Sometime last year before Cancer 2.0 invaded my life, my son finally persuaded me to begin reading the Harry Potter books. They have been a great diversion, and I have tried to stretch out the enjoyment by limiting myself to a chapter a night. Ben tracks my progress and had warned me, when I reported what chapter I had just finished in book six, that I would have trouble not going on to the next chapter.
He was right.
Ben also was on the mark that these books offer metaphors for just about every challenge we face on our life's journeys. I was especially struck by how nicely the lesson served up in last night's second, irresistible chapter fits my current battle. Harry's mentor, Dumbledore, was stressing the importance of the distinctive advantage Harry would always have over his nemesis, Voldemort. It is the same armament I have against this Disease That Must Not Be Named.
The secret weapon is love.
As long as we reach out to others in love and let their love flow back to us, we have the power to face any foe. Love has been and will continue to be a great source of strength for me in my current battle.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
On the sidelines
I'm feeling a little selfish.
I reached out yesterday to a group a friends and colleagues that I usually see every year at a spring conference. I wanted to let them know I will be recuperating from surgery while they are gathering in Charleston in March. One of these peers wrote back to say she had just gone through her son's successful cancer treatment and would be praying for me and my family.
Her note underscored how much my family needs support and prayers, too, as we face these upcoming weeks. I am thinking especially of the four hours or so that I will be in surgery. While I look forward to being blissfully unaware during the operation and waking up to a tumor-less tummy, my family has the tougher job of waiting to hear all is well. I worry about them worrying too much.
Nor will it be easy on them traipsing back and forth to the hospital while I am regaining enough strength to return home. And then the real fun begins, especially for Tom, when I am back home and needing help with just about everything.
I am grateful for all the prayers being offered for me, and also for those to help my family get through this, too.
I reached out yesterday to a group a friends and colleagues that I usually see every year at a spring conference. I wanted to let them know I will be recuperating from surgery while they are gathering in Charleston in March. One of these peers wrote back to say she had just gone through her son's successful cancer treatment and would be praying for me and my family.
Her note underscored how much my family needs support and prayers, too, as we face these upcoming weeks. I am thinking especially of the four hours or so that I will be in surgery. While I look forward to being blissfully unaware during the operation and waking up to a tumor-less tummy, my family has the tougher job of waiting to hear all is well. I worry about them worrying too much.
Nor will it be easy on them traipsing back and forth to the hospital while I am regaining enough strength to return home. And then the real fun begins, especially for Tom, when I am back home and needing help with just about everything.
I am grateful for all the prayers being offered for me, and also for those to help my family get through this, too.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Snow day
Today was going to be busy at work, but Mother Nature took care of that, bless her heart! The timing for this snow day is perfect!
With chemo done now, I have been trying to work five-day weeks as I count down to surgery, and it has been a little more tiring than I anticipated. Last night it was all I could do to stay vertical long enough to eat dinner before needing to stretch out and read for a little while before going to sleep.
Tom has been great about handling dinner, kitchen clean-up, grocery shopping and just about any other chore I toss his way. I am learning not to feel guilty about focusing my energy on my day job and letting others pick up anything else that needs to be done.
It may be a challenge just to keep to my work routine over these next two weeks. As was the case back in October before chemo started, it is getting harder to find clothes I can wear comfortably for work. Thank goodness for long, no-waist dresses and knee-high boots.
Tom said the other day I could buy a new wardrobe when this tumor is finally out but I told him that won't be necessary. It has been so long since I could wear most of my own clothes, they will all look new when I can finally get back into them!
With chemo done now, I have been trying to work five-day weeks as I count down to surgery, and it has been a little more tiring than I anticipated. Last night it was all I could do to stay vertical long enough to eat dinner before needing to stretch out and read for a little while before going to sleep.
Tom has been great about handling dinner, kitchen clean-up, grocery shopping and just about any other chore I toss his way. I am learning not to feel guilty about focusing my energy on my day job and letting others pick up anything else that needs to be done.
It may be a challenge just to keep to my work routine over these next two weeks. As was the case back in October before chemo started, it is getting harder to find clothes I can wear comfortably for work. Thank goodness for long, no-waist dresses and knee-high boots.
Tom said the other day I could buy a new wardrobe when this tumor is finally out but I told him that won't be necessary. It has been so long since I could wear most of my own clothes, they will all look new when I can finally get back into them!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
All set!
I have a firm date now to get this tumor removed, and I couldn't be more ready. The OSU surgeon we met with on Friday, Dr. Melvin, will take it out on Feb. 12.
The final decision came down to different types of experience. Removing large tumors from the abdomen is apparently something that this doctor does almost routinely. This is his home court, and I am confident he will not encounter something in my gut that he hasn't seen before.
