It's About Time...

to update my blog. Almost 2 full months have passed since my last update. I've been known to disappear from the cyber scene from time to time but I believe this is my most lengthy hiatus.

It's about time...

for some good news. Recent scans have shown that chemo is doing it's "thang"! No active cancer cells registered! Woo to the hoo and back again!!!

It's about time...

to say goodbye to chemo once and for all. Exactly 5 months ago today I had my first treatment. Tomorrow I will receive my last!

It's about time...

to get back to the land of the living. Not that I ever totally left. But I'm ready to reclaim some free time.

It's about time...

to get back to living at warp speed. To get about the business of creating a life full of adventure.

It's about time...

for me to get back to being me...

Really...

It's about time!!!

Dearest Me,

Well, it seems you are in a place you never expected to be. A recurring theme for you, I know. How can it be you are so sick when you feel so well? You do realize how sick you are, right? Me thinks you may be living in a land where sickness is not an option...where sunshine and roses are the order of the day. Not that I'm judging you. It's what has seen you through so far. In fact, it's what I like most about you... your ability to block out the negative in order to remain positive... your refusal to take this lying down. But I think we've reached the point where it's time to be honest. Time to look at the ugly and accept it in all its ugliness. Time to wake up and smell the pungent aroma of this nasty thing called cancer. Time to realize you are on a journey...one that starts with a "c" and ends with pretty scary stuff. Don't be afraid. Acceptance is a good thing. Recognizing the severity of your situation will validate the rough stuff ahead. All the changes about to occur are necessary for survival. And you are a survivor...I won't let you be anything less.

You are moving right along. Depending on how you count it, you are almost through the first leg of your journey. When measured by time, you are only a little more than half way through chemo but it feels as if you are much further along...thirteen of sixteen treatments are behind you. Chemo is close to being a thing of the past. You've weathered it well. Now that you are nearing the end and looking ahead to what will come next, I can sense the panic rising. Take a deep breath and let's talk it out.

Surgery. The day you walk into the hospital the you you've always known but leave something far different. I will not lie. It is going to be challenging. Knowing what will be taken from you...well...it won't be easy. You will cry. You must allow yourself to mourn. Fear, doubt and disgust will rush to the surface. You won't want to look at yourself. Yet you must. This will be the beginning of a new you. What you do, how you react, where you let it take you will be a choice. I've been listening to the cries of your heart. I know your greatest fear is that you will not be able to accept the changes. That you will in some way revert to the "old you" that never felt adequate. The you that believed you were always less than. But you must remember that was the "old you". The you that didn't understand the peace that comes with self-acceptance. The you that was always looking outward for affirmation rather than looking within. The you that worried about the opinions of others. That girl is no more. She grew up. She learned how to live. She found peace. She found happiness. She finally realized that while she would always value the opinion of others, she valued her opinion of herself more. That is who you are. That is who you worked so hard to become. That is who you will always be.

Today is the day to begin the healing process of your tomorrow. No need to wait until the "ugly" is staring you in the face. Your body is strong and will most likely heal quickly. Your mind is equally strong. Embrace the fact you truly love yourself. You understand what it means to accept your strengths and your weaknesses. You know you fall far short of perfect and you realize that is perfectly okay. Believe in yourself. Refuse to listen to self-doubt and negativity. Focus on the fact that you have come so far. Rely on your faith and keep your eyes always upward. For if you do, you will be just fine.

With all the self love I can give,
Me

In Search of My Big Girl Panties

This week has left me figuratively digging deep in drawer after drawer, flailing about in an imaginary sea of not-quite-right undershorts, as I look for my freshest pair of big girl bloomers. Round two of chemo has begun and it is definitely time to "put my big girl panties on and just deal with it".

Heading into this week I was a bit anxious. The unknown does that to me. I suppose it does it to everyone. Feeling I had "mastered" the routine of round one's weekly treatments, I was apprehensive about the changes coming with round two. I knew the drugs I would receive would be heavy hitters and my physicians, as well as "K", had done a terrific job of educating me on what to expect. But you never really know how bad it will be until you have experienced it first hand.

Today marks day 5 in this 21 day cycle. Five days of almost constant nausea. Three days spent in a comatose state. Two days of bone pain. Neuropathy from round one has the nerves in my fingers on high alert. The slightest touch can create the feeling of a not-so-pleasant electrical current running up my arm. To complicate matters, the drugs given to alleviate the side effects of chemo have side effects of their own...the worst being severe dizziness.

That's the bad news. The good news is this. The nausea is tolerable. While I've spent many precious moments cozying up to the porcelain throne, I have yet to toss my cookies. Three days of abundant sleep have cured any and all feelings of exhaustion carried over from round one's incessant insomnia. The bone pain is also tolerable. Colder temperatures aggravate the issue but pain relievers do a good job of counteracting the problem. The issue of neuropathy is what it is. Fortunately, it will eventually go away and I see marked improvement each day. The dizziness? Well, the only up side to it is pure, unadulterated comedy. Everyone, including me, is having a grand time watching as I stumble into one thing after another. What can I say? You gotta laugh when you can.

So there it is. My record of the beginning of this half of chemotherapy. It isn't a picnic and it definitely ain't no party. But I can certainly deal. My search was successful and I'm armed with my big girl underpants. By the way, I bypassed the thong and bikini versions and went straight for the granny panty variety. I figured I could use all the help I could get.

In The Dark Of Night...

the demons come.

they invade my thoughts...

threatening my peace...

ravaging my heart...

dominating my mind...

devouring my happiness.

i whisper of their existence

reluctant to give them a voice.

they haunt me.

they mock me.

they are my enemy.

but HE is the answer.

i cry out to HIM.

HE is my rescue

my SALVATION.

with the sound of HIS VOICE the demons retreat in fear.

HE restores my peace...

my heart can rest

and slumber finds me.

Squeezing Life's Lemons

We all know the old saying, "When Life Gives You Lemons...". And of course, we have all puckered up from time to time as life tends to give us all a lemon or two every now and again. In an attempt to be helpful, some of us can be all too eager to toss out the old adage to anyone facing life's struggles as if by making the assertion sour will suddenly become sweet. This statement is positive thinking at its finest. And who doesn't want to be positive. But sometimes the lemons being served up are well past their prime and it is impossible to turn rotten fruit into any kind of tasty concoction. No amount of sugar by way of positivity will mask the nastiness. You simply must hold your nose and choke it down...sometimes chugging one glass right after another. These are times when you know beyond a shadow of a doubt you are getting the short end of life's happy stick.

I guess cancer could qualify as one of those moments. It would by no means be a stretch to say cancer equals one tall glass of barf juice...juice from the most rotten lemons. Having a flask of this foul but potable liquid shoved in my hand, I had no choice but to swill, swig and swallow. Here is where it gets interesting. I have a major gag reflex. Try as I might to chug-a-lug, all I did was heave and hurl. I decided it was time to protest. To kick up my heels and revolt. Not willing to drink alone, I called in the troops. Life's libations are more easily tolerated when shared with friends. If nothing else, they could administer CPR lest I begin to drown in my own regurgitation.

I've written much bemoaning the loss of my hair...another sour, rotten, old lemon. I will not lie. I hated the idea of being bald. Yet after throwing a fit or two over the unfairness of it all, I began to feel better. One point to note, do you not find it interesting how ugly begets ugly? Not only would I be poisoned in an attempt to banish cancer cells from my being, but my appearance was going to take a side trip to the land of grotesque. I was forewarned of all to come....mottled skin, broken (if not loss of) nails, puffiness, weight gain (every girl's nightmare) and of course the mother of all horrors... total loss of hair. And by total hair loss, they meant hair on head, eye lashes, eye brows, hair on legs...although this one is by no means a negative. You learn to miss hair you didn't even realize you had. But I eventually came to terms with it. What the heck. It's only hair and it will grow back. Besides, I received some good news. My course of treatment would allow me to "keep" my hair through the first 12 weeks of treatment. Three months as a baldy was WAY better than six. The first round of chemo would only cause my hair to thin and only to the point of being noticeable by me.

Well, "Life" must have gotten wind of the insurgency to come and planned its own form of retaliation leaving me hairless from the get-go. Leave it to me to be different. To experience side effects unlike the norm. Always marching to the beat of my own drum, I must say this was one time it would have been nice to have been a conformist.

Me and my not-so-wee-ones with a hat to hide my "hag" hair
Seeing this as only a minor set-back and by no means interpreting it as a battle lost, I forged ahead with my plans to laugh in cancer's face...literally. What did I do? I took my jar of "jungle juice" and threw a party. I called it my "Buzz Me, Baby" party. With friends and family to witness the moment and my sister to "do the deed", I took control of the uncontrollable and shaved my head.

Sharing heartfelt gratitude for my friends and family

Buzz Me, Baby

Suddenly, the bitter elixir forced upon me became sweet. With every laugh and embrace, my happy stick grew by enormous proportions and I had an overwhelming urge to extract more juice from the lemons. Rather than throw the yellow orbs back out into the universe, I was ready to squeeze the life out of them giving me lemonade to spare. That night tears were shed and laughs were shared. It was a night filled with bittersweet moments. A night of making the sour sweet.

My daughter and my mom...leaning on each other

Family portrait with my new fake 'do

Just so you know, I do believe when life gives you lemons you should make lemonade. It may not always be as simple as "add sugar, water and stir" but I'm proof it can be done. Maybe not on your own, but as another old saying/song goes "I get by with a little help from my friends". As corny as this may sound, when life shoves lemons in your face, let the love of family and friends be your sugar and laughter be your "stir stick". Dilute the bitterness with faith and house it all in a pitcher of prayer. Everything...and I do mean everything...goes down easier when following this recipe.

With love always,
-L

Coming Soon...

...updates, photos, deep thoughts, randomness, hilarity...all things "me" will be coming your way very soon.

Chemo treatments are going well but weekly treatments have wrecked havoc on my routine. I've actually been writing posts like a crazy woman but never seem to finish any of them. My biggest excuse is drug induced brain fog. Friday has become chemo day and the weekend is commited to recovery. On those days, due to the drugs I take, I have been known to speak nonsense, continually repeat statements as I remember very little and in the process keep everyone entertained. I intentionally avoid writing on these days. The spoken word can sometimes be forgotten or an argument can be made that disputes any statement made. It becomes a matter of "your word against their's". In other words, you stand a chance of lying your way out of just about anything verbal. Putting thoughts in black and white makes them more permanent and leaves undenialable proof that you may have temporarily lost your mind. I fear these incidences could come back to haunt me. Anything written on those days requires extra time and attention for proofreading. That leaves Monday through Thursday as days to accomplish all necessary tasks. I'm learning that cramming a 5 day work week into those 4 days can be draining. Add attempted daily workouts, required personal paperwork and the occasional load of laundry and you can see why my time for writing posts has become so limited.

Documenting this journey is very important to me. Blogging...writing... has always been and will continue to be my therapy. But life must be lived. So...if you are interested in reading my blatherings, check back from time to time. I'm beginning to get a handle on things (bah ha ha) and will be posting again very soon.

Before I go, I want to share a "????" moment I had while receiving one of my latest treatments. It validates my reasons for refusing to permanently document anything while in a drug induced state.

A "Did I really just say that?" occurrence:

Believe it or not, I welcome Fridays. Friday is treatment day. My reasons for embracing this day with open arms are simple to me yet some might find them odd. Then again, many find me odd in general. My number one reason is a much needed 3-4 hour nap. I've found the most annoying side effect of chemo to be the inability to sleep. Until a week ago, the most consistent sleep I got was during my treatments. I've since discovered a way to ensure a good night's rest giving me much more energy and an overall feeling of "wellness". Even still, who doesn't love a good nap. A mega dose of Benadryl via IV accompanied by Ativan takes me directly to dreamland. Within 10 minutes of the meds coursing through my veins, I'm a goner. Friends and family take turns transporting me to and fro each week and we always share a few laughs over statements and proclamations made during those 10 minutes. I rapidly descend from reasonably normal mental faculties to those somewhere close to what is considered deranged. The interesting part is in spite of my inability to govern what I say, there is a part of my mind that is able to comprehend and remember the absurdity of it all. Even as I make my nonsensical statements, in the deep dark recesses of my mind I'm asking myself "What the heck???".

In addition to all the drugs, treatments require I be given large quantities of fluids. As we know, "fluid in" means "fluid out". My naps are always interrupted by the need to relieve my bladder of the enormous burden. Ever the independent girl, I argue with anyone wanting to help me find my way to the restroom. I stubbornly and drunkenly navigate my way through the chairs of other patients, dragging my IV tower along, doing my very best to focus on not tripping over the wheels of the tower or my own two feet. Most days I succeed. How I actually maneuver the act of "going potty"...well, I don't really know. What I do know is that I perform the act with my eyes closed. And it is dark when my eyes are closed. So very, very dark. So much so that I made this proclamation to gal pal, "K" upon returning to my chair.

"Have you ever closed your eyes and realized how dark it is? So dark that the dark actually touches your eyeballs? I mean you can actually feel the dark touching your eyeball! Like the dark is sitting on your eye!"

The words were said with much excitement and conviction as I was sure I had just discovered something unique and grand. Let's just say the words were said with as much excitement and conviction as can be exhibited through slurred speech. I remember "K" chuckling while my mind waged an internal war over whether or not this made any kind of sense. The "real me" kept urging me to shut up and stop the insanity as I know I'm not that dense while the "drugged me" thought it was the most profound statement ever made. I didn't know whether to pout because I wasn't being taken seriously or to hide my head in shame. Before a decision could be made, the mental war was over and I was fast asleep once again.

This is but one of the tiny things that keeps me laughing each day. I believe the ability to laugh at oneself is the key to a happy life. Thank goodness I find myself funny whether anyone else does or not. I guess that means I can relate to my own sense of humor. For now, I can chalk up my self-induced chuckles to the effects brought on by drugs. Not sure what excuse I will use when chemo isn't part of my daily life.



Until next time...

-L

Impact

I've been thinking. I know...thinking can sometimes prove to be an unsettling thing, especially when faced with a major life crisis. This time, my thinking has proven to be a positive. The past few days I've been sifting through blog posts from the past year or so, curious as to where I've been... what I've learned.... spending time reminiscing and doing a little self-evaluation. Amongst the stories of my crazy antics and tales of woe, I stumbled upon a gem of a post. In fact, it was so meaningful I want to revisit the topic.

Roughly a year ago, I wrote a post based on a prompt from one of my best blog pals, "h.b.". Through various prompts and challenges, "h.b." laid the ground work for us to do some soul searching in an attempt to think about who we are and where we are going. Being the deep thinking, soul searching type, I jumped in with both feet and participated in many of the challenges. My favorite prompt explored the subject of touching people's lives...it's not who you touch but how. I suppose it is more than fair to say being diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer causes one to consider their role in this world. "Have I...do I...make a difference?" Now there is a question. Even in that soul searching, cancer free moment of a year ago, I dug really deep with this one and poured my heart out in these words:

"We all have them. Those times that forever leave a mark on our hearts...our souls...our being. Be it a good or bad time, it shapes and molds the person we become. Much of the impact it has on us is defined by how we approach that moment and the choices we make regarding it. I've had many such moments. Big, huge, earth moving moments. Marriage, children, divorced parents...a divorced me. Children moving away and then returning. The death of someone very dear. Some of these were cause for celebration and others were the cause of much pain. But through them all, I learned more about me and became stronger and hopefully wiser as a result.

But not all defining moments are as enormous in size. There are also the little things that can affect us. Little chance moments such as an encounter with another person that leave us with a life lesson all because we crossed paths. There can be inspiring moments of awe and wonder. And there can be misunderstandings or misguided intentions that leave us in a position to choose how we will move forward and whether or not we will allow it to cause harm or good to a relationship.

Lately I have been facing many defining moments. Times that are testing my character and my strength. I'm facing decisions that are almost impossible to make as there is really no good answer. Some days I feel victorious in these situations and other days leave me struggling to not feel defeat. But I am most thankful for these trying times. I know that even on the down days, I am building strength. God has given me the ability to rise above by trusting in Him. And I'm learning with each test and working harder to be a more positive influence."

How odd that I seem to be in much the same position now as I was then. It is exactly as they say...oh how things change yet they somehow stay the same. At that time I faced difficult decisions...they were my defining moments. Now, I'm in a battle for my life...probably the most defining moment anyone could face. The big question is how will this defining moment impact my world?

Every day... every moment... I get to chose how I will tackle this challenge. I have a choice in how I live... how I fight... how I love. I believe my decisions will in some way impact others. If nothing more, they will leave a mark on those who love me and are fighting along side me. I can only hope to be a positive influence. To make a difference in some tiny way. I have no idea what that difference will be or how it will happen. It could come through a chance encounter or it could be much more significant. Whatever it is, I want to be mindful of the fact that each and every decision I make could in some way impact another. When reflecting on past moments and opportunities, I recall many with feelings of happiness ...others I relive with shame and regret. Those are the ones I wish I could call for a do-over as I feel certain I wasn't the positive influence I desire to be. But I have a chance to be different. To be better. To use this challenge I face for something good. I'm hoping to take a negative and make a positive. I want to make a difference.