I decided to take the day off today to lounge around my house with my dogs and watch movies on the couch. Sometimes you just need a breather, you know? I was woken up this morning by a phone call from my doctor's office - scheduling me for an appointment on the 15th. I was kind of pissed that I wouldn't be able to find out what the hell is going on until then so I called my mom to do the dirty work and find out what was actually happening from my doctor.
Side note: My 27th birthday is on the 17th. Happy birthday to me!
My mom called me back a little while later with a bunch of news. I guess you could say it's both good and not so good. I'll start with the good.
First of all, there are three nodules but the third one is actually in my left lung - which apparently was already there before my surgery. This one actually shrunk in size so they don't think it's anything to worry about and do not believe it's cancerous. Which is great! The second piece of news is that she doesn't want to explore chemo at this time...again. Which, of course, I'm thrilled with. The third piece of (semi) good news is that the new tumors in my right lung are so small that there are a few different options I can choose from. Which leads into the not so great news.
The first choice I have is to not do anything and watch to see if they grow during the next 3 months until my next CT's. Apparently quite a few people choose this choice! I mean, to each his own but seriously - I don't want this shit in my body. Get it the fuck out. So that is not even a possibility in my mind. My second option is to get this type of hormonal therapy which would include pills and/or injections. This would throw me into early menopause. GREAT!! My mom didn't discuss this with my doctor but my only concern with that (other then the loads of unwanted side effects) would be if I ever decided I wanted to have kids - would I be able to? I don't know if I want that hanging over my head. And Lord knows I was never a kid person but I still want to know I have the option. The third choice is this less invasive type of surgery where they actually go in and burn the tumors.
She said that she didn't think my lung doctor would want to operate only because I legit JUST had surgery. My mom asked if she could speak with my lung doctor to see what his thoughts on all this would be so that on the 15th we would have all possible options to explore.
The last piece of information I should add is that my doctor said that in the scheme of everything, these tumors are extremely small. The one that has been there for a year or so was a .7 and the new one from my scans in August was a .4. They both grew to a .9. Obviously, it's not a good thing. But, they are still very small. This is the only saving grace I'm holding onto. At least it's not like over the last few months they grew into this giant mass that was taking over my lung. It's still fucking scary and I'm still super upset. But at least I know I have a few options to look into.
Decisions, decisions...
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
It's back...Again.
Welp - today didn't go as I'd hoped/prayed. To be honest I don't even have the strength to discuss the hours of waiting around for my three appointments (as I am currently sedated on more then a few xanax...). But what I will say is that I got the third worst news of my life delivered by the nasty bitch doctor. The two nodules that were already in my right lung grew and now there's a third. Given my track record it's Cancer. Again. In my right lung this time.
I am so fucking upset.
Not only am I, of course, upset that it's back...but I'm upset that I fucking did this Trial and basically tortured myself for months only to now be removed from it because the Cancer is back. Gotta love it.
At first I was really mad because I just couldn't help but feel like I did all this bullshit for nothing but I mean, I guess it meant something. The whole thing just really fucking sucks. Like, hardcore. And the worst part is that I - AS USUAL - have to wait around to find out what's going to happen. Since my regular doctor wasn't there today to deliver the news, now I have to wait for her to call me to either schedule an appointment to discuss my options or tell me over the phone. I'm guessing she'll want me to come in like they always do.
The nasty doctor mentioned having the nodules biopsied, getting chemo or more surgery. The one slightly good piece of information is that the nodules aren't exactly super big so I'm praying by some grace of whatever God is out there that they'll be able to just remove them by some small type of surgery rather then the pure fucking HELL I had to endure the last time.
I am devastated. But I'm also starting to wonder what the bigger picture for me is. Will this ever end? Will I be doomed to constantly be wondering when, not if, it will come back? It's just another major stress I have to worry about.
Any positive thoughts, prayers, good vibes, whatever that can be sent my way, I'd sure appreciate it.
I just can't but help but feel...defeated. It's just like, how much is life going to load on me? I wish it would just give me some sort of break already. Again, I've never asked why this happened to me...why I had to be the one...but I just wish I could see what was going to happen with my future. Will I forever be dealing with this? How many scars am I going to wind up with? Not that I even give a shit about a few physical scars - I'm talking about the emotional ones. It's just the process of going through surgery or treatment or probing or prodding or healing. It all just fucking sucks. I was soo hoping that this Trial would possibly lead to something good. It's a smack in the face that it didn't.
Back to the drawing board.
I am so fucking upset.
Not only am I, of course, upset that it's back...but I'm upset that I fucking did this Trial and basically tortured myself for months only to now be removed from it because the Cancer is back. Gotta love it.
At first I was really mad because I just couldn't help but feel like I did all this bullshit for nothing but I mean, I guess it meant something. The whole thing just really fucking sucks. Like, hardcore. And the worst part is that I - AS USUAL - have to wait around to find out what's going to happen. Since my regular doctor wasn't there today to deliver the news, now I have to wait for her to call me to either schedule an appointment to discuss my options or tell me over the phone. I'm guessing she'll want me to come in like they always do.
The nasty doctor mentioned having the nodules biopsied, getting chemo or more surgery. The one slightly good piece of information is that the nodules aren't exactly super big so I'm praying by some grace of whatever God is out there that they'll be able to just remove them by some small type of surgery rather then the pure fucking HELL I had to endure the last time.
