relatives. This was a trip we had planned before I got the news about my cancer. So, we decided they should still go. I do not feel the least bit guilty in saying this...I love my family, and I wouldn't want this for an extended period of time, but being alone was glorious! I woke leisurely, ate what and when I wanted, watched horribly bad television, visited with friends, chatted on the phone...it was heavenly. It was like being at a spa, but sleeping in your own bed. Perfection. The best recipe for recuperation I could have conjured up! I turned HUGE corners in getting better this weekend. Thank you.
However, the one thing you have to be careful of when dealing with someone that has a life-threatening illness...don't let them think you can get along without them! Seriously, the last thing I need to know is that you all will all be perfectly okay if I wasn't in your life! So, when Mark did fabulously this weekend as a single parent, I had a nervous breakdown! You must let me think you are function just well enough so I don't worry, but not so well that I'm insulted! Go ahead...walk THAT tightrope! I never said this ride would be without bumps!
Speaking of bumps...I hope I have a nice head shape. (How about that for a transition!) I spent some of my "alone" time researching chemo hair loss. Who knew my head is going to get cold at night so I need a sleeping cap? I really think I'm okay with all of the baldness issues. I happen to be able to rock hats. I have decided I will not be doing any Norma Desmond turbans though. They are just not my thing. Hats. Lots of different hats. My mother in law is an amazing knitter, so she's going to hook me up with some cool ones. That's very exciting. I must admit the process is a bit fascinating to me. Maybe that's the 20 years of hairstyling coming through. I'll keep you posted.
So, as I look into the next couple of weeks getting ready to start chemo, I will be working on letting go (of hair and expectations) and I will be embracing and accepting what is. I'll let you know how it goes...
I had a great weekend. For the first time in probably 10 years, I was alone in my home. And I mean alone. Okay, the cats were still here, but that's it. Mark took the kids to Missouri to visit relatives. This was a trip we had planned before I got the news about my cancer. So, we decided they should still go. I do not feel the least bit guilty in saying this...I love my family, and I wouldn't want this for an extended period of time, but being alone was glorious! I woke leisurely, ate what and when I wanted, watched horribly bad television, visited with friends, chatted on the phone...it was heavenly. It was like being at a spa, but sleeping in your own bed. Perfection. The best recipe for recuperation I could have conjured up! I turned HUGE corners in getting better this weekend. Thank you.
However, the one thing you have to be careful of when dealing with someone that has a life-threatening illness...don't let them think you can get along without them! Seriously, the last thing I need to know is that you all will all be perfectly okay if I wasn't in your life! So, when Mark did fabulously this weekend as a single parent, I had a nervous breakdown! You must let me think you are function just well enough so I don't worry, but not so well that I'm insulted! Go ahead...walk THAT tightrope! I never said this ride would be without bumps!
Speaking of bumps...I hope I have a nice head shape. (How about that for a transition!) I spent some of my "alone" time researching chemo hair loss. Who knew my head is going to get cold at night so I need a sleeping cap? I really think I'm okay with all of the baldness issues. I happen to be able to rock hats. I have decided I will not be doing any Norma Desmond turbans though. They are just not my thing. Hats. Lots of different hats. My mother in law is an amazing knitter, so she's going to hook me up with some cool ones. That's very exciting. I must admit the process is a bit fascinating to me. Maybe that's the 20 years of hairstyling coming through. I'll keep you posted.
So, as I look into the next couple of weeks getting ready to start chemo, I will be working on letting go (of hair and expectations) and I will be embracing and accepting what is. I'll let you know how it goes...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Not a Guinea Pig...Just Yet.
"I could have just died." Didn't you want to kill him?" It was a phrase or two like these that really hung me up when my dad was first diagnosed with his cancer. For those of you that don't know, I do not come from a long line of familial cancer survivors. My dad and I are going to be the first and only (we always did like to be special). Within 6 months of each other, he has pancreatic and I have ovarian. Weird. Anyway, along with ovarian cancer, I also have "Foot in Mouth" disease. When he was diagnosed, I felt odd saying things like, "Isn't that sick?" to someone who actually was. I have to tell you, please don't feel weird. I don't even think about it. I am still the same person I was before and when I'm bald, I'll still be that person...just not a cute. Now, I shouldn't say that. There is a small possibility that I could be a very hot looking, 44 year old bald woman...we'll just have to wait and see.
