Keyboard Confessions: The Post Chemo I Have My Life Back Edition

I like lists.  So there.

1.  Chemo is finally over.  That tremor you felt was me jumping for joy.

2.  Although, that fact that it's over didn't hit me until today.  Let's throw a party.

3.  My hairs are growing back.  Just a wee bit.  Just enough that when I walk really fast, they kind of blow around.  I feel like I have a Chia Head.

4.  I shall soon be getting rid of these blasted expanders.  I shall not cry when they leave my body.  Nosirree.

5.  For three weeks, my right eye watered constantly.  It was a chemo side effect.  So I rubbed my eye to remove said water.  This means, for three weeks I had no make up on my right eye.

6.  I practically reek of class and sex appeal.

7.  You know the one benefit to chemo?  Besides adding years to my life, of course.  I only had to shave my legs once a month.  I know.  Feel free to be jealous.

8.  I met Kiersten White, author of Paranormalcy last weekend.  She signed on my copy of her book  "You're bleeping awesome", which I'm pretty sure she signed on everyone's copy.  But still.  I felt pretty bleeping awesome.

9.  I have to drive some friends to the airport in a few minutes.  It's very late at night.   And I am var var tired.  Therefore, I shall sing R&B songs var var loudly to stay awake.  I'm feeling the TLC "No Scrubs" vibe tonight.

10.  NaNoWriMo is coming up.  Remember that little novel thingy I'm working on?  Well.  What if I told you I was going to work on it some more.  Would you believe me?  Yeah.  I wouldn't believe me either.  You know me so well, reader.

11.  I've made Christmas presents for almost everyone already.  Keep feeling jealous, people.

12.  I think I need a tattoo.

13.  I discovered this week that the lady at the Chick Fil A drive thru window knows who I am now.  I was like, 70%/30% proud/embarrassed.  Apparently, I eat out a bit too much.

14.  A friend of mine emailed me saying she was going to sing at a fundraiser concert for the Susan G. Komen foundation and wanted to know what songs inspired me whilst I dealt with this cancer biz.  I was like "Paper Planes by MIA?  Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People?"  Ok, so I admit my musical tastes are lacking in the inspirational department.

15.  I had a milkshake about an hour ago.  Which means in about an hour I am going to be hating life.  Why do I make these choices, I ask you?


I shall go drink some Diet Coke now, lest I fall asleep driving.

Nighty night, my fine readers.

Welp, it's time for another update from yours truly.

You know, let me aside for a moment before I jump into this long overdue post.  "Yours truly".  Just what exactly does that mean?  What if I'm not being true?  "Yours white lyingly"  "Yours just kidding"  "Yours had you going there".

Also, I talk like I'm cranky because I am cranky.  Just call me Cranky McCrankerson.  It's because I've not had a Twizzler in (carries the two, divides by soup cans, multiplies by no cable television) A WHOLE MONTH.

Also, I'm so over all this dumb chemo biz.

So, it's with joy that I announce my last chemo will be this next Tuesday.  Although, it's hard to look forward to Tuesday knowing how lousy I shall feel once Tuesday comes.

I'm over it all.

I'm over heating pad burns on my arms that take weeks to heal.

I'm over having no hair.

I'm over two week long periods because my girly organs are freaking out.

I'm over runny noses, and mouth sores, and feeling like my stomach hates my guts (get it?  hates my guts?).

Let me take a quick break so I can change my lousy attitude.

brb

Ok.  Just took some happy pills.  Aka, Chewy Chips Ahoy Cookies.  Little discs of chocolately pleasure.  I was going to save them for my husband, but, clearly I needed them more than he did.

Where were we?  Oh yes, all that poison and vitriol spewing from my fingertips.

Tell you what.  Why don't I highlight the good?  Yes?  Ok.

1.  I'm back at work.  This is nice.  My employers work with my crazy, bizarre, erratic chemo schedule.  They're way supportive and encouraging.  And I get paid.  So.  It's awesome.

2.  I had my last expander fill.  I no longer have problems sleeping on my stomach.  It's a wee bit weird when I bend over and the liquid sloshes around, but, whatever.  This is temporary.

3.  I'll have my "exchange" surgery sometime in November.  Switching the expanders for silicone implants.

4.  Pinterest.  The most addictive website ever.  Are you on it?  Are you a Pinterest Addict?

5.  Glee is back on.

6.  I'm sewing again.  Sewing stuff That's Sew Rad.  <--- my future etsy.com shop name is hidden in that sentence.  Betcha can't figure out what it is.  Also, I bet someone steals my uber cool shop name.  Alas.

7.  I'm in love with this song:



Such a nice message this song has.  Seriously.  Yet I lurrrrrve it.

