Random Pictures

Lots of snow on my BBQ

The Vortex growing on my head
Radioactive Sign on my desk - it brought some levity and laughter to the office when most people didn't know what to say or how to act.

Radiation Room - notice hot air balloon picture on the ceiling lights in the upper left corner of the picture. The chemo room had a picture of blue sky and clouds. At least they try to make the cancer center pretty and relaxing.

It is official - I passed cancer!

Chemo 4 Surgeries 3 Radiation 33 Linda Won!

It is finished. It's been almost six months to the day that I was diagnosed back in early July. It seems like it was just yesterday but feels like it's been my entire life. Dad and Mom both came with me this morning. It was the worst driving conditions for Dad today of the whole ordeal with lots of snow and ice. I don't think he is going to miss the three hour commute we had each day. I know I never would have been able to do what I have done without him and Mom taking care of me. And I am really going to miss them. The staff was great at the cancer center with everyone coming around to congratulate me. They gave me a certificate that everyone signed, a book on what's next for me as a cancer survivor who has finished treatment, and an african violet. I don't have to go back until February 10th for meetings with each of my oncologists. In all I missed four days of work for surgeries, four days for chemo treatment days, four days from chemo pain, and a couple of half days from radiation fatigue.

.

A lot has happened in my life in the past six months. Not all of it cancer related - believe it or not. I've gained a wonderful relationship with someone who is smarter than me if can you believe that :), started a fun challenging new job, moved into a comfy house with the perfect back yard, have four new scars, gained a huge appreciation for health care workers, explored some beautiful areas of Arizona and Utah, for the first time ever I used up all of my sick days at work, moved away from friends that I still miss terribly every single day, lost all of the hair on my body, look ten years older, felt more physical pain than I thought I could bear, heard some great new songs with lyrics that seemed written for me("December never felt so wrong"), learned that no matter how badly I felt for myself there are so many out there with much bigger struggles, first saw Charlie and Candy Mountain, went from the scared new girl to the wizened old timer in the radiation waiting room, brought home hundreds of cards of support from the post office, reaffirmed what a fantastically supportive family I am blessed to have, wrote checks for thousands of dollars, was bamboozled, made new friends (thanks chemo angels Linda and Cindy!), hated every single stinkin' second of being bald, gained weight, then lost some of the gained weight, learned way more than I ever dreamed about breast cancer, read lots of books, wrote lots of long wordy blogs like this one, felt pretty good about myself and all that I have and will accomplish, was blown away by all the support I received, gained an appreciation for every day that is not a chemo day, learned to wear hats, kept ignoring the elephant, and learned for a fact that laughter really is the best medicine.

.

I was going to quit writing this blog in the next few days. I have even decided the opening and ending lines of the final blog. But I've got a few more pictures to post and a few more thoughts about cancer rattling around in my head. So, I think you are stuck with me for a little while longer anyway.

The End is Tantalizingly Close

Only six more radiation treatments left. Six. 1,2,3,4,5,SIX! That seems like nothing compared to thirty-three. In November, thirty-three just seemed to be so insurmountable. I couldn’t even imagine making it to the end of thirty-three. Six seems so doable. When I reach out to six, it is right there at the end of my finger tips. Tantalizingly close. But as much as I stretch for it, still out of reach. Six should feel like a number I could do in my sleep with both hands and a foot tied behind my back. But when I start to think that this adventure might be over, six seems huge. Huge mentally. I want to be excited to be finished but I almost don’t want to jinx it. I don’t want to assume that I can finally go back to being Linda and then find out she’s not at all able to come back yet or not at all. I want “normal" not a “new normal”. I wish I could write all sorts of triumphant blogs; “what I learned from cancer”, "what’s next for Linda - a vacation!”, “I didn’t get an A but at least I didn’t fail cancer”, “I am grateful to all my friends and family for being there with me”, etc. I should be able to spend the next month writing happy future facing blogs. But instead every time I think about finishing my cancer treatment I mentally freeze up and physically start holding my breath. I’d like to say that I don’t start to wonder if maybe I’m not done forever or that I don’t worry that maybe I didn’t make the best treatment decisions. But I do. Not much but I do worry. I worry about all sorts of things but mostly I worry about my health in the future. If I have a recurrence and have to go through this again it is a whole new ballgame. Will I have the strength to do it all again? No idea. Seriously – none. I still can’t believe I walked back into that chemo room three more times after I knew what was going to happen. Yeah – just now took my breath away just thinking about it. I just so want this done – wholly totally utterly outright entirely finally absolutely forever done. So, I’ll be sitting here holding my breath for the next week and a half. Six. Such a little number.

