I haven't posted anything new in a while because things haven't changed much. Although the recovery from surgery has been long and difficult, I am getting stronger everyday. I think the fact that I'm not facing anymore chemotherapy has done wonders for my overall outlook so even when I am exhausted (which seems like all the time), I feel very positive. Steve's mom is here helping us so she has taken the burden of household chores from me. Because of that I've been able to concentrate on the kids and their needs, especially school stuff. I am so grateful for her and everything she does for us.
I am still trying to come to terms with what being "done with treatment" acutally means. I am so relieved to be "cancer free" but at the same time I am afraid to stray too far from being a patient. I have been super strict about what I allow myself to eat for fear that any sugar, preservatives, or all the other bad stuff will trigger a relapse. And every twinge or pain I feel, I find myself wondering what it means. Just today I received something in the mail about heart disease and how it's the silent killer and my first thought was that I should make an appointment to have my heart checked out. I guess I'm a little paranoid. But Dr. McNamara said that would happen and it's normal to feel that way. I think I will be able to relax a little when I have another scan.
In the meantime, I tell anyone who asks that my life is forever changed in the best way possible from this whole experience. I am thankful for the smallest things. Yesterday the kids and I displayed our Halloween decorations and they were SO excited. I was so grateful to be here for that.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Moving On
I have great news that I've been wanting to share since last Wednesday but I've been holding off in an effort to find the exact words. I had an appointment last Wednesday with my oncologist, Dr. McNamara, my hero. Steve made the appointment because we had the ominous prospect of the next dreaded round of chemotherapy looming over us. And everytime Steve wanted to talk to me about it, I told him I wasn't ready. I didn't want to sacrifice the positive, healing thoughts I was trying so hard to hold onto everyday and contaminate them with poisonous, toxic thoughts of chemotherapy. I told Steve that whatever Dr. McNamara decided in regard to my ongoing treatment, I would do. Dr. McNamara got me this far so I would put all my faith in him (and God of course). However, I've been praying since July 29th that I would never have to endure another round of chemo.
Mom and Dad went with us to the appointment. After everything we've all been through, I think they were as desperate as we were to have answers. We all wanted to know where we were headed. We waited in the examination room for Dr. McNamara. While waiting, the nurse took my blood pressure and pulse which were normal. I had so many issues with my BP and pulse in the last seven weeks that we were all happy to see normal numbers for a change. When the doctor came in, he seemed a little surprised to see me but when Steve explained why we were there, he was nothing but understanding. He seemed to truly understand our need for him to clarify what was next. But before I let him speak, I had to plead my case. I explained that I really didn't want to do anymore chemo and I couldn't understand why I would even need anymore chemo if the cancer they knew was there had been removed. Then I crossed my fingers and held my breath when it was his turn to tell me what treatment I needed next.
He agreed with me! He said that I've had 7 rounds of chemo which, in theory, should be enough to kill any microscopic cancer. He explained that if the microscopic cancer was not eliminated with 7 rounds of chemo then there was no evidence to suggest that it would be eliminated if I had 5 more rounds. Basically, now we wait and see what happens next. And if I remain cancer free for 5 years then they will consider me cured. So I'm done. I'M DONE!!! I will have scans every six months in the beginning and taper off to yearly scans. And I will always have yearly colonoscopies.
We left the appointment not knowing what to say or what to think. We were definitely happy for sure. We were ecstatic and grateful to say the least. But I think we're all still in shock in some ways. This has been our way of life for the last nine months...surgeries, doctor's appointments, infusions, more surgeries. Steve's mom and my mom and dad lived with us more than they lived in their own homes. And now the doctor was saying it was over. He said, "You did beautifully. In the beginning we could have only hoped we'd end up here." I battled and battled. And now the battle is over. Even as my fingers type the words I can't believe it.