Dr. Brenda is the best there is for breast surgery, and I will always recommend her in that capacity. She has given me great care for more than 12 years. She had a good game plan for removing my tumor, but she wouldn't have the home field advantage.
I had prayed for signs to help make the right choice between two good surgeons, so I had to smile as I was driving back to work on Friday from the meeting with Dr. Melvin at his off-campus office. Something on the right side of the road caught my attention: OSU Medical Center, next exit.
Well, I thought, that is a sign. Maybe that should be my next stop. As Tom and I discussed my options over the weekend, it became clearer that the road sign was the right one to follow.
The final decision came down to different types of experience. Removing large tumors from the abdomen is apparently something that this doctor does almost routinely. This is his home court, and I am confident he will not encounter something in my gut that he hasn't seen before.
Dr. Brenda is the best there is for breast surgery, and I will always recommend her in that capacity. She has given me great care for more than 12 years. She had a good game plan for removing my tumor, but she wouldn't have the home field advantage.
I had prayed for signs to help make the right choice between two good surgeons, so I had to smile as I was driving back to work on Friday from the meeting with Dr. Melvin at his off-campus office. Something on the right side of the road caught my attention: OSU Medical Center, next exit.
Well, I thought, that is a sign. Maybe that should be my next stop. As Tom and I discussed my options over the weekend, it became clearer that the road sign was the right one to follow.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Good choices
I was reminded again yesterday of how fortunate I am to live in a city with so many good physicians and to have health insurance that allows me to make choices between great options for care. It is sad to think many wage this battle without that critical ammunition.
Tom and I met with an OSU surgeon yesterday for a second opinion on removing the tumor that continues to grow in my gut. It was clear in this consultation that surgery is my next step, and it was comforting to know there is more than one surgeon in town ready to do the job. My goal is to make a decision between two good surgeons and get a firm surgery date scheduled on Monday. I know there are lots of prayers being lifted up for me to get this decision right.
As further testimony to my great medical care, Tom and I were amazed last night to hear from my oncologist. It was going on 8 p.m. when he called to see how I was doing this week and to make sure I was planning to go ahead with surgery. His concern was that I not delay, or we might need to throw more chemo at the tumor and not leave it on its own.
Thank God for men and women who have dedicated themselves to taking good care of the rest of us!
Tom and I met with an OSU surgeon yesterday for a second opinion on removing the tumor that continues to grow in my gut. It was clear in this consultation that surgery is my next step, and it was comforting to know there is more than one surgeon in town ready to do the job. My goal is to make a decision between two good surgeons and get a firm surgery date scheduled on Monday. I know there are lots of prayers being lifted up for me to get this decision right.
As further testimony to my great medical care, Tom and I were amazed last night to hear from my oncologist. It was going on 8 p.m. when he called to see how I was doing this week and to make sure I was planning to go ahead with surgery. His concern was that I not delay, or we might need to throw more chemo at the tumor and not leave it on its own.
Thank God for men and women who have dedicated themselves to taking good care of the rest of us!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Just what I need
It is amazing how little spirit boosters pop up just when you need them most.
Reminders of the love and support that surround me have been abundant this week as I have faced some difficult realities of my situation. They came in the form of calls and notes from friends I hadn't heard from in a while, homemade cookies and a card of encouragement left in our mailbox, a gift symbolizing bonds of friendship delivered to my home, and hugs over lunch.
The messages touched my heart: "Stay strong," "You help give me courage," "Thinking of you," "I love your positive thoughts." How can I not stay strong and keep thinking positively when I have such encouragement?
Friends have also shared knowledge and experience that are strengthening my resolve to go ahead with the surgery in a little over two weeks from now. They are helping me see beyond the surgery to recovery and renewed good health.
From childhood Sunday school lessons and the shared faith of others, I have learned to believe God gives us what we need to face any challenge. This week has been a celebration of that belief in action.
Reminders of the love and support that surround me have been abundant this week as I have faced some difficult realities of my situation. They came in the form of calls and notes from friends I hadn't heard from in a while, homemade cookies and a card of encouragement left in our mailbox, a gift symbolizing bonds of friendship delivered to my home, and hugs over lunch.
The messages touched my heart: "Stay strong," "You help give me courage," "Thinking of you," "I love your positive thoughts." How can I not stay strong and keep thinking positively when I have such encouragement?
Friends have also shared knowledge and experience that are strengthening my resolve to go ahead with the surgery in a little over two weeks from now. They are helping me see beyond the surgery to recovery and renewed good health.