Only 8 Treaments Left

I have two more this week, four the week of New Years, and the final two the first week of January. I'm starting to get burns and even some blisters. It hurts but it is no chemo. They had me buy some aquaphor to put on it as much as I can. I've also started to get nauseous. I'm not sure what is causing it. I'll have to look up radiation side affects again. Not that it matters. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now so there's nothing I can't handle.

.

I'm back home at the canyon. The snow continues but so far we have missed it by going early for treatment today and hopefully going later will work tomorrow. Then I just have to worry about Wednesday morning then it's three days of radiation free joyness.

.

My hair is starting to come back. It's really short and very dark right now. The top is thicker than the sides. And I have a big swirling vortex all across the back of my head. My favorite niece has asked that I post a picture of my new hair so I'll try to get one in the next few days. I'm just excited that in the next month or so I'll go from looking sickly to just looking like I made a poor hair style choice.

.

I had a great weekend exploring the area more and taking pictures on Saturday. I would have a great story but apparently what happens at Black Bart's RV Park and Dinner Musical Revue stays at Black Bart's RV Park and Dinner Musical Revue! Sunday I had radiation in the morning and then an afternoon of sledding. We were the oldest people there but the youngest at heart. We showed those young whippersnappers a few moves. My face hurt this morning from laughing so hard.

I'm 42 and Bald - but it sure as heck beats the alternative

Birthday Flowers

I've been staying in Flagstaff all week due to the recent snow fall. It wasn't the return to the canyon that made me nervous it was getting back to Flag the next day. There was no way I was going to miss having the port taken out. So, here's the snow on the car on Tuesday morning. It has pretty much snowed constantly ever since. I've scraped this much and more off the car each day. It's been fun! Plus I have the world's best boss so I was able to work most of the week out of our offices here.
Everything you need for a successful port extraction. It took only around ten minutes and in the doctor's office. Much easier than when it went in.
The port coming out. I photoshopped out the blood and gore for the squeamish. It was much bigger than I thought. I'm trying to decide what to do with it. A necklace, bracelet, broach? It is sooo nice to stretch my neck out again!

Weekends Away From Cancer

I can say one thing for radiation - so far other than being inconvenient - it has not affected how I feel physically. On weekends when I don't have to visit my Northern Arizona Cancer Center friends I can actually have a life away from cancer. Unlike that horrible time during chemo. So, for the past two weekends I've left the village and the cancer behind. Last weekend I was in Greer for a friend's birthday party. It was full of friends, laughter, good food, games and lots of fun. This weekend was in Page and included but was not limited to - hiking, exploring, sunshine, even more laughter, a flock of bluebirds, a random balloon, a lack of restrooms, some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, music, quail, owl poop, wind, more laughing....heck, I was even bamboozled - TWICE! Trust me that doesn't happen very often - it was kind of fun. There was a time during chemo I couldn't even dream of ever again getting out and hiking and playing and laughing like I did this weekend. There is life after a cancer diagnosis - and I'm learning fast it's all what you make of it. I'll post some pictures tomorrow.

.

Thanks My Friend. And I still have to go with Star Trek. :)

.

.

Have I Mentioned Lately How Much I Hate Having Cancer?

It's been over five months since I was diagnosed and the treatments are never ending. I keep saying that I don't want to be "cancer girl" but even I am starting to define myself that way in my mind. I know I just have to hang on and that it will be over in less than a month but those 18 treatments that are left just seem daunting. And then what? I'll still have to wait years to get my long hair back, who knows what side effects I'll have in the long term, and heaven forbid there's a recurrance. sigh........ I think I'm just being melancholy tonight and starting to feel tired from the radiation treatments. I wish this had never happened to me but since it has I'm trying to deal with it as best as I can but sometimes it's hard. I just want to be OK.

Eleven Down - Only Twenty Three To Go!

The massage was a nice treat today. It's been a long time since I felt that good - physically anyway.

.

I'm starting to show some redness. Sort of like a light sunburn. They gave me some directions for pain and/or itchiness. So far it doesn't bother me at all. It's strange to see the difference in skin color. The radiation is just like an X-ray. I can neither see nor feel anything while it's happening. I guess now I know it's actually doing something. I can see now why everyone else leaves the room while they zap me. Everyone seemed happy to see me today - guess I should have been nice to them sooner!

