I'll make this short and sweet: I had a mammogram and I have a lump. I'm scheduled for a biopsy this week Friday. The radiologist and my oncologist have both seen my mammogram and said get it biopsied. I just had a phone call from my family doctor who was sent a copy of the mammogram and was making sure I was informed that there's a lump and I should get it biopsied - you know, because I just wasn't freaking out enough.
This is all I know and I will update as soon as I get my biopsy result back.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Can't Complain - No, Really!
I am just terrible at keeping this thing updated. I'd love to say that I haven't been updating it because I've just been too darn busy, but that ain't it. Things here have settled into a comfortable hum. As I was thinking about what to write, I realized at this time I have nothing to complain about.
My son is sick, but it's just a virus. Don't get me wrong, I feel sorry for him and wish I could make it better and all that, but he's been home three days this week! I'd gotten used to having a little alone time during the day, but last week there was no work for Tom and no school for the kids because of snow. This was the week I was supposed to get back on my normal schedule, but I can't because these people won't leave the house! I have things to do! Granted I won't do them, but I feel less guilty about not doing them when I'm alone.
Cancer update: Nothing new to report.
Hair update: Growing back and is to the point where I can almost put it in a ponytail. I think I read on some of my survivor sisters' blogs that the hair reaching ponytail stage is quite a milestone - indeed it is, my friends. Indeed it is. (See attached posted picture)
Chemo brain update: Much better!
Mood: Meh. I have ups and downs, but definitely more ups than downs now.
And that's it. All is swell for the time being. Should things change, you'll be one of the firsts to know. Writing about your problems is very soothing. I highly recommend it.
Peace out, yo!
My son is sick, but it's just a virus. Don't get me wrong, I feel sorry for him and wish I could make it better and all that, but he's been home three days this week! I'd gotten used to having a little alone time during the day, but last week there was no work for Tom and no school for the kids because of snow. This was the week I was supposed to get back on my normal schedule, but I can't because these people won't leave the house! I have things to do! Granted I won't do them, but I feel less guilty about not doing them when I'm alone.
Cancer update: Nothing new to report.
Hair update: Growing back and is to the point where I can almost put it in a ponytail. I think I read on some of my survivor sisters' blogs that the hair reaching ponytail stage is quite a milestone - indeed it is, my friends. Indeed it is. (See attached posted picture)
Chemo brain update: Much better!
Mood: Meh. I have ups and downs, but definitely more ups than downs now.
And that's it. All is swell for the time being. Should things change, you'll be one of the firsts to know. Writing about your problems is very soothing. I highly recommend it.
Peace out, yo!
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Two Years
Chemo brain erased a lot of my memories, but that first discovery will never disappear. I remember the day I got married; being told I was pregnant with Allison; the birth of my children; and being told that lump that was nothing was actually cancer. It will be two years ago next month that they found the nothing cancer lump.
It's funny how vivid that memory is of going to the doctor's office after receiving that phone call. At one point there were three nurses, the doctor, plus Tom and me all in the little patient room all at once. It felt like everyone was talking to me at once except Tom. Anyone who knows Tom knows that he has an opinion on most anything and he's not shy about telling it. If you tell him something he didn't know, he'll happily look it up on the internet and confirm what he was told and also to become more knowledgeable about said subject. He's a smart guy and I depend on him to keep a clear head and know stuff that I have never had any interest in.
Sitting in that room with Tom, it wasn't hard to not remember that his mother had died of breast cancer only a few years before. I knew he had to be thinking about it and I knew he had to be knowledgeable on everything and anything breast cancer related. Heck, in my mind, I figured he knew more than the doctor. So, while I was sitting there hysterically crying and hearing words like mastectomy, radiation, and chemotherapy - I was also waiting for Tom to speak up and say they were wrong. Seriously. Especially when the word chemotherapy was thrown around - I KNEW Tom was going to say no way!
If you've never read my entire blog (shame, shame, shame on you!) you'll remember that they originally told me the lump they found was only 7 millimeters big. I hate the metric system; I'm really not sure how big that is either, but they tell me it's small, ok? So, I was thinking to myself that, well, first they got my chart mixed up with someone else, and secondly that I was NOT going to have to go through chemo for something that tiny. If nothing else Tom wouldn't stand for it. But there he sat quietly. Tom was quiet. I know a lot of you who read this do not know Tom, but trust me when I tell you that the man doesn't stay quiet. Tom can have a two hour conversation with a mailbox - especially if that mailbox was a non-believing liberal politician (God, help it.)
As we were leaving the doctor's office, I was quite peeved with everyone...especially Tom! How dare he let them talk about doing those horrible things to me! Of course I was still crying and I asked him why; why didn't he speak up for me? It was simple he said: Lou (his mother) died of metastatic breast cancer. And then he said what I didn't know: she refused chemotherapy after her right breast was removed. He will always wonder if just going through the hell of chemotherapy would have saved her life. Any option and treatment they had for me, he wanted me to have. It was truly a matter of life and death.
Almost two years ago my friend Paul reached out to everybody I'd ever met in my entire life and begged them to pray for me. His sister Mary Beth, who lives in California, told everyone she's ever met in her entire life to pray for me. My best friend Julie cried with me. My brother called me (trust me that's a big deal!); my aunts and uncles sent gift cards for food; my cousins sent me gifts and took me out shopping; my Dad came and lived with me for months while I suffered through chemo; my church sent wonderful meals; and my mother directed everyone she knew (and probably didn't know) to my blog, and let me know how proud she was of me for being so strong. I think everyone I ever went to school with and worked with sent encouraging emails (shout out to Aaron, Ronnie, Kiva, Jim and Amy.)
I could go on forever thanking people for their gifts and prayers. Two years ago I got the worst news of my life. Two years ago I found out how many people in this world love me and it leaves me in awe.
It's funny how vivid that memory is of going to the doctor's office after receiving that phone call. At one point there were three nurses, the doctor, plus Tom and me all in the little patient room all at once. It felt like everyone was talking to me at once except Tom. Anyone who knows Tom knows that he has an opinion on most anything and he's not shy about telling it. If you tell him something he didn't know, he'll happily look it up on the internet and confirm what he was told and also to become more knowledgeable about said subject. He's a smart guy and I depend on him to keep a clear head and know stuff that I have never had any interest in.
Sitting in that room with Tom, it wasn't hard to not remember that his mother had died of breast cancer only a few years before. I knew he had to be thinking about it and I knew he had to be knowledgeable on everything and anything breast cancer related. Heck, in my mind, I figured he knew more than the doctor. So, while I was sitting there hysterically crying and hearing words like mastectomy, radiation, and chemotherapy - I was also waiting for Tom to speak up and say they were wrong. Seriously. Especially when the word chemotherapy was thrown around - I KNEW Tom was going to say no way!
If you've never read my entire blog (shame, shame, shame on you!) you'll remember that they originally told me the lump they found was only 7 millimeters big. I hate the metric system; I'm really not sure how big that is either, but they tell me it's small, ok? So, I was thinking to myself that, well, first they got my chart mixed up with someone else, and secondly that I was NOT going to have to go through chemo for something that tiny. If nothing else Tom wouldn't stand for it. But there he sat quietly. Tom was quiet. I know a lot of you who read this do not know Tom, but trust me when I tell you that the man doesn't stay quiet. Tom can have a two hour conversation with a mailbox - especially if that mailbox was a non-believing liberal politician (God, help it.)