From childhood Sunday school lessons and the shared faith of others, I have learned to believe God gives us what we need to face any challenge. This week has been a celebration of that belief in action.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Long and short of it
Time is such a funny commodity.
If someone had told me in September when I began this journey that I was facing five months of tests and treatment before I could rid my body of this tumor, it would have seemed interminable. Putting one foot in front of the other, with so many steps between me and my destination, would have been a huge challenge. Taking it in smaller chunks of one doctor's visit to the next, one chemo cycle at a time, sometimes one day at a time, has been so much more manageable.
Looking ahead to surgery and recovery, the time seems very short indeed. Yesterday I began plotting the tasks that will need to be accomplished while I am off work and filling in who will be covering what in my absence. Putting it on paper like that -- targeting a return to work by the end of March -- struck me as incredibly soon.
Winter will barely be over, spring just beginning. The timing couldn't be more perfect! And it will be here before I know it. Funny how time is long or short depending on what you see coming down the road.
If someone had told me in September when I began this journey that I was facing five months of tests and treatment before I could rid my body of this tumor, it would have seemed interminable. Putting one foot in front of the other, with so many steps between me and my destination, would have been a huge challenge. Taking it in smaller chunks of one doctor's visit to the next, one chemo cycle at a time, sometimes one day at a time, has been so much more manageable.
Looking ahead to surgery and recovery, the time seems very short indeed. Yesterday I began plotting the tasks that will need to be accomplished while I am off work and filling in who will be covering what in my absence. Putting it on paper like that -- targeting a return to work by the end of March -- struck me as incredibly soon.
Winter will barely be over, spring just beginning. The timing couldn't be more perfect! And it will be here before I know it. Funny how time is long or short depending on what you see coming down the road.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Getting closer
I am closing in on a date for surgery and feeling pretty good about it.
Tom and I liked most of the answers we got yesterday from Dr. Brenda. I am keeping an appointment with an OSU surgeon on Friday just for another perspective, but my comfort level with having Dr. Brenda do the surgery has increased. Factors weighing heavily in that direction are speed and the ability to have the surgery done in Columbus, where my support network is strong. Plus, I know from experience that she is a good surgeon.
Speed is important because the tumor is being stubborn. There was a brief period in November when it did start to shrink, but now it is growing again. As it grows, so do the risks. We penciled in February 11 as the date for surgery, awaiting only my final OK. I anticipate making it official by Monday, assuming the OSU surgeon does not introduce new issues to give me pause.
The love and support that I feel all around me here is equally important. I know prayers and positive thoughts would follow me if I seek treatment out of state, but there is great power in knowing others are nearby to keep not only me but my family strong. It won't be easy for my family to wait through the four-hour surgery, but it will be better if they can do it together and with their support networks also intact.
Here's a cheery thought on this cold winter day: mid-February surgery and a six-week or so recovery period means I might be ready for golf season this year!
Tom and I liked most of the answers we got yesterday from Dr. Brenda. I am keeping an appointment with an OSU surgeon on Friday just for another perspective, but my comfort level with having Dr. Brenda do the surgery has increased. Factors weighing heavily in that direction are speed and the ability to have the surgery done in Columbus, where my support network is strong. Plus, I know from experience that she is a good surgeon.
Speed is important because the tumor is being stubborn. There was a brief period in November when it did start to shrink, but now it is growing again. As it grows, so do the risks. We penciled in February 11 as the date for surgery, awaiting only my final OK. I anticipate making it official by Monday, assuming the OSU surgeon does not introduce new issues to give me pause.
The love and support that I feel all around me here is equally important. I know prayers and positive thoughts would follow me if I seek treatment out of state, but there is great power in knowing others are nearby to keep not only me but my family strong. It won't be easy for my family to wait through the four-hour surgery, but it will be better if they can do it together and with their support networks also intact.
Here's a cheery thought on this cold winter day: mid-February surgery and a six-week or so recovery period means I might be ready for golf season this year!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
What's up, doc?
Tom and I are meeting with a surgeon today, and we have a full list of questions.
We have two of these meetings set for this week to try to help decide if I can have this tumor safely removed in Columbus or whether it would be better to travel to a more specialized cancer center out of state.
I want to make sure we are asking all the questions we should. I want the doctor to lay out all the scenarios, worst case along with best case. Full disclosure being the standard, I know we will hear things we don't want to hear, but that's OK.
I remember a message from a seminar years ago about how to keep your frustrations in check. The presenter was a psychologist who specialized in helping people deal with stress. His advice was to keep your standards high but your expectations low. Then if the road ahead is difficult, well, that's what you were prepared to encounter. But if things turn out even better than you expected, it is that much sweeter.