Speaking of all that, I went to the doctor on Friday. It was time to get the staples out. Did I mention that there were 35 of them! You ask, "Did it hurt?" Well, she used these scissor kind of things and she would put these scissor thingies under the middle of the staple and squeeze. That would bend the staples sides out and release it from my skin...35 times. No, I can't say it hurt for the 3.5 minutes it took, but I wouldn't want to experience it all day! I can say they are out now, my belly feels much less itchy and I have Steri Strips across it for one more day. Looking much less like a train track and more like...well, someday I'll post the pictures...or not.
Before I had my staples removed we did our phase two talk with my doctor. We had to get going on a post-op plan for chemo. Not just surgery for me. I couldn't get off that easy. And quite frankly, I don't want those potential microbial cancer cells to think that there is any room at the inn, so next stop...Chemo Station. (okay, enough with the train references, OY!)
The biggest question was whether to enter into a study or go the traditional route of treatment. That's a little misleading, because even in the study, I would get traditionally approved/used chemotherapy. The study is looking at which of the 3 ways of administering the chemo (just IV, IV plus drugs directly into your belly, or just drugs into your belly) works best. Plus, they are looking at after chemo, administering another type of drug. This drug is approved for use with other types of cancer, and they want to see if it works on ovarian cancer if given after treatment is complete. Long story short...The study follows me for 5 years offering me care I would not get in a typical treatment scenario. It was a no brainer...I'm in the study. Now for all of you that are wondering, I will not get a placebo and I am not some sort of Guinea Pig. The chemo they use... all works. The drug they give me after has show some benefit to ovarian cancer survivors in a recent study. This is a phase 3 study for "efficacy". They will follow me for 5 years and I will get CT scans every 6 months among other things. Great care with the doctor I know and trust.
So that's the plan. I have to go in next Friday and get worked over...CT, Chest X-ray, EKG, blood work. All baseline stuff for the study. Then the following Friday...my life continues to change...forever.
Speaking of all that, I went to the doctor on Friday. It was time to get the staples out. Did I mention that there were 35 of them! You ask, "Did it hurt?" Well, she used these scissor kind of things and she would put these scissor thingies under the middle of the staple and squeeze. That would bend the staples sides out and release it from my skin...35 times. No, I can't say it hurt for the 3.5 minutes it took, but I wouldn't want to experience it all day! I can say they are out now, my belly feels much less itchy and I have Steri Strips across it for one more day. Looking much less like a train track and more like...well, someday I'll post the pictures...or not.
Before I had my staples removed we did our phase two talk with my doctor. We had to get going on a post-op plan for chemo. Not just surgery for me. I couldn't get off that easy. And quite frankly, I don't want those potential microbial cancer cells to think that there is any room at the inn, so next stop...Chemo Station. (okay, enough with the train references, OY!)
The biggest question was whether to enter into a study or go the traditional route of treatment. That's a little misleading, because even in the study, I would get traditionally approved/used chemotherapy. The study is looking at which of the 3 ways of administering the chemo (just IV, IV plus drugs directly into your belly, or just drugs into your belly) works best. Plus, they are looking at after chemo, administering another type of drug. This drug is approved for use with other types of cancer, and they want to see if it works on ovarian cancer if given after treatment is complete. Long story short...The study follows me for 5 years offering me care I would not get in a typical treatment scenario. It was a no brainer...I'm in the study. Now for all of you that are wondering, I will not get a placebo and I am not some sort of Guinea Pig. The chemo they use... all works. The drug they give me after has show some benefit to ovarian cancer survivors in a recent study. This is a phase 3 study for "efficacy". They will follow me for 5 years and I will get CT scans every 6 months among other things. Great care with the doctor I know and trust.
So that's the plan. I have to go in next Friday and get worked over...CT, Chest X-ray, EKG, blood work. All baseline stuff for the study. Then the following Friday...my life continues to change...forever.
Friday, July 15, 2011
I think we should be called Im-patients...
A week ago (and one day) I had my belly opened up. My awesome doctor removed all of my girl parts and a bunch of little scab-like tumors. (That is my choice of words, not hers) I had one on my bladder, one on my rectum, one on each ovary, a couple just floating around and that fatty layering (the omentum) was covered with growths so they just took that sucker out. I am now closer to the Brittany Spears abdomen I've always wanted minus the swelling and the Thomas the Train tracks/staples running from my nether region, up around my belly button and stopping somewhere short of Tidmouth Sheds.