I am devastated. But I'm also starting to wonder what the bigger picture for me is. Will this ever end? Will I be doomed to constantly be wondering when, not if, it will come back? It's just another major stress I have to worry about.
Any positive thoughts, prayers, good vibes, whatever that can be sent my way, I'd sure appreciate it.
I just can't but help but feel...defeated. It's just like, how much is life going to load on me? I wish it would just give me some sort of break already. Again, I've never asked why this happened to me...why I had to be the one...but I just wish I could see what was going to happen with my future. Will I forever be dealing with this? How many scars am I going to wind up with? Not that I even give a shit about a few physical scars - I'm talking about the emotional ones. It's just the process of going through surgery or treatment or probing or prodding or healing. It all just fucking sucks. I was soo hoping that this Trial would possibly lead to something good. It's a smack in the face that it didn't.
Back to the drawing board.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Fuck you, Cancer.
So - tomorrow I have my first CT's since I started the Trial. I can't believe it was 6 months ago already. Six months down, one year to go...of needles and tests and blood work and doctor visits, anyway. I'm both a little nervous and excited for these CT's. God willing they will be fine and I'll be able to start counting the days/months/years of being Cancer free again. It would be really great if this series of vaccinations actually meant I wouldn't have to worry about something showing up ever again.
My day of fun starts tomorrow at 8am. My CT's are scheduled for 9am which means I have to be there an hour early to drink the gallon of grossness they make you consume before your scans. After my CT's are done, my next appointment isn't until 2pm! Which means I'll be walking aimlessly around NY for approximately four hours until my blood work. After that, I'm scheduled to meet with a doctor. Guess which one? That nasty BITCH I said I never wanted to be scheduled with again!
Because I had to call Sloan back four times to get all my appointments scheduled on the same day rather then multiple days, she was the only available doctor on the day they were able to schedule everything on. I'm pissed. At least this time I really don't have any questions to ask. I'm legit not even going to smile at her. Just check my heartbeat for 18 seconds like you did the last time and get out, assbag.
After my (it's sure to be...) lovely appointment with her, I'll have to wait another hour and 1/2 to two hours to get my vaccination...the fourth appointment of the day. Again, this is because apparently on the days I see a doctor they can't start thawing the vaccination until the doctor sees me and calls it in. It's so fucking stupid but what am I going to do? So this basically means I'll be aimlessly walking for yet another two hours of my life on the streets of NY until they call me to tell me I can come get jabbed with the second needle of the day. Joy.
I'm assuming I won't get home until around 7-8pm tomorrow and we're leaving at like, 6:15am. Although it's better to get everything done in the same day, they space it out way too much. I really don't get how they don't look at a schedule like that and just ponder to themselves, hmm...if I were her I sure as hell wouldn't want to spend 10 hours of my day in and out of doctor appointments.
Maybe I'm the crazy one.
On a more positive note, I added some new ink to my body. I thought about it for a while and decided that although these last 3+ years have had their ups and downs, ultimately the tribulations I've endured have just made me stronger. It was as if this was a test of my strength and capacity as a person. I always knew I was capable of handling shitty situations but I really never knew I could withstand so much until I was able to pull through without completely falling apart.
For those dealing with an illness, loss, some test of character...keep holding on. If you give up you'll never know incredibly brave you really are. When things seem like they can't get any lower, they might. Life has a nasty sense of humor but the way I see it you have two choices: fight or give up. If everything in this world was easy we would never know that we could survive the worst of times and come out stronger then ever.
So to that, I say Fuck You, Cancer.
September 8th, 2008 and June 8th, 2011 have made me what I am today: Stronger.
My day of fun starts tomorrow at 8am. My CT's are scheduled for 9am which means I have to be there an hour early to drink the gallon of grossness they make you consume before your scans. After my CT's are done, my next appointment isn't until 2pm! Which means I'll be walking aimlessly around NY for approximately four hours until my blood work. After that, I'm scheduled to meet with a doctor. Guess which one? That nasty BITCH I said I never wanted to be scheduled with again!
Because I had to call Sloan back four times to get all my appointments scheduled on the same day rather then multiple days, she was the only available doctor on the day they were able to schedule everything on. I'm pissed. At least this time I really don't have any questions to ask. I'm legit not even going to smile at her. Just check my heartbeat for 18 seconds like you did the last time and get out, assbag.
After my (it's sure to be...) lovely appointment with her, I'll have to wait another hour and 1/2 to two hours to get my vaccination...the fourth appointment of the day. Again, this is because apparently on the days I see a doctor they can't start thawing the vaccination until the doctor sees me and calls it in. It's so fucking stupid but what am I going to do? So this basically means I'll be aimlessly walking for yet another two hours of my life on the streets of NY until they call me to tell me I can come get jabbed with the second needle of the day. Joy.
I'm assuming I won't get home until around 7-8pm tomorrow and we're leaving at like, 6:15am. Although it's better to get everything done in the same day, they space it out way too much. I really don't get how they don't look at a schedule like that and just ponder to themselves, hmm...if I were her I sure as hell wouldn't want to spend 10 hours of my day in and out of doctor appointments.
Maybe I'm the crazy one.
On a more positive note, I added some new ink to my body. I thought about it for a while and decided that although these last 3+ years have had their ups and downs, ultimately the tribulations I've endured have just made me stronger. It was as if this was a test of my strength and capacity as a person. I always knew I was capable of handling shitty situations but I really never knew I could withstand so much until I was able to pull through without completely falling apart.