I'm afraid to say I've won the battle for fear I will appear too arrogant. If no one hears me knock on wood what will happen? I'm afraid I will lose sight of where I've been, or forget how grateful I've been for all the miracles, for this miracle. There's a lot of fear that comes with being done with treatment. Steve feels it too. We ran into the kids' pediatrician, Dr. G., the one who battled breast cancer a year ago. She never tells people she beat her cancer. Instead she says she's done with treatment and her doctor will be monitoring her closely. I think I will just say I'm done. That was something I did. I battled cancer and I'm done with that and now it's time to move on.
Mom and Dad went with us to the appointment. After everything we've all been through, I think they were as desperate as we were to have answers. We all wanted to know where we were headed. We waited in the examination room for Dr. McNamara. While waiting, the nurse took my blood pressure and pulse which were normal. I had so many issues with my BP and pulse in the last seven weeks that we were all happy to see normal numbers for a change. When the doctor came in, he seemed a little surprised to see me but when Steve explained why we were there, he was nothing but understanding. He seemed to truly understand our need for him to clarify what was next. But before I let him speak, I had to plead my case. I explained that I really didn't want to do anymore chemo and I couldn't understand why I would even need anymore chemo if the cancer they knew was there had been removed. Then I crossed my fingers and held my breath when it was his turn to tell me what treatment I needed next.
He agreed with me! He said that I've had 7 rounds of chemo which, in theory, should be enough to kill any microscopic cancer. He explained that if the microscopic cancer was not eliminated with 7 rounds of chemo then there was no evidence to suggest that it would be eliminated if I had 5 more rounds. Basically, now we wait and see what happens next. And if I remain cancer free for 5 years then they will consider me cured. So I'm done. I'M DONE!!! I will have scans every six months in the beginning and taper off to yearly scans. And I will always have yearly colonoscopies.
We left the appointment not knowing what to say or what to think. We were definitely happy for sure. We were ecstatic and grateful to say the least. But I think we're all still in shock in some ways. This has been our way of life for the last nine months...surgeries, doctor's appointments, infusions, more surgeries. Steve's mom and my mom and dad lived with us more than they lived in their own homes. And now the doctor was saying it was over. He said, "You did beautifully. In the beginning we could have only hoped we'd end up here." I battled and battled. And now the battle is over. Even as my fingers type the words I can't believe it.
I'm afraid to say I've won the battle for fear I will appear too arrogant. If no one hears me knock on wood what will happen? I'm afraid I will lose sight of where I've been, or forget how grateful I've been for all the miracles, for this miracle. There's a lot of fear that comes with being done with treatment. Steve feels it too. We ran into the kids' pediatrician, Dr. G., the one who battled breast cancer a year ago. She never tells people she beat her cancer. Instead she says she's done with treatment and her doctor will be monitoring her closely. I think I will just say I'm done. That was something I did. I battled cancer and I'm done with that and now it's time to move on.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Slow Progress and First Day of Kindergarten
Hey Everyone! For the first time in a long time I find myself without words. I've had a chance to read through all the blog entries which Mike wrote and every single comment from everyone who commented and I am deeply humbled and completely overwhelmed by your love and support.
First I have to give huge praise to Mike. I knew I picked the right man for the job! I am extremely grateful for all the work he put into the blog and amazed by his incredible talent. He's back to work now so that's why we haven't heard from him and he has exciting news that he agreed to let me share with all of you. He and his wonderful wife, Keira, found out recently that they are expecting their first child! And in the same week they were also notified that the offer they made on a home (short sale of course...Keira is an AMAZING deal finder) was accepted and they are buying their first house! I can't imagine two more deserving people receiving such an abundance of great happenings. Thanks Mike for your work on the blog and CONGRATULATIONS!
Now, how do I begin to thank you all for your prayers, support, and love that has made this recovery process bearable?! I am truly indebted to you all because the thoughts and the prayers worked and continue to work everyday. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all.
