Bye-Bye Irma, It’s Been Real

Yesterday Irma was removed. Irma was my port in which chemotherapy was administered. It was a minor procedure with no fanfare. Just a little bruising and a few aches and a warning not to lift stuff with my right arm for a while. Yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.

Cancer is something that doesn’t let go of you, even when you know it’s been removed from your body. There’s always the what if in the back of my mind.

I guess I’ve been put into the cancer survivor category. Am I in remission? I don’t know. I can only hope.

For now, let’s just say I am feeling relieved and whole. I’ve started eating better except for the occasional splurge (like last Sunday’s calzone) and when I feel a bit a bit stronger I’ll do more outdoor walking. I still get tired easily but I’m not discouraged. I’m on the path to renewal.

And so dear readers, this will hopefully be my last entry in the Chemical Diaries.

Thank you all for taking the time to read. Thanks to all the staff at MGH Danvers for everything. Thank you to all my friends and family who have been super supportive.

This is going to be a great year. 2015 here I come!

PS: Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily. My other blog is www.ellengarfield.blogspot.com  There’s An Elephant in My Shoes. I’ll be writing again soon on that one!

Moving right along....

And so, as we near the end of 2014, I have 3 radiation therapy sessions remaining, the last one on December 31.

Nothing involving cancer treatment is enticing. However. Radiation has been a blast. Ok, let me rephrase that. It’s been really uplifting.

The Reindeer: Tamara, Lauren and Stephanie

Chemotherapy sessions were relaxing but the after effects were horrendous. In contrast, radiation therapy has been, well, kind of fun. OK. Really fun. I see the same 3 to 5 girls every day. We joke, we laugh, they draw designs on my boob. Sharpie markers are a bitch to get off but it’s worth it.

Side effects are minimal. I’m red like a lobster. Sunburn central. It doesn’t hurt but it can be annoying. It itches. Scratching my boob is kind of crass. Especially in my line of work.

All the medical folk and WebMD said I should be really tired. Exhausted. Well, I kind of am. Oh wait. Let’s see. Radiation, work, band practice, 6 maximum hours of sleep. Yup. I guess that would qualify me as tired. Is it the radiation? Hard to say.

Let's ditch the grey

A work in progress..

My hair is growing in. I decided to go red but it came out a bit lighter than I wanted. This is an easy fix. Everyone has a critique. Go lighter, go darker, go longer, keep it short. I’ll figure it out eventually. For now I’m just happy it’s growing!

So what happens next? This is a good question which I’ll learn the answer to in a few weeks. Stay tuned for the next installment.

Happy holidays and happy New Year to all. Here's to 2015!!

Act 3

On to radiation. You know? I was so apprehensive about how this procedure would work. Again, fear of the unknown.

A few days ago I went in for my dress rehearsal. I zipped up to the hospital after work, quite anxious. All the radiology girls were awesome. The Girls of Room 2. They said the table I would be stretched out on would be a bit uncomfortable. I was perfectly happy. After being on my feet for 8+ hours at work this sliding table, or should I say bed, felt like heaven. I even dozed off while they did their measuring.

They were speaking a scientific radiology language I totally did not understand. It was kind of funny. I thought to myself, whoa. They were talking about me in front of my back and I didn’t understand a word. They drew on me with sharpie markers, graphing out exactly how the radiation beams would hit me. Then they put a nice warm blanket on me and left the room to consult the computers. I promptly took a nap.

When they returned I was given 6 teeny, tiny, itsy, bitsy tattoos. No butterflies or hearts. Bummer. So tiny I can hardly distinguish them from a freckle. Oh well. These are guideline markers. Oh, technology.

I met with the radiology nurse therapist. I had questions. Don’t I always? After she picked my brain about books, I picked hers about side effects. What to expect. She said some sunburn soreness. I was ok with that. I said I had more creams and potions than CVS. She said I would be tired. Then she told me with my crazy work schedule, I might not even notice. Good point. The only time I’m NOT tired is when I’m doing a gig. Performing=Energy.

I’m so ready for this. 6 weeks of radiation. Monday through Friday. It sounds ominous but I want to do it and be done with it. The pros and cons are pretty much equal. Driving to the hospital every day is a drag. BUT. The hospital is across from the mall. Oh Sephora. Oh Macy’s. Oh Nordstrom. On second thought, this might be a con as well!!