For those dealing with an illness, loss, some test of character...keep holding on. If you give up you'll never know incredibly brave you really are. When things seem like they can't get any lower, they might. Life has a nasty sense of humor but the way I see it you have two choices: fight or give up. If everything in this world was easy we would never know that we could survive the worst of times and come out stronger then ever.
So to that, I say Fuck You, Cancer.
September 8th, 2008 and June 8th, 2011 have made me what I am today: Stronger.
Monday, October 17, 2011
The Good, The Bad and The Stupid.
It is 9:26pm on a Monday night as I begin to write this. I just got home from a full day at work which lead into my blood work appointment this evening in NY. There are a few points I'd like to touch upon tonight. First - it's always a reassuring feeling when you have more common sense then the people you are dealing with who are scheduling your appointments.
I have been scheduled for my blood work appointment tonight (at 6:45pm) for at least a month. Nothing has changed with this. This afternoon around 3:40pm I received a call from a 212 area code. I've come to learn that whenever a number with this area code shows up - it's always Sloan. Here I'm thinking they've rescheduled my three December appointments (12/5, 12/7 AND 12/12...even people without jobs would never make that trek into the city three separate times in one week) into something slightly more feasible...and logical. This is what I hear on the other end of the phone: "Hi...are you almost here? Or are you on your way?" Um, I'm sitting in my desk chair at work...?
Apparently, since I clearly have psychic abilities that everyone knows about, I was just supposed to know that they scheduled me to meet with my Oncologist (that's right - the same one I met with 7 days ago...) to "re-consent" to my Trial at 3:15pm today. Riiiight. The girl on the other end of the phone - who I always enjoy when I see her - had no idea that I had no idea about my 3:15pm appointment and asked me if the lab was even open at 6:45pm. Ha. She said she would call me right back once she found out what the heck was going on.
An hour later I called my doctor's office to find out what was happening since I was scheduled to leave for the train 25 minutes later to go to my actual appointment. My doctor wound up getting on the phone to say she had no idea what was happening and that long story short, they changed some of the blood work from week 17 to this week, so I had to sign off on it again. Which is fine - just let me know what the hell is going on! She stated she would sign her portion of the paperwork and leave it for me to sign once I got to my blood work appointment later that night.
Off I go to my appointment. My mother and I arrive a few minutes early to which the nurse looks at me like I have 17 heads and tells me the Trial nurse left because they said I cancelled my appointment for that night.
I wish I had a personal photographer (for many reasons) to catch the array of faces I must make during my visits to Sloan. Needless to say, multiple phone calls were made to I'm sure many people who were on their way home from work. My paperwork that was supposed to be signed and waiting for me was nowhere to be found. The nurse on duty (who is always very nice whenever I see her) had no idea how much blood to draw. Finally, my Oncologist called back stating that since my paperwork had somehow gone missing from the time it was sent down the two floors from her office to the lab, I would only be able to get my blood work done that was originally supposed to be drawn. Fine. At this point I just wanted something to be done so I would know I didn't waste my time/money rushing into the city.
For the second time in a week, my blood was drawn without me going into a full-fledged panic attack. I think I was even calmer seeing that only 3 vials were being taken. After the nurse was done and I was guzzling orange juice, she stated that since we didn't have the signed consent, the other 10 VIALS that were supposed to be drawn tonight couldn't be.
Excuse me? An additional 10 VIALS? That would make 13 in total tonight should they have actually had my paperwork. Are they trying to bleed me dry?! No sooner did she say that, that I started to feel the blood drain from my face and my anxiety start to kick in. I talked myself down from an attack, reassuring myself that at least I wouldn't need to go through that tonight. But would this mean I'd have to come back since not everything was done? I'm nervous not only because I'm not looking forward to another appointment - but also because what if this screws up my Trial somehow? I didn't go through all the crap I've already gone through and pumped with some unknown substance into my body for it to just suddenly mean nothing. I guess I'm going to have to call my doctor later this week to find out for sure.
As I was walking out with my mother I made a comment that I would have to include tonight's events in my next blog. She shot back that maybe I should write about Sloan in a positive way rather then a negative one. I don't agree with her that I've been portraying Sloan in a negative light. I just want to be clear - that hospital has done miracles with me and I will forever be grateful for the amazing doctor's I've come in contact with there. I'm alive and well today because of them. However, when I started writing this blog I made it a point to commit to documenting everything along this journey - both good and bad. This is life and shitty things happen all the time. People fuck up. Mistakes happen. I just wish they wouldn't happen so often in my world but hey - what can ya do!
At least the softball size welt that I usually get from my vaccination didn't seem as bad this time around. I didn't really have a lot of pain and you can see that the spot isn't as large. Perhaps there is a "sweet spot" on my arm that when injected into that specific area, my reaction isn't as severe.
To close out my thoughts for tonight, I'd just like to take a moment to talk to all the "social" smokers out there. I can proudly say that I have no regrets in my life. I did everything I did because at the time I did it, I thought it was the "right" thing to do and I trust myself and know that I've learned from many, many mistakes I've made along the way. One of the things I would do differently if I could do it over would be to never have been a "social" smoker in my earlier years.