I know I have made progress, but this recovery process is a thousand times harder than I could've ever prepared myself for and I cry a lot throughout the day. Luckily there is very little pain but the extreme fatigue makes it hard to even lift my head sometimes. I also still have quite a bit of nausea which I am hoping will subside soon. Because of the fatigue and the nausea, I went to the doctor last week because we were fearful that my hemoglobin had dropped again. I had a blood test which showed all levels were normal. The doctor explained that the fatigue is a result of the intense chemotherapy I received during the surgery. When I look back to where I've been I know I've come a long way but there are times when I feel so hopeless, like I'll never feel normal again.
Today was the kids' first day of kindergarten. I wasn't going to miss it for anything so I gathered all the strength I could muster and went to the school with the rest of my family. I thought I had prepared myself emotionally for this day. I mean, the kids had already gone to pre-school so I really thought this would be no different. We arrived at school and the kids were directed to hang their backpacks on the nearby hooks and then play on the playground until the bell rang. We parents watched as our kids quickly began making new friends. Then the bell rang. My kids froze in place and just stood there not knowing what to do. Then the teachers began corralling the kids and directing them toward the classrooms. Before lining up at the classroom door, my kids came up to give us hugs and kisses before starting their day. That's when I almost lost it but I knew if I began to cry, my kids wouldn't want to leave me. So I pushed back the tears and put on my happiest face. They seemed excited and eager until Kylie came back to me and hugged me again. She wouldn't let go and I could tell by the solemn look on her face she was uncertain about all of this. She said, "I'm going to miss you Mommy." So I gave her one last great big hug, told her I'd be back to get her soon, and then brought Janie over to hold her hand and be with her. I told them to stick together. The two girls walked hand in hand and got in line and the teacher made an announcement, "Ok kids, everyone blow your mommies and daddies a kiss and say goodbye." All 24 kids did just that and off they went into the classroom. We parents all looked so goofy peering through the window to get one last look. We left and I've been crying off and on all day. I keep looking at the clock to see if I can go pick them up but time seems to be standing still in so many ways...
First I have to give huge praise to Mike. I knew I picked the right man for the job! I am extremely grateful for all the work he put into the blog and amazed by his incredible talent. He's back to work now so that's why we haven't heard from him and he has exciting news that he agreed to let me share with all of you. He and his wonderful wife, Keira, found out recently that they are expecting their first child! And in the same week they were also notified that the offer they made on a home (short sale of course...Keira is an AMAZING deal finder) was accepted and they are buying their first house! I can't imagine two more deserving people receiving such an abundance of great happenings. Thanks Mike for your work on the blog and CONGRATULATIONS!
Now, how do I begin to thank you all for your prayers, support, and love that has made this recovery process bearable?! I am truly indebted to you all because the thoughts and the prayers worked and continue to work everyday. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all.
I know I have made progress, but this recovery process is a thousand times harder than I could've ever prepared myself for and I cry a lot throughout the day. Luckily there is very little pain but the extreme fatigue makes it hard to even lift my head sometimes. I also still have quite a bit of nausea which I am hoping will subside soon. Because of the fatigue and the nausea, I went to the doctor last week because we were fearful that my hemoglobin had dropped again. I had a blood test which showed all levels were normal. The doctor explained that the fatigue is a result of the intense chemotherapy I received during the surgery. When I look back to where I've been I know I've come a long way but there are times when I feel so hopeless, like I'll never feel normal again.