.

All I want for Christmas is my port taken out - and I made the appointment. December 17th is the day. I hope they let me keep it!

.

Just throwing in a picture I took in Arches National Park a couple of years ago. No reason other that it's a nice winter shot.

A Moment of Clarity

For some reason I could not sleep at all last night. I finally drifted off around 6:30am. No idea what that was about but I had a lot of time to think. I realized I've been a complete idiot about radiation. I'm mentally fighting the treatment and not the disease. I've been angry towards the wrong things and I've taken it out on the nice people at the Cancer Center. I walk in each day, change clothes, sit in the waiting room waiting to be called, I lay down, they zap me, I change clothes and leave. I am not nice to anyone, I answer all questions with one syllables, I don't smile, I angrily tap my foot if I have to wait more than a couple of seconds, I lay there stiffly hating every second of it as I get radiated, and I fume the whole way home. They must think I am naturally a negative person. Then it hit me last night as I lay there thinking about what the heck I am going to do if it comes back. Radiation is my friend. I should be thinking postive healing thoughts while I am undergoing treatment. Plus the folks there do not deserve my attitude in the least. Today I walked in trying to be happier. Right away I noticed a difference. The receptionist who usually doesn't even look up when I walk in was waiting for me. "There you are - I was looking for you." Oh Oh I thought - she's looking for money. Nope - she asked f I wanted to sign up for an hour massage tomorrow. Of course I would. I asked how much it would cost and she said they were free for patients - the Susan G. Komen Foundation pays for them. Sweet - I like this place better already I thought. Then I grabbed a couple of Oreos from the goody box. Before I had a chance to even eat one they called my name. Early even! I have been wanting to ask them if I can come in early this Friday since I am going out of town for the weekend and I have a friend to pick up at the airport that morning. But I have been kind of nervous to ask since they have not been open to my change request before. First thing they say today though is that they would like it if I could come in early on Friday. Great timing! Then for he first time I watched the machine and imagined all those cancer cells being burned to death. I even played with the beams of light on my hand afterwards and got teased by the radiologists for goofing off. I actually enjoyed my short visit today and had my Oreos on the way home. I bet Dad even enjoyed having some conversation on the trip there and back. Instead of my brooding. Tomorrow I go an hour earlier for my massage! I might even smile this time.

.

Funny Note - as we were walking into the center there was another lady walking in at the same time. She was on oxygen, had one foot in a cast, was all bent over, looked 90 years old until you got close and saw she was probably late 40s, was really struggling with each step. She looked one step from death's door and I felt bad for her. Then as I was walking past she turned to her companion and loudly whispered while pointing at me - "at least my hair didn't fall out".

.

My hair is kind of starting to grow in but very strangely. There is the last of the old hair which never really fell out and that's growing in very dark and wiry. Then there's the new stuff that is like a very pale red and is very thin like baby hair. The combination is very interesting to touch so I find myself rubbing my head more than usual.

Eight Down - Only Twenty Five Treatments to Go

I'd like to say the time is going past quickly but I can't. It seems that just as soon as something important is happening at work I have to jump in my car and leave for three and a half hours. The days are also longer when I have to add those three and a half hours onto the end of the work day. I work, I drive to town, and I sleep with ten minutes at the cancer center in the middle of it all. Time has to be going by slowly for Dad also. At least I can sleep during the drive. I offer to drive but every day he declines my offer and by the time we hit the park boundary I have my eyes closed and am probably snoring. I wouldn't be able to have the treatments and work full time without him. i would be too exhausted.

.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I have a huge list of things for which I am thankful. My friends and family are at the top of that list. Thanks everyone!

.

Blog info I found interesting. I've had visitors to this blog from 37 different states and 18 different countries. I've had 3,591 visits by 570 unique visitors. That's a lot of folks reading my late night ramblings. Thanks for visiting! I'll try not to let it make me nervous. ;)

A Beautiful Arizona Weekend

The weather here has just been perfect. I finally got out and played again this weekend. We went exploring south of Williams. I was reminded how out of shape I was on a mile and a half hike but I am already working on fixing that. This is a petroglyph we saw on the hike.

.