8.  NaNoWriMo is just a couple of months away.  My wee novel is demanding attention.  Remember the excerpt I posted?  Well, I got lots mores to writes, yo.  <--- an excellent example of grammar and elocution.  Is it any wonder I tries to be a writer, yo?

9.  I still have eyebrows.  *High fives*

10.  I've been organizing Chez Murphy.  *Low fives*  Also, ask me how The Hubs feels about me organizing Chez Murphy?  Soon I shall highlight all my mad skillz of organization.  Also, I stole some ideas from Pinterest.  That's the way I roll.

Peace out, people of the innernets.

On losing my hair

So the day appeared.  The day I knew was coming.  The day I'd lose my hair.

It was a Tuesday.  Just a normal Tuesday.  I ran my fingers through my hair and a wad of strands lay in my hand.

It was about durn time. 

Seriously.  From the moment I was unhooked from the chemo needle I've been waiting for this.  I was beginning to think I was an anomaly, that maybe my hair would just stick there.  Because, word, I have got some thick hair.

No really.  I make hairdressers earn their money.  Every single one of them tells me how thick my hair is.

However, thick hair does not mean good hair.

No, it doesn't.

So yesterday morning, whilst showering, I happened to look down at the floor of the tub and saw copious amounts of blackish strands circling the drain.  That's when I knew.  It was time.  Time to shave it off.

I've had some time to think about it.  I admit, I was pretty emotional sitting in the oncologist's office, discussing the effects of chemo and hair loss being the most prominent.  I cried.  I won't lie.  It turns out I am very vain.  And whilst I complain about my ever chronic bad hair days, I had hair.  Hair is normal.  Bad hair is normal.

But then, my Hubs reminded me that I get the very rare opportunity to see myself bald.  I mean, who didn't wonder what they looked like sans hair when Sinead O'Connor came on the scene?  So, in that regard, I'm pretty lucky.  I also know what I look like sans nipples.

But that's another story.

So, here it is, Thursday night, and I'm perched on a chair in the middle of my bathroom, a towel draped around my shoulders to prevent hairs from attaching themselves to me.  Yeah, that really didn't work, but whatever.

My Hubs is sniffling and holding his electric shaver.  My oldest daughter, Emma, perched on the side of the tub to take pictures of me with her Daddy's iPrecious.  (Really, I think she just was there to play on the iPhone, but whatever.  She said supportive and nice things.)  My youngest daughter, Addie, fled the room.  I think watching me being scalped was upsetting to her.  I can't say I blame her.

We got the before picture, good advice from others who went through this process.  Lance discovered soon that my uber thick hair was a true match for his electric razor so he grabbed my good craft scissors and went to work.  Snip snip snip.  Many snips later, he went back to the razor.  Buzz buzz buzz.  Dang, I have a lot of hair, y'all.

Pretty soon, it was done.  There's still stubble up there, in fact, there's quite a bit of it left.  But if I run my hand along my scalp, little stubbles come away with it, so I'm pretty sure in a few weeks, I'll resemble a cue ball.  I think that'll be way better than the rough side of Velcro feel I've got going on right now.

I didn't cry.  I think it's because I did it on *my* terms.  I didn't wait for chemo to snatch my hair out from under me.

This feels empowering.  I can handle it.

And because I know that all of you will wonder what I look like, I'm going to be an awesome friend to you and share with you what I look like now.

 I've even got a wand.

Chemo. The gift that keeps on giving.

So, since so many of you were clamoring for an update on Kearsie Healthwatch 2011, I thought I'd jot down a quick bloggyblog.  Ok, so there was only really one of you clamoring, but I aim to please.  So.

Chemo has begun.  I'm having my "good" week.  Which basically means that this week, all my side effects go away and I feel normal for just long enough to forget how lousy chemo is before I have to start the vicious cycle all over again.  I know.  It's kind of like menstruation.

Chemo is absolutely, 100% no fun.  I've only had one cycle thus far.  My next will be the 23rd.

Here's a quick rundown on what I went through whilst doing chemo:

*I am strapped up to the IV.  Two different nurses have to tackle this because apparently I have super strong veins that don't like to be pierced and as a result of their poking, I still have a bruise.  But that's ok because the other option is to get a port.  Poke away, nurses.  Bruises fade.

*I don't have allergic reaction to the two different chemo drugs selected for my torture:  Taxotere and Cytoxan.  But they go super slow at first, watching to see if I turn bright red or quit breathing.  This means that I sat with an IV for four hours.  No, I'm really not exaggerating.  I am glad I brought a book.