I was never a smoker. However, when I would drink if someone was holding a cigarette I would take a few drags. Why? Why did I ever do this? Honestly - what is the point? What did it get me? I haven't touched a cigarette in about 6 years...this isn't because of Cancer. This is because I realized how incredibly fucking dumb it was. It didn't do anything for me but give me a headache and a sore throat. I was scared it was going to fuck up my voice. Ha.
I've had way too many heated discussions with friends and loved ones regarding the dangers of only being a "social" smoker. The sad fact of the matter is, no one understands unless they actually have to go through something themselves. I haven't touched a cigarette in years - yet I wound up with Cancer in my lung. It's so unfair...yet I wouldn't wish this fucking disease on my worst enemy. However, I do wish I could make people understand that every time you inhale all those poisons/chemicals, you're that much closer to having your worst nightmares come true.
This isn't a joke. It's a cold and extremely lonely place when you're the one the doctor is showing the scans of a malignant tumor to. When you're the one questioning how much longer you're expected to live. When you're the one sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, watching dying people sitting across from you...and to your left...and to your right...all hanging onto the hope that they might get a few more years, or months...or days.
It's especially lonely when you watch people you care so much about voluntarily stick that cigarette in their mouth after they were hysterically crying about how broken they were knowing you have Cancer again only a few months ago. I honestly wish I was without a fucking care in the world and could have the option to light up whenever I felt like it. Why not? People do it all the time. But at what cost? I guess they never really think there is a cost until something horrible happens to them. Clearly it's not enough when something horrible happens to someone they love and apparently care so much about.
There are many things in this life that I have questioned and will continue to question. That will forever remain one of them. How someone could be so close to another that they go to every doctor's appointment. Sit through every anxiety attack. Watch every tear fall from that other person's eyes. See all the pain and torment that other person has as they battle a life-threatening disease that they got stuck with for no apparent and good reason...yet they voluntarily put themselves at risk for the same disaster to happen to them. I don't understand. It doesn't make any sense. It makes me so extremely angry - and it always will. I'm the one that wound up with this, yet I'm the one that always tried to keep it away.
Think before you act, people. Is it really worth it in the end?
And as for the 10 additional vials of blood...all I have to say to you is...
I have been scheduled for my blood work appointment tonight (at 6:45pm) for at least a month. Nothing has changed with this. This afternoon around 3:40pm I received a call from a 212 area code. I've come to learn that whenever a number with this area code shows up - it's always Sloan. Here I'm thinking they've rescheduled my three December appointments (12/5, 12/7 AND 12/12...even people without jobs would never make that trek into the city three separate times in one week) into something slightly more feasible...and logical. This is what I hear on the other end of the phone: "Hi...are you almost here? Or are you on your way?" Um, I'm sitting in my desk chair at work...?
Apparently, since I clearly have psychic abilities that everyone knows about, I was just supposed to know that they scheduled me to meet with my Oncologist (that's right - the same one I met with 7 days ago...) to "re-consent" to my Trial at 3:15pm today. Riiiight. The girl on the other end of the phone - who I always enjoy when I see her - had no idea that I had no idea about my 3:15pm appointment and asked me if the lab was even open at 6:45pm. Ha. She said she would call me right back once she found out what the heck was going on.
An hour later I called my doctor's office to find out what was happening since I was scheduled to leave for the train 25 minutes later to go to my actual appointment. My doctor wound up getting on the phone to say she had no idea what was happening and that long story short, they changed some of the blood work from week 17 to this week, so I had to sign off on it again. Which is fine - just let me know what the hell is going on! She stated she would sign her portion of the paperwork and leave it for me to sign once I got to my blood work appointment later that night.
Off I go to my appointment. My mother and I arrive a few minutes early to which the nurse looks at me like I have 17 heads and tells me the Trial nurse left because they said I cancelled my appointment for that night.
I wish I had a personal photographer (for many reasons) to catch the array of faces I must make during my visits to Sloan. Needless to say, multiple phone calls were made to I'm sure many people who were on their way home from work. My paperwork that was supposed to be signed and waiting for me was nowhere to be found. The nurse on duty (who is always very nice whenever I see her) had no idea how much blood to draw. Finally, my Oncologist called back stating that since my paperwork had somehow gone missing from the time it was sent down the two floors from her office to the lab, I would only be able to get my blood work done that was originally supposed to be drawn. Fine. At this point I just wanted something to be done so I would know I didn't waste my time/money rushing into the city.
For the second time in a week, my blood was drawn without me going into a full-fledged panic attack. I think I was even calmer seeing that only 3 vials were being taken. After the nurse was done and I was guzzling orange juice, she stated that since we didn't have the signed consent, the other 10 VIALS that were supposed to be drawn tonight couldn't be.
Excuse me? An additional 10 VIALS? That would make 13 in total tonight should they have actually had my paperwork. Are they trying to bleed me dry?! No sooner did she say that, that I started to feel the blood drain from my face and my anxiety start to kick in. I talked myself down from an attack, reassuring myself that at least I wouldn't need to go through that tonight. But would this mean I'd have to come back since not everything was done? I'm nervous not only because I'm not looking forward to another appointment - but also because what if this screws up my Trial somehow? I didn't go through all the crap I've already gone through and pumped with some unknown substance into my body for it to just suddenly mean nothing. I guess I'm going to have to call my doctor later this week to find out for sure.