And nobody told me about the fluctuating internal body temperatures. I ventured out yesterday to watch my wee little 3 year old continue his week of "first ever" swimming lessons. Yes, that was me in the polar fleece jacket...in JULY! I'm hot. I'm cold. I'm hot. I'm cold. Enough already! I'm scaring the other parents down at the pool with my middle-aged striptease. Yikes!
Yep, a week. And I want to feel more normal than I do. Okay, you people that say I've never been even close to normal so why try now. I get it. But I am impatient. I know I should be thankful that things went well. I am. I'm even really happy with the fact that I am sitting here typing this with very little discomfort. And I do believe that it will get better. I'm just a little more Veruca Salt these days. I want it now! Don't care how...I want it NOW!
And nobody told me about the fluctuating internal body temperatures. I ventured out yesterday to watch my wee little 3 year old continue his week of "first ever" swimming lessons. Yes, that was me in the polar fleece jacket...in JULY! I'm hot. I'm cold. I'm hot. I'm cold. Enough already! I'm scaring the other parents down at the pool with my middle-aged striptease. Yikes!
Yep, a week. And I want to feel more normal than I do. Okay, you people that say I've never been even close to normal so why try now. I get it. But I am impatient. I know I should be thankful that things went well. I am. I'm even really happy with the fact that I am sitting here typing this with very little discomfort. And I do believe that it will get better. I'm just a little more Veruca Salt these days. I want it now! Don't care how...I want it NOW!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Clear down to the wire...
I have 17 minutes until no food or water. 16.
As the time sifts away and it is midnight and no longer my birthday, but the day of my surgery, I have to tell you something. I took pictures of my belly tonight. I wanted one last set of photos before it is permanently altered. I say this like I have a series of belly photos. I do not. This is the belly that I hated as a teenager and would exercise to death and even cover/sleep in Saran Wrap in hopes of shrinking it via skin suffocation. Oh, that flat stomach that remained just out of reach. I'm not sure why I took a picture of it. I guess for, "Old Time sake"? Maybe I was hoping this one would be my "before" shot. My surgeon and I were discussing how rich she'd be had she done plastics too. This is one of the many reasons I love my surgeon. She gets me.
Working backwards, before the Belly Picts, I ate a few Popsicles (Thanks, B).
Warning!! Spoiler Alert. Next we will be talking briefly about poop.
The dreaded Bowel Prep. Who in their right mind would make something like that, let alone call it "Lemony". It is like a small, Sweet Tart monster crawled up inside of me and died. His carcass is currently rotting from my insides out. Anything else you want to know? Here's something like The Law of Nature. Every single time I say, "There can't be anything left in there." I find myself sprinting for the bathroom. Pardon me, just writing about it has caused me to... have to...you know...
Okay, I'm back.
Tomorrow. We leave at 6 am. Arrive and report around 6:45 am. Surgery at 8. Rumor has it I am her first case. She's been out of town for the holiday, she got back today. I'm feeling that she is rested, fresh and ready to tackle me, so to speak. There has been a public out cry for a morphine laced blog. We will see. I make no promises. I admit, it would probably be quite a good one. Know that I will be writing when I can and filling you in on the goings on of me...in hospital...
As the time sifts away and it is midnight and no longer my birthday, but the day of my surgery, I have to tell you something. I took pictures of my belly tonight. I wanted one last set of photos before it is permanently altered. I say this like I have a series of belly photos. I do not. This is the belly that I hated as a teenager and would exercise to death and even cover/sleep in Saran Wrap in hopes of shrinking it via skin suffocation. Oh, that flat stomach that remained just out of reach. I'm not sure why I took a picture of it. I guess for, "Old Time sake"? Maybe I was hoping this one would be my "before" shot. My surgeon and I were discussing how rich she'd be had she done plastics too. This is one of the many reasons I love my surgeon. She gets me.
Working backwards, before the Belly Picts, I ate a few Popsicles (Thanks, B).
Warning!! Spoiler Alert. Next we will be talking briefly about poop.
The dreaded Bowel Prep. Who in their right mind would make something like that, let alone call it "Lemony". It is like a small, Sweet Tart monster crawled up inside of me and died. His carcass is currently rotting from my insides out. Anything else you want to know? Here's something like The Law of Nature. Every single time I say, "There can't be anything left in there." I find myself sprinting for the bathroom. Pardon me, just writing about it has caused me to... have to...you know...