We have two of these meetings set for this week to try to help decide if I can have this tumor safely removed in Columbus or whether it would be better to travel to a more specialized cancer center out of state.
I want to make sure we are asking all the questions we should. I want the doctor to lay out all the scenarios, worst case along with best case. Full disclosure being the standard, I know we will hear things we don't want to hear, but that's OK.
I remember a message from a seminar years ago about how to keep your frustrations in check. The presenter was a psychologist who specialized in helping people deal with stress. His advice was to keep your standards high but your expectations low. Then if the road ahead is difficult, well, that's what you were prepared to encounter. But if things turn out even better than you expected, it is that much sweeter.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
My card
It is probably a sure sign that you're taking yourself too seriously when you start handing out business cards for a personal enterprise.
Well, I'm guilty. Enjoying a free afternoon yesterday, I started playing with some new project-creator software and came up with business cards to direct people to this blog.
They're pretty simple. My name, e-mail address, the URL for the blog and this invitation: "Follow my cancer treatment progress, and hopefully find inspiration for facing your own challenges."
That last part is in the smallest type size so as not to be too presumptuous. But I've always been pretty transparent, and the truth is it gives me a great deal of encouragement when I hear others say they find hope for handling their own problems in my words.
It comes down to this: There is no more important work than for us to build each other up.
Well, I'm guilty. Enjoying a free afternoon yesterday, I started playing with some new project-creator software and came up with business cards to direct people to this blog.
They're pretty simple. My name, e-mail address, the URL for the blog and this invitation: "Follow my cancer treatment progress, and hopefully find inspiration for facing your own challenges."
That last part is in the smallest type size so as not to be too presumptuous. But I've always been pretty transparent, and the truth is it gives me a great deal of encouragement when I hear others say they find hope for handling their own problems in my words.
It comes down to this: There is no more important work than for us to build each other up.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Cut it out!
Maybe I was just tired from a busy week. Maybe I just didn't know what to expect, but at first I was disappointed with the report I got yesterday from my doc. The tumor board had met, and their recommendations pointed toward surgery. Isn't this what I want?
The problem is, they were not saying the tumor is dead and has started to shrink, so it's safe to take it out now. A good chunk of the tumor is dead, but it is still a formidable mass, and even a bit larger. And, like a volcano, it is still active at the top.
Dr. Sarwar's words were consistent with what I have been feeling. I can tell it is larger, and I can feel twinges sometimes - like a muscle clenching - in the area where cancer cells are alive. The doctor is great at speaking straight; he could not say whether chemo was responsible for the dead tissue or whether it resulted from a lack of blood flow to the lower part of the tumor.
Radiation was ruled out as a strategy to try to shrink the tumor, for which I am thankful. Trying a different chemotherapy which would require hospitalization was mentioned but not strongly pushed. That's fine, too. The question now is finding the right surgeon, possibly at a major cancer center in NYC or Houston.
It helped that Dr. Brenda called last night. She didn't mince words that the surgery would be difficult and risky, but she has not taken herself out of consideration for the job. And she supports my quest for other opinions.
The challenge for coming weeks will be researching my options and landing on the right choice. I'm feeling better now about moving closer to surgery.
The problem is, they were not saying the tumor is dead and has started to shrink, so it's safe to take it out now. A good chunk of the tumor is dead, but it is still a formidable mass, and even a bit larger. And, like a volcano, it is still active at the top.
Dr. Sarwar's words were consistent with what I have been feeling. I can tell it is larger, and I can feel twinges sometimes - like a muscle clenching - in the area where cancer cells are alive. The doctor is great at speaking straight; he could not say whether chemo was responsible for the dead tissue or whether it resulted from a lack of blood flow to the lower part of the tumor.
Radiation was ruled out as a strategy to try to shrink the tumor, for which I am thankful. Trying a different chemotherapy which would require hospitalization was mentioned but not strongly pushed. That's fine, too. The question now is finding the right surgeon, possibly at a major cancer center in NYC or Houston.
It helped that Dr. Brenda called last night. She didn't mince words that the surgery would be difficult and risky, but she has not taken herself out of consideration for the job. And she supports my quest for other opinions.
The challenge for coming weeks will be researching my options and landing on the right choice. I'm feeling better now about moving closer to surgery.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Oh baby!
I wore my flippy new wig yesterday and received a lot of compliments on it. Some folks said it made me look younger. Too young to be a grandmother?
Yes, I said "grandmother!" My daughter is now into her second trimester and is finally comfortable with sharing the news that will soon become obvious: Mandy and Andy are expecting a baby in July!
Tom and I are thrilled, as are Mandy and Andy and the rest of the extended family. There hasn't been a baby in the family for almost five years. The excitement about this one on the way has been hard to contain, but it's been kind of nice, too, to share in the secret until Mandy was ready to let others in on the news.