As we were leaving the doctor's office, I was quite peeved with everyone...especially Tom! How dare he let them talk about doing those horrible things to me! Of course I was still crying and I asked him why; why didn't he speak up for me? It was simple he said: Lou (his mother) died of metastatic breast cancer. And then he said what I didn't know: she refused chemotherapy after her right breast was removed. He will always wonder if just going through the hell of chemotherapy would have saved her life. Any option and treatment they had for me, he wanted me to have. It was truly a matter of life and death.
Almost two years ago my friend Paul reached out to everybody I'd ever met in my entire life and begged them to pray for me. His sister Mary Beth, who lives in California, told everyone she's ever met in her entire life to pray for me. My best friend Julie cried with me. My brother called me (trust me that's a big deal!); my aunts and uncles sent gift cards for food; my cousins sent me gifts and took me out shopping; my Dad came and lived with me for months while I suffered through chemo; my church sent wonderful meals; and my mother directed everyone she knew (and probably didn't know) to my blog, and let me know how proud she was of me for being so strong. I think everyone I ever went to school with and worked with sent encouraging emails (shout out to Aaron, Ronnie, Kiva, Jim and Amy.)
I could go on forever thanking people for their gifts and prayers. Two years ago I got the worst news of my life. Two years ago I found out how many people in this world love me and it leaves me in awe.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Sleepy Girl in Kansas City Gets a Mammogram
It's the middle of the night and I've been up watching TV and eating. I can't sleep anymore. It's gotten so bad that I don't know what to do. Ok, I know what to do - go see a doctor. You know what the doctor will do though, right? He'll give me more drugs to help me sleep. Oh, I think I'm on enough different medications and I don't need any more. Besides, most of the sleep aids make me sluggish the next day. I am to the point now where I envy people who can crawl in bed and fall asleep all on their own.
I know the title of my blog is Nothing To Worry About, but I spend a great deal of time worrying. About everything. There is a good chance this is what's keeping me awake at night. How do people shut off their mind and just fall asleep? This insomnia is killing me. I want one night that I go to sleep and I don't wake up again until morning.
Anyway, since I can't sleep I thought it was time I updated this (and I plan to keep it updated from here on out. We'll see how that goes.) On the cancer front: I am seeing my oncologist every three months now and so far all has gone well. I do have a lump in my right breast that they are keeping an eye on, but two mammograms have shown that it isn't growing, so they don't believe it's anything serious. They will continue to give me a mammogram every 6 months though, just in case.
Story time! This involves my last mammogram:
My oncologist makes all these appointments for me way far in advance - like three months! And I always mean to program those dates into my phone (cause you see I have one of those nifty iPhones that can do everything except drive a car.) The phone is unable to notify you if you always forget to add your appointments into the calendar. Because of this major phone malfunction, I miss a lot of appointments. Stupid phone. So I missed my scheduled mammogram and I needed to have one done before seeing Dr Young a few weeks ago. With a lot of begging and pleading, I was able to get a last minute appointment.
When I arrived, I ended up getting the same mammogram technician who did my very first mammogram. Talk about your major flashbacks! She didn't remember me. I tried to remind her who I was, too. I explained how I was there almost two years ago and she put my boobs in this machine and squeezed them - and yet not a spark of recognition from her.
We did get talking about all that I had gone through the last couple of years. Of course, she noticed the scars on my breasts and told me, as everyone who sees them tells me, that they look fantastic. I tell her thank you and said I was sure she had lovely breasts also - because, you know, I'm polite like that. It's at this point that she tells me that the sonogram giver tech girl (that is her official title) also had breast cancer and a double mastectomy. She had the same reconstruction surgery as me, too. That was kind of neat. I have never met anyone in real life who had the same surgery as me.
After getting my boobs squeezed in the machine, I had to wait while the radiologist reviewed the films to make sure I didn't need a do-over. As I was waiting, they brought over sonogram giver tech girl and we started talking about all we went through. She didn't have the same plastic surgeon as I, but hers was out of the same office. She asked me how many surgeries I had to have to get my breasts looking so nice and I told her I only had the one. She was a bit taken back. Seems sonogram giver tech girl had already had three surgeries and was waiting for her 4th.
Of course I tried to be subtle and gazed at the area where her breasts were. Oh my! I think that's what I thought. Her breasts were closer to under her arms instead the in front of her chest and seemed lower than they should have been. She busted me looking and told me that the next surgery was going to be getting the breasts more centered.
She was just another reminder of how blessed I am. I had one surgery; got great breasts and I'm done. I didn't give it much thought, but I guess I figured that's how it went for everyone. Silly me. I, of all people, should know that if it can go wrong...it will.
Almost two years ago I started this blog. It feels like that was forever ago. I'm back to almost 100%. I want to thank everyone for all their prayers and help as I went through this. And I'll wrap this up by reminding everyone that it's the end of October - which means it's the end of breast cancer awareness month. If you haven't already... GET A MAMMOGRAM!
I know the title of my blog is Nothing To Worry About, but I spend a great deal of time worrying. About everything. There is a good chance this is what's keeping me awake at night. How do people shut off their mind and just fall asleep? This insomnia is killing me. I want one night that I go to sleep and I don't wake up again until morning.
Anyway, since I can't sleep I thought it was time I updated this (and I plan to keep it updated from here on out. We'll see how that goes.) On the cancer front: I am seeing my oncologist every three months now and so far all has gone well. I do have a lump in my right breast that they are keeping an eye on, but two mammograms have shown that it isn't growing, so they don't believe it's anything serious. They will continue to give me a mammogram every 6 months though, just in case.
Story time! This involves my last mammogram:
My oncologist makes all these appointments for me way far in advance - like three months! And I always mean to program those dates into my phone (cause you see I have one of those nifty iPhones that can do everything except drive a car.) The phone is unable to notify you if you always forget to add your appointments into the calendar. Because of this major phone malfunction, I miss a lot of appointments. Stupid phone. So I missed my scheduled mammogram and I needed to have one done before seeing Dr Young a few weeks ago. With a lot of begging and pleading, I was able to get a last minute appointment.
When I arrived, I ended up getting the same mammogram technician who did my very first mammogram. Talk about your major flashbacks! She didn't remember me. I tried to remind her who I was, too. I explained how I was there almost two years ago and she put my boobs in this machine and squeezed them - and yet not a spark of recognition from her.
We did get talking about all that I had gone through the last couple of years. Of course, she noticed the scars on my breasts and told me, as everyone who sees them tells me, that they look fantastic. I tell her thank you and said I was sure she had lovely breasts also - because, you know, I'm polite like that. It's at this point that she tells me that the sonogram giver tech girl (that is her official title) also had breast cancer and a double mastectomy. She had the same reconstruction surgery as me, too. That was kind of neat. I have never met anyone in real life who had the same surgery as me.
After getting my boobs squeezed in the machine, I had to wait while the radiologist reviewed the films to make sure I didn't need a do-over. As I was waiting, they brought over sonogram giver tech girl and we started talking about all we went through. She didn't have the same plastic surgeon as I, but hers was out of the same office. She asked me how many surgeries I had to have to get my breasts looking so nice and I told her I only had the one. She was a bit taken back. Seems sonogram giver tech girl had already had three surgeries and was waiting for her 4th.
