Survival, Pills, Plants, Humans ...

May 27, 2011

The Good: If I didn’t have what I have, I’d have slipped into survival mode... I know I would have persevered; it just would have been a long and lonely journey with no one to wipe my brow...

I have 100 Days of Happiness; someone to shake my arm when I’m ready to cry from the pain; a spaze who makes me laugh when I want to cry; a brother/ sister in law who carry me when I’m tipsy and listen no matter the day or time; a sister who says I love you, a brother in law who loves me having known me for such a short time; nieces and a nephew that keep me young at heart and remind me I need to be here longer; juicer friends who hug me longer and harder when I need it most; an ex-husband who kept his heart open to me, his girlfriend who accepted me, an ex-sister in law who reached out; my France connection who sends me inspirational quotes without fail and keeps me strong when I’m feeling weak; the one who reaches for a glass of water to avoid the tears that come when we talk; Martini, martini, martini, you make me smile and shop like a trooper, love those big fingers, I’m your chickpea; girlfriends with No1 Chinese Food, girlfriends who introduce little pink purses as a reminder of friendship; a new acquaintance who wanted to meet and share her desire for me to write; you dangling me and our chats over greasy breakfasts; mad men keeps me busy, keeping in touch with your kind words makes me happy; co-workers who are friends, friends because what each and every one of you do goes beyond work; a friend I’ve lost touch with who wants to reconnect... and my guardian angel who has been there from day one and who has seen the ugly side of cancer , the ugly side of me, and who held me harder than anyone could.

Thank you for the brow wipe, the sweat is more than I could have handled alone...

The Bad: In “Cancer Land” there is a pill for every ache and pain, and a pill to counter affect the side effects of that pill, and another pill for the affects of that one... all of these pills are often worse than what ails me.  Prescriptions flow, good intentions translated to a pad, where does it end... bottle after bottle takes up real estate in my kitchen drawer, tossed aside from side effects; afraid to gamble with the unknown.  How many of these drug pushers have actually tried the drugs, if they did, would there be more money spent to improve them?

I’m not a pharmacist, nor am I Doctor, I’m a cancer patient who gags each time she has to swallow another pill wondering if I’ll get a rash, heart palpitations, chest pains, nausea, fatigue, constipation, and the list goes on ... minor for the average person perhaps, major for the person who’s body is already being ravaged, I want to run so bad from the Cure....

Chorus from “Just Like A Pill” PINK

Run just as fast as I can
To the middle of nowhere
To the middle of my frustrated fears
And I swear you're just like a pill
Instead of makin' me better, you keep makin' me ill
You keep makin' me ill

The What the ???:  I was told “you’re not a plant, you are not rooted, you won’t live and die like this, you were meant to do more and you will”... They meant it as in some people live in one place, in one moment, other people move around in their purpose, and that’s me, and that I haven’t moved around enough to leave... they said I have a purpose that will come in time; I just need to be patient.

Lessons Learned: There is no pill on the market, black or white-pad which can relieve my pain the way human connections can.

Voodoo Doll, Attack, FREAKING PICC Lines, Opportunities...

May 20, 2011

The Good: My sister and her new husband sent me a care package filled with gifts from stops made during their Vegas/ Mexican cruise wedding.  One such gift is a voodoo doll named Sumo; she is used for good instead of evil.  Her mission, as stated below her feet is “To watch over your body and help you love what you are.”  She is now named “Miss-Understood” and is hanging on my balcony protecting what I am.

The Bad: I feel as if I’m lying on the ground, unable to protect myself while being repeatedly kicked in the ribs.  Laying here like this, defenceless, I escape by going into my brain and thinking... and while thinking I wonder what kind of footprint I’ve left given all my soles/souls are facing sideways.

The What the ???:  The PICC Line, the line I love to hate... that crazy ass tube that goes in my arm up to my chest, the one that “rarely” causes “any” problems... to date I’ve reacted to the plastic dressing and stretch band cover, skin has broken down, and I developed a blood clot simply by inserting it... yeah, it “rarely” causes problems. 

I just learned that your body can reject a PICC Line over time, which means it PUSHES IT OUT, so naturally my body is SUCKING IT IN!!!  A home care nurse noted it had gone in by 4cm and promptly called the hospital to report it, seems this is a big deal as it could have HIT MY HEART! 

So why wasn’t it a concern when it pushed in 3cm, or even 2cm??  Apparently this is rare and staff are not well versed in how to react to it... one nurse pointed out “this should have been dealt with earlier” yeah, I agree, BY A FREAKING NURSE, HOW AM I SUPPOSED KNOW...  luckily for me that one home care nurse took the initiative... not that the hospital followed-up on the detailed message that was left, I had to follow-up on my own, yet they still say “THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEALT WITH BEFORE”...