I have reflected many times in recent weeks at the amazing timing of this baby, this blessing of love. Of course I have great resolve to get through my cancer treatment and return to good health. But now it's for a greater purpose; I have a grandchild coming! What more incentive can there be to beat this challenge? I can't think of any.
Yes, I said "grandmother!" My daughter is now into her second trimester and is finally comfortable with sharing the news that will soon become obvious: Mandy and Andy are expecting a baby in July!
Tom and I are thrilled, as are Mandy and Andy and the rest of the extended family. There hasn't been a baby in the family for almost five years. The excitement about this one on the way has been hard to contain, but it's been kind of nice, too, to share in the secret until Mandy was ready to let others in on the news.
I have reflected many times in recent weeks at the amazing timing of this baby, this blessing of love. Of course I have great resolve to get through my cancer treatment and return to good health. But now it's for a greater purpose; I have a grandchild coming! What more incentive can there be to beat this challenge? I can't think of any.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Looking deeper
I've been thinking a lot about an important meeting coming up later this week. It may be one of the most important meetings regarding my future, but I won't be there.
The meeting is of the "tumor board" at Grant Medical Center. It may not be the kind of board its participants list on their resumes, but I am ranking it pretty high on the personal impact scale. The tumor board brings together physicians from various specialties to discuss the best course of action for particular cases. I am on the agenda for Friday morning.
Oncologists, radiologists and surgeons will look over results of the PET scan I am having tomorrow, study my medical history and offer advice about my treatment. I probably don't look that great on paper -- former breast cancer patient with new cancer diagnosis; large lump in the abdomen that came on quickly and grew rapidly; questionable response to current chemotherapy.
I want to tell them something more about me. Hey, I'm a really healthy person! I'm strong and I have a great support system. Give me your best shot!
I am reminded of the headhunter I met with more than 16 years ago when I was interviewing for my current job. He told me I didn't look that good on paper (I'd only ever been a newspaper reporter) but he understood after talking with me why I was being recommended for the job. It's like that; I want the tumor board to see more than how I look on paper.
The meeting is of the "tumor board" at Grant Medical Center. It may not be the kind of board its participants list on their resumes, but I am ranking it pretty high on the personal impact scale. The tumor board brings together physicians from various specialties to discuss the best course of action for particular cases. I am on the agenda for Friday morning.
Oncologists, radiologists and surgeons will look over results of the PET scan I am having tomorrow, study my medical history and offer advice about my treatment. I probably don't look that great on paper -- former breast cancer patient with new cancer diagnosis; large lump in the abdomen that came on quickly and grew rapidly; questionable response to current chemotherapy.
I want to tell them something more about me. Hey, I'm a really healthy person! I'm strong and I have a great support system. Give me your best shot!
I am reminded of the headhunter I met with more than 16 years ago when I was interviewing for my current job. He told me I didn't look that good on paper (I'd only ever been a newspaper reporter) but he understood after talking with me why I was being recommended for the job. It's like that; I want the tumor board to see more than how I look on paper.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Marking time
It's my chemo crash day -- two days after Friday's double dose -- but I'm not as exhausted as usual, probably because the doc changed the treatment order and this double dose followed two weeks without chemo. So, I'm still in my robe and pajamas but having trouble keeping myself in bed. It seemed like a good day to balance three months' of checking account statements.
I like to save up three or four months at a time and then tell myself stories as I check off the debits. Usually the stories are enjoyable as I drift back to a vacation or fun shopping trip with my mom or daughter reflected in the columns of numbers.
There were some of those as I went back through checks and debit card purchases from September, October and November. But there was a new, sad demarcation as well -- separating items from just before I discovered my lump to those that followed, including a sizable collection of checks written for doctor's office co-pays and deductibles for various tests and treatment.
Then, I saw the final tuition payment for Ben's OSU education and smiled. I recall how that day seemed a long time coming. I will remember it during moments when being done with medical bills for cancer treatment appears to be out of reach. As my mom likes to say, "This, too, will pass."
I like to save up three or four months at a time and then tell myself stories as I check off the debits. Usually the stories are enjoyable as I drift back to a vacation or fun shopping trip with my mom or daughter reflected in the columns of numbers.
There were some of those as I went back through checks and debit card purchases from September, October and November. But there was a new, sad demarcation as well -- separating items from just before I discovered my lump to those that followed, including a sizable collection of checks written for doctor's office co-pays and deductibles for various tests and treatment.
Then, I saw the final tuition payment for Ben's OSU education and smiled. I recall how that day seemed a long time coming. I will remember it during moments when being done with medical bills for cancer treatment appears to be out of reach. As my mom likes to say, "This, too, will pass."