Punk hair! It's growing in super fast.

I’ll let you all know how it goes. And now for a little online sleuthing. I need to know what’s on sale at Macy’s!

Now What?

Just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water, another little blip was thrown at me.

Chemo finished check

Surgery finished check

Radiation about to commence maybe not

Wait. What? I was informed that I still have some cancer spots that must be removed.

Well dang. I thought I was free and clear. Apparently not.

The first surgery went well. Recovery not so well. Those darn lymph nodes are such a nuisance. My left arm is not happy. It will get better I know that, but right now I’m in semi agony if I tried to reach up for something. As for the actual breast surgery/lumpectomy, that was a piece of cake and that’s what I have to have again. And so, more missed days of work. Not an ideal situation but I’ll manage. At least I know what to expect so I won’t feel quite as apprehensive as the first surgery. And painkillers are so good for the soul.

In the meantime, I’ll take pleasure in watching my hair grow. I’ve got a semi mohawk at this point which is kind of silly looking but my son thinks I look real hip. OK. I can do hip.He also thinks a beanie baby chicken looks fetching.

Onward. When the going gets tough, the tough does some serious retail therapy online.

Away we go….

Inch By Inch

 

So I’m not a cue ball anymore. Or ping pong ball. More like a tennis ball. A light layer of fuzz.

Yes. My hair has started growing in. It’s quite amazing actually. It feels and looks like baby chick fluff. The color is somewhat baffling. One day it looks blondish and the next grayish and the next black. I think it will be a kind of salt and pepper, which could be cool. I have no idea of the texture. I’m kind of hoping for spiky but we’ll see. Rocker Chick Deluxe!

My son would greet me each morning with, “Hi Baldy!” Now he’s changed his tune to, “Hi Fuzzy!” He says I look like a moldy peach. I’m taking that as a compliment. Each day he exams my scalp to see what’s new.

I’m not ready to leave the house without my turban hat. Maybe in a few weeks I’ll toss the hat and go “bare.” But only on cloudy days. Sun and scalp are not a good combo.

Next week is surgery. Not looking forward to being housebound but after chemo I’ve been told that this will be a piece of cake (donations of baked goods gladly accepted).

I’ll keep you all updated. Thanks for taking the time to read my rantings!

You CAN Go Home Again

This past weekend I attended my 40^th high school reunion. That’s right. 40 years. Incredible. I’d never been to a high school reunion. The Facebook invites went out about a year ago and I immediately responded, YES. Before Facebook there were few options for finding many people. Many of us moved from our old towns. Phone numbers were changed.

I couldn’t wait to be out of high school. My senior year was spent in a performing arts school for half the day. I was involved in the school musicals and of course the music department. I didn’t go to school events. I was busy with music lessons and performances. I never went to the senior prom. I had a gig that night.

During the course of this year, people from high school started friending each other on Facebook. Some of us did it well before the invites went out. Searching for a time when things were simpler. A reminiscence of who we were. A nostalgic yearning for the 1970’s.

I became Facebook friends with classmates that I was never friends with during my high school years. It didn’t matter. We all came from the same place and that made it real.

When I was diagnosed in February I was determined not to let this interfere with the reunion. After finishing chemo I became nervous. What if I didn’t have the energy to travel to NY? What if I was in pain? What if I was too tired to do anything? One of our classmates mentioned that she was nervous about the reunion. I was nervous about my body falling apart.

I was also apprehensive about people seeing me for the first time in 40 years that knew nothing about my health issues. Would they wonder why I was wearing a turban? Most people seemed to get it and one old friend said, “OK, so what exactly is going on here?”

A lot of people came up to me and said they’ve been reading my blog. I was kind of taken back. Wow. I really had no idea who was reading my blog. I do post the link onto Facebook and Twitter each time I post to blogspot.

And what of the reunion? We couldn’t get enough of each other. We wanted more time. We wanted to talk until the sun came up and many did. We took pics and posted them to Facebook. We decided not to wait 10 years for the next reunion. 10 years. Gawd. We’ll be so old. Who wants to wait THAT long? So we went for 5. That seems reasonable enough. If you had asked me 10 years after high school to attend a reunion, I would have scoffed at the idea. And now? I’d do it every 2 years. Not only to remember the past, but to look at all of us and see how far we’ve come. We are amazing.