As I was walking out with my mother I made a comment that I would have to include tonight's events in my next blog. She shot back that maybe I should write about Sloan in a positive way rather then a negative one. I don't agree with her that I've been portraying Sloan in a negative light. I just want to be clear - that hospital has done miracles with me and I will forever be grateful for the amazing doctor's I've come in contact with there. I'm alive and well today because of them. However, when I started writing this blog I made it a point to commit to documenting everything along this journey - both good and bad. This is life and shitty things happen all the time. People fuck up. Mistakes happen. I just wish they wouldn't happen so often in my world but hey - what can ya do!
At least the softball size welt that I usually get from my vaccination didn't seem as bad this time around. I didn't really have a lot of pain and you can see that the spot isn't as large. Perhaps there is a "sweet spot" on my arm that when injected into that specific area, my reaction isn't as severe.
To close out my thoughts for tonight, I'd just like to take a moment to talk to all the "social" smokers out there. I can proudly say that I have no regrets in my life. I did everything I did because at the time I did it, I thought it was the "right" thing to do and I trust myself and know that I've learned from many, many mistakes I've made along the way. One of the things I would do differently if I could do it over would be to never have been a "social" smoker in my earlier years.
I was never a smoker. However, when I would drink if someone was holding a cigarette I would take a few drags. Why? Why did I ever do this? Honestly - what is the point? What did it get me? I haven't touched a cigarette in about 6 years...this isn't because of Cancer. This is because I realized how incredibly fucking dumb it was. It didn't do anything for me but give me a headache and a sore throat. I was scared it was going to fuck up my voice. Ha.
I've had way too many heated discussions with friends and loved ones regarding the dangers of only being a "social" smoker. The sad fact of the matter is, no one understands unless they actually have to go through something themselves. I haven't touched a cigarette in years - yet I wound up with Cancer in my lung. It's so unfair...yet I wouldn't wish this fucking disease on my worst enemy. However, I do wish I could make people understand that every time you inhale all those poisons/chemicals, you're that much closer to having your worst nightmares come true.
This isn't a joke. It's a cold and extremely lonely place when you're the one the doctor is showing the scans of a malignant tumor to. When you're the one questioning how much longer you're expected to live. When you're the one sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, watching dying people sitting across from you...and to your left...and to your right...all hanging onto the hope that they might get a few more years, or months...or days.
It's especially lonely when you watch people you care so much about voluntarily stick that cigarette in their mouth after they were hysterically crying about how broken they were knowing you have Cancer again only a few months ago. I honestly wish I was without a fucking care in the world and could have the option to light up whenever I felt like it. Why not? People do it all the time. But at what cost? I guess they never really think there is a cost until something horrible happens to them. Clearly it's not enough when something horrible happens to someone they love and apparently care so much about.
There are many things in this life that I have questioned and will continue to question. That will forever remain one of them. How someone could be so close to another that they go to every doctor's appointment. Sit through every anxiety attack. Watch every tear fall from that other person's eyes. See all the pain and torment that other person has as they battle a life-threatening disease that they got stuck with for no apparent and good reason...yet they voluntarily put themselves at risk for the same disaster to happen to them. I don't understand. It doesn't make any sense. It makes me so extremely angry - and it always will. I'm the one that wound up with this, yet I'm the one that always tried to keep it away.
Think before you act, people. Is it really worth it in the end?
And as for the 10 additional vials of blood...all I have to say to you is...
Monday, October 10, 2011
4th vaccination.
Today I was scheduled for my 4th vaccination and a visit with my Oncologist. I arrived approximately 45 minutes early to my appointment with my doctor and was (un)pleasantly surprised that she had scheduled me for some blood work prior to my meeting with her. YAY! I'm not sure if it was because I didn't have much time to react or because I'm (gasp!) actually getting better with getting stabbed but I did super well! No crying, no weird anxiety...it was actually as if I could handle it. Could I possibly be getting over my phobia?
I know that when people have anxiety towards a certain thing a lot of times they're treated by being exposed to whatever it is that they're anxious about. Maybe by constantly having to deal with this crap it's actually helping me get over it or at least make it tolerable for me. We'll see.
I was in and out with the blood work, vitals and finally meeting with my doctor. I made sure to complain about that nasty bitch I had to meet with in her place the last time I had a check up. She told me she "wasn't surprised" with what I had to say - I'm guessing others had the same complaints I did. Like, what the hell? If people are complaining about her then why keep her on this Trial? It's not my fault she's a miserable shrew. Whatev. I told my doctor that if for some reason in the future she wasn't available I would absolutely not meet with that other asshole. Done and done.
I also told her that my ribs were still killing me. Lately they feel like they're even more sore then they were last month (not to mention I'm still all numb). Perhaps it's because I'm not really free-boobin' it a lot lately. I'm working and then going out after and not really lettin' it all hang out until I get home at night. Anyway, my doctor decided to check them out by pressing her fingers into the sore spots...! So not only were they sore before she checked them but they were that much worse after I left my appointment with her. Always a good time at Sloan. Lucky for me I had hours of bra-wearing time left...
Because they have to wait for the results of my blood work to come back on days when I meet with the doctor before they can thaw out my vaccination, I was informed that it would take an hour and 1/2 to two hours before I could get my injection.
My dad and I headed to dinner, walked around the city, got some cupcakes at Crumbs and sat at Barnes and Noble for a bit. We headed back and were called in right away...where we wound up sitting for an hour more...waiting. How I love wasting time.