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Flipped around
My oncologist surprised me yesterday by ordering a change in the order of my chemotherapy drugs in this fifth cycle. Instead of starting the cycle yesterday with the single drug, Gemzar, he called for the double dose, adding Taxotere to the regimen. The change was prompted by the doctor's office cancelling my Jan. 2 session, which should have been the first week of this cycle.
It's fine with me. I had kind of hoped anyhow that the one-week delay in treatment would shake things up a bit and maybe put this tumor on the run. I figure changing the order of the doses could contribute to better results. Funny thing is, one of the chemo nurses told me doing the double dose first, then the single dose and then a week off is their typical protocol for the drug for the drugs I'm receiving.
The doctor also ordered a positron emission tomography (PET) scan for Wednesday. He explained this scan can provide information as to the cancer activity within the tumor, rather than just measuring its dimensions. In other words, is this mass which is being stubborn about shrinking still active inside or have the cancer cells died? Results will be shared Friday with the hospital's tumor board -- a collection of various cancer experts who will help recommend the best treatment course.
I am hoping surgery is still an option. The oncologist said radiation will likely be discussed as an interim step. All prayers for good test results and then for the docs to make the best decisions are appreciated!
It's fine with me. I had kind of hoped anyhow that the one-week delay in treatment would shake things up a bit and maybe put this tumor on the run. I figure changing the order of the doses could contribute to better results. Funny thing is, one of the chemo nurses told me doing the double dose first, then the single dose and then a week off is their typical protocol for the drug for the drugs I'm receiving.
The doctor also ordered a positron emission tomography (PET) scan for Wednesday. He explained this scan can provide information as to the cancer activity within the tumor, rather than just measuring its dimensions. In other words, is this mass which is being stubborn about shrinking still active inside or have the cancer cells died? Results will be shared Friday with the hospital's tumor board -- a collection of various cancer experts who will help recommend the best treatment course.
I am hoping surgery is still an option. The oncologist said radiation will likely be discussed as an interim step. All prayers for good test results and then for the docs to make the best decisions are appreciated!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Pardon me
I received a sure sign yesterday that blogging has become mainstream. It was in the new software we have started using for our computers at work. I learned Microsoft Word now allows you to write something in Word and post it from there straight to a blog. And this is in the 2007 version of Microsoft Word!
The widespread acceptance of blogging underscores a dilemma I have wrestled with since I started writing this online journal back in October to help me through my cancer treatment. It is this question of blogging etiquette: When someone posts a comment on your blog, are you expected to write a comment back?
That has not been my practice, and I worry that I have offended some of my commentators (if that is what they should be called) by not commenting back to acknowledging their comments. I really do appreciate it when people leave comments; it lifts my spirits and reinforces my resolve to continue blogging. But if I comment back, then are they supposed to re-comment? Where would it end? Mostly I try to thank them in person, in a note, or in a separate e-mail.
I don't want to be guilty of poor blogging manners, but the truth is I was not much for reading blogs before starting this one. And consistency is a pet peeve of mine, so I feel like I've already drawn a line against commenting on comments by my practice of not doing so to this point. So please forgive me, dear readers and cheerleaders, if you were looking for a comment to your comment. The lack of my comments wasn't because I don't care.
The widespread acceptance of blogging underscores a dilemma I have wrestled with since I started writing this online journal back in October to help me through my cancer treatment. It is this question of blogging etiquette: When someone posts a comment on your blog, are you expected to write a comment back?
That has not been my practice, and I worry that I have offended some of my commentators (if that is what they should be called) by not commenting back to acknowledging their comments. I really do appreciate it when people leave comments; it lifts my spirits and reinforces my resolve to continue blogging. But if I comment back, then are they supposed to re-comment? Where would it end? Mostly I try to thank them in person, in a note, or in a separate e-mail.
I don't want to be guilty of poor blogging manners, but the truth is I was not much for reading blogs before starting this one. And consistency is a pet peeve of mine, so I feel like I've already drawn a line against commenting on comments by my practice of not doing so to this point. So please forgive me, dear readers and cheerleaders, if you were looking for a comment to your comment. The lack of my comments wasn't because I don't care.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Fried, and steamed
A sad little story can now be told because it has a happy ending: I fried my wig on New Year's Eve.
Not the whole wig, but a good chunk of the bangs in front. We were engaged in our tradition of cooking a gourmet dinner with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law. I was having such a good time, I didn't even realize it had happened until I caught my reflection in a mirror a bit later in the evening.