*My mouth tastes funny.  I try chewing gum and sucking on Jolly Ranchers but no dice.  Yep, this is my first side effect- my taste buds rebel against me.  This I will have to endure for 1 and 1/2 weeks.

*I am super tired.  Enter second side effect- extreme fatigue.  I go home and sleep the rest of the day.  And then half of the next day.  I will feel tired for many days.

*Nausea.  Because my name is Kearsie and this is how I roll.  Lots of nausea.  No vomiting, but many days of popping any and all nausea meds given to me in hopes that the stomach roiling goes away.  I will endure this for a week.  But I expected this, so I am not surprised.

*FIERCE HEADACHE.  It feels like ice picks are being driven through my temples.  No pain reliever completely takes it away, but thankfully, the headache fades around day 5 following chemo.  I am tough, I can take this, oh man thiskillswhereisthetylenol.....

*Hunger despite no taste.  Because of the steroids, I am starving.  I am nauseas, and have no taste buds, but I want to eat everything in sight.  Because of this, I gain 5 pounds.  I was told this could happen.  So therefore, I let myself eat ice cream straight from the carton.  The streroids are to keep me from getting a nasty rash on my arms and face.

*I break out all over my face.  It's not the rash.  It's just the regular hormones coursing through my body doing their monthly thing, only I seem to be super sensitive and respond by getting fierce acne.  Nice.  I feel 15 again.

*Joint pain, specifically in my lower back and pelvis.  This is because the day after chemo, I get a shot to boost my white blood cell count and it manifests the pain where the most bone marrow is.  I no longer feel 15, instead I feel 85.

And then, by around day 6, I feel better.  Not great, but better.  Soon, the nausea and headache and joint pain become a faded memory, and I do things like put on make up again, and clean my bathroom.  I even begin to cook again.  My face no longer holds my "I feel sick to my stomach" expression and I start walking upright again, not clutching my lower back whilst hobbling around the house.

I feel normal again.

Normal is very nice.

I'm very pleased that my phase of normal fell in the month coinciding with my two girls returning to school.  Today was their first day.  I still have my hair.  I did not stand out amongst the eighty bazillion other mothers there at school today dropping off their kids, meeting their teachers.  I feel very proud of my ability to blend in.

I will lose my hair this week.  It takes somewhere between 10-21 days to lose your hair following chemo.  And both of the medicines I have to take have hair loss as a side effect.  So I bought a hat.  No wig, because I've yet to find a place that my insurance pays for.  But it's hot outside, so maybe I won't want a wig anyway.

I also had a big talk with my girls, explaining to them that some kids might ask them questions why I am bald, or even make fun of me.  I tried to help them know what to think and say.  Here's hoping that was just a precautionary measure that won't be needed.

I was also very pleased that Emma's teacher is a two year cancer survivor, that she understands what our family is going through and will be a source of help for Emma, should she need it.

Survivors?  Are everywhere.  This is pretty cool.

So there you have it.  I'll be doing this chemo biz until mid October and then I'm done.  My IV bruises will fade.  My hair and nails will go back to growing normally.  I'll drink copious amounts of water to flush my kidneys.  I'll be ok.

It's so hot outside, it might be good to lose my hair.

At least it's not the middle of winter, yo.

So.  Chemo starts tomorrow.  I'll have four treatments.  Staggered by three weeks.  So, this sister is going to party down come mid-October.  Like, buy myself a whole bag of caramels and stash them in my underwear drawer so my kids can't have them.  Is that selfish?  Also, I did that last year so it really doesn't matter if it's selfish.  Also, the caramels will be a nice break from all the Twizzlers I've been downing.  Cannot.get.enough.Twizzlers.

My treatments are crazy long.  Like, over two hours long.  So this sister went to the library today and stocked up on young adult literature/romanctic drivels/sci-fi filled books.  Also, when I call myself "sister" I feel nunish.  Nunnish?  Nunlike?  One of those.  But like, the Whoopie Goldburg kind of nun.  As opposed to the "Climb Every Mountain" kind of nun.  Also, I hope I've not offended any nuns.

I got a phone call from an oncology nurse giving me the run down on all that will happen whilst I am on the chemo needle.  Basically?  It's this:

My body will rebel against me and everything that functions normally will not function henceforth normally and my eyesight might get fuzzy and my hearing might go dim and my joints might hurt and there might be fevers and insomnia and nausea out the wahoo and cats and dogs might marry each other and maybe California will, indeed, drop into the Pacific Ocean and maybe the Breaking Dawn movie will be as steamy as the previews go and anyways, I need to drink a lot of water to prevent urinary tract infections.

I know.  I'm so glad she called or else I wouldn't've known what to do when my body fell apart.