Okay, I'm back.
Tomorrow. We leave at 6 am. Arrive and report around 6:45 am. Surgery at 8. Rumor has it I am her first case. She's been out of town for the holiday, she got back today. I'm feeling that she is rested, fresh and ready to tackle me, so to speak. There has been a public out cry for a morphine laced blog. We will see. I make no promises. I admit, it would probably be quite a good one. Know that I will be writing when I can and filling you in on the goings on of me...in hospital...
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Should You Really See Through Your Food?
Is anything worth eating really transparent? I think...steak? I think cake? The answer is, no.
So, this is the end of the first day of a two day prep before my surgery on Thursday. In less than an hour it will be my 44th birthday. Wow. How do I feel about that? Actually, I haven't really thought about it. I've been too focused on the prep. Let's get that out of the way and then I'll answer that other question.
Day two is pretty much like day one, clear liquids, except that at 2 pm I have to drink this small but mighty bottle of stuff that evidently isn't as bad as the colonoscopy stuff, but almost. What are the chances of me getting to Two Gentlemen of Verona tomorrow at 7pm? I'm already planning on giving the tickets to my mom and dad. My mom loves Shakespeare almost as much as I do...almost. After I drink my stuff that is supposed to be "Lemony" (I doubt it) I sit and wait. The next step I hadn't heard about before, it's this special anti-infection super-de-dooper adult baby wipe x 2 that I'm supposed to scrub myself down with 1 hour after I shower. Maybe I'll be able to leap small microbes in a single bound. I'll let you know. When the clock strikes, "Your Birthdays Over", I get nothing more to eat or drink. They say that like the crap I've been doing for the last 48 hours is so hard to let go of. Please.
Sorry to disappoint you, but I probably won't be blogging on Thursday. It says to leave all valuables at home on the day of your surgery and since the big computer is in the shop (Thanks, Scott Cannon for fixing it) all that is left is Mark's laptop. Can't bring it...it's valuable. Oh, and I'll probably feel like a building fell on me...that too. I promise to fill you all in as soon as my thoughts can actually get to my fingertips an aren't lost somewhere in Morphine Land.
I leave you tonight with my self-posed question. How do I feel about 44? I feel focused. I feel present. I feel optimistic, I feel ready. I feel like I want a pizza.
So, this is the end of the first day of a two day prep before my surgery on Thursday. In less than an hour it will be my 44th birthday. Wow. How do I feel about that? Actually, I haven't really thought about it. I've been too focused on the prep. Let's get that out of the way and then I'll answer that other question.
Day two is pretty much like day one, clear liquids, except that at 2 pm I have to drink this small but mighty bottle of stuff that evidently isn't as bad as the colonoscopy stuff, but almost. What are the chances of me getting to Two Gentlemen of Verona tomorrow at 7pm? I'm already planning on giving the tickets to my mom and dad. My mom loves Shakespeare almost as much as I do...almost. After I drink my stuff that is supposed to be "Lemony" (I doubt it) I sit and wait. The next step I hadn't heard about before, it's this special anti-infection super-de-dooper adult baby wipe x 2 that I'm supposed to scrub myself down with 1 hour after I shower. Maybe I'll be able to leap small microbes in a single bound. I'll let you know. When the clock strikes, "Your Birthdays Over", I get nothing more to eat or drink. They say that like the crap I've been doing for the last 48 hours is so hard to let go of. Please.
Sorry to disappoint you, but I probably won't be blogging on Thursday. It says to leave all valuables at home on the day of your surgery and since the big computer is in the shop (Thanks, Scott Cannon for fixing it) all that is left is Mark's laptop. Can't bring it...it's valuable. Oh, and I'll probably feel like a building fell on me...that too. I promise to fill you all in as soon as my thoughts can actually get to my fingertips an aren't lost somewhere in Morphine Land.
I leave you tonight with my self-posed question. How do I feel about 44? I feel focused. I feel present. I feel optimistic, I feel ready. I feel like I want a pizza.
Monday, July 4, 2011
The Last Supper.
It's 12:03 am. I am officially on a clear liquid diet for the next 48 hours...Yikes!
