"We Have Such a Good Time!"

I caught myself describing my sojourn with cancer in this way.  Who does that?...ME!

Certainly, I have hurt, I have been sick and I have been tested.  However, as a whole, I am enjoying the biggest part of it, the people that God puts in my path. 

How much fun can you have in the chemo bed for 6 hours watching a chemical slowly drip into your veins when you know that in three days you are going to be sicker than you have ever been in your entire life.  Well, I can have a lot of fun.  The nurses tend to want to stay in my room and hang out.  I end up telling some of my crazy stories and we are laughing with tears in our eyes.

One evening when the doctor decided to release me from the hospital the nurse stood in the hall with her bottom lip out as my sister and I left.  She had hopes that I would spend the night during her shift.  What a living doll this gal was.  We carried on so much in my room, I thought they were going to kick me out.

There was a time that I was checking into the chemo center and a little old man stood up, grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen bald, besides my wife".  You know that little man made my day.  Although I do not have any insecurities about my bald head, he did not know that.

So much fun, is yet to be had.  I can't wait!

Making A Difference Every Day!

I talked earlier about the 4 hour shopping trip that should have taken 1 hour.  People kept stopping me to talk about cancer.  What a blessing!  When I finally finished my shopping and got in my car...I could not stop smiling.
 
Wow!  I can not tell you how it feels when you realize that you just made a difference. I get that with my job every day.  When a student has a problem and I am able to help fix it or guide them to a better conclusion, then I have made a difference.  I know that my staff gets that same feeling when they have done the same thing.  I hear it in their voices and see it on their faces when they are talking about their students.

We have the most amazing conversations on the shuttle bus that takes us from the hotel to the medical center.  Remember that everyone on the bus has cancer or is a caregiver for someone that has cancer.  One day, I promised a man from Kuwait that I would pray for him.  His son had to translate, but the look on his face was priceless when he realized what I had said.  I wanted to hug him, but was unsure of his cultural belief in that area.  

I hope that when I talk to someone about my cancer I have made a difference.  Maybe they are more aware of a person's struggles with this disease.  Maybe they are more aware of what faith in a powerful God means.  Maybe they see an example of a person that is very happy, even in the face of diversity.  Maybe they see a person that is passionate about others.  Maybe they see ME!

The "C" Word!

The bald head gets a lot of attention.  What should be a 1 hour shopping trip turned into 4 hours, because so many people stop to ask about what I am, clearly, going through.

If you know me, then you know that I am extremely shy...just kidding.  I will talk to a rock.  But seriously, I am thrilled to share my story.  I have met so many people that want to talk to me about their battle with cancer.  They want to tell me that they are proud that I don't cover my head.  They want someone to tell them that they are going to be o.k. too.  They want to show me their support.  There seems to be a bond between cancer patients. 

I try so hard to lift them up.  The "C" word scares the heck out of a lot of people.

I keep playing the very wise words of my husband over and over in my head.  There was a time in my life that I was upset about something or the other.  He asked me, "where is all this faith that you say you have?"  Wow!  I do talk about my faith in God.  I have faith that he is there for me.  I pray to him about my troubles, among other things.  Then why am I crying about it?  Where is my faith?

After he said that to me, I have always remembered how I felt when he made me realize that I talked the talk, but I was not walking the walk.

Surgically Induced Menopause

No one warned me that I would be plunged into menopause overnight.  I guess when the doctors remove your estrogen producing parts, it makes a difference.

Yep!  Hot flashes, can't sleep and a desire to kill or be killed... are what menopause is all about. 

A phone call to the oncologist does no good what-so-ever.  Hormone replacement therapy is not an option for ovarian cancer survivors.  It is a strong possibility that hormones play a role in the onset of the cancer, to begin with. 

There are natural alternatives out there, but some are shown to interfere with chemo therapy.  When I started this adventure my pharmacist (yep, I have my own that is assigned to my case) took me off of many of my vitamins and minerals for that exact reason.

So, what do I do?  They prescribe anti-anxiety drugs or anti-depressants.  I told them that I was not anxious or depressed.  But they assured me that society would be a better place if I took something.  We will see...

The Lab Tests Are In!

The post surgical lab test on the parts that were removed did show some cancer.

Right ovary - tumor size 4 cm
Left ovary - tumor size 5 mm
Right fallopian tube - tumor size 6 mm

So, dissection and microscopes found what the surgeons did not see.  Not as exciting as "no cancer", but still something worth celebrating.

Recovery

Recovery from surgery, to have a few parts removed, is going well.  My boss was brilliant enough to get tough with me and order me to work from home last week (as I was able).  He knows that I like to be at work "come hell or high water".  He does not yell, but he almost came close. 

I know, you all are jealous that I have such a fabulous boss.  You should be.  Believe me, he knows how to get work out of me, but he also knows when to tell me to shut it down. 

Anyway, back to me, I am still a little sore and can not move really fast, but I am upright.  It is tough to roll over in bed  and to squat & pull weeds in the flower beds...what?...why am I pulling weeds in the flower beds?  Oh!  I have to do a little something every time I walk to the mail box in my Pajamas.  Now, you know why my boss has to get tough with me. 

 

Well, I Got My Sponge Bath!

I am warning you...this may be gross.

Evidently, I was in recovery for more than a few hours.  I simply do not remember.  But I do remember the evening in my hospital room.

Sooooo, you know how you have the dry-est mouth when you wake up from surgery.  They give you ice chips to suck on so that you do not take too much into your stomach.  They even provide plenty of medication to keep the nausea down.

The nurse helped me to the restroom one time and showed me how to unhook everything so that I could do it myself.  She then tells me that I did not pee enough.  What the heck...I thought that meant I needed to drink those ice chips as they melt so that I could get more fluids through me.

At this point, you would have to imagine vomit of biblical proportions.  I am not sure how it all happened so fast, but I ended up standing naked in the middle of the hospital room with vomit dripping off of the top of my head.  I was shivering and hanging onto my I.V. pole.  The poor nurse was also covered in it.

I apologized to the poor sweet nurse about 20 times.  I probably should not have been laughing about it, but it was so funny.