Of course I tried to be subtle and gazed at the area where her breasts were. Oh my! I think that's what I thought. Her breasts were closer to under her arms instead the in front of her chest and seemed lower than they should have been. She busted me looking and told me that the next surgery was going to be getting the breasts more centered.
She was just another reminder of how blessed I am. I had one surgery; got great breasts and I'm done. I didn't give it much thought, but I guess I figured that's how it went for everyone. Silly me. I, of all people, should know that if it can go wrong...it will.
Almost two years ago I started this blog. It feels like that was forever ago. I'm back to almost 100%. I want to thank everyone for all their prayers and help as I went through this. And I'll wrap this up by reminding everyone that it's the end of October - which means it's the end of breast cancer awareness month. If you haven't already... GET A MAMMOGRAM!
Monday, February 8, 2010
The Family That Sits Together Stays Together
There is very little to report, but it's been so long since I updated this, I decided I'd go ahead and write about the little things that have happened lately.
Instead of writing about finally hitting bottom on the depression scale and Tom, my dad and my doctor deciding perhaps a short stint in a happy hospital would be in order - I'll tell you about my furniture shopping experience that happened recently. (Don't worry, I'm working on the other thing.)
I've been very unhappy with my living room furniture for sometime now. With my horrible dust mite allergies, I can only have leather furniture. So, what I have is a brown leather couch and I HAD two black leather recliners. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but something in one of the recliners snapped. When you would sit in the chair your feet would pop up off the floor and you'd go backwards - not falling all the way over - but just enough that you felt like a turtle that has flipped over on his back. You're sitting there kicking your feet and waving your arms like you're swimming and praying the back of your head doesn't hit the floor behind you.
Needless to say, we had to cut that chair loose and we got a new one. A brown recliner. I THOUGHT it was the same color brown as the couch. It was not. So...I now have three pieces of leather furniture in my living room and none of them match. This displeases me greatly. Yeah, yeah, yeah, there are starving children in Morocco who would kill to have non matching leather furniture. Go ahead and say it... you think I'm spoiled. Well, I am not! It's time for new furniture! Remember what happened to the one black recliner? It has now happened to the other one. I don't want to put up a sign that says: sit here at your own risk!
I tell Tom I want a leather sectional - it will be perfect for the family room and it's more seating. Tom, being a man, can't see why I would want new furniture, but he begrudgingly agrees. Besides I explained - a sectional will bring the family closer. What? It can too!
We decide to do our furniture shopping on a day the kids are in school, so we don't have to listen to them whine. We picked last Friday and Tom schedules that day off from work. A good mom would have known that last Friday was a teacher in service day. I am not a good mom. Ok, kids will go with us. We wake up Friday morning to see a most lovely snow storm starting. I don't care! I'm going to buy my sectional! No kids or giant snow storm will get in my way! And off we go. The first store I find the one I want. Yayyy! Tom, though, says no - we should price shop. Drat.
Fine! Back out into the snow storm we go and we hit every furniture store we could find (two were closed due to the storm.) Night comes and I still haven't found a sectional I liked better than the first one. Ok, Tom says tomorrow we go back and get it. Yayyy! Saturday morning and everyone and their great grandmother are furniture shopping. Crowds make me VERY grumpy. Back to the first store we went to yesterday and Tom starts bartering the price and gets them down one hundred dollars. Yay! No. There was another one that looked a lot like the one at the first store but it was cheaper somewhere else. We need to go back to that store AND hit the stores that were closed due to snow storm the day before.
The kids and I are tired, cranky and we LOVE the first sectional! Fine, says Tom. And we head back to the first store (for the third time) to finally buy our sectional. We sit in it. I'm smiling as are the kids when Tom says the following words: "I think it's too big and it won't fit in the family room." Talking through clinched teeth I explain that it will fit.
"We'll go home and measure and if it will fit, I'll come back and buy it - you won't even have to come with me" begs Tom.
"NO, NO, NO" STOMPS FEET "IT WILL FIT BUY IT NOW" I casually request.
We went back and forth like this until the salesperson was nice and uncomfortable. I finally agree and we go home to measure.
I'm not going to tell you how it ends, because I hate that Tom was right. Also, I'm no longer speaking to him. He seems ok with this.
Instead of writing about finally hitting bottom on the depression scale and Tom, my dad and my doctor deciding perhaps a short stint in a happy hospital would be in order - I'll tell you about my furniture shopping experience that happened recently. (Don't worry, I'm working on the other thing.)
I've been very unhappy with my living room furniture for sometime now. With my horrible dust mite allergies, I can only have leather furniture. So, what I have is a brown leather couch and I HAD two black leather recliners. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but something in one of the recliners snapped. When you would sit in the chair your feet would pop up off the floor and you'd go backwards - not falling all the way over - but just enough that you felt like a turtle that has flipped over on his back. You're sitting there kicking your feet and waving your arms like you're swimming and praying the back of your head doesn't hit the floor behind you.
Needless to say, we had to cut that chair loose and we got a new one. A brown recliner. I THOUGHT it was the same color brown as the couch. It was not. So...I now have three pieces of leather furniture in my living room and none of them match. This displeases me greatly. Yeah, yeah, yeah, there are starving children in Morocco who would kill to have non matching leather furniture. Go ahead and say it... you think I'm spoiled. Well, I am not! It's time for new furniture! Remember what happened to the one black recliner? It has now happened to the other one. I don't want to put up a sign that says: sit here at your own risk!
I tell Tom I want a leather sectional - it will be perfect for the family room and it's more seating. Tom, being a man, can't see why I would want new furniture, but he begrudgingly agrees. Besides I explained - a sectional will bring the family closer. What? It can too!
We decide to do our furniture shopping on a day the kids are in school, so we don't have to listen to them whine. We picked last Friday and Tom schedules that day off from work. A good mom would have known that last Friday was a teacher in service day. I am not a good mom. Ok, kids will go with us. We wake up Friday morning to see a most lovely snow storm starting. I don't care! I'm going to buy my sectional! No kids or giant snow storm will get in my way! And off we go. The first store I find the one I want. Yayyy! Tom, though, says no - we should price shop. Drat.
Fine! Back out into the snow storm we go and we hit every furniture store we could find (two were closed due to the storm.) Night comes and I still haven't found a sectional I liked better than the first one. Ok, Tom says tomorrow we go back and get it. Yayyy! Saturday morning and everyone and their great grandmother are furniture shopping. Crowds make me VERY grumpy. Back to the first store we went to yesterday and Tom starts bartering the price and gets them down one hundred dollars. Yay! No. There was another one that looked a lot like the one at the first store but it was cheaper somewhere else. We need to go back to that store AND hit the stores that were closed due to snow storm the day before.
The kids and I are tired, cranky and we LOVE the first sectional! Fine, says Tom. And we head back to the first store (for the third time) to finally buy our sectional. We sit in it. I'm smiling as are the kids when Tom says the following words: "I think it's too big and it won't fit in the family room." Talking through clinched teeth I explain that it will fit.
"We'll go home and measure and if it will fit, I'll come back and buy it - you won't even have to come with me" begs Tom.
"NO, NO, NO" STOMPS FEET "IT WILL FIT BUY IT NOW" I casually request.
We went back and forth like this until the salesperson was nice and uncomfortable. I finally agree and we go home to measure.