I needed to get some supplies at the store yesterday so my son and I went. I usually get the generic brand of chicken broth to cook with. I decided that since it was now considered a meal, I deserved the Wolfgang Puck brand. Fancy. It will probably taste exactly the same as the cheap kind. Go figure.
I have two days...and counting... wow.
People have been inquiring as to how I got to this point. Forgive me for redundancy, but I was in the process of switching doctors and decided it was time to have my almost 2 years late exam, so I called the doctor that was referred to me in February and was told that soonest she could get me in was on June 24th. I had some slight things that were odd. Back pain,(like I thought I needed a new couch) a face breakout, (never before in my life have I gotten zits on my face, NEVER) but nothing that said, "Hmmm, I think I should really get in to the doctor. About 1 1/2 weeks before my appointment my abdomen felt like a medicine ball was in the bottom of it. So, I called and asked if I could get in earlier. I did and after many questions, a blood draw and exam, I was asked to get an ultrasound.
I was taken into the room at Mercy in Iowa City expecting to get an ultrasound like I did when I was pregnant: A little cold goo on my tummy and away I went. Not this time. Much to my mortification (having not showered that morning) it was from, shall we say, the "inside". So I have a slight panic and try to use hand soap and paper towels to maximize my cleanliness in a matter of seconds. After I'm finished with my "spit bath" (as my grandmother would say) the tech comes in and does her thing, goes out, comes back in, takes a few more pictures, and declares she is done and that the she will be stepping out of the room so I can get dressed. She also mentions that if the phone on the wall rings to answer it. It does, I don't hear it and she steps back in to tell me to answer it. I talk to my doctor and she lets me know that I've had a ruptured ovarian cyst, an abnormal amount of fluid in my tummy (hence the heavy feeling) and that my body will absorb it.She wants me to come over to the office for a quick blood draw to check hemoglobin. Okay, I do, it's fine and I head on my merry way.
Fast forward to a few days ago.I get a call that they want to re pap because of insufficient cell gathering could I come back on last Monday for a re pap? Sure! After most of that week, I am not feeling bad, but I'm not feeling great. Mostly bloated. We went to Cars II and after eating my weight in popcorn...my belly felt so tight. It did not feel right. When I went for my re pap I asked my doctor if it is normal to still feel this way and she asked if I wanted a CAT scan. I asked if it was something that would just continue to absorb and she said, "Let's get you a CAT scan". I will thank her for the rest of my life (which is going to be a long one, thank you!) for making that call. It was with that CAT scan that they found nodules on my omentum which lead them to test the fluid in my belly that they believe to be ovarian cancer. We will find out for sure, on Thursday.
And now you know the rest of the story.
I needed to get some supplies at the store yesterday so my son and I went. I usually get the generic brand of chicken broth to cook with. I decided that since it was now considered a meal, I deserved the Wolfgang Puck brand. Fancy. It will probably taste exactly the same as the cheap kind. Go figure.
I have two days...and counting... wow.
People have been inquiring as to how I got to this point. Forgive me for redundancy, but I was in the process of switching doctors and decided it was time to have my almost 2 years late exam, so I called the doctor that was referred to me in February and was told that soonest she could get me in was on June 24th. I had some slight things that were odd. Back pain,(like I thought I needed a new couch) a face breakout, (never before in my life have I gotten zits on my face, NEVER) but nothing that said, "Hmmm, I think I should really get in to the doctor. About 1 1/2 weeks before my appointment my abdomen felt like a medicine ball was in the bottom of it. So, I called and asked if I could get in earlier. I did and after many questions, a blood draw and exam, I was asked to get an ultrasound.
I was taken into the room at Mercy in Iowa City expecting to get an ultrasound like I did when I was pregnant: A little cold goo on my tummy and away I went. Not this time. Much to my mortification (having not showered that morning) it was from, shall we say, the "inside". So I have a slight panic and try to use hand soap and paper towels to maximize my cleanliness in a matter of seconds. After I'm finished with my "spit bath" (as my grandmother would say) the tech comes in and does her thing, goes out, comes back in, takes a few more pictures, and declares she is done and that the she will be stepping out of the room so I can get dressed. She also mentions that if the phone on the wall rings to answer it. It does, I don't hear it and she steps back in to tell me to answer it. I talk to my doctor and she lets me know that I've had a ruptured ovarian cyst, an abnormal amount of fluid in my tummy (hence the heavy feeling) and that my body will absorb it.She wants me to come over to the office for a quick blood draw to check hemoglobin. Okay, I do, it's fine and I head on my merry way.