The vaccination was quick and wasn't as painful as it normally is. Even now, over 3 hours later, my arm isn't red or swollen and doesn't really hurt. I guess I'll see what it looks like tomorrow. I told the nurse to give me the shot a little lower then she normally does because I have my first real vocal gig since surgery coming up on Wednesday with my ladies, The Bar-Top Bandits (look us up), and I'm going to cover up the giant blotch with a bandanna tied around my arm.
At least I can try to look decent since my stupid voice might not be full force. My allergies are TERRIBLE. My ears are clogged, my throat is scratchy, my nose is running, my head is congested and my face is schnozy. Yes...schnozy. It's not a good thing. I might as well have a nasty cold. Leave it to me to have a serious vocal performance and be sick for it. I remember in high school I was legit sick for every single show I was in. Every single one. I would be backstage chugging tea with lemon and honey and sucking like I've never sucked before on cough drop after cough drop after cough drop. Something tells me I'm going to have some deja vu on Wednesday. Not good. Hopefully it all goes well.
I have my next appointment at Sloan next Monday...at 6:45pm. So I get to work a full work day then rush into the city to get 10 vials of blood drawn! What a great day that will be! I guess I just need to take it one day at a time. Today wasn't terrible. And after this next appointment I won't have another one until early December. I guess that's something to look forward to...although I'll be getting my first CT Scan's since I started the Trial at that time. I'm both nervous and excited to get the scans. Nervous because of what might or might not show up and excited for what might or might not show up.
Hopefully I can start my Cancer-free anniversaries again. Fingers crossed.
So now I'm home, relaxing...feet up, binding bra off...blowing my nose every 9 minutes, sneezing every 7 minutes and dabbing the tears seeping out of my watery eyes every 4 minutes. These crappy Kleenex tissues feel like sandpaper and I can't stop peeing because I must have drank 38 cups of tea today. Ah, all in a day in the life of a chick with bad allergies.
At least I'm in the company of a little man who wants to make out despite my appearance...
I know that when people have anxiety towards a certain thing a lot of times they're treated by being exposed to whatever it is that they're anxious about. Maybe by constantly having to deal with this crap it's actually helping me get over it or at least make it tolerable for me. We'll see.
I was in and out with the blood work, vitals and finally meeting with my doctor. I made sure to complain about that nasty bitch I had to meet with in her place the last time I had a check up. She told me she "wasn't surprised" with what I had to say - I'm guessing others had the same complaints I did. Like, what the hell? If people are complaining about her then why keep her on this Trial? It's not my fault she's a miserable shrew. Whatev. I told my doctor that if for some reason in the future she wasn't available I would absolutely not meet with that other asshole. Done and done.
I also told her that my ribs were still killing me. Lately they feel like they're even more sore then they were last month (not to mention I'm still all numb). Perhaps it's because I'm not really free-boobin' it a lot lately. I'm working and then going out after and not really lettin' it all hang out until I get home at night. Anyway, my doctor decided to check them out by pressing her fingers into the sore spots...! So not only were they sore before she checked them but they were that much worse after I left my appointment with her. Always a good time at Sloan. Lucky for me I had hours of bra-wearing time left...
Because they have to wait for the results of my blood work to come back on days when I meet with the doctor before they can thaw out my vaccination, I was informed that it would take an hour and 1/2 to two hours before I could get my injection.
My dad and I headed to dinner, walked around the city, got some cupcakes at Crumbs and sat at Barnes and Noble for a bit. We headed back and were called in right away...where we wound up sitting for an hour more...waiting. How I love wasting time.
The vaccination was quick and wasn't as painful as it normally is. Even now, over 3 hours later, my arm isn't red or swollen and doesn't really hurt. I guess I'll see what it looks like tomorrow. I told the nurse to give me the shot a little lower then she normally does because I have my first real vocal gig since surgery coming up on Wednesday with my ladies, The Bar-Top Bandits (look us up), and I'm going to cover up the giant blotch with a bandanna tied around my arm.
At least I can try to look decent since my stupid voice might not be full force. My allergies are TERRIBLE. My ears are clogged, my throat is scratchy, my nose is running, my head is congested and my face is schnozy. Yes...schnozy. It's not a good thing. I might as well have a nasty cold. Leave it to me to have a serious vocal performance and be sick for it. I remember in high school I was legit sick for every single show I was in. Every single one. I would be backstage chugging tea with lemon and honey and sucking like I've never sucked before on cough drop after cough drop after cough drop. Something tells me I'm going to have some deja vu on Wednesday. Not good. Hopefully it all goes well.
I have my next appointment at Sloan next Monday...at 6:45pm. So I get to work a full work day then rush into the city to get 10 vials of blood drawn! What a great day that will be! I guess I just need to take it one day at a time. Today wasn't terrible. And after this next appointment I won't have another one until early December. I guess that's something to look forward to...although I'll be getting my first CT Scan's since I started the Trial at that time. I'm both nervous and excited to get the scans. Nervous because of what might or might not show up and excited for what might or might not show up.
Hopefully I can start my Cancer-free anniversaries again. Fingers crossed.
So now I'm home, relaxing...feet up, binding bra off...blowing my nose every 9 minutes, sneezing every 7 minutes and dabbing the tears seeping out of my watery eyes every 4 minutes. These crappy Kleenex tissues feel like sandpaper and I can't stop peeing because I must have drank 38 cups of tea today. Ah, all in a day in the life of a chick with bad allergies.