I'm not going to tell you how it ends, because I hate that Tom was right. Also, I'm no longer speaking to him. He seems ok with this.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
A New Year
2010 has got to be a better year than 2009. I'd rather not live through another year like the one I've just gone through. I've heard about women who have battled cancer for YEARS! Not just one year like I have, but more than one - you know, like two years! Or more!
There is one woman whose blog I follow - she's going to be receiving chemo treatments for the rest of her life. It's hard for me to wrap my mind around that. How do you wake up in the morning knowing there is no end to having poison pumped into your body? I can tell you how: you just do. She's been called "amazing" and "strong" and "an inspiration," but like me what she really is is a mom. There are days you wake up and think: That's it! I don't think I can do this anymore! But you remember all the people who love you and you love back. And you try very hard not to imagine a world in which your children grow up without a mother...but sometimes you do think about it and it makes you stronger; it gets you out of bed. Your determination grows and you know you're going to kick some cancer butt (for me that lasts about 15 minutes then I start whining again.)
It's funny what chemo will do to your brain. When I say funny, I don't mean "ha ha" funny either. I mean funny in a sense of "give me a second, I'm having a hard time even remembering my name right now". Today I heard my children having this conversation:
Jacob: Do you remember the day we had to dress up at school as the person we wanted to be when we grew up?
Allison: Yeah, I dressed up as a teacher. I wore boots, a turtleneck shirt and blue jeans.
Jacob: That's how teachers dress?
Allison: Yes! Duh!
I didn't say anything even though I was thinking: That's how teachers dress? But mostly I was thinking how I had absolutely no memory of this dress-up day for them. I was hoping my daughter would ask my son what he dressed up as - I was too ashamed to tell them I didn't remember this day. And then I thought back on all the special moments I should have remembered this past year: my son's birthday in April; my daughter's birthday in July; valentine's day; Easter; MY birthday... all of it is blank. All of it! I'm sure Tom or my dad or maybe even I took pictures. I'm going to go find those pictures and stare in amazement that I was part of those days.
If I was.
I don't really know.
The point is: cancer stripped a year of my life as a mother from me. I was too sick to help out in the raising of my children, and the things that I might have actually done, I don't remember. This was one year for me. One. The number one doesn't sound like much, but when it comes to the life of my sweet children - being robbed of one is painful. I pray my nightmare journey with cancer is over - if it is not, I will do this coming year exactly what I did last year...survive anyway I have to. I'm a mom - it's what we do.
There is one woman whose blog I follow - she's going to be receiving chemo treatments for the rest of her life. It's hard for me to wrap my mind around that. How do you wake up in the morning knowing there is no end to having poison pumped into your body? I can tell you how: you just do. She's been called "amazing" and "strong" and "an inspiration," but like me what she really is is a mom. There are days you wake up and think: That's it! I don't think I can do this anymore! But you remember all the people who love you and you love back. And you try very hard not to imagine a world in which your children grow up without a mother...but sometimes you do think about it and it makes you stronger; it gets you out of bed. Your determination grows and you know you're going to kick some cancer butt (for me that lasts about 15 minutes then I start whining again.)
It's funny what chemo will do to your brain. When I say funny, I don't mean "ha ha" funny either. I mean funny in a sense of "give me a second, I'm having a hard time even remembering my name right now". Today I heard my children having this conversation:
Jacob: Do you remember the day we had to dress up at school as the person we wanted to be when we grew up?
Allison: Yeah, I dressed up as a teacher. I wore boots, a turtleneck shirt and blue jeans.
Jacob: That's how teachers dress?
Allison: Yes! Duh!
I didn't say anything even though I was thinking: That's how teachers dress? But mostly I was thinking how I had absolutely no memory of this dress-up day for them. I was hoping my daughter would ask my son what he dressed up as - I was too ashamed to tell them I didn't remember this day. And then I thought back on all the special moments I should have remembered this past year: my son's birthday in April; my daughter's birthday in July; valentine's day; Easter; MY birthday... all of it is blank. All of it! I'm sure Tom or my dad or maybe even I took pictures. I'm going to go find those pictures and stare in amazement that I was part of those days.
If I was.
I don't really know.
The point is: cancer stripped a year of my life as a mother from me. I was too sick to help out in the raising of my children, and the things that I might have actually done, I don't remember. This was one year for me. One. The number one doesn't sound like much, but when it comes to the life of my sweet children - being robbed of one is painful. I pray my nightmare journey with cancer is over - if it is not, I will do this coming year exactly what I did last year...survive anyway I have to. I'm a mom - it's what we do.
Monday, November 30, 2009
A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Recovering...
You know how it is when you have a favorite pair of jeans (or shirt; or hat; or scarf; or husband) and the time comes to replace them? You can never find the comfort of the original again, right? That's kinda what I'm feeling about my blogs at the moment. I can't get a good comfortable feeling with my new blog. So, I'm back here! Yay!
Most people who have followed me on here have kept up with my up and down struggles (more downs than ups) every step of the way. I'm going to have to skip a huge chunk because tonight's story is *drum roll please* a butt story!! This happened today, so I'll tell it while it's fresh (teehee a fresh butt story) and then backtrack to how I got here in following posts. Everyone understand? Even if you understand only a little, I'm good with that since I'm on high doses of pain meds.
We need to slip back a few days to the day before Thanksgiving: Wed Nov. 25. This is the date of my latest surgery. A major, humdinger of a surgery. Since part of the operation was on my abdomen, I ended up in ICU for a couple days attached to continuous flowing pain medication. I also had a nifty morphine pump. And they were giving me Vicodin pills. Oh, there was also the Fentanyl injected into my IV anytime I was coherent enough to find the nurse call button and utter the word "pain".
Saturday afternoon I'm released from the hospital with a giant pain medicine prescription and three gross drain tubes coming out of my stomach area. These are the same type drains I had after my mastectomy. I hated them then, and you'll be pleased to note, I hate them maybe more now. Basically they keep your operated on site from swelling up by sucking out the liquid. At first it's a bright pink and as time goes on, the liquid is less pink and more just a nasty yellowish color which is almost where I was first thing this morning.
Now we're at this morning... Massive amounts of pain medications have been poured into my body because of a stomach surgery. More drugs than what they teach in medical billing classes. I've been told not to use my stomach muscles. Ask me how long it's been since I'd pooped? A week. I knew I was constipated. I knew constipated was probably bad.
I. Had. No. Idea. How. Bad.
The hospital never gave me anything to deal with the issue that was...errr.. ummm.. building up, well say. I was too out of it to even think about one day having to poop without using any stomach muscles at all. I set forth to combat the problem as best as I could - as soon as I thought about it...which was yesterday and this morning. Ahhh.. too little, too late. Or too much, too late.
I had to go! I tried to go! I sat for over an hour! AN HOUR, PEOPLE! My legs fell asleep. I thought about what my options were: call doctor's office and get suppository or worse an enema *shudders*. Nope, we must try everything else first. I mean, I know I'm not supposed to use my stomach muscles at all. I know they said no lifting, but this was an emergency! What's the worst that would happen?
The worst that could happen, it seems, is my nifty drains are now filling up with thick, dark red blood. Dr's office says sometimes this happens and it will correct its self. Watch carefully (duh) and if it doesn't improve after complete bed rest, I get to go back to the hospital.
On the upside... I'm poo free! Woo!