Fast forward to a few days ago.I get a call that they want to re pap because of insufficient cell gathering could I come back on last Monday for a re pap? Sure! After most of that week, I am not feeling bad, but I'm not feeling great. Mostly bloated. We went to Cars II and after eating my weight in popcorn...my belly felt so tight. It did not feel right. When I went for my re pap I asked my doctor if it is normal to still feel this way and she asked if I wanted a CAT scan. I asked if it was something that would just continue to absorb and she said, "Let's get you a CAT scan". I will thank her for the rest of my life (which is going to be a long one, thank you!) for making that call. It was with that CAT scan that they found nodules on my omentum which lead them to test the fluid in my belly that they believe to be ovarian cancer. We will find out for sure, on Thursday.
And now you know the rest of the story.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
HOPE and Hodge-Podge...
Above the welcome mat at the front of our house will be a sign hanging that reads, HOPE. I decided that I needed the letters to stand for Happy Optimistic People Enter. I believe that what energy you put out in the universe (I know, pretty new agey but hang in there with me.) you get back, so I'm committed to surround myself with really positive people.
Which brings me to my next topic. Information. I want it. If you have a distant 3rd cousin that has made it to the other end of this thing by eating Elmer's Glue...I want to know about it. I'm not sure I'll do it, but information is knowledge and I expect to hear from all of you.Can we be frank here, let's face it, I'd suck on tree bark if it would get me one step closer to healthier! Call, email, you can text me, but I'm pretty sure my 99 year old grandmother is a faster texter than me! But I try...
As for me, right this minute, I'm tired. That is what I find to be the most evident symptom for right now. I have very little stamina. Other than that, I am in no pain. I have a slight what I call "weirdness" in my abdomen. It doesn't hurt, it's just bloatie pressure. Now, don't get me wrong. I did go to church, help Mark put up some boards on the ceiling of the kitchen, cook dinner for my parent's and family and have the neighbors over for a bonfire. So I'm not just sitting and waiting around for this stuff to get me! But for me, at the end of the day I usually feel tired, not exhausted.
Another thing I notice and which should have been the real kicker here is my appetite. When a Benesh can't eat...call 911! We eat through the flu, Strep Throat, even major surgery (If they'd let us, they won't.). I should have known that something was up when seconds were not on my plate. Gotta pay attention to those red flags a wavin'.
Speaking of red flags, how crazy is it that I am wondering how skinny I will get? What has this frickin' nation done to us, Girls? Cancer won't even make us give up our desire to fit into those "skinny jeans". Oy! I said to Mark just this morning, "It's probably a good thing I didn't get rid of the clothes I couldn't fit into at the beginning of the summer." I joked with my surgeon that she could triple her salary if she also had her plastic surgery as well as gynecological/oncology specialty...then I flashback to the fluid being sucked out of my belly earlier this week and the reminder that this is SOOOO beyond vanity.
It's kind of crazy here in my brain today. Hence the Hodge-Podge part of my blog. Lots of thoughts not much organization. I guess that means I'd better find some sleep. g'night.
Which brings me to my next topic. Information. I want it. If you have a distant 3rd cousin that has made it to the other end of this thing by eating Elmer's Glue...I want to know about it. I'm not sure I'll do it, but information is knowledge and I expect to hear from all of you.Can we be frank here, let's face it, I'd suck on tree bark if it would get me one step closer to healthier! Call, email, you can text me, but I'm pretty sure my 99 year old grandmother is a faster texter than me! But I try...
As for me, right this minute, I'm tired. That is what I find to be the most evident symptom for right now. I have very little stamina. Other than that, I am in no pain. I have a slight what I call "weirdness" in my abdomen. It doesn't hurt, it's just bloatie pressure. Now, don't get me wrong. I did go to church, help Mark put up some boards on the ceiling of the kitchen, cook dinner for my parent's and family and have the neighbors over for a bonfire. So I'm not just sitting and waiting around for this stuff to get me! But for me, at the end of the day I usually feel tired, not exhausted.
Another thing I notice and which should have been the real kicker here is my appetite. When a Benesh can't eat...call 911! We eat through the flu, Strep Throat, even major surgery (If they'd let us, they won't.). I should have known that something was up when seconds were not on my plate. Gotta pay attention to those red flags a wavin'.