Today was the kids' first day of kindergarten. I wasn't going to miss it for anything so I gathered all the strength I could muster and went to the school with the rest of my family. I thought I had prepared myself emotionally for this day. I mean, the kids had already gone to pre-school so I really thought this would be no different. We arrived at school and the kids were directed to hang their backpacks on the nearby hooks and then play on the playground until the bell rang. We parents watched as our kids quickly began making new friends. Then the bell rang. My kids froze in place and just stood there not knowing what to do. Then the teachers began corralling the kids and directing them toward the classrooms. Before lining up at the classroom door, my kids came up to give us hugs and kisses before starting their day. That's when I almost lost it but I knew if I began to cry, my kids wouldn't want to leave me. So I pushed back the tears and put on my happiest face. They seemed excited and eager until Kylie came back to me and hugged me again. She wouldn't let go and I could tell by the solemn look on her face she was uncertain about all of this. She said, "I'm going to miss you Mommy." So I gave her one last great big hug, told her I'd be back to get her soon, and then brought Janie over to hold her hand and be with her. I told them to stick together. The two girls walked hand in hand and got in line and the teacher made an announcement, "Ok kids, everyone blow your mommies and daddies a kiss and say goodbye." All 24 kids did just that and off they went into the classroom. We parents all looked so goofy peering through the window to get one last look. We left and I've been crying off and on all day. I keep looking at the clock to see if I can go pick them up but time seems to be standing still in so many ways...
Friday, August 21, 2009
More Progress
Yesterday Beth had her doctor's appointment at the City of Hope. The wife and I went up to Long Beach to babysit the triplets while Beth and Steve were gone. I'd spoken on the phone with Beth the day before and she didn't sound good. The fatigue was audible and her spirits were low, so I was preparing myself to see the worst. It turns out that wasn't necessary. She looked great! Apart from the pic line hanging from her arm, she looked as good as she did before the big surgery. Her energy seemed pretty good, and if not for a meltdown from one of the triplets I'm sure her spirits would have been good as well. After a few hours they returned and Beth plopped down on the couch. The trip had pretty much drained her, but she was able to sit and chat for a while. The doctors removed the pic line, which both Beth and Steve were excited about. Apparently, the pumps for the pic line are quite noisy, and if the line gets kinked or the battery is low an alarm will go off which makes for a long and sleepless night. Her incision is healing very well and is not giving her any trouble at all. Mostly, she is struggling with terrible fatigue and nausea.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Slow Going
Well, it's been a few days and Beth is finding the whole recovery process to be agonizingly slow. She's still eating and keeping everything down, but her energy is low. She just wants to feel normal, and because she doesn't she is very emotional. She has an appointment with Dr. Paz this coming Thursday. Hopefully between now and then her body will cooperate a little bit.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
On the Road Again
I spoke with Beth a few minutes ago as she and Steve drove home from the hospital. It was great to hear her voice was back to normal. It seems the recovery is finally progressing. Yesterday she sat outside with Steve while he had lunch. This morning as Beth returned to her room from a test Steve sent a text to my parents saying, "She is hell on wheels about going home." The doctors gave her some new meds for anxiety and blood pressure, and told her that if the fluid became a problem again she could go to the City of Hope's 24-hour clinic to have it drained. They also said they'd like to see her start eating a bit, so on the way home they picked up a burrito. She ate about half the burrito, and was feeling good enough that she considered going to the kids' swim lesson later today. Steve put the kibosh on that one though.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Back on the Up and Up
I just got some encouraging news. Beth is looking good and feeling better. Earlier today her hemoglobin count was very low, so she received four units of blood. The nurse said that wasn't unusual for patients that receive chemotherapy. Apparently the chemo wreaks havoc on the red blood cells. Her color is back, and her face isn't puffy like it was. She's alert and able to hold a conversation. At one point she asked the nurse for something to eat. The doctor gave the o.k., so the nurse gave her crackers and a nutritional drink called Boost. Beth was able to keep it all down, and even felt good enough to go on two walks with Steve and two walks with Mom. She got a bit anxious and uncomfortable in the afternoon, so the nurse gave her a mild sedative.
For those keeping score at home, this is the fifth room for Beth at City of Hope. Ever the advocate, Steve let it be known to the nurse that he didn't want her moved all over creation like last time. The nurse didn't make any promises, but I'm sure she got the message.
For those keeping score at home, this is the fifth room for Beth at City of Hope. Ever the advocate, Steve let it be known to the nurse that he didn't want her moved all over creation like last time. The nurse didn't make any promises, but I'm sure she got the message.
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