Radiation takes 9 minutes from car to car. I had a treatment today - Sunday - so we can all have a four day weekend over Thanksgiving. I have to work most of that time but it will be nice not to make the drive every day.

.

Not much else going on - unless you watched 24:Redemption tonight. Then we have all sorts of things to talk about. Like Tony Almeida is alive?!?! And how it's always nice to see Jack again. It's reassuring to see what a great shot he is compared to the bad guys. Plus am I right in hearing that Janeane Garofalo is going to be on Season 7? Yep - I'm coming back to life just in time for the next season of 24. I think college basketball is starting now also! It's good to be back. And I've given up on being angry. I'm just excited to get this radiation thing done and over with and I'm looking forward to moving on.

One Down - Thirty Two To Go

Yeah, I'm already over the drive. Any way you look at it radiation will take three and a half hours every day. I was really cranky having to leave work today. There is just too much to do and I'm way too busy for this. Who knew cancer took so much time?! Anyway, once I got there it only took a half an hour or so. Most days though it will take less than ten minutes. This time they had to take a few more X-rays and pictures. They also drew a great big square on me. He said I could wash it off so no idea what they was all about. Interesting note - when I am laying on the table they put a big rubber band on my feet to hold them together. That's the worst part of the whole procedure. We then worked on my radiation schedule. Apparently they are really busy right now (something in the water?) so I didn't get much say in my times. Right now I am booked for 1:45pm every day. Which I will make work. I was just hoping to stay in town at least once a week to avoid a bit of the drive. They said I should ask again later this week and see if we can change Mondays and Tuesdays. As much as I hate it admit it - this was just the last straw. I struggle with this whole feeling of having no control and when I met with the social worker I cried. I didn't cry much but enough that she handed me some tissues. It's been awhile since I've cried over this situation so I guess it needed to get out. I'm just so frustrated. Oh well - it's just one more step in the process. Radiation will be over before I know it and let's face it - IT'S NO CHEMO! Plus now that I have my schedule I can make an appointment to have my port out - that will be a great milestone. And my parents are here so I have someone to drive with. I had a nice nap today on the way there with my Dad driving. I kind of feel bad for them this trip. All of the other trips here they have had to house to themselves as I was either at work or in bed. Now I'm up and around and I'm in my chair where Dad usually is, I'm watching Prison Break instead of the news shows they usually watch in the evening, and I tend to sometimes be messy. Dad's already napping and I heard them earlier wondering what happened in the world today. Oh well - at least this time I have the energy to help with doing the dishes and I now contribute to conversations and I made dessert tonight. I might not be the best company for them but I'm not the worst.

Finally - I Am The Wild Rebellious Sister!

I now have FOUR tattoos - that's three more than both of my sisters combined!

.

Radiation Simulation Day is over. I got there at the appointed hour and to get to the radiation waiting room I had to pass the chemo room. I didn't want to look into it and bring back bad memories but then I had to when I heard the noises that were coming from it. It sounded and looked like a party was going on in there. All of the chairs were full with people that actually looked healthy - there was a movie playing on the big screen TV and there was talking and laughter. I get homeless looking chronic coughing guys with me on Tuesdays (and they were very nice to me). No one told me that the cool kids get chemo on Fridays. It almost made me wish I was in there with them. HA - just kidding. I skipped past the room glad it wasn't me and wishing all of them the best.

.

I met with my radiation oncologist next. She had all sorts of good news for me. First of all instead of the 30 sessions I was planning on which would get me finished right at the end of the year. (Thereby I would avoid having to pay my deductible and co-insurance payments in the new year plus to top it off my company is changing insurance companies at the end of the year.) I will instead have 33 sessions. 33?! Who comes up with this stuff. Anyway, no matter how I try to count the days I won't be finished in 2008. Secondly she told me that I can't take baths during treatment. Oh heck - that one hurt. I do love a good bath. Then to top it off she tells me that they not only aren't open on Thanksgiving or Christmas, they aren't open on those Fridays. Which you wouldn't think was so bad but instead they are open the Sunday before. Which means I can't go to California on December 20th for my friend's Christmas party. And I was really looking forward to going to it and seeing the ocean and having some laughs with them and their great friends. Did I mention the great food and drinks?! And then there were all the fun side affects of radiation - such things as cracked ribs, lung problems, skin cancer. I signed another release to let them hurt me to save me and she sent me for the simulation.

.

I was shown the radiation dressing room which has robes and lockers. I'll start here each day and change into a smock and a robe. I was told I would then go sit in the waiting room. I will not need to check in with anyone since there is a camera in the room and they can see that I am there and will come get me when they are ready. That explains the picture they took of me way back in August when I had my first appointment. I look a bit different now so I hope they recognize me and I don't spend hours there waiting every day.

.

It was then on to the simulation. They laid me down on a table and took a CT scan. I wasn't allowed to move but it didn't take long at all as they sent me through a machine that looked like a large very expensive donut with all sorts of cool red lights. I then got to stay laying there in a freezing cold room as the oncologist decided where I needed to be marked with my tattoos. They didn't hurt too much except for the one right on my sternum. That one really stung. But now that I have been through chemo there is nothing they can do to me that hurts ever again.

.

We (me and the folks that just tattooed me) tried to figure out my daily schedule. I hope to go late on Mondays, spend the night in Flagstaff, and then early on Tuesday. Then I will go mid-day Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I figure it is the warmest part of the day and if there is snow the plows will have already been around plus i avoid driving in the dark. Right now I start next Tuesday at 3pm and then we will figure out my schedule for the rest of the time. When I told the oncologist my plan she thought it was a bit too ambitious and thinks I'll end up staying more nights to avoid all the driving (3 hours round trip). She said I could try my way if I was open to adapting the schedule if I got too fatigued as we went along.

.

I then was sent over to the main hospital for a blood draw and a pregnancy test. I was sitting in the waiting room wearing my tan hat when a young bald kid around 9 years old came in with his mother. I took my hat off and he cracked up at my bald head. We bonded over how silly we looked and how much chemo sucks. His Mom later told me that he had been in the hospital for awhile now and that his prognosis wasn't very good. Sorry - I have nothing on David, he's the brave/strong/positive/inspiring one in this story. In his shoes I would be a crying wreck but he is up walking around in his rocket ship PJs and laughing with the funny looking bald lady and making her day. What a great kid.

.

Finally I got a nurse who could find one of my veins on the first try. She asked if a student could try to get the blood first. I used my new mantra - I've been through chemo, nothing you do can hurt me now - of course he can try. He felt all over the place for a vein and couldn't feel one. He gave up on me. I told him to try anyway but he just shook his head, he let the expert stick me with the needle. Even she asked if she could try the other arm to see if there was anything better. I told her there was but she could not use it. Just my luck I get breast cancer on the side with my "good" veins.

.

I then returned for a few hours at work. And now it's the weekend! I'm going to Phoenix tomorrow night to hang out with a couple of friends. I haven't been down there since I moved to Arizona so am looking forward to that and a nice "normal" weekend! I hope all of you also have nice normal weekends.

What Time Is It?

Seriously - because I have no idea. I have lost all sense of time. During the day at any given time I can't tell you if it's morning or afternoon without having to think about it or look at a clock. For some reason every day is Tuesday to me. I keep dating things as 2006. And the worst surprise of all is that this is November. At least ten times a day I look at the calendar and am shocked to see it on November. Every. Single. Time. To me it is still August. I have no idea what happened to the last two and a half months. I want summer and fall of 2008 back!

.

Tomorrow is my first day in the radiation side of the building. I'm actually really nervous and kind of wish I wasn't going alone. I guess it's just that nothing new lately has been any fun. Silly, huh? By this time next week I'll be a radiation expert and probably bored with it too.

The Next Step - Radiation

“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” - John Muir

.

Most of you know I love to hike, explore, and wander. If I'm out hiking somewhere new it's hard to get me to turn around and head home. I want to just look around the next bend, and the next bend, and the next bend; well you see how I am. There is always something new to see and experience. Who knows if I'll ever be this way again - I don't want to miss anything.

.

I'm finding I don't have the same wanderlust with this cancer journey. I really would prefer to not see what's around the next bend and I couldn't care less if I miss anything. There have already been a few bends in this adventure - mammogram to biopsy to diagnosis to lumpectomy to port insertion to chemo. Seriously not a fun one in the bunch. Pretty soon I start yet a new bend - radiation. I'm tired /bored/uninterested of/with/in this cancer thing at this point. This Friday I have an appointment with my radiation oncologist and then a radiation simulation. I start the actual radiation on Monday. Then it's six weeks of daily trips to town for a total of three hours of driving every day. While I'm not looking forward to it I know I just have to get it over with. Barring any snow days and hoping they are open the day after Thanksgiving - I should be finished on December 30th. Then I'll be finally done and the Lord willing there will be no more cancer bends to dread. I can go back to my "let's just go see what's around that bend before we turn around" explorations. And I'll never look back.