General Douglas MacArthur Class of 1974, we totally rock!!!

This is dedicated to all of you with lots of love!

When Is It Time to Feel Normal?

It’s been 3 weeks since my last chemo spa session. I confess, I’m still not back to normal. But what is normal?

I know that it will take a while for my body to build itself back up. I know that it will take months before my hair starts to make an appearance. I know Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Yes, I’ve been doing closet cleaning and reorganizing. If I’m going to be in the house I may as well be productive. A new thrift shop opened in town and I’ve got bags of clothes waiting to be delivered.

There are other things to be considered as well. I need to see the dentist. It’s been a year. I was told no dental appointments while on chemo. I also need to have my eyes examined. I can see fine with my glasses if I’m looking at something across the room. Otherwise it’s squinting or ditching the glasses. Squinting isn’t a good option.

Wine in Trieste

I also need a glass of good red wine. No wine or beer or any kind of alcohol while on chemo. Chemo is over. Not that I’m a big drinker. But a nice glass of wine will be much appreciated.

MacArthur High

In two weeks I’m going to my 40^th high school reunion. Gasp. 40 years. How scary is that? The reunion is in New York in the town where I grew up. I’ll be seeing people I haven’t seen in 40 years. I’ll be seeing people I didn’t even know in high school. Our class was something over 500 and maybe 60 of us will be at the reunion. We’re making a weekend of it. I wanted to lose a ton of weight, have my hair look perfect etc. etc. But the reality of it all is that I’m happy just to be going. To be healthy enough to enjoy the experience. One thing I don’t have to worry about is my hair frizzing. There’s always a silver lining!

Every day I’m feeling my energy renew. It’s about 50% right now. But in a few weeks I’ll be at 100%.

100%. Now that’s awesome!

Home town (Wantagh)

Everyone Has A Story

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer back in February, I had a gazillian people giving me advice. What to eat. What not to eat. What vitamins to take. What kind of chemo to have. What kind of surgery to have. Everyone has a story. Everyone has advice to give.

Everyone knows someone who has had breast cancer. It’s a fact. I know many people who have had breast cancer. Do I have advice for someone newly diagnosed? Sure I do. Listen to your oncologist. My oncologist knows what she’s doing. Her advice is the ONLY advice I’ve been taking. Yes, I’ve listened to suggestions from women who have been through this.

Delicious!

I tried being a vegetarian. Then a vegan. It didn’t work. I craved meat and I caved. OK, I don’t eat burgers and steak every day. Or every week. In fact I haven’t had either. I did have a nice roast beef sub the other day…

I eat what I feel like eating which isn’t much. It’s also summer and the heat affects my appetite. The steroids make me blow up like the Goodyear Blimp. What I eat in one day, most people can eat in a meal. I’ve been told to drink protein shakes, drink my vegetables (gag), eat less of this and more of that. Are you kidding me? I am the QUEEN of the diet. I could write a book on it. I know what’s nutritionally sound and what’s not. What it boils down to is this: if  I’m craving a pizza, then so be it. And by the way, that red sauce on the pizza is loaded in potassium.

Someone suggested to me a homeopathic approach to reduce the tumor instead of chemo. Yeah. No. I don’t think so. In 4 months what was a tumor is now a dot. Of course chemo sucks. But it’s over. It was 4 months of misery. 4 months. When you think about it, it’s not so bad now. If you had asked me a month ago I would have probably screamed.

I’ve also stopped taking the massive amounts of herbal supplements that were making me nauseous. Now I just take my daily vitamins that I’ve been taking forever. A lot less complicated.

I’ve been told by so many women who have been through this, what kind of surgery they think I should have. I’ve been told by my oncologist and surgeon what kind of surgery I’m having. I think I’ll go with that. They are, after all, the professionals and modern technology is amazing.

I still feel yucky from the last infusions of chemicals. But I’ve got a lot of great stuff to look forward to. A high school reunion in August (40 years, gahhhh), surgery in August which is something I’m looking forward to being done with. Going back to work. I’m missing my little bookstore a lot. I also need to be in Trieste singing and chilling with my band mates and dear friends.