Sigh
Most people who have followed me on here have kept up with my up and down struggles (more downs than ups) every step of the way. I'm going to have to skip a huge chunk because tonight's story is *drum roll please* a butt story!! This happened today, so I'll tell it while it's fresh (teehee a fresh butt story) and then backtrack to how I got here in following posts. Everyone understand? Even if you understand only a little, I'm good with that since I'm on high doses of pain meds.
We need to slip back a few days to the day before Thanksgiving: Wed Nov. 25. This is the date of my latest surgery. A major, humdinger of a surgery. Since part of the operation was on my abdomen, I ended up in ICU for a couple days attached to continuous flowing pain medication. I also had a nifty morphine pump. And they were giving me Vicodin pills. Oh, there was also the Fentanyl injected into my IV anytime I was coherent enough to find the nurse call button and utter the word "pain".
Saturday afternoon I'm released from the hospital with a giant pain medicine prescription and three gross drain tubes coming out of my stomach area. These are the same type drains I had after my mastectomy. I hated them then, and you'll be pleased to note, I hate them maybe more now. Basically they keep your operated on site from swelling up by sucking out the liquid. At first it's a bright pink and as time goes on, the liquid is less pink and more just a nasty yellowish color which is almost where I was first thing this morning.
Now we're at this morning... Massive amounts of pain medications have been poured into my body because of a stomach surgery. More drugs than what they teach in medical billing classes. I've been told not to use my stomach muscles. Ask me how long it's been since I'd pooped? A week. I knew I was constipated. I knew constipated was probably bad.
I. Had. No. Idea. How. Bad.
The hospital never gave me anything to deal with the issue that was...errr.. ummm.. building up, well say. I was too out of it to even think about one day having to poop without using any stomach muscles at all. I set forth to combat the problem as best as I could - as soon as I thought about it...which was yesterday and this morning. Ahhh.. too little, too late. Or too much, too late.
I had to go! I tried to go! I sat for over an hour! AN HOUR, PEOPLE! My legs fell asleep. I thought about what my options were: call doctor's office and get suppository or worse an enema *shudders*. Nope, we must try everything else first. I mean, I know I'm not supposed to use my stomach muscles at all. I know they said no lifting, but this was an emergency! What's the worst that would happen?
The worst that could happen, it seems, is my nifty drains are now filling up with thick, dark red blood. Dr's office says sometimes this happens and it will correct its self. Watch carefully (duh) and if it doesn't improve after complete bed rest, I get to go back to the hospital.
On the upside... I'm poo free! Woo!
Sigh
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Ex Cancer Girl Gone Wild
Ok, I've set up shop and made my new blog! www.excancergirlgonewild.blogspot.com
Follow me down the road of surviving breast cancer, eating cheesecake, ignoring housework and parenting the short people that live in my house. It's like Christmas, but without the decorations or presents.
Follow me down the road of surviving breast cancer, eating cheesecake, ignoring housework and parenting the short people that live in my house. It's like Christmas, but without the decorations or presents.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Becoming Whole
This will likely be my last Nothing To Worry About blog post. I created this blog to stop the endless phone calls I was receiving from my family and friends who required daily updates on my condition. I'm so blessed to have so many people who love me, truly I am, but there was a moment that I thought to myself: "If one more person calls me today and asks how I'm feeling, I'm going to jump out the window." (First floor window, not second, because I've an extreme fear of heights.)
As for where I am today? The depression is probably my main focus. I was told I could get hit with depression, and danged if I didn't. Maybe I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall - but I can't seem to believe having breast cancer is over. While on vacation in Branson, MO last week I met a woman who is a 15 year survivor. When we started talking, I told her I have breast cancer even though I knew at the time it wasn't true. You see, I'm a breast cancer survivor, but I can't bring myself to say that. I can't put into words how scary it is to one day say those words - to believe them myself - only to find out it's not true. Just typing that made me cry.
I freakin' hate cancer! I hate it! It consumed my breasts and is consuming my life...STILL. Seven months of my life have been turned over to this monster. I remember that first day I found out - the surgeon telling me it will take me 6 - 9 months to beat this. It seemed impossible to believe. My dad watched me go through chemo and often stated his disbelief that with today's modern medicine treatments, chemo seemed almost inhumane. To my dad I say: WORD! (for the less hip folks, that means "so true.") Did you really have to almost kill me to heal me?
Now more than anything, I need energy and pain free days. I can force myself to get out of bed and be active, but the next day my legs are going to hurt. Anytime I've mentioned my legs to Dr Young, she ignores it. I'm supposed to go back for an EKG, echo thingy, chest x-ray and visit with the good doctor soon...once again I'll bring up my legs (not literally) and try to make her realize that when I say my legs hurt - I mean - My. Legs. Hurt!
And now about this here blog... I'm shuttin her down. I'll still keep a blog, but this one was strictly to follow my breast cancer journey. And that, my friends, has come to an end. I pray for an end to all cancers, but should you find yourself in contact with a person who wants/needs this journal - I want them directed my way without them wondering why I'm writing about flea and tick drops that don't seem to be working. Ya know?
There will be one more post after this one - it will give you a link to my new blog site. You won't have to go there. No pressure. I hear there might be free candy give aways though. (I purposely didn't post a story today even though I have MANY! I'm saving them for my new blog. But still, no pressure.)
As for where I am today? The depression is probably my main focus. I was told I could get hit with depression, and danged if I didn't. Maybe I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall - but I can't seem to believe having breast cancer is over. While on vacation in Branson, MO last week I met a woman who is a 15 year survivor. When we started talking, I told her I have breast cancer even though I knew at the time it wasn't true. You see, I'm a breast cancer survivor, but I can't bring myself to say that. I can't put into words how scary it is to one day say those words - to believe them myself - only to find out it's not true. Just typing that made me cry.
I freakin' hate cancer! I hate it! It consumed my breasts and is consuming my life...STILL. Seven months of my life have been turned over to this monster. I remember that first day I found out - the surgeon telling me it will take me 6 - 9 months to beat this. It seemed impossible to believe. My dad watched me go through chemo and often stated his disbelief that with today's modern medicine treatments, chemo seemed almost inhumane. To my dad I say: WORD! (for the less hip folks, that means "so true.") Did you really have to almost kill me to heal me?
Now more than anything, I need energy and pain free days. I can force myself to get out of bed and be active, but the next day my legs are going to hurt. Anytime I've mentioned my legs to Dr Young, she ignores it. I'm supposed to go back for an EKG, echo thingy, chest x-ray and visit with the good doctor soon...once again I'll bring up my legs (not literally) and try to make her realize that when I say my legs hurt - I mean - My. Legs. Hurt!
And now about this here blog... I'm shuttin her down. I'll still keep a blog, but this one was strictly to follow my breast cancer journey. And that, my friends, has come to an end. I pray for an end to all cancers, but should you find yourself in contact with a person who wants/needs this journal - I want them directed my way without them wondering why I'm writing about flea and tick drops that don't seem to be working. Ya know?
There will be one more post after this one - it will give you a link to my new blog site. You won't have to go there. No pressure. I hear there might be free candy give aways though. (I purposely didn't post a story today even though I have MANY! I'm saving them for my new blog. But still, no pressure.)
