Category: Cancer Sucks

Life With Cancer | It’s Probably Nothing, But…

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There’s an ever so slight chance it’s something.

After my 10% chance it’s something became 100% it’s ovarian cancer, I haven’t had much trust in the simple reassurances you often hear when facing an unknown. One of the questions that comes along with surviving cancer is, “will my cancer come back?” Most of the time, that question hides way in the deep of my subconsciousness and only surfaces right before one of my quarterly follow-up visits.

Until this weekend, that is.

Based on my symptoms I most likely have a simple UTI or, at worst, a kidney stone. However, because I’m an ovarian cancer survivor there’s the third option of a recurrence in the form of bladder cancer. I haven’t really had a UTI since my mom figured out when I was 5 or so that Mr Bubble and I didn’t really get along too well. There was a suspected instance during my chemo treatments, but because I was neutropenic and popped a fever, it was addressed almost immediately in the ER with some heavy duty broad spectrum IV antibiotics.

teabag

That isn’t the case this time. This time there is no fever and no quick turnaround in the ER, instead there is blood and roughly 3 days of calls to figure out what needs to be done. As long as I can continue to weather the crazy urgency to pee countless times throughout the day and night, I have an appointment to be seen by my gyn-oncologist Thursday afternoon. If I break before then, I’m to call back so they can get me seen by one of the Fellows. I don’t see me breaking anytime soon as I’m still agitated that Fellow blew me off on Saturday night and I won’t feel at peace until I hear from Dr. Gehrig.

Pretty much everyone has assured me that it’s probably nothing and for the most part I agree with them, but I still can’t help but worry that maybe, just maybe, it IS something. Only 9 months post-chemo and I’m being introduced to the thoughts I will have every time something is not quite right in my body… “is this it? has my cancer come back?”

Haiku | On Survivor Status

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Today was pretty frustrating and I have so much I need to get out of my head and into words, but I don’t even know where to start. The basic gist of it all is how I’m really aggravated because I now know why I have been feeling the way I have and I know what I *could* be doing to remedy the situation, BUT support is not readily available to me because I don’t have the well known and incredibly supported cancer. I feel like I’m not one of the cool kids because my cancer isn’t pink.

Seriously.

Doctor overseeing survivorship, that I was referred to by my doctor, actually said to me that she usually ONLY sees breast cancer patients but was willing to make an exception in my case. WTAF? Her team even put off setting up an appointment for me because they want to confer both doctors since I don’t have breast cancer. Even then, there isn’t an opening until December and the workshops are all full. I looked into support groups too only to learn that once again there was nothing for ovarian cancer but multiple groups for breast cancer.

I suppose you could argue how a breast cancer survivor has scars, lost her feeling of sexuality and femininity, and is grieving those losses. Oh wait, I do too! I get it, really I do. Breasts are a visible sign of femininity and who doesn’t love breasts, while ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, and cervix are all tucked neatly away, for good reason as they are NOT attractive. Those ugly reproductive organs are also responsible for the much loathed PMS. courage doesn_t always roar. (2)

Forget it. I. Can’t. Even. Right now. All through treatment I’ve been flummoxed by how one cancer could have so much more support than another, but at least then I was benefiting from the advances made in breast cancer research…we share common drugs. Now, on the other hand, I won’t benefit unless folks decide to make an exception and allow me into a sisterhood cloaked in girly, ultra feminine pink.

Teal always looked better on me anyway.

/rant

I will try again tomorrow.

My One True Fear

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Having ovarian cancer doesn’t scare me, but not having access to affordable healthcare terrifies me.

I try not to focus too much on the discussion surrounding the plans to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act (ACA or Obamacare) because I believe the mere thought of being stripped of my coverage before a replacement has been identified is detrimental to my continued success. The very thought terrifies me and can send me spiraling into depression if I’m not careful. I was taught to have my next job lined up before quitting my current one, so being laid off by greedy small business owners after 13 years of loyalty to them and dedication to my position reiterated why having the next thing lined up is important to continued success for ALL involved.

My surgery and hospital stay ALONE were over $35,000… That does not include the subsequent tests and treatments I have received to insure that I have a fighting chance at surviving this ONE killer that claims over 14,000 lives per year…

Cabin Fever?

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#TeamPamda – There’s a protocol in place should I spike a fever and last night it earned me a trip to the ER. Not to worry, I’m home now safe, sound, and resting comfortably! 

They took blood, urine, swabs, & chest x-ray to make sure I didn’t have an infection lurking anywhere and while we waited for results they pumped me full of antibiotics. Only one bit of excitement (other than the trip there and back over icy roads) was a reaction I had to the IV drip of vancomycin. It started with an itchy head and progressed to me looking like a tomato (a very itchy tomato) from the chest up.; not my best look. Some Benadryl helped me through the rest of the IV, and eventually it all cleared up once the IV was done.

Thankfully all of the tests came back negative and after a quick consultation with my gyn-onc doctors, it was determined I could go home to nurse my cold in peace…yeah, all that because I caught a cold. I felt like a nitwit, but was assured that they don’t like to risk it when we of the low neutrophil count feel puny and pop a fever.

On a fun note, it was entertaining having doctors proceed to explain microbial infections to the microbiologist. I then got to share some of my applied science adventures from my field research days…they were thrilled people came to them and not the other way around when I was done 😉

Don’t worry, I got this…

Positively Positive

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I should have know when his first degree was in Psychology that it would come back to kick me in the arse one day. Remind me to thank him for that kick, I really needed it.

I got off schedule with my antidepressant and got stuck in a bit of a negative spiral this weekend. Certainly there are a number of things happening at the moment worthy of being depressed and usually I am able to re-frame and re-focus so I can soldier on, but now and again a kick is in order. This was one of those times.

In my previous post, I must have done a terrible job explaining that every now and then I just want to do something fun with someone else. Something that doesn’t revolve around my cancer. Right now I have been making such big asks of pretty much all of my friends and loved ones related to my cancer treatment that turning around and asking them to give up time with their loved ones and do something fun with me purely because I am lonely seems ridiculously selfish.
And damn if it did not hurt that the one single guy who hasn’t been called on for anything could not even be bothered to respond to my request to go to the movies. Not even to say no. Way to keep me grounded in reality introverted single guy. 
So much suckage all around me I just could not deal with it all so it was spilling out of me all over our conversation until he had heard enough and wrote…

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“Change your thoughts and you change your world.”

But he was not done there so he continued with, “Now is especially not the time to be so negative. Lie to yourself if you have to. Negative thoughts can be very damaging to the body, mind, and spirit.”

I responded that I knew that, but DAMN.

That earned me a stern, “nope, no damn” so I called him bossy. Seriously, he’s bossy. He claimed it is only when he needs it…

I railed back that I have been lying to myself about things getting better for so long now while things just keeps getting worse that I no longer believe that particular affirmation.

He suggested, “Find the things that are positive and focus on them.”

A 5 yr old said I was beautiful Saturday; so kids dig me.
Dogs dig me.
“Good things are everywhere if you look.”
Yes, so are couples doing happy shit.
[Did I mention I am snarky and stubborn?]
It was time for his class to start back up so he closed with, “I hope you can start focusing more on the positive.”
Challenge Accepted. [I am also competitive and love a challenge]
Positive 1.  I am going to save a fortune in shampoo and conditioner
Positive 2.  I save so much time getting ready in the morning
Positive 3.  Fergus is even bossier than you so I always have a reason to roll out of bed
Positive 4.  There’s no one here to tell me I shouldn’t have ice cream for breakfast
Positive 5.  I’m having ice cream for breakfast
Look at that. Five and it was not even 8AM yet!
Positive (?) 6.  I eat less ice cream than I used to eat
Positive 7.  Plenty of uninterrupted knitting time
Positive 8.  I have virtually no forehead wrinkles
Positive 9.  I have a super nice mailman
Positive 10. My cousin sent me 2 lovely hats
Positive 11. A friend sent me a lovely card with a Starbucks gift card
“Now doesn’t that feel much better?” he asked.
maybe…
Positive 12. I have great friends
Positive 13. I found my comfy t-shirt material hat yesterday
Positive 14. All the horrible election ads will be gone
Positive 15. I’m getting lunch from my peeps at CockADoodleMoo food truck today
(which comes with a generous side of hugs and smiles)
 Positive 16. Fergus likes to spoon on cold mornings
Positive 17. I was able to put my trash and recycling bins out by myself
Positive 18. A free bagel every day in November at Panera
(so breakfast is covered when I’m not up to it & trash duty took care of that energy)

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The Xanga!

Positive 18(+). A $1 off coffee too. Wut?!?!
Positive 19. The Xanga, from CockADoodleMoo Food Truck gets its very own number.
(Someone recently said I know too many foodies, but can you really? I think not)
to be continued…
Don’t worry, I got this…

Being Single with Cancer SUCKS

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[or “Why I Think They Should Just Hand You a 1000 Cats With Your Cancer Diagnosis When You Are Single”]

I told him I wanted to write a post about how much it sucks to be single with cancer but I feel like it is just so whiny to cry about all the things that hurt about being single through all of this and would discount all of the great support I have around me. Everyone is always telling me how upbeat and positive while I’m all sad because I’m alone 90-95% of the time and just want someone to cuddle up with me on the couch to watch movies or take me out on a stupid date (or… or… or… the list goes on for a pitifully long time). No one wants to date a sick bald girl who is always tired and weak.

He said, “I think you should write the post.”

I asked him why? To vent my spleen? It just seems so pathetic and I have been single for so long now I suspect everyone just figures that my being single is a personal choice and that I like it being alone as opposed to a “chick can’t land a date if you tied movie tickets and coupons for free steak dinners around her neck” type reality now made all the more difficult by a lack of hair and reproductive organs.

“Just curious if you have tried a dating site.”, he asked, followed closely by, “Also, I think many would not care about reproductive organs.”

Have a tried a dating site? HA! Yes, I’ve tried multiple dating sites.

The most successful outcome is MSEE that I’ve been talking to for years but have only been out on 4(?) actual dates …and none of those recently. He’s not intimidated by my intelligence, loves my sense of humor, and is all kinds of supportive from a comfy introverted distance but that severely lacks a certain something.

 Then there is the parade of losers:
  1. Guy who actually asked if I was able to have children before ever even asking me on a date or meeting me in person. (this guy certainly cared about reproductive organs along with what skills I could bring to the relationship)
  2. Those who have deemed themselves not intelligent enough for me before we ever even met in person (or allowing me to make that determination for myself).
  3. Extremely memorable guy who couldn’t understand why his kicking his dog was a deal breaker for me.
  4. Guy whose first words to me were to ask if I liked full body massages… (are there people who DON’T?)
  5. Dude who offered “coffee, tea, or me turned over your knee getting spanked” as a means of introduction.
  6. Guy who declared himself too boring for me. (granted, I agreed with him on this point)
  7. Twenty-something who offered his services to me at my leisure… in his van…behind a gas station…in Rocky Mount.

The remainder were either older than my father (which is just too weird for me) or more than half my age and applying for my consideration as their sugar momma (in the greatest abuse of the English language I have ever witnessed and I’ve witnessed some major abuse in my day).

“Well, yeah, people are freaks.”

At least the ones who contact me via dating sites!

I told him that perhaps by the time morning hit Zambia my pitiful spleen would vent a post on the blog titled “they should just hand you a 1000 cats if single when diagnosed with cancer.”

“Well, maybe work on the title.”, he suggested.

…don’t worry, I got this, thanks to friends like him (he sayeth so it iseth).

Please, No, Not The Look.

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I’ve been fine with losing my hair from the beginning, in fact I considered it a silver lining since it would give me a great excuse to do some fun things with my hair since forever. Scott, my hottie hair stylist, and I have had several conversations about what we would be able to do both as it was leaving, while it was gone, and when it was growing back. However, along the way I realized one important thing. I wanted to be in control of it going, not the chemo..controlling the burn as I termed it. It was all fun and games until this last trim when the last of my hair came off.

At my first chemo treatment, where it was evident I was a noob because I had hair, I realized there were actually two important things. The second being that I was okay not having hair as long as it was just me on my own and not identified as a group of sick women. Turns out that the perception of others is something I cannot control. I have known that for years, but I had not made the connection until recently.

My friend, Maria, is a treatment ahead of me and has been preparing me for what to expect based upon her own experiences. She told me that once my hair was gone, I would be hugged and prayed over by strangers, but she did not make as much note about the look.

You know the look, the “oh, you poor thing, how terrible” look. Pity.

I do not need it, I do not want it, and I do not deserve it. My cancer was caught miraculously early, I have been blessed with an amazing doctor, and we are treating whatever cells remaining aggressively. My odds are better than most women who have been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and I know it. Instead, SMILE. Trust me on this one. Look them square in the eyes and SMILE. You might be surprised by the effect it has on the exhausted looking, no hair day having beauty before you.