.

One good note - the snacks are better on the rads side than the chemo side of the cancer center.

I Can't Sleep

Probably my own fault for going to bed too early. I'm lying here trying to be apathetic about the day. If I start thinking about it I get either really excited (hair!) or a little teary eyed (this weekend is going to really suck). I feel like there should be a big party or something after they yank the needle out but today is just the beginning of the end. I'll wait a few weeks for the party. I do wish that the end of chemo was the end of this adventure and I could just ride away into the sunset. I know it's going to be the hardest part of my cancer fight for me physically and hope it is the hardest part mentally. I have a bunch of questions for the oncologist this morning. Mainly - when can I start radiation, when can I have this stinkin port taken out, and when should I start taking Tamoxifen. I'm not even sure which doctor I'll be seeing in the long run. It's five in the morning out here and I can hear Dad out there starting a woodstove fire this morning. I know my parents are looking forward to the end of chemo as much as I am. Other than that first horrible weekend they have been here right next to me during the worst of it seeing me at my worst and maybe a little bit of me at my best. It could not have been easy for them and I appreciate it more than I could ever express. And thanks to all of you for all the uplifting emails and cards and prayers sent my way. Seriously this journey would be so so much harder without all of you with me. I hope I can make it up to all of you someday. Guess I should get up and give Dad some company. I do love a good fire. I hope all of you have a great day.

Choices

Being diagnosed with cancer brings all sorts of choices into your life.

.

The first choices are what to do for "treatment". I guess one choice would be to do nothing. Or another would be to avoid mainstream doctors and do non-traditional treatments. Or do both conventional and holistic treatments. One thing you learn fast as you try to choose what to do is that there are very few "if then" statements in cancer "treatment". It would be great if a doctor could say "if you do this then you will be OK" instead you get a lot of "if maybe then" statements "if you do chemo, maybe then you will be OK". I've been reading a couple of the breast cancer message boards since I was diagnosed and women really agonize over their treatment choices. Once you hear the words "it's cancerous" your choices are many and all of them suck.

.

Once you decide to go with mainstream treatments, your first choice is what type of surgery you want, lumpectomy or mastectomy. With a lumpectomy comes radiation also. My doctor told me that my survival rate with both is about the same. I'm not a big fan of hospitals or doctors or pain so I naturally leaned towards the lumpectomy choice. It is less invasive with no extra reconstruction surgeries needed. I also was pretty sure it would be cheaper which when your life is on the line seems like a stupid reason to not do something but I'm guessing money plays a big role in a large percent of treatment decisions in the US. Christina Applegate on the other hand chose to have a double mastectomy based on her family history and results of DNA tests she took. I'm sure many other things went into her decision also that she hasn't shared with the general public. Now did either of us make the right choice for ourselves? We will never know. Even if we have a recurrence or if we don't have a recurrence, who is to say it would or wouldn't have happened anyway.

.

Now if the cancer is caught early, there is no sign of it having spread, and test results come back favorably then the surgery / radiation choice might be about it for treatment decisions. Then there are all sorts of post cancer lifestyle decisions to make but that's a whole other topic. Hopefully I'll get to that point and we can all have a discussion about my aversion to veggies.

.

But for me and for many like me, we are given the choice of undergoing chemo. While in the end this wasn't a hard choice for me, it was an agonizing choice. The list of possible side effects to chemo is really really long and has nothing good on it. In fact when you start chemo they have you sign a release that has the line "I understand that it is not possible to anticipate all side effects." It then goes on to a list of the worst side effects it can cause up to and including death. It also says "I understand that no guarantee or assurance has been made as to the results of chemotherapy and that it may not cure, control or improve this condition". So, not only can the treatment kill me, it might not even help me with the cancer thing at all. What kind of choice is that? Angel Nurse Nancy told me before the first meeting with my oncologist that he would be giving me a rate of survival percentage if I do chemo. She said that I needed to decide at what percent I would or would not do the treatment. Well, when you haven't had chemo before and have only heard about how hard it is plus knowing it might not help at all, it's hard to make that decision. I tried to decide at what percent I would not do chemo. 20%, 15%, 10%, 1%, .1%? It's your life you are deciding upon. Well, I love my life (but really so does everyone else so I'm not saying if you chose not to do chemo that you don't love your life but that's how I saw it for my decision) and I having not been in chemo before I couldn't imagine it would be worse than dying so I made the personal choice that unless he said chemo would not help me at all I was going to do it. Well, my percent came out at around 10%. If I was to undergo chemo treatments my odds of having the cancer return would be cut by 10%. That number seemed huge to me - of course I would take 12 weeks of chemo over increasing my chances of a recurrence by 10%. But that was me. For the pain, cost, time, and all the other bad things with it 10% might seem like a small percent to others in my position. Now that I am half (!!!) way through chemo would I make the same choice? You Betcha!! Six weeks from now or if the cancer does come back, will I still say that? I don't know. I've read about many many women who have had a higher percent than that and not do chemo and I've read about many many women who have had lower percents and did do chemo. Once again will any of us ever know if we made the right decision? Nope.

.

Is any decision that we truly believe is right for us the right one? Yep, I believe that is true. I though have been (I hate to use the word lucky or blessed when it comes to my cancer so I just say) I have had it better than some women in that my decisions have been pretty clear cut to me so I haven't spent much time second guessing my choices and if I stay healthy I won't ever have to but so many cancer patients out there have many more gray areas in the treatment choices. I would think it would be very hard to not sometimes think "maybe I should have...........". Once again when it's a choice that has to potential to be life or death - yikes - no one wants to be in that position.

.

One "if then" statement I have heard from a doctor is "if you get chemotherapy, then you will lose your hair". Yep - as you can see by the picture I've lost my hair. Another choice that is discussed on the message boards is how to deal with this. It seems like wearing wigs or scarves has been the first choice of many. I've seen many women - especially the younger ones - go with my choice though, just going around bald. I just hate having things on my head but I hate looking like this. In the end I went for comfort instead of vanity. Most of the time when I am out around strangers I have worn a scarf or hat but today I just went to town au naturel. Heck it's Breast Cancer Awareness Month and what says breast cancer better then a pink ribbon? Yep - a bald "cancer girl" walking around. I'll scare women into doing self exams or getting a mammogram. Pink ribbons make breast cancer seem pretty and feminine - I've learned it is more like putrid green, pain, and swelling. So, I'm just a walking public service announcement for early detection. Side note and another possible blog topic - why is there so much focus on early detection and a cure but hardly even talk of prevention?

.

There is one choice I have to make daily though - it's a hard one and it's a very important one that effects my entire life. When I first wake up cancer is not the first thing I think of - I usually have a few seconds of being my old "normal" self. When I do remember it still takes my breath away and not in a good way. I think if I was standing up when I remember, it would take me to my knees. It's that unnatural and disturbing to me, it still deosn't seem real. Right then when it hits I have to make the daily choice. How am I going to handle having cancer today? I could crawl up in bed and not leave it and be all "woe is me". I could be angry / anguished and all "why me?" and take it out on all those around me. I could try to ignore it and shut down, not letting anyone in or showing any emotion. I could be full of dispair and think that I am going to die from cancer. Or I could chose to live life as fully as I can within the physical restraints I have right now; laughing as much as I can, not letting the little things get to me, enjoying the people around me, being thankful for the support I am getting, smiling at my bald self when I catch a glimpse in a mirror, loving my dog, enjoying the sound of the wind through the trees, chasing the ravens out of my yard, having some steaky goodness, reading good books, and just trying really hard to find the positive in the situation I find myself in. OK - so it's not really that hard of a decision for me but I can see how others in a similar physical situation but in a different life situation would choose one of the other choices. Who knows as I get further into my new life with cancer I might pick another view on my day / life and that would be OK but I hope I don't.

.

We all make the choices that we think are right for us and we hope we get the chance to live with them.

.

PS - one more item for my "Thank You For" list. Thank you for making fun of my baldness (Charliiieeee). I appreciate everyone who says I look good bald. I know though that you are just trying to be nice. Which is nice but I know better and it was great to have someone finally tease me about it. It's the little things...........

.

PS again - I just got fabulous news! I hear there's going to be a new baby in the family! WooHoo. I am so so so happy for you two! Now my hair will have to grown back. It's bad enough I scare stranger's kids with my Uncle Fester look, I can't be scaring my cousin's child. Yet another way that Life is Great!