As I looked closer in horror, I knew at once why my bangs were matted and crispy to the touch. I had opened the oven door to tend to a dish without thinking. I had forgotten about my cancer; forgotten I was wearing a synthetic wig to cover the ravages of chemo. When I came out of the bathroom in a more somber mood, my family tried to assure me it didn't look that bad, although they had wondered why my bangs suddenly looked different.
I didn't let it ruin my evening but the next day I got out the scissors. I told myself the bangs had been a bit too thick anyhow and a little thinning would be good. The trim and a new little sweep to the side let me wear the wig to work and church without attracting stares but I knew anyone who looked too close would see sizzled strands across my forehead.
An angel came to the rescue. I tracked down Brenda, who runs the shop where I got my wig 12 years ago. I hadn't confessed anything when I made my appointment for yesterday but she grinned and knew what had happened as soon as she saw me. A little steam would take care of the fried bangs, she assured me. And it did!
I came out of Brenda's shop at St. Ann's Hospital with refurbished bangs, renewed self-confidence and an order for a flippy new wig that I'll pick up next week, just so I can have a change of style once in a while. And next time I'm using the oven, I'll be more careful no matter how much fun I'm having!
Not the whole wig, but a good chunk of the bangs in front. We were engaged in our tradition of cooking a gourmet dinner with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law. I was having such a good time, I didn't even realize it had happened until I caught my reflection in a mirror a bit later in the evening.
As I looked closer in horror, I knew at once why my bangs were matted and crispy to the touch. I had opened the oven door to tend to a dish without thinking. I had forgotten about my cancer; forgotten I was wearing a synthetic wig to cover the ravages of chemo. When I came out of the bathroom in a more somber mood, my family tried to assure me it didn't look that bad, although they had wondered why my bangs suddenly looked different.
I didn't let it ruin my evening but the next day I got out the scissors. I told myself the bangs had been a bit too thick anyhow and a little thinning would be good. The trim and a new little sweep to the side let me wear the wig to work and church without attracting stares but I knew anyone who looked too close would see sizzled strands across my forehead.
An angel came to the rescue. I tracked down Brenda, who runs the shop where I got my wig 12 years ago. I hadn't confessed anything when I made my appointment for yesterday but she grinned and knew what had happened as soon as she saw me. A little steam would take care of the fried bangs, she assured me. And it did!
I came out of Brenda's shop at St. Ann's Hospital with refurbished bangs, renewed self-confidence and an order for a flippy new wig that I'll pick up next week, just so I can have a change of style once in a while. And next time I'm using the oven, I'll be more careful no matter how much fun I'm having!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Ho hum, or ho ho!
This week marks the return to routine; no more big holidays for a long stretch now.
My first thought was one of gloom, but the more I ponder it, the more attractive routine becomes. Routine, as in life on an even keel, without serious health concerns, without fears of the big unknowns, without big stresses. We've given routine a bad rap when maybe we should embrace it.
How nice in this 2009 of economic uncertainty to return to the routine of 2007 or even early 2008. Did we appreciate the solid comfort of routine back then? Get up, work a full week, pay the bills and take care of the family, enjoy a little down time on weekends. How routine! How predictable! How wonderful?
Here's to a return to routine: may many more of us celebrate it this year!
My first thought was one of gloom, but the more I ponder it, the more attractive routine becomes. Routine, as in life on an even keel, without serious health concerns, without fears of the big unknowns, without big stresses. We've given routine a bad rap when maybe we should embrace it.
How nice in this 2009 of economic uncertainty to return to the routine of 2007 or even early 2008. Did we appreciate the solid comfort of routine back then? Get up, work a full week, pay the bills and take care of the family, enjoy a little down time on weekends. How routine! How predictable! How wonderful?
Here's to a return to routine: may many more of us celebrate it this year!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Forward in faith
I recently completed an act of faith. For the past 10 years or so, I have made a calendar for my extended family of parent, siblings and in-laws. As children have come of age and moved out on their own, they have received their own copy to track birthdays, anniversaries and significant family events.
The format has changed over the years and evolved into the current Mock Flock Gazette approach. This year, instead of making up news stories about each family member during months marking their birthdays and wedding anniversaries, I created personal ads. I also invited family members to submit photos of themselves, since they haven't always been pleased with the photos I chose to commemorate their special days.
I have a lot of fun creating the calendar as I strive to capture a bit of the essence of each individual and then add a twist of humor or exaggeration. Sometimes the scenarios I paint for family members even give me the giggles. The new edition of the Gazette has been very well received, producing the smiles and laughs intended.
Creating the calendar is an act of faith because it presumes that birthdays and anniversaries will occur as scheduled; that family members will all be well and on good terms throughout the course of the next 12 months; that a nephew will go off to college and a niece will be married as planned. Just to be on the safe side, the calendar is knit together with more than a few prayers for the well-being of all who grace its pages.