I wish I could play back these conversations on a big screen, invite everyone involved, and maybe even have popcorn... I had a freaking tube suck back into my body running the risk of it hitting my heart, and up until yesterday nobody cared, then all of a sudden hell breaks loose, they won’t take my blood, don’t want to do chemo, this NOW needs to be dealt with immediately.  So yes, they dealt with it, but not without several pushes and follow-up from myself... it’s exhausting being a patient sometimes, and then they put the clip back on incorrectly J. 

Am I pissed, no, ok, maybe a little... more disappointed and reminded that only I can take care of myself, and that I’ll be the only one eating popcorn and playing back these scenarios on the my big screen mind, everyone else has moved on....

Lessons Learned: “Wish” Day 6 of 100 Days of Happiness was filled with opportunities, past, present, and future ones I can look forward to.  My evil goddaughter is teaching me to be patient, that anything is possible and that my door is still open to opportunities that I’ll soon understand... My evil goddaughter is teaching me one Day of Happiness at a time.

Wise Man, Excess Water, Drunk, Criss/ Cross...

May 13, 2011

The Good: I’m reminded today by a wise man that survival, long term or short shouldn’t always be my focus, and I do get hung up on that, I get hung up on trying to do whatever I can to beat this and I think of nothing else, and I forget about the good days I have in between.  I’m reminded today by a wise man that today can be good and that’s all we really have, nobody knows what’s in store long or short term, so I’ll enjoy today for what it is, good and bad, it’s mine. 

The Bad: I’m back on daily chemo for the next 2 weeks and as I walked into that unit I felt the excess water coating my eyeballs, it’s been months since that has happened and I hated myself for not being able to control it... and I knew all it would take was for someone to say something nice and that excess water would spill; damn it, she saw the water retention in my eyeballs and she had to be nice... I hate being there, I hate feeling weak in that place; I hate that place.

The What the ???:  I got drunk on Saturday... I know, it’s not responsible “Cancer Patient” behaviour but it felt good, and for that short time... ok, long time if you ask my brother; he may have said “this is the longest dinner I’ve ever had”... whatever, for that PERIOD of time, I wasn’t a cancer patient, I was having dinner with my family and friends, and the wine tasted good, and the food tasted good, and the conversation tasted good... I wasn’t in pain; I didn’t think about how I looked, I was just me for that PERIOD of time... The down side is there were witnesses, and I know it’ll take some time to live this down, and do I care, NOPE, from what I heard, I’m a happy drunk J

Lessons Learned: I can go through life with my fingers in my ears going “La La La La La” or I can focus on what direction I need to go on in “Cancer Land”.  I think there’s a fine line between grown up me and childish me and I’m willing to criss/ cross over that line on a regular basis.

Bat Cave, Flashbacks, Curly and Moe, Stitching...

May 6, 2011

The Good: I woke up in my bat cave from the sun... damn; I forgot to close my bedroom door.     I was laying in a position where it didn’t feel like I had a Rubik’s cube shoved under my armpit, my chest wasn’t like an elastic band ready to snap, my stomach wasn’t doing gymnastic tumbles, and my mind was calm... and for those few minutes before I moved, I remembered what it was like, what it was like before this crap took over my life.  I will be so freaking happy when I can feel this way again for more than a few minutes!!

The Bad: I get flashbacks... It starts with me sitting in that little pink room and he tells me I have Inflammatory Breast Cancer, and he can’t look at me, and she’s grabbing my arm at the elevator, and I plead with her to let go, and she let’s go, and I go home, and I fall apart, and I make phone calls in between gasping for air... the show continues with blood work, lung x-ray, CT Scan, MRI, Biopsy, PICC Line insertion, blood clots, chemo, emergency surgery, physio, more chemo... I have no idea when the credits will roll. 

These flashbacks are compartmentalized into slide shows, and they keep adding slides, and the movie get’s longer, and I want to walk out... this movie should never have been made, I’m forced to watch it though, and I’m going to burn it once I’m done.

The What the ???:  I have two oncologists; I refer to them as Curly and Moe.  Curly is British and “Nutty” is how I would describe him, Moe is calm and Zen-like, they complement each other in a very unique way.   What I like best is they treat me like “Caloren/ Jean, depends on the day”, not a number, not a cancer patient, but as a person... they speak to me and not to the disease.

There is a French Fry commercial where kids are sitting around the table talking about what else a French Fry could be.  The first kid says it could be a rocket ship, the second kid says it could be a princess, the third kid doesn’t say anything, he just looks perplexed that she’d say a French Fry could be a princess, this third kid is Curly... he’s got the same look, same expressions; my Curly though is taller with messier hair. 

My Curly has a personality, and he knows I have one as well, and sometimes he looks at me like the third kid in the commercial, perplexed by what I say, and I do the same with him, we don’t always see the French Fry the same way and that’s ok.

Lessons Learned: A close friend of mine sent me this quote; it’s exactly how I feel when I write these blogs, like I’m stitching myself back together after a long week... I’ve got to get a thimble though because I tend to prick my finger on a regular basis.

It's like my whole world is coming undone, but when I write, my pencil is a needle and thread, and I'm stitching the scraps back together." --- Julia Alvarez