Bye-bye chemo!

And of course, I’m looking forward to my hair growing back. Wearing a turban is chic and all that, but I really miss having hair.

So good!

And now for some much needed watermelon!

Summertime and the livin’ is easy….

Buckets of Lists

Who ever coined the term “bucket list” is one of my least favorite people. I mean ok, we’re all gonna kick the bucket someday but when you have cancer, it’s not a phrase you want to be hearing over and over. Bucket list my butt. Call it something else. Like My To DO List.

Ah Paris!

My little pink moka pot

Going to Paris is a #1 priority for me. Just haven’t had the opportunity yet. Yes, yes, I travel to Europe frequently but I just haven’t had a Paris adventure yet. I’ll get there eventually. Buying an espresso machine is another to do item. Sometimes you just need to get down to basics and get it done (and yes, I make an awesome coffee with a stovetop moka pot).

Now that I’m on short term disability I have a lot of thinking time.

I make mental lists. To do lists. Things I need for the house, supermarket lists, time to clean out the closet lists. What if I have to spend a day or two in the hospital and I haven’t organized my closet? Thinking like that could qualify me for a role in a Woody Allen film.

Being a cancer patient has given me a lot of thinking time. Chemotherapy is officially over. The familiar territory of the Cancer Center of MGH Danvers will not be so familiar anymore. At least not until I start radiation. The familiar has stepped aside for the unknown. Surgery will be scheduled. Radiation will be scheduled. It will be a new territory. Am I scared? Yes, a little. It’s normal. Fear of the unknown is human nature.

For my first chemo session I was a train wreck. Today was my last session. I was a pro.

Great latte

 The most important thing on my to do list right now is to get better. That, along with being with family and friends tops the list. Oh yes. And an espresso machine!

Thank you Rosemary Grant and Dr. Erica Linden for keeping me sane and healthy.

Yes, chemo side effects suck but I managed to live through it with your guidance and support. I love you both.

Thanks to all my friends and family here and in Trieste, Italy for keeping me smiling.

And most important thanks to my husband Stu and our son Spencer for being wonderful. I couldn’t do this without you both.

Treatment stats: 1/3 down. 2/3 to go.

Chemo stats: 8 down. 0 to go.

 BOOYAH! I did it!!!

Well It’s About Time

So I finally did it. I decided to opt into short-term disability at work. Mostly everyone I know said, “Well it’s about time.”  Of course there are those who still believe that because I don’t look sick, I’m perfectly fine. They. Just. Don’t. Get. It.

Now I need to take care of me. Especially the weeks before surgery. I need to pamper myself and be a little bit selfish. I need to say yes to people wanting to do things for me. I’m so used to being the in control, doing everything myself person that I need to take a step back and say whoa girlfriend. Time to slow down. My doctors and nursing staff agree wholeheartedly.

I’ll still run errands when I feel up to it. Chemo is a funny thing. Some days I feel pretty good. Usually in the morning hours. Afternoons and evenings I’m pretty worn out. These are the times to catch up on Netflix and reading and napping.

I need to be more like Zoe!

 I asked Erica (my oncologist) for a sleeping aid. Something that wouldn’t give me a hung over feeling. She prescribed me a teeny pill that she said little old ladies take. I thought ok. I can be a little old lady. Well. This pill is about as effective as an M&M. I just lay there in bed waiting and waiting and waiting. It didn’t happen. I tried Tylenol PM. Nothing. I should try straight Benedryl. It IS allergy season after all. They give me massive doses thru my port during chemo and that works great. Maybe now that I’m not working and I don’t have to set my alarm clock I can go for a stronger RX.

I wonder if I’ll be bored while on disability. 2 months off. It’s not like I can do any serious traveling. What a shame. I can’t do a lot of retail therapy either. Short-term disability means a shorter paycheck as well. So this means closet cleaning time. Booyah!

And so, I have one more session of the chemo spa. ONE MORE SESSION. Wow. Then I start a whole new phase of treatment. Progression is a wonderful thing.

7 down. 1 to go. Breast cancer, I’m kicking your ass!

The Lighter Side of Chemotherapy??

OK. So realistically chemo sucks. It’s poison chemicals doing a number on the body.

But once in awhile something amusing happens. And sometimes some endearing things happen.