The format has changed over the years and evolved into the current Mock Flock Gazette approach. This year, instead of making up news stories about each family member during months marking their birthdays and wedding anniversaries, I created personal ads. I also invited family members to submit photos of themselves, since they haven't always been pleased with the photos I chose to commemorate their special days.
I have a lot of fun creating the calendar as I strive to capture a bit of the essence of each individual and then add a twist of humor or exaggeration. Sometimes the scenarios I paint for family members even give me the giggles. The new edition of the Gazette has been very well received, producing the smiles and laughs intended.
Creating the calendar is an act of faith because it presumes that birthdays and anniversaries will occur as scheduled; that family members will all be well and on good terms throughout the course of the next 12 months; that a nephew will go off to college and a niece will be married as planned. Just to be on the safe side, the calendar is knit together with more than a few prayers for the well-being of all who grace its pages.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Putting it away
What goes up must come down.
So it goes with Christmas decorations, and today is the day Tom and I have agreed we will say goodbye, at least temporarily, to the festive lights, garland, tree and all the other pretty and sentimental doo-dads we have accumulated over the years. They will go back into their boxes and tucked away in the crawlspace until next year.
What goes up must come down with my tumor, too. How nice it would be to schedule a day for that! OK, tumor, it's been fun while it lasted, but now it's time to pack you away -- forever.
I am holding fast to the thought that the day will come to pack the tumor away. It helps that so many family members and friends are holding that thought for me also, and offering prayers in support of its fruition.
So it goes with Christmas decorations, and today is the day Tom and I have agreed we will say goodbye, at least temporarily, to the festive lights, garland, tree and all the other pretty and sentimental doo-dads we have accumulated over the years. They will go back into their boxes and tucked away in the crawlspace until next year.
What goes up must come down with my tumor, too. How nice it would be to schedule a day for that! OK, tumor, it's been fun while it lasted, but now it's time to pack you away -- forever.
I am holding fast to the thought that the day will come to pack the tumor away. It helps that so many family members and friends are holding that thought for me also, and offering prayers in support of its fruition.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Postponed
Today should have been the start of a new cycle of chemotherapy, but it has been delayed a week and I have faith it will be for the best.
On this Friday after a holiday, apparently there were no other patients in my oncologist's practice who were in the mood for treatment. Rather than have the doctor commit his day to seeing just one patient, the office scheduler asked if I would be OK with postponing. I agreed but with the condition that my treatments continue to be scheduled on Fridays. Having already tried it once, I am not willing to receive chemo on a Monday and then have a mid-week crash day. It just takes too big a bite out of the week.
When the scheduler said the doctor agreed with a week's delay, I figured something good will come from this delay. Maybe throwing the treatment off a week will throw a curve ball at the tumor. We'll lull it into thinking the chemo attack is over and then, bam! We'll hit it again! Maybe the shakeup will cause it to cry "Uncle!" and finally shrivel up and go away.
Do I have fun with my fantasies or what?
On this Friday after a holiday, apparently there were no other patients in my oncologist's practice who were in the mood for treatment. Rather than have the doctor commit his day to seeing just one patient, the office scheduler asked if I would be OK with postponing. I agreed but with the condition that my treatments continue to be scheduled on Fridays. Having already tried it once, I am not willing to receive chemo on a Monday and then have a mid-week crash day. It just takes too big a bite out of the week.
When the scheduler said the doctor agreed with a week's delay, I figured something good will come from this delay. Maybe throwing the treatment off a week will throw a curve ball at the tumor. We'll lull it into thinking the chemo attack is over and then, bam! We'll hit it again! Maybe the shakeup will cause it to cry "Uncle!" and finally shrivel up and go away.
Do I have fun with my fantasies or what?
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Who I want to be
During a lovely New Year's Eve dinner with family last night, the subject came up of New Year's Resolutions.
I shared a thought that was not original but borrowed from a wise young woman I admire professionally. She told me a mentor of hers advocates creating "to be" lists instead of "to do" lists. The idea is to envision the person you want to be and list the attributes important to that vision. I'm still working on identifying all the attributes, but among them will be:
I shared a thought that was not original but borrowed from a wise young woman I admire professionally. She told me a mentor of hers advocates creating "to be" lists instead of "to do" lists. The idea is to envision the person you want to be and list the attributes important to that vision. I'm still working on identifying all the attributes, but among them will be:
- Faith-filled
- Grateful
- Happy
- Healthy
If I can keep my to-be list in front of me and do my best to live up to its aspirations, it should be a pretty good year.
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