At least I'm in the company of a little man who wants to make out despite my appearance...
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
What are we waiting for?
It's been a while since I wrote last and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing. Perhaps it's good since I don't have any new and crappy things to say about myself. My ribs still hurt. My scar is still jaggedly placed on my upper back. I'm still "enrolled" in the Trial. I'm still slowly but surely regaining full use of my lungs. It still feels weird to take a deep breath. I'm still numb under my left arm and down around my side. Everything is still the same other then the fact that I guess I'm feeling a little emotional with all the news surrounding the recent passing of Apple co-founder, Steve Jobs.
Being on the Committee for my town's Relay For Life (largest fundraiser The American Cancer Society holds each year...look it up if you don't know what it is...it's amazing) every year I'm always utilizing the phrase that everyone has been touched by Cancer in some way. Whether a friend, relative, colleague, friend of a friend, or they themselves have the disease, everyone is affected by this killer in one way or another. It doesn't discriminate. Cancer attacks every race, gender, age, religion. Truly Good people...brilliant people...undeserving people...are beaten down by this disease each day. It's absolutely heartbreaking when you think about it.
Imagine a man who helped shaped the face of technology as we know it today - a visionary in his field - dying at the premature age of 56. I guess I just can't help but wonder what else he could've possibly done in his lifetime had his existence not been claimed by Cancer. Every day people are feeling the sting of being told You have Cancer yet we continue not to really live life. We continue to pollute our bodies with toxins. We continue to stay in relationships that make us unhappy. We continue to stay at jobs we hate. We continue to hold back telling people we love them because we're scared or hurt or have too much pride. We continue to just go through the motions instead of truly enjoying and living life to the absolute fullest. I know I'm as guilty as any with this reality. But why? What are we afraid of? What are we waiting for? It will be too late once we're dead.
I can honestly say that lately I've definitely been doing certain things a lot more then I used to. I sing at every chance I get. In the car. In my room. At work. In the shower. At the top of my lungs. Under my breath. Into a mic. Into a hairbrush. I almost lost something that means so much to me that I tear up just thinking about what could've been had something just gone slightly different during my surgery.
I go out more. I take more chances. I say yes more then I say no. I find myself out of my element a little more each day and find myself actually enjoying it. Maybe I'm finally beginning to realize life is more then just waking up, going to work, eating a boring meal, sitting in traffic, going to sleep. Yeah, maybe it sucks if I'm tired the next day but having a great time the night before with friends, laughing, savoring the simple pleasures this life can actually throw at you might be worth the heavy eyelids.
I've said many times that this fucked up disease hasn't changed me in many ways - especially the way I viewed the world. Maybe I was wrong. Lately I do seem to stare at the colors a sunset sky provides a little longer. I drive with the windows down to feel the breeze instead of worrying if it will mess up my hair. I'm late to work more often because I'll sit in my car in the parking lot to finish the end of a song I love to hear. They're not big changes. No one would even notice I'm any different - I barely do. But it's a start. It's something. Maybe it'll lead to something a little more significant and maybe it won't. Who knows. But it's something.
Being on the Committee for my town's Relay For Life (largest fundraiser The American Cancer Society holds each year...look it up if you don't know what it is...it's amazing) every year I'm always utilizing the phrase that everyone has been touched by Cancer in some way. Whether a friend, relative, colleague, friend of a friend, or they themselves have the disease, everyone is affected by this killer in one way or another. It doesn't discriminate. Cancer attacks every race, gender, age, religion. Truly Good people...brilliant people...undeserving people...are beaten down by this disease each day. It's absolutely heartbreaking when you think about it.
Imagine a man who helped shaped the face of technology as we know it today - a visionary in his field - dying at the premature age of 56. I guess I just can't help but wonder what else he could've possibly done in his lifetime had his existence not been claimed by Cancer. Every day people are feeling the sting of being told You have Cancer yet we continue not to really live life. We continue to pollute our bodies with toxins. We continue to stay in relationships that make us unhappy. We continue to stay at jobs we hate. We continue to hold back telling people we love them because we're scared or hurt or have too much pride. We continue to just go through the motions instead of truly enjoying and living life to the absolute fullest. I know I'm as guilty as any with this reality. But why? What are we afraid of? What are we waiting for? It will be too late once we're dead.
I can honestly say that lately I've definitely been doing certain things a lot more then I used to. I sing at every chance I get. In the car. In my room. At work. In the shower. At the top of my lungs. Under my breath. Into a mic. Into a hairbrush. I almost lost something that means so much to me that I tear up just thinking about what could've been had something just gone slightly different during my surgery.
I go out more. I take more chances. I say yes more then I say no. I find myself out of my element a little more each day and find myself actually enjoying it. Maybe I'm finally beginning to realize life is more then just waking up, going to work, eating a boring meal, sitting in traffic, going to sleep. Yeah, maybe it sucks if I'm tired the next day but having a great time the night before with friends, laughing, savoring the simple pleasures this life can actually throw at you might be worth the heavy eyelids.