Speaking of red flags, how crazy is it that I am wondering how skinny I will get? What has this frickin' nation done to us, Girls? Cancer won't even make us give up our desire to fit into those "skinny jeans". Oy! I said to Mark just this morning, "It's probably a good thing I didn't get rid of the clothes I couldn't fit into at the beginning of the summer." I joked with my surgeon that she could triple her salary if she also had her plastic surgery as well as gynecological/oncology specialty...then I flashback to the fluid being sucked out of my belly earlier this week and the reminder that this is SOOOO beyond vanity.
It's kind of crazy here in my brain today. Hence the Hodge-Podge part of my blog. Lots of thoughts not much organization. I guess that means I'd better find some sleep. g'night.
Friday, July 1, 2011
So the Doctor Said...
The last time I was at the University of Iowa was with my mom and brother to determine if my father actually had pancreatic cancer...wrap your brain around that one!
We found The Pappajohn Pavilion, elevator I, fourth floor and entered the Oncology Clinic. It was HUGE. No, I don't mean overwhelming, I mean big. It was filled with people as various nurses came out of various hallways and yelled (I'm not exaggerating) peoples first name with last initial. We had checked in and I was doing my homework, the typical family history worksheet, when I hear, "Kimberly B!" I get my vitals taken, answer a few questions and am lead to a consultation room. Mark and I wait. I'm not complaining. If you would have seen the shear volume of people out there, I was thankful to be in a room before dinner time. It was 1pm. In comes the nurse, Virginia. She was wonderful. More questions like, "Do you know why you are here?" I lay it all out and then we get to meet my new best friend. Dr. Ahmed. She is so cool. She listens, she gets me in all of my quirkiness, and she and I are so totally on the same page with the same game plan. I skip like Dorothy on the yellow brick road to our treasure hunt of chest xray, EKG and other pre-op appointments.
Here's the deal: If you don't like to read/hear about "girl parts", then close now and walk away from your computer...
Okay, I now assume if you are still reading you are up for hearing things like: Full hysterectomy. Yep. On Thursday, July 7th, the day after my birthday, I will be undergoing surgery to remove all of my girl parts, the fatty covering of my intestines (the omentum) and anything else she finds that she wants to take out of me that I don't absolutely need. A 4 -6 hour surgery. I'll be in the hospital for 3 to 5 days...
I left that building with such a great feeling of trust and caring that I didn't even mind hearing that I will be on clear liquids 48 hours before my surgery. That's not entirely true. If you know a Benesh, you know we don't like people messing with our food. But I've just decided I'll eat birthday cake next year.
We found The Pappajohn Pavilion, elevator I, fourth floor and entered the Oncology Clinic. It was HUGE. No, I don't mean overwhelming, I mean big. It was filled with people as various nurses came out of various hallways and yelled (I'm not exaggerating) peoples first name with last initial. We had checked in and I was doing my homework, the typical family history worksheet, when I hear, "Kimberly B!" I get my vitals taken, answer a few questions and am lead to a consultation room. Mark and I wait. I'm not complaining. If you would have seen the shear volume of people out there, I was thankful to be in a room before dinner time. It was 1pm. In comes the nurse, Virginia. She was wonderful. More questions like, "Do you know why you are here?" I lay it all out and then we get to meet my new best friend. Dr. Ahmed. She is so cool. She listens, she gets me in all of my quirkiness, and she and I are so totally on the same page with the same game plan. I skip like Dorothy on the yellow brick road to our treasure hunt of chest xray, EKG and other pre-op appointments.
Here's the deal: If you don't like to read/hear about "girl parts", then close now and walk away from your computer...
Okay, I now assume if you are still reading you are up for hearing things like: Full hysterectomy. Yep. On Thursday, July 7th, the day after my birthday, I will be undergoing surgery to remove all of my girl parts, the fatty covering of my intestines (the omentum) and anything else she finds that she wants to take out of me that I don't absolutely need. A 4 -6 hour surgery. I'll be in the hospital for 3 to 5 days...
I left that building with such a great feeling of trust and caring that I didn't even mind hearing that I will be on clear liquids 48 hours before my surgery. That's not entirely true. If you know a Benesh, you know we don't like people messing with our food. But I've just decided I'll eat birthday cake next year.
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