The other day I was sitting on the couch watching TV with my husband Stu. We were watching my newest obsession: The Property Brothers. Stu watches it for the renovations. I do too sort of. But mostly because Drew and Jonathan Scott are hotties. Anyway…Stu looked at me and said you smell like chemicals. I smelled my arm. Whoa. I did. The stuff is just oozing out of my pores. I immediately put on some body crème. It helped a lot.

This time of year I get chewed up by mosquitoes. Well now. Not a single one has landed on me. Spider bites too. Nada. They can smell poison a mile away. Cool. A chemo benefit.

As much as I despise my bald head, I have to say that summer humidity will not be a problem. No bad hair days.

My nails have been slowly turning grey. Not an attractive thing. The solution? Fabulous nail polish in a darker color. Who cares if it’s warm weather? I’m sporting purple nails. I love purple.

My poor feet have chemical burns. And after burns what happens? Peeling. Massive peeling. It’s almost funny. Again, I have great crèmes to combat that. I go through them like Stu eats through a bag of potato chips. Lotions and crèmes used to last me forever. Now I go through a tube or jar a week. It’s kind of fun choosing new ones. Always the product junky.

 

One of our cats, Zoe, has been glued to me since I started chemo (she also happens to like the smell of all the lotions). But she knows something’s up. She’s not the most affectionate cat. She’s a princess. But she’s been a constant fixture in any room I’m in. At night she sleeps on my feet. If it’s cooler out she’ll sleep in my face. If I’m cooking in the kitchen she’s right there. Watching TV? She’ll be on the floor next to the couch, or on a chair. Pets have an uncanny sense of things.

I also get a steroid drip. It makes me so energetic for two days that I can’t sleep. I do all the things in the house that I can’t manage after a few days when it wears off and I hit the floor.

And finally, at last Monday’s chemo spa I had my usual bag of Benedryl to combat any allergic reaction the Taxol might pull. Benedryl knocks me out. By the way…it’s great for long haul flights. Just saying. Anyway, since I was in a private room I decided to turn down the lights. Stu was there too and we decided to both take a nap. I reclined my chair all the way and he had a comfy chair and put his feet up on a stool. I reach for the remote to hit the light switch. Hit it a bunch of times because the light wasn’t going out. Of course it wasn’t. I hit the call button instead. OOPSY. Half a dozen staff came running in. I was very apologetic and they were all relieved especially when I said OK…shall we order pizza???

These are the moments I’ll remember. The bad side effects I’ll try to erase. Who needs that anyway?

Have a great weekend all.

Hey, You Look Great!

I may look great, but in actuality I feel like I’ve been trampled by two teams of Clydesdales.

Chemo is funny that way.

I’ve had two sessions of the next chemical and it’s called Taxol. It’s fairly aggressive. It makes me tired, achy and all around blah. My brain says let’s go do stuff but my body says go away I’m in hibernation ‘till this is over.

Unless you’ve been through chemotherapy, it’s difficult to describe the physical presence of the chemicals coursing through my body. And of course every chemo for every person is different.

The sessions of AC were horrific, making me feel seasick 24/7. I could feel little pacmen chomping away at my left boob. That part was cool. The Taxol is a bit more intense. No more feeling like I’m going to barf every five seconds. However, the little pacmen are gone, having been replaced by Mortal Kombat. It kind of takes my breath away.

I finally went back to work a few days a week after being home quite sick for almost two weeks. I still feel pretty lousy, but that’s the way it goes. I’m just waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel and it IS getting closer.

In the meantime I have people saying to me, “Wow you look great. You’re all better, right?” Of course I look great. I spend a fortune in skincare and makeup products. I’m not leaving the house looking like death. That doesn’t work for me. And I’m not all better. “Well just rest and you’ll be better soon.” Nope. Chemotherapy doesn’t work that way. This isn’t a cold. You don’t rest and get better. One day you feel fine and the next day you may feel like pure crap. No amount of R& R is going to work when there is poison coursing through my veins. My immune system is non-existent.

So when people say, “Hey, you look great” I just smile and say thanks. And I inch closer to that faint light at the end of the tunnel.

6 down, 2 to go. Getting closer!

Hitting the Wall

Yesterday I had my 5^th chemo spa. I was talking to a fellow spa mate and she asked if I had hit the wall yet. This was spa lingo I didn’t know. She said it’s when you feel the need to spend days at a time in bed.

I did just that. Enter Planet Bed. I had come down with a nasty cold which led to a nasty fever which led to my blood counts going way down which led to antibiotic infusion. I was sick. Very, very sick.

I feel faint

I had turned off my phone and crawled into bed. I went for several days without communicating to anyone. With most of the world no news is good news. In Ellen world no news is definitely bad news. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to hear, “feel better soon” or “don’t worry, you’ll feel better in a few days.” The fact was, I wasn’t getting better. I was getting worse. I had a blackout from the antibiotics. Fainted right at the kitchen sink. I said to my husband, “Stu, I’m going to faint. Right now.” He caught me and hauled me off to bed. I was mortified that I hadn’t finished emptying the dishwasher. My last request before I fell asleep for 5 hours was to please empty the dishwasher. I had hit the wall big time.

I think I freaked out my friends a little bit. My friend Cathy stormed into my house bearing gifts. A pizza, a can of diet root beer and a bag of atomic fireballs. I was looking like pure crap and feeling worse. She didn’t care. She complimented my pajamas and said my bald head looked just fine.

I went back to bed and had strange fever dreams. Some good, some extremely weird. Some work related. Not a healthy sleep by any means.

When I finally turned on my phone and PC there were a gazillion Facebook messages, text messages and emails. It was overwhelming. I had messages from people at work saying glad you’re feeling better. Wait. What? Where’d they get that from? I was in Planet Bed, not some tropical island. Although that sounds pretty good right now. No bad hair days from humidity.

I’m feeling pretty good right now. My energy is coming back slowly and I’ve been advised to take it easy or I’ll hit the wall even harder. Pink Floyd you have nothing on me!

And so, after posting this I’ll take a cat nap and then move on. I’m looking at a pile of laundry and a grocery list. Decisions, decisions.

Planet Bed!

5 down. 3 to go. Booyah!

Educate Thyself, Woman!

One of the first things Dr. Linden said to me was don’t Google because it will make me crazy. So what did I do the minute I got home? Well being the diehard renegade that I am…I Googled (I’m very bad at following rules). Was it a mistake? Probably. Did I learn stuff? Definitely.

Ask one question and I’m directed to a gazillion places. How to sort it all out is a bit baffling. How to sort it out without freaking out is nerve shattering.

Of course the first thing I wanted to know were about the side effects of the chemicals that my body is ingesting. So I called in the troops.

My friend Cathy is a genius when it comes to finding just the right article. Something not too complex for my feeble chemical altered brain.

And what have I discovered? With the exception of just a few symptoms, I’m totally text book in almost everything.

There was so much I didn’t know about chemotherapy that it was mind-boggling. I just thought everyone got the same old chemicals. Boy was I wrong.

Every person is different. Every cancer is different. Every stage is different. And the chemical cocktails for all of these cancers is different. Even if you have the same cancer. So many options.

I have talked with a lot of the people who go through treatment at the same time as I do. We hang out together in the big room, talking, sharing war stories and other assorted things like recipes, composting ideas (that would be Stu talking to an organic farmer who was across from me a few weeks ago) and just plain stuff, not always cancer related.

I’ve learned a lot from these strangers who are becoming familiar. We share a common bond and yet we are so different. After four sessions I have yet to talk to anyone with breast cancer. It breaks my heart to hear about the cancers these men and women have, the stages they are in and the treatments they are going through And yet they’re there smiling and getting on with it. They are so brave. Makes me feel like such a baby, whining about my upset stomach and lack of hair.

Here’s to those brave people who are battling the biggest war of their lives. God bless you all. It isn’t easy.

And now back to Googling.

Diet? What Diet?

I’ve been on a diet all my life. Really. It’s common knowledge. So here I am on chemotherapy thinking, hmmm, I just might lose weight with all these side effects. Wrong.

Yes, I have lost my appetite. Yes, I am queasy more than not. And yes, nothing appeals to me food wise. This is a horror story for someone who loves trying out new cuisines.

Soft Serve in Yokohama, Japan

Mike's Pastry

Every now and then I’ll have a craving for something. Be it watermelon, lemon cake or felafel

(yes, I craved all of those). Within moments the cravings pass and I’m left with a feeling of melancholy or why bother?

I asked Dr. Linden if a side effect of chemo is weight loss. She smiled sadly and told me with the steroids I’m on it will be impossible to lose weight. Wait. What?? The one time in my life I’m not in the mood for a gastronomic event and I can’t lose weight?? These are some badass side effects for sure.

Grilled veggies in Slovenia

Insalata caprese in Trieste

I’ve also lost my sense of taste. If something is bland, like say an apple, I can’t taste it at all. On the other hand, a little cayenne goes a long way. Right now I’m all about spicy foods when I have the urge to eat something. Certain spices bring out the flavors and while I still love salads and vegetables, unless they’re tossed with a little caliente, I may as well be eating cardboard.

CIA great food!

You can bet your boots that as soon as chemo is over I am going to spend a few days indulging in some good eats. A gift to me.

Big shout outs to the best MGH staff: Dr. Linden (did you finish that book yet?), Betty (hope your vacation was amazing), Nancy (we happen to have the same taste in books), Paula (you never call, you never write…), Deanna (my old friend with a new history) and Rosemary who is my rock of Gibraltar. These are my girlies and they are the best. Ever.

Four down. Four to go. Halfway there!!

Pizza in Mestre, Italy

Calling Out Sick

I’m not very good at being sick. I’m worse at calling out sick from work. Over the years I’ve mostly used my sick days for appointments or when my own child was home sick from school. When I was teaching it was more of a nuisance to prepare a lesson plan for a sub. Easier to just work through the coughs and sneezes.

I don’t believe that having cancer is a license to call out sick. My friend Cathy keeps yelling at me and says to stop being a martyr. Over the past few months I HAVE called out sick a few times and I know there will be several more times before this is over. The chemo side effects were/are so uncomfortable that I can’t be at 100%. Working in retail requires me to be at the top of my game all the time. Customers don’t care if your jade plant wilted, if you have a toothache or if you’re going through a life change. And guess what? They’re right. The customer has the right to my 100% attention focused on them. I treat my customers the way I myself like to be treated when doing a little retail therapy.

And so, unless I can’t stand up to do my job or at least perch in a visible place, I will continue to work. I may not have a license to call out sick, but once in a while I’ll pull a temporary permit.

Have a good week, all!

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

“Oh, my hair”-Goldie Hawn in Overboard

Self-denial is a wonderful thing. Lose my hair? No way. Uh. Let’s rethink that.

For the most of my life I’ve had long, thick, beautiful hair. At the present I have non-existent hair, which is freaking me out a little. Yes, I know it will grow back, but what to do in the meantime?

When my long strands started molting I made an appointment with my hairstylist for a short pixie cut. I left my long hair to be donated to kids with cancer. Within a few days I got used to that look. Swiped my son Spencer’s hair gel and I was rocker girl.

A week later I was shedding worse than my cats. Between the two of them and myself I could have hooked a rug. One evening as I was cooking, I noticed my hair all over the kitchen counter. No good. I took a deep breath and said to my husband, OK, it’s time. We waltzed into the bathroom and buzzed it all off. I wept. I screamed. I laughed when Spencer gave me a mohawk. I cried again. I cried all night.

Then I pulled up my big girl bloomers and popped on the wig I had purchased the week before. Not so shabby. Aside from the fact that I looked like a soccer mom it would do in a pinch. Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but at least I wouldn’t scare anyone.

A few weeks ago I went to a workshop for women going through chemo. It was all about makeup, hats, wigs and scarves. We all received a beautiful bag of products. The product junky in me swooned. But the best part was learning how to make turbans from scarves and tee shirts. Yes, that’s right. A plain old t-shirt. Cut off the bottom half and voila! Following the workshop I drove right over to Marshall’s and purchased a beautiful melon green men’s t-shirt. What? Of course I did! Check out the sidebar.

Isn’t it cute? I added a floral scarf to make it tropical. Pina colada anyone??

I don’t walk out of the house without makeup and therefore I won’t walk out of the house without something on my head. I may have lost all my hair but I’ll be sportin’ some fabulous new head coverings this summer. Carmen Miranda eat your heart out!!!

PS: A big shout out to my big sis Linda who sent me some fab turbans! Love you sis!

To Share or Not to Share IS that the Question?

“ I may have cancer, but cancer most definitely does NOT have me” ~Ellen Garfield

Just exactly how does one share the news of positive biopsy? I was reluctant to say anything to anyone barring my immediate family. It’s kind of a surreal situation.

I told my co-workers first. Then a few select friends. I didn’t want to make a public announcement but I knew sooner or later the cat would be out of the bag. I didn’t want my larger circle of friends to feel bad that I didn’t disclose the fact I have cancer. What? Why didn’t you say something? So I knew something had to be done.

I did a subtle photo thing on Facebook of me with short hair. I commented that pretty soon there would be no hair. My friends are so clever. They got it. Phew.

I did two or three updates but I didn’t want to shove my issues into people’s faces. This is why I’m doing the blog. Easier to say all of this in a post rather than in daily fb updates. Status updates can be obnoxious.

What amazed me is that I learned about how many people I know went through all of this. Women. Men. Old high school friends. People from my community. It’s like an elite club. Totally eye opening. Different people, different experiences. Everyone has a story and every story is unique.

I’ve received some cool advice from some more than cool people. My support system is so strong that I couldn’t break it if I tried.

I didn’t ask for this to happen, but I know I will become a stronger and more caring person by the time I am free from this poison.

I MAY HAVE CANCER BUT CANCER MOST DEFINITELY DOES NOT HAVE ME!!

Have a great week all!

My Very Own Pharmacy!

The other day I was looking in my linen closet and I realized I have enough pills and other assorted cancer related concoctions (mouth washes) to open up my own pharmacy.

My Dr. (Erica Linden) is the most awesome person. If one pill doesn’t work, she orders another. I’m still holding out for the medical marijuana but I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Besides, what good is it in pill form? I mean come on.

Some pills work. Some don’t. It’s good to have a back up. What’s not good is that each RX is a co-pay. Hmmm. As far as I can figure, I have spent enough in co-pays to buy a new spring wardrobe. Talk about putting it into perspective. OK, I did buy some new head wraps. I don’t think that counts.

I’m still all about using kitchen remedies. Ginger tea helps with the queasy factor. In fact anything ginger is awesome. My friend Cathy says she hates ginger. Thinks it tastes like soap. I love it. Ginger cookies, ginger in stir-fry, ginger chewy candy from the Cambodian market, not fond of ginger ale but if it works I’m in.

I have one more session of the queasy infusions. Oh dear. What to do with all the pills? I wonder if I can sell them back to the pharmacy at half price. I think the answer to that is a resounding I don’t think so.

In the meantime, my evil spa attendant Rosemary will continue to pump me up. Just kidding. Rosemary is the greatest! And she’s a dancer. Near and dear to my heart.

My phone alarm just went off. Time for another pill!

Tests, Exams But No Spring Break??

When one has cancer, there are a multitude of tests to endure. These tests involve drinking strange liquids and having strange liquids pumped into your veins. Needless to say I’m not one for needles or strange substances that don’t taste delicious. Make that drink into a New York egg cream and I’m all yours.

CT scans. Bone scans. Blood tests. I was radioactive. I even had a little card that could get me through the metal detector at work being that I had nuclear fluids coursing through my delicate veins.

To make matters easier on my overworked veins I had a port installed below my collarbone. I named her Irma. It’s terribly convenient. My arms were beginning to look like modern art in purple, yellow and grey.

I didn’t know what a port was. It’s not something I would have seen before. So my doctor Googled port so I could get a visual. Of course when you Google port images, you come up with ships and sailors. Oops. Wrong port. But if sailors come with it….

We finally found the right port and it kind of looks like the Starship Enterprise. OK, cool.

Beam me up Scotty.

The one test that I would rather not repeat again was the dreaded breast MRI. Forty minutes in a squashed state of discomfort. I felt like a mozzarella panino oozing out at the sides. Either that or a Fluff sandwich. I hate Marshmallow Fluff. Breathing was difficult. A root canal is easier.

I’m very blessed to be a patient in a state –of- the- art facility here in the Boston area. All the newest technology is available and it gives me a sense of relief. Cancer is a terrible thing for everyone and anyone. Thank you MGH Danvers.

So, egg cream anyone???

3 down. 5 to go!