I've said many times that this fucked up disease hasn't changed me in many ways - especially the way I viewed the world. Maybe I was wrong. Lately I do seem to stare at the colors a sunset sky provides a little longer. I drive with the windows down to feel the breeze instead of worrying if it will mess up my hair. I'm late to work more often because I'll sit in my car in the parking lot to finish the end of a song I love to hear. They're not big changes. No one would even notice I'm any different - I barely do. But it's a start. It's something. Maybe it'll lead to something a little more significant and maybe it won't. Who knows. But it's something.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
My first day back
It seems that with each vaccination I get, the swelling and red blotch on my arm gets a little larger. Sadly, I didn't take a photo of what my arm looked like this last time around but it was probably around the size of the bottom of a coffee mug (if you were to press it to your arm and trace the circumference with a pen). That is most definitely larger then the first two injections I received. I'm hoping that as the weeks go by and I continue to get vaccinations my entire arm doesn't blow up so that I look like I have Elephantitis. I guess we shall see.
My last few days of freedom before returning to work proved to be pretty damn good as I had a trip to Miami with my ladies booked. I was able to get a nice tan (that I apparently couldn't acquire the entire summer while laying in my yard), go out and have fun with my friends before returning to the real world. Some highlights of the trip include:
* Peeing in a cup so my friend could pore it on her hand in order to subside the burning feeling of her newly acquired jellyfish sting
* Receiving VIP seats and free drinks from old Indian men whom were quite fond of a few of us (especially my cousin who was probably 2ft taller then the smitten one, resting his head on her bosom while trying to dance with her)
* My girls getting hit on by two, much older DRUNK gentlemen...one of which was pointing to my phone which I was holding out in front of me but wound up basically poking me in my chest. Way to cop a free feel, buddy.
* One of my wonderful friends (whom shall remain nameless) getting so drunk that she fell asleep at the bar one night and wound up puking all over a cab one of the following nights...
Good times, people. Good times...
Which leads me into my first day back at work which was yesterday, 9/6. One would think that being out for basically 2 months I would receive some help on my first day back. NOPE! Not that lucky, sucker! My colleague had a scheduled week vacation this week which is fine...but I was informed that at least I would have one person here to help me as I returned to the office. I think it was a FINE idea to let me fend for myself my very first day back at work - especially not knowing what the hell was going on, what orders were open, who was working, etc. This is the company I work for. They really care a great deal for their associates. Clearly.
On top of all of that, I also brought home a stomach bug from Miami...causing me to be in the bathroom every 20 minutes with shit (literally) coming out both sides of me (I know, I'm very lady-like) as well as horrendous stomach pains. I was legit sitting at my desk with my work pants completely unbuttoned and un-zipped because I couldn't deal with any pressure on my belly.
Needless to say, my first day back sucked huge hairy-ass balls.
On a lighter note, I was asked to sing The National Anthem this coming Sunday for 9/11 at Asbury Park's Oyster Festival! I'm excited just to go to the festival but singing at it is even better. Especially being able to do something patriotic on a day such as that. It always brings back memories of being in high school 10 years ago (yikes, I'm showing my age) and watching everything happen on a small TV in the Library of my school. Crazy.
My next appointments at Sloan aren't until October which I am SUPER happy about. At least I won't have to go for another month.
My last few days of freedom before returning to work proved to be pretty damn good as I had a trip to Miami with my ladies booked. I was able to get a nice tan (that I apparently couldn't acquire the entire summer while laying in my yard), go out and have fun with my friends before returning to the real world. Some highlights of the trip include:
* Peeing in a cup so my friend could pore it on her hand in order to subside the burning feeling of her newly acquired jellyfish sting
* Receiving VIP seats and free drinks from old Indian men whom were quite fond of a few of us (especially my cousin who was probably 2ft taller then the smitten one, resting his head on her bosom while trying to dance with her)
* My girls getting hit on by two, much older DRUNK gentlemen...one of which was pointing to my phone which I was holding out in front of me but wound up basically poking me in my chest. Way to cop a free feel, buddy.
* One of my wonderful friends (whom shall remain nameless) getting so drunk that she fell asleep at the bar one night and wound up puking all over a cab one of the following nights...
Good times, people. Good times...
Which leads me into my first day back at work which was yesterday, 9/6. One would think that being out for basically 2 months I would receive some help on my first day back. NOPE! Not that lucky, sucker! My colleague had a scheduled week vacation this week which is fine...but I was informed that at least I would have one person here to help me as I returned to the office. I think it was a FINE idea to let me fend for myself my very first day back at work - especially not knowing what the hell was going on, what orders were open, who was working, etc. This is the company I work for. They really care a great deal for their associates. Clearly.
On top of all of that, I also brought home a stomach bug from Miami...causing me to be in the bathroom every 20 minutes with shit (literally) coming out both sides of me (I know, I'm very lady-like) as well as horrendous stomach pains. I was legit sitting at my desk with my work pants completely unbuttoned and un-zipped because I couldn't deal with any pressure on my belly.
Needless to say, my first day back sucked huge hairy-ass balls.
On a lighter note, I was asked to sing The National Anthem this coming Sunday for 9/11 at Asbury Park's Oyster Festival! I'm excited just to go to the festival but singing at it is even better. Especially being able to do something patriotic on a day such as that. It always brings back memories of being in high school 10 years ago (yikes, I'm showing my age) and watching everything happen on a small TV in the Library of my school. Crazy.
My next appointments at Sloan aren't until October which I am SUPER happy about. At least I won't have to go for another month.
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