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Cancer Club
When you get cancer you join a club you never wanted to be in. I'm in the official Breast Cancer Survivor Club. Breast cancer survivors are fantastic women - and I'm not just saying that because I am one now. The crazy part? If I think about all I've been through too hard, I still get upset. This happened Saturday. We took the kids out to eat and I noticed our waitress didn't have much hair. She noticed I was wearing my lovely new hat and asked me if I had cancer. I said yes. She is a 5 year survivor (and still didn't have hair! Yeah, that messed with me!)After dinner, Tom and the kids ran off to a museum, but left me sitting to wait for them (I'm still very tired and can only do so much walking around.) Sitting there reminded me of how hard I used to try to NOT think about having cancer after I was diagnosed. Not thinking about having cancer is impossible. I never wrote about this story when it happened, because I was going through so much at the time. But Saturday I found myself sitting - waiting on my family - and getting more and more upset. Memories flooded back to me. Here's one:
I had decided that life was going to go on as normal while I waited for my surgeon to return from her trip to Africa. Between the time I was diagnosed and the time of my mastectomy all I wanted to do was crawl in bed - stay there and cry. There was no way I was going to allow my children to suffer along with me. We did as much as we could to keep busy and keep our minds off the nightmare that had begun. One of the things we did was take the kids to their school carnival. Man, that was a bad idea!
Thinking back, I'm not sure what it was that did me in that day; maybe it wasn't one specific thing. Here I was new in town and at a new school. I suddenly was missing my children's old school; I used to volunteer at their old school. At that school, I knew the layout, the teachers, the parents and the students. I missed the feeling of comfort at that school.
The kids right away ran off to be with their friends, Tom agreed to stay with Jacob, but Allison was too old to have her mom following her around. I was left alone, but I was quickly saved by one of Allison's classmates' moms. Thankfully, she knew I had cancer, but wasn't asking me to talk about it. She and I walked around the school looking in on the different booths that were set up - I was fighting the tears all day. I confided in her that I was an emotional mess and thought maybe I just needed to go home. That's when she did something very, very stupid...she left me alone. She had gone off to find Tom.
I stood alone in a hallway of an elementary school with children and their parents walking all around me - when I looked up I saw a booth that was set up to warn children about the horrors of smoking and lung cancer. That was it. That was the straw that broke my emotional back. I didn't start the delicate little crying either...oh no! I lost it. Crazy woman hysterically crying in hallway B. Clean-up, please!
The husband of the woman I had been walking with saw me almost instantly and raced off to find his wife. She came back to me and pulled me into an empty classroom. She hugged me and let me cry then told me she was going to get someone who was more suited to talk to me. Within minutes, my new friend returned and brought with her a beautiful woman who grabbed me and hugged me tightly to her for what seemed like forever. I remember thinking "wow, friendly!" She was a cancer survivor. After I pulled myself together, I was coherent enough to be properly humiliated and voiced this to her. I was told what I just did was perfectly normal. She had done it, too, but hers was at the grocery store in the dairy section.
I was able to get Tom and the kids and race outta the school. I'm actually glad now that I didn't know anyone. The idea that I might have done that at my kids' old school where their friends knew me was was not pleasant.
But here I was all these months later - breastless and hairless - and close to another meltdown. Seeing the waitress and hearing her excitement about hitting her five year mark, depressed me. Chances of a reoccurrance diminish greatly after five years. Five years suddenly seemed a lifetime away.
I'm taking this one day at a time. Unfortunately, that one day at a time finds me daily in front of the mirror checking for lump and bumps. Only four and a half years to go.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Out And About
I'm not sleeping. Some time after the sun rises in the morning, I'm hopefully able to grab a couple hours. This is really affecting my mood, too, and not in a good way. Needless to say, I'm sluggish and tired and ohhh so grumpy. If you are someone I love, you are under fire of the wrath of Sheri. I'm trying very hard remind myself that no one is doing anything wrong - I'm just a loon with out of control hormones and getting very little sleep. I've given new meaning to the term emotional basket case. I'm here now to apologize to everyone I've unfairly gotten upset with. I'm here now to apologize in the future to those I will get upset with (I'm being realistic here.)
Today I decided instead of lying around the house all day I would get out and do something fun with the kids. We finally decided we would go downtown to see the fountains and do a bit of shopping. We could have gotten out there much earlier, but I had to take a nap; a shower; put on makeup; and yell at Tom, the kids and Spike, first. We had a good time when we eventually got out there. They allow the kids to run through the fountains, but I didn't think to bring bathing suits for the kids - the kids were disappointed. After that we walked and walked and walked around the Crown Center shopping plaza. I was exhausted. I'm hoping - being as tired as I am - that I'll finally be able to sleep because I got some exercise.
I'm not sure if it's the lack of sleep or if I truly don't care anymore, but today I did something I've never done before... We found a very cool hat store while we were out. I was wearing my new long wig (and I looked smashing, thank you very much) and I decided I was going to try on hats. With people milling around, I snatched off wig - displaying my bald head for the world to see - while I hunted for a lovely new hat. I found one. The next thing I did, I'm sure was because of sleep deprivation, though... The kids were toy shopping in the Crayola Store when I got hit by a nasty hot flash; I whipped off my wig and put on my new hat in the middle of that store.
My head is looking ridiculous right now. I'm finally growing hair! Yay! But just in patchy areas. I have fluffy soft sprouts on the top of my head and not a whole lot around the sides and back. At this point, I don't care. Hair is hair.
*It was very difficult for me to concentrate to write this blog post. If you find any errors, please report your findings to menopausesucksandIdon'tcareifImessedup.com
Today I decided instead of lying around the house all day I would get out and do something fun with the kids. We finally decided we would go downtown to see the fountains and do a bit of shopping. We could have gotten out there much earlier, but I had to take a nap; a shower; put on makeup; and yell at Tom, the kids and Spike, first. We had a good time when we eventually got out there. They allow the kids to run through the fountains, but I didn't think to bring bathing suits for the kids - the kids were disappointed. After that we walked and walked and walked around the Crown Center shopping plaza. I was exhausted. I'm hoping - being as tired as I am - that I'll finally be able to sleep because I got some exercise.
I'm not sure if it's the lack of sleep or if I truly don't care anymore, but today I did something I've never done before... We found a very cool hat store while we were out. I was wearing my new long wig (and I looked smashing, thank you very much) and I decided I was going to try on hats. With people milling around, I snatched off wig - displaying my bald head for the world to see - while I hunted for a lovely new hat. I found one. The next thing I did, I'm sure was because of sleep deprivation, though... The kids were toy shopping in the Crayola Store when I got hit by a nasty hot flash; I whipped off my wig and put on my new hat in the middle of that store.
My head is looking ridiculous right now. I'm finally growing hair! Yay! But just in patchy areas. I have fluffy soft sprouts on the top of my head and not a whole lot around the sides and back. At this point, I don't care. Hair is hair.
*It was very difficult for me to concentrate to write this blog post. If you find any errors, please report your findings to menopausesucksandIdon'tcareifImessedup.com
Friday, July 3, 2009
My Blog
Over the last week or so I've started several blog posts, but finished none. Every time I would go back to reread what I wrote, I felt sure I had written it all before. But I thought I should update to let everyone know how I am doing.
I'm still having issues with my digestive system. The hot flashes are as bad as ever and I'm still tired all the time. Hey, it's not like I didn't warn you I had nothing new to blog about.