Meanwhile, I am applying for small loans to buy school supplies for my kids.  For real, people, as much as I love and adore buying school supplies, I'm pretty sure those kids are eating all those glue sticks for snacks and that's why I have to buy so many.  Also, I recycled that joke.  For all the new people who have just now happened upon me.  All two of you.

The squirrel keeps coming back to mock me.  So I stopped watering my plants just to spite him.  Actually, I stopped watering my plants because it was clear that:

a) these plants are never going to produce anything edible, except to the aphids
b) the squirrel will just eat everything out there and
c) I'm supremely lazy.

Also the squirrel pooped it's little squirrel poops all over my patio.

Not happy.

One might even say, unhappy.

I like not happy better.

That last sentence reads weird.

I did not find a wig yet.  Also, is it just me or is shopping for a wig as bizarre as shopping for, let's say, a new foot?  "Ooh I like this foot, it makes my leg look longer.  Maybe I'll go with the foot with the blue toenail polish.  Blue reminds me of Katy Perry.  But does it make my other foot look funny?  Also, what if it's too hot for this foot?  Alas, maybe I'll just buy a new sock."

And that's why I bought a hat.

I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts...dee del dee dee

Ok.  Mildly inappropriate.  Seeing as how I'm referring to my boosies.

So.  Shall I give you a glimpse into Chez Murphy and all it's glorious goings on?  Well, if you insist...

I shall type it in a list format.  For I miss my lists.

1.  I've had two "fills" in my expanders and it feels like I'm wearing a coconut bra.  Seriously.  These things are hard as rocks.  Well, rocks covered in flesh.  And I still have a billion more fills to go.

2.  A few days ago I discovered how to lay on my side in bed at night.  This was a joyous occasion seeing as how I was using borderline profanity at night, trying to find a comfortable position.  It only takes me five, maybe six pillows.  It's like I made a nest.  But I can sleep, so, I shall nest away.

3.  I amend that previous statement- I can sleep...if I take sleeping pills.  I am beginning to feel like a junkie.

4.  I have to start chemotherapy.  Whoa!  I just dropped that bomb in there!  That's the way I roll here at Chez Murphy.  Dropping bombs.  And participles.

I was unprepared for that little snippet of news.  But, given my age (35) and what they now think is the size of my tumor (2.7 cm), chemo is a no-brainer.  It makes the chance of reoccurrence from being 37% to 13%.  And I'm here to tell you, I will do practically anything to avoid going through this again.

Because my good attitude?  Has practically dried up.  I admit it.  I am borderline surly now.  Thank goodness you only have to read my drivels, let alone sit in the same room as me whilst I stew on my immediate future.

Also, bonus!  I will lose my hair!

Yes, that was said with smidgens of surliness.  I admit it.  I've not come to grips with being bald.  Or being eyebrowless.  Or eyelashless.   Also, my spell checker thingy is hating me.

There is something very strange in knowing you're allowing literal poison into your body, which will kill all fast growing cells, all for the hope that if any remaining cancer lingers in some tiny corner or closet in my liver, it will be killed.  It's a very bizarre reality.

5. We had family here.  There were 12 peoples in my apartment.  I'm happy to say the floor remained intact and didn't cave in on the folks living downstairs.  We had a great time, driving through the national parks of The Coloradoes, eating at just about every restaurant here, watching the five Tim Hawkins videos my besties on FB sent me, to keep me from slitting a wrist whilst recovering from my copious surgeries.  They were excellent therapy.

6.  A squirrel ate my strawberry plant.  We'd only harvested 6 berries from it.  Which means I paid approximately $10 for 6 strawberries.  I pretty much hate any and all squirrels and wish for their immediate death.

7.  We saw Harry Potter.  My brain was mostly drug free and I didn't trip out, as opposed to seeing the new Transformers right after taking a narcotic.  THAT was a Woodstock experience, I'm pretty sure.  I kept staring at the screen and thinking, is this real?  Trippy.  But back to HP.  There was only one scene that bothered me, which I smugly turned to my Hubs and said haughtily, "THAT'S not in the book."  And he called me out on my book purist pride.  I don't care, I was busy eating my smuggled in Twizzlers.

8.  Someone turned up the thermostat outside.  Hence why I shall not be buying a wig.  It is dadgummed hot outside.

9.  IKEA opens in two days.  We are so there.  If nothing else but for the meatballs.  Because this sister is craving meat.

10.  I did my own laundry the other day.  It felt so normal.  To think I used to complain about doing laundry.  And tonight?  I shall cook my first meal in practically a month.  Normalcy feels very good.

Eat a popsicle for me, so I can feel cool.  Also, that is a double meaning.  Also, I'm pretty sure it's worthless as I had to explain it.  Alas.