Some Thoughts As I Near The End

I was laying on the bed earlier, and I ran my hand across my stomach and felt the scar from my cancer-removal surgery three years ago.

And it made me think – I’m so glad that Me Then didn’t know what Me Now would be going through, because I’m not sure she’d have had the guts to do it. It would have been too scary.

But Me Now is married to an amazing man, and that’s pretty nice icing on the cake. Me Then would probably have appreciated knowing that was coming.

I remember Me Then crying when she realized that the surgery would leave a forever scar on her abdomen. Me Now chuckles at such a small sacrifice.

Me Then marveled at the thought that she was a cancer survivor. Me Now hopes to believe that about herself again someday.

Me Then was worried that two weeks recovery from surgery would set her irreparably behind in her training schedule for the upcoming half-marathon. Me Now aches to be able just to go for a walk.

Me Then knew that she had cancer, but not in any way that affected her day-to-day life. Me Now appreciates those moments, few and far between, when she forgets that she has cancer.

Me Then was constantly upbeat and excited for the future. Me Now can’t help but worry a little bit about what Me Future will go through.

Me Then beat cancer and put it to rest. Me Now knows that she’ll be living with it and dealing with it the rest of her life.

Dear Me Future – don’t tell me. I’ve found that it’s best not to know, and just take, and appreciate, one day at a time.

Round 3 out of 8 – DONE!

I’m almost half-way to being done with hard-core treatment. If all goes well, I should be done by the end of December (which marks a year of being on cancer treatment).

I’m a little more nauseous with this round than I was with the last. Even with all the nausea pills at my disposal, that’s starting to get a little harder to control.

I came home from work in the middle of the day today, and promptly fell asleep for about 3 1/2 hours. My fantastic news with this round, though, is that I get unhooked at 10:45am tomorrow, which means I get most of my weekend chemo-free!!!

The cat is well. She got a little respiratory infection that gave her a mild case of pink-eye, so Chris and I are encountering our first case of “doctoring” an animal that doesn’t realize it will make her feel better. I can feel her pain. Chemo’s not fun either, but I know it’s helping.

She’s quirky. We’re the only ones around for her to interact with, so she’ll play funny games with us. Stalk us around the apartment, but run away when we head towards her. She’ll run circles around the place when she’s in the mood. But she’ll also jump up and cuddle quite often too. Her favorite perch is the windowsill when we’ve got the window open.

Chris and I made a coq au vin tonight – there are some amazing smells coming out of our kitchen right now. Must go eat it.

I did it!

I joined a gym with a pool and I went for my first swim! Ha – swim. I went back and forth for about 10 minutes, then spent 20 minutes resting in the jacuzzi.

I still miss running. Swimming’s just a lot more work. You have to change into a swimsuit, get all wet, dry off, change back, go home and shower, hang everything up to dry.  Running just takes throwing on a pair of shoes and walking out the door.

However – my hip felt a lot better afterwards. I was exhausted, but walking was easier. This makes me hold out hope that if I remain persistant with this, I really will see improvement. Maybe I’ll even be able to go back to running in the next few years! Or, somehow, learn to really like swimming?

I stopped at Nielson’s Pastries on my way back home. I felt like I’d earned it with my first swim. Plus, I’ve just lost too much weight again and need to pack it back on. (side story – as I walked out of the gym a bunch of trainers were standing by the door. They said good-bye to me, and as I was walking away, on my cane, I heard the woman go, “Oh, she’s so cute – just like a little bird!” Grrrrrrrrr. Woman – I could have run your ass into the ground a year ago.)

I’m glad I dragged myself out the door and did it. And now I’m going to lay on the couch and watch a movie, hopefully working up the energy to shower and feed myself.

Gaining Ground . . . and Pounds

So . . . I think I did a lot of walking this weekend. Not sure, because it didn’t seem like so much at the time. But I’m sore today! It’s either the walking, or I have truly turned into an old woman, and this cold Seattle day (really? haven’t we had enough snow? it’s the middle of April!!) is making my hip ache. It’s not that deep bone pain like I had in the fall, though. I can tell this is muscle ache. I’m pretty good by now at knowing the difference.

I walked an entire mile on the treadmill yesterday! Whoooo-eeeee! And I did it pretty quickly, too (for me). 26 minutes. My new mantra comes from that guy who sold us our table – just keep moving. So I did, and before I knew it I’d done a mile. That felt like a pretty good accomplishment.

My other good news is that I’m gaining weight! One of the big indicators in the fall that maybe I had cancer was how much weight I lost. So I’m thinking . . . if all that weight loss was indicating something really bad, maybe this new weight gain is indicating something really good! Like the cancer isn’t eating those calories anymore, and my digestive tract is able to absorb a little more nutrition.

Of course, the first place my head goes is “oh my god. I’ve put on five lbs in two weeks. Am I gaining weight too fast? Am I going to get fat???!?!?” A dear friend pointed out how sick this train of thought is, when I myself am grateful I don’t look like I wandered out of a concentration camp anymore. It’s nice to feel like I have muscles again, and energy, and that maybe my body is slowly getting back to healthy.

You know – when I was on the treadmill yesterday I could look out the window and watch people jogging along the waterfront. And I vividly remember being able to do that, and thinking at the time, as I hit a strong stride, “I’m so glad my body is fit and healthy, and allows me to be this active.” My body is so different now. I can only do minor versions of those activities that I loved. And I definitely struggle to be grateful for what my body can do now, when I’ve lost the ability to do so much. But I think I’ll get it back. I’m not willing to give up on that yet. I just have to keep moving.

Just Keep Moving . . .

Someone died last night.

She was a friend of a friend, and Chris and I had gone to dinner with her once. A young, vibrant, intelligent and funny woman. Cancer beat her.

Chris told me this morning, and I said “Oh no!” And suddenly I was crying. Crying for this woman I barely knew who had gone through the same struggle I’m going through, who had so much life left to live, and who just drew the short end of stick.

We went out for coffee once I was okay again. I walked to the top of Queen Anne without my cane! And I was thinking about her. Thinking about what a thin line separates us, and how lucky I felt to be able to walk on this gloriously sunny morning.

After coffee, we headed back home, meandering along the shops that line Queen Anne Ave, and we stopped in one that had some funky tables outside. We’ve been needing to replace our current rickety old table, and we really liked these, plus they were waaaaay marked down (thank you, recession). So we decided to bite the bullet and buy one. While we paid, the fellow who owns the shop said that I looked familiar. He asked if by chance I had been in treatment for cancer. I told him that I was still undergoing it, and we figured out that he was also a patient at SCCA.

He’d had a rare bone marrow disorder, and had to go through a bone marrow transplant plus a year of 5-days per week chemo treatment in order to get better. He told me that when he was diagnosed he had a 30% chance of survival, and he just recently passed the three years healed mark – which in his case, means he’s healed for good.

In addition to the shop, he and his wife lead treks in the Himalayas, and he told Chris and I to plan on a trek when I’m all better and back in shape. He ended our conversation by telling me to just keep moving. You’ll get tired, sometimes it’ll hurt, but you can beat it if you just keep moving.

I don’t think our conversation was an accident.

In memory of M.

We might have forgot . . .

So I’ve had this upset stomach all week.

My mom has a patient who was also on Xeloda (the chemo pill) for a long time, and she told mom that she started using Prilosec and other antacids to help keep her upset stomach under control. So I called my doctor’s RN today to ask if this would be a possible solution for me, because the anti-nausea meds just aren’t doing the trick.

RN: “Oh dear. We usually give patients on Xeloda a prescription for Prilosec. We might have forgot in your case. I’ll send the prescription to the upstairs pharmacy and you can pick it up today.”

Worked like a charm!!! Sure wish they would have remembered to put me on it in the first place! Sigh. The medical system strikes again.

But for some good news . . . I had another PT appointment today. And as she walked next to me down the hall, my PT reminded me that when I first came in, I had to sit with my leg out to the side because the hip hurt too much to bring it in line with the other one. And now I can do leg swings that cross over the opposite leg. Something which would have been totally impossible in the beginning. She’s so good for my morale. She notices and points out how much improvement I really have made – which is great when I’m struggling day to day and don’t notice it myself.

She wants me to stop using my cane.  Ummmmm . . . are you sure I’m ready for that?????? I haven’t walked regularly without some sort of walking aid since last August – and I’m a little nervous. It’s become my safety blanket (or crutch, one might say . . . ha). Admittedly, I don’t ever use it around the apartment anymore, and I even have days where I forget it when I go out. But I normally have it with me, and it feels like a BIG GIANT STEP to give it up.

I can do it, though. I know I can. I’ve walked 26 and 1/2 years without it so far, and I will walk the next several decades without it again.

One step at a time.

Thin-Skinned

I think that once I can get this radiation burn healed, and my intestinal tract to stop giving me problems, I’m going to be in tip-top shape!

What seems to be happening is that the top layer of skin on the burn is starting to turn grey and fall off, and there’s this red, raw layer underneath that TOTALLY HURTS when ANYTHING touches it. I showed my radiation nurses my burn this morning. They were completely sympathetic and sweet, although all my doctor said is that he’d rather burn the heck out of my skin than my bowels, so he’s fine with this. Huh. (I kind of make him sound like a jerk, but truth is – I really like him. He’s a great doc.) So I got a prescription for this gel that has lidocain (sp?) in it and is used on burn victims. Time to numb my behind!

My nurse said that in a week I’ll feel like a new woman, with my new layer of skin. She also said that it’d probably stay tanned and could be a weird ice breaker for parties. I’m wondering who she thinks I’m going to show a tanned square on my behind to. What kind of parties does she go to?

What I Didn’t Do Yesterday

I didn’t get out of bed till almost noon. I didn’t shower till about 5pm. I didn’t call our landlady about the radiator leak. I didn’t call Ben about fixing Chris’ computer (actually, I feel bad about that one). I didn’t listen to my voicemails. I didn’t open up my mail. I didn’t balance my checkbook. I didn’t do my physical therapy exercises. And – oh yeah – I didn’t go to radiation or chemo.  (Still aglow over the fact that radiation is done!)

What I did do was: read in bed till almost noon, watch movies on the couch, AND . . . my big accomplishment for the day . . . clean the kitchen. Then Chris and I went for a walk and saw a SIFF movie last night.

So yesterday was a pretty nice day.

I’ve got a lot to do today, though.

One Delicious Day

Yesterday was absolutely delectable.

It was my last day before I start this final week of chemo/radiation treatment (I’m counting down right now – 15 minutes till I have to take my chemo pills again). And a friend took me to get a massage. Oh heavenly bliss! I’ve been in knots since last June, and to have someone working that tension out was . . . words fail me. The table was even heated. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more cozy or at ease wearing no clothes in a stranger’s house.

Then Amy and I went for yummy burgers (hers real, mine fake) at W Seattle EasyStreet’s cafe. And then . . . we went to Group Health to visit Amy’s newborn baby! He’s literally 2 lbs bigger than he was the last time I saw him – he’s practically doubled in size. I was hanging out in a rocking chair while Amy did her thing, and it was so soothing to just chill and be quiet in the little baby care unit. Tiny little lives all around working hard to breathe and make their hearts beat at the same time. Every time a small one cried, someone would start the “oooooooohh, shhhhhhh, oooooooh” noises. These must be universal noises for soothing. They soothed me, at least, and the babies never cried for long. I was there enjoying the peaceful ambience far longer than I meant to be.

Then I took the bus home, and got home just in time for my friend Kelly from work to come over bearing gifts of food. Probably one of the things that has kept me sanest throughout this whole process has been the fact that I have time to spend with friends and family. Sometimes we’ve had to put a cap on it when I get super tired, but overall, it’s been just as important to my emotional well-being to have these face-to-face connections as the treatment has been to my physical well-being.

Then Chris and I went out to drop off movies, and I talked him into going out to dinner for St. Paddy’s day. (His last name being Thompson, he was joking that St. Paddy’s just reminds him to collect the rent.) We went up to Olive You in Greenwood, one of our favorite restaurants, but one we don’t get to very often because its so far north and it can take forever to get your meal. But it was so delicious and the perfect way to cap off what had been an extremely pleasant day.

Now I have to go take my chemo pills. (Mr. Yuck face)

Savoring the Moment (and the Pastry)

I forced myself to get up off the duff and go for a walk today. Luckily for me, the sun appeared shortly after I set out, making the umbrella in my hand completely (and fortunately!) useless.

I made a circuit of lower QA from our apartment, and stopped about half-way through to rest in a little cafe called Nielsen’s Pastries.

Let me pause for a moment to dwell on Nielsen’s Pastries.

I’ve meant to stop in there for at least a couple of years, and just never have, even though it’s ridiculously close to our apartment (2nd/Mercer). It’s been recommended to me by friends, and today seemed like a good day for a trial. The first impression on walking in is spacious second-handedness. Despite a couple scarily-large wedding cake molds in the windows, there are neatly stacked piles of old books and magazines throughout the space, old chairs, old tables, and a couple of old recliners – the comfy, broken-in (or broken-down, depending on your definition) kind.

And then there is the pastry counter.

Let me just say that it was probably the best pastry and latte I’ve ever had. I’m sure the exercise and the cold factors into that statement, but my pastry was just perfectly crisp and buttery, with enough, but not too much, cinnamon.

But what really made my stop in there so enjoyable was watching the customers – everyone from the old couple grandly announcing from the doorway their plan to order a custom cake to the two young businesswomen guiltily buying themselves a couple cookies each in the middle of the afternoon. Every single face, without exception, lit up with delight as they looked at the selection in the display and tried to decide which one was calling their name. It was made sweeter by the fact that just moments before, that same expression was on my face.

They were also playing Fleet Foxes overhead, as if to prove their good taste.

The sun was shining in the windows, I had a good book in my hands – and the moment could not have been more peaceful or pleasant.