I'm having trouble sleeping. It's messing with my mood and making me insaney-er. Completely. I mean, if you see my name on your caller ID... run. Screaming. You should be safe though, since I decided to not call anyone for the last couple weeks. Or e-mail. Or leave the house. I'm just so tireddddd!
Cancer really sucks. Don't get it.
I'm still having issues with my digestive system. The hot flashes are as bad as ever and I'm still tired all the time. Hey, it's not like I didn't warn you I had nothing new to blog about.
I'm having trouble sleeping. It's messing with my mood and making me insaney-er. Completely. I mean, if you see my name on your caller ID... run. Screaming. You should be safe though, since I decided to not call anyone for the last couple weeks. Or e-mail. Or leave the house. I'm just so tireddddd!
Cancer really sucks. Don't get it.
Friday, June 19, 2009
I Heart Hair
Today was a big day: I got out of bed, took a shower, got dressed and left my house. Every other day this week has been spent either in bed or soaking my insanely achy muscles in a hot bath. I've also whined and complained. A lot. But today I had to go to the wig store and I had to get my heart checked. Get the title now?I went to the wig store to get a wig cap to wear under my wigs. I don't like wearing the wigs and am hoping that the wig cap will make them a bit more comfortable. Ok, I also bought a new wig today, too. Tom says I am an out of control impulse shopper. Just because I've got two wigs that I can't stand wearing and have only worn one out in public once, I can't get a third one? Sure, I didn't plan to buy a new wig today. Yeah, wigs are expensive. But this wig is different than my other two...it's long and the color is the color my hair used to be. When I tried this wig on I felt like myself. Long, very dark brown hair is who I am. I think another reason I don't like wearing those other two wigs is I don't look like me in them. I'm going to grow my hair out long again and it is going to take years. It will be nice to have a wig I can slip on on days that I miss my hair while I'm waiting for it to grow back out. (See how I've justified this so it is NOT looking like an out of control impulse buy?)
While I was at the wig store I met a woman who had just lost her hair because of chemo. We got to talking and she asked what kind of cancer I had and I told her my sad little sob story. And, of course, I asked about her cancer... Wow! You know how they say no matter how bad you've got it, there is always someone who is worse? I met that person today. This sweet woman has stage 4 cancer in 7 vital organs ranging from her lungs to her stomach to her liver. She has to have chemo for at least a year. So far she's only had one chemo treatment, but she's still feeling fine. She never stopped smiling. I will keep her in my prayers.
Then on to get my heart checked. Today I had an EKG and an Echo - I failed the EKG. My blood pressure was 90/70 and my heart rate was 111. After seeing these numbers, the nurse there asked if I'm tired all the time. Seriously. Hi, I'm Sheri...we've obviously not met - I do nothing but whine about being tired all the time. They said they were going to send my results to my oncologist and I sat there trying to think of a way to talk them out of doing that. Good heavens, don't tell my doctors something is wrong with me! They like to throw me in the hospital! Thankfully, not this time, though. Dr. Young isn't concerned with my sinus tachycardia (that's what I was told I have from the heart place peeps.) As long as my fever is gone, I should stay hospital free. My simple solution has been to stop taking my temperature. So far, so good...since I've stopped taking my temp, I've had no fever. Whew.
Can anyone else hear my mom saying: "Sheri Lynn, you take your temperature right now!" Aww, Mom! Do I have to?
**Pictures are of old wigs
Monday, June 15, 2009
Big Sighhhhhh.....
I woke up this morning feeling yucky. I'm finished with chemo! I'm not supposed to be getting sick anymore. When my temp hit 100.7, I decided I wasn't going to wait for the doctor to tell me what to do. I took Tylenol and THEN I called the doctor. Yep, I a rebel. My entire body aches; I have a headache, and a small dry cough. I'm not doctor, but I think it's malaria with just a touch of swine flu and a slash of mycoplasma pneumoniae.
Without even seeing me, Dr. Young disagreed with my self diagnosis. Whatever. She called me in a 'script for antibiotics.
I'm wickedly grouchy today. Malaria does that to you.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Four Oh
Today I turn forty years old. Today is also exactly four weeks since my last chemo treatment. I've decided enough is enough - no more whining! This has been the most unbelievable year of my life, and you know what sounds so weird? I'm not sure I would change a thing.
A completely real conversation that really did happen:
RC: Really, Sheri? Do you hear what you just said? You wouldn't change getting cancer again? The hell your family went through, because of your cancer. Explain yourself.
Me: Because of this cancer I created this blog which caused me to meet someone who told me to join facebook - joining facebook caused me to reconnect with YOU and many other people from my past.
RC: Nice try! Cancer can kill you and you could have missed out on watching your children grow up.
Me: But it didn't kill me. The blessings I've received you wouldn't believe. Remember my last blog post? The one in which I whined like a big ol baby?
RC: I remember. I thought about sending AS over with her new hoe to pop some sense into your head.
Me: Yeah, well, that blog got 28 comments, 37 facebook book comments/emails and 91 emails. Most of those emails were from people I don't even know. People who said they loved me and have been praying for me from the beginning. I've received messages from entire churches across the country telling me that they heard about me through my cousin's friend's sister (or however) and have sent out word for prayer from other churches in their area. People around the world have found my blog and have written to tell me they are praying for me. I truly believe hundreds of thousands of people in this world (mostly people who don't even know me) are praying for me. This is the most humbling and truly amazing thing that can ever happen to a person. I got breast cancer, but I've never felt more blessed in my life.
RC: I'm sorry I questioned you. I had no idea. You are a remarkable person and I'm honored to know you. I'm also sorry I was mean to you in elementary school. I only acted that way because you were the prettiest girl in the whole school.
This has been a year that would be impossible to forget. My last birthday should have been a sign to the kind of year I was going to have...
June 12, 2008
It started out a lovely day and the kids and I decided in the afternoon to do some shopping. We had an early lunch and by the time 5:00 rolled around we were pretty hungry. We're in a store and while we are paying for our items we hear thunder rolling outside. Not just any thunder either - the kind that sounds like it's hitting right on top of you and makes you jump out of your shorts while it rocks the building you're in. When we get to the door to leave we notice a crowd of people standing around peeping outside. We manage work our way through the people and see the most unbelievable rain coming down outside. I stood there with my mouth hanging open watching a storm that's caused the outside time to appear to be midnight rather than 5 pm.
I tell the kids we are parked really close and we are going to make a run for it. Of course that's when the hail started. And we stand there watching as the ground becomes covered with ice, so much so that you can't even see the ground anymore. Ok, we won't run for it. When the hail finally stopped, the rain was still coming down in sheets, but I told the kids we were still getting out of that store - no one else was leaving, but I refused to spend my 39th birthday trapped in a store. I grab a child's hand in each one of mine and just as we are about to set foot outside...tornado sirens.
A store manager came up and was explaining that there was a tornado on the ground in the small town about 5 miles outside of Topeka. He went on to tell us that the basement of the store was available and started leading people people to it. Oh no, there was no way. I was grabbing my kids and we were out of there!
We get in the van and I realize I forgot to find out which direction the tornado was heading. If it wasn't even heading toward Topeka, we may as well go out to eat. I turn on the radio and all I can get is station after station telling everyone in the listening area to seek cover. Well, that's not helpful. I guess that means we're going home. But we're hungry and I don't want to cook on my birthday! I tell the kids we're going to stop and grab something at first place we see on our way home. I pull into the Sonic and push the little button. Someone comes on the speaker to tell me that they aren't serving people right now, because we're under a tornado warning. Really? You're in Kansas! And if you're not going to serve people just because of tornadoes you're going to lose a lot of business!
Finally we are able to get some food at Burger King and take it home. We settle down in the basement to eat our fast food and wait for the storm to pass. The kids are getting a bit scared because the stupid sirens have been going off for almost an hour now and it does tend to get a bit nerve wracking. I flip on the TV in the basement to see if the storm is close to passing. It wasn't. Each time a huge storm cell would pass, another one would explode overhead. Tornadoes were forming everywhere and the rain was pounding.
Too much rain at our Topeka house was a bad, bad thing. I hold my breath and say a prayer as I step into the back room of the basement...still dry! As I turn to walk out, the window catches my eye. It looked weird. Upon closer inspection I notice the window well was about half full of water. Oh, God, please let the window hold! I say a pray and walk out shutting the door behind me. There was nothing I could do. The kids were crying. The rain won't stop. Tornado sirens making me crazy. Enough! It was time to call Tom. He was about 45 minutes north of Topeka on an Indian Reservation. Because the day was going along so smoothly, of course I couldn't get Tom on his cell phone. The reservation is a dead zone.
Obviously we made it through that storm unharmed, but that was just the beginning of the fun filled year I had. Blowing up a trash truck; our house selling too quickly so I only had one weekend to find a new house; my van being wrecked twice; the day we had to be out of our old house, the mortgage company calling to say they made a mistake and we couldn't close on our new house that day (the old house was packed up and the moving truck was there); and, of course, being diagnosed with cancer. What a year!
Today I'm feeling very blessed to be turning 40. I believe I'm ready for whatever God has in store for me this year. I'm certain it will be exciting.
A completely real conversation that really did happen:
RC: Really, Sheri? Do you hear what you just said? You wouldn't change getting cancer again? The hell your family went through, because of your cancer. Explain yourself.
Me: Because of this cancer I created this blog which caused me to meet someone who told me to join facebook - joining facebook caused me to reconnect with YOU and many other people from my past.
RC: Nice try! Cancer can kill you and you could have missed out on watching your children grow up.
Me: But it didn't kill me. The blessings I've received you wouldn't believe. Remember my last blog post? The one in which I whined like a big ol baby?
RC: I remember. I thought about sending AS over with her new hoe to pop some sense into your head.
Me: Yeah, well, that blog got 28 comments, 37 facebook book comments/emails and 91 emails. Most of those emails were from people I don't even know. People who said they loved me and have been praying for me from the beginning. I've received messages from entire churches across the country telling me that they heard about me through my cousin's friend's sister (or however) and have sent out word for prayer from other churches in their area. People around the world have found my blog and have written to tell me they are praying for me. I truly believe hundreds of thousands of people in this world (mostly people who don't even know me) are praying for me. This is the most humbling and truly amazing thing that can ever happen to a person. I got breast cancer, but I've never felt more blessed in my life.
RC: I'm sorry I questioned you. I had no idea. You are a remarkable person and I'm honored to know you. I'm also sorry I was mean to you in elementary school. I only acted that way because you were the prettiest girl in the whole school.
This has been a year that would be impossible to forget. My last birthday should have been a sign to the kind of year I was going to have...
June 12, 2008
It started out a lovely day and the kids and I decided in the afternoon to do some shopping. We had an early lunch and by the time 5:00 rolled around we were pretty hungry. We're in a store and while we are paying for our items we hear thunder rolling outside. Not just any thunder either - the kind that sounds like it's hitting right on top of you and makes you jump out of your shorts while it rocks the building you're in. When we get to the door to leave we notice a crowd of people standing around peeping outside. We manage work our way through the people and see the most unbelievable rain coming down outside. I stood there with my mouth hanging open watching a storm that's caused the outside time to appear to be midnight rather than 5 pm.
I tell the kids we are parked really close and we are going to make a run for it. Of course that's when the hail started. And we stand there watching as the ground becomes covered with ice, so much so that you can't even see the ground anymore. Ok, we won't run for it. When the hail finally stopped, the rain was still coming down in sheets, but I told the kids we were still getting out of that store - no one else was leaving, but I refused to spend my 39th birthday trapped in a store. I grab a child's hand in each one of mine and just as we are about to set foot outside...tornado sirens.
A store manager came up and was explaining that there was a tornado on the ground in the small town about 5 miles outside of Topeka. He went on to tell us that the basement of the store was available and started leading people people to it. Oh no, there was no way. I was grabbing my kids and we were out of there!
We get in the van and I realize I forgot to find out which direction the tornado was heading. If it wasn't even heading toward Topeka, we may as well go out to eat. I turn on the radio and all I can get is station after station telling everyone in the listening area to seek cover. Well, that's not helpful. I guess that means we're going home. But we're hungry and I don't want to cook on my birthday! I tell the kids we're going to stop and grab something at first place we see on our way home. I pull into the Sonic and push the little button. Someone comes on the speaker to tell me that they aren't serving people right now, because we're under a tornado warning. Really? You're in Kansas! And if you're not going to serve people just because of tornadoes you're going to lose a lot of business!
Finally we are able to get some food at Burger King and take it home. We settle down in the basement to eat our fast food and wait for the storm to pass. The kids are getting a bit scared because the stupid sirens have been going off for almost an hour now and it does tend to get a bit nerve wracking. I flip on the TV in the basement to see if the storm is close to passing. It wasn't. Each time a huge storm cell would pass, another one would explode overhead. Tornadoes were forming everywhere and the rain was pounding.
Too much rain at our Topeka house was a bad, bad thing. I hold my breath and say a prayer as I step into the back room of the basement...still dry! As I turn to walk out, the window catches my eye. It looked weird. Upon closer inspection I notice the window well was about half full of water. Oh, God, please let the window hold! I say a pray and walk out shutting the door behind me. There was nothing I could do. The kids were crying. The rain won't stop. Tornado sirens making me crazy. Enough! It was time to call Tom. He was about 45 minutes north of Topeka on an Indian Reservation. Because the day was going along so smoothly, of course I couldn't get Tom on his cell phone. The reservation is a dead zone.
Obviously we made it through that storm unharmed, but that was just the beginning of the fun filled year I had. Blowing up a trash truck; our house selling too quickly so I only had one weekend to find a new house; my van being wrecked twice; the day we had to be out of our old house, the mortgage company calling to say they made a mistake and we couldn't close on our new house that day (the old house was packed up and the moving truck was there); and, of course, being diagnosed with cancer. What a year!
Today I'm feeling very blessed to be turning 40. I believe I'm ready for whatever God has in store for me this year. I'm certain it will be exciting.
Monday, June 8, 2009
The End
This has been an extremely emotional last few days for me. I'm still trying to recover from my last infection which left me completely wiped out - add that to the menopause that chemo created - plus the huge decision I made this past Friday...it's a wonder I've still got any sanity left at all. Some may say I don't. At this point I won't argue.
This blog is going to be the hardest blog I've ever written. I'll start where I left off from my last post...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
I went to bed with unbelievable dread inside me. I knew when I woke up it would mean it was time to get more chemo pumped into my body. All night I tried to sleep, but couldn't. I threw a pity party and cried a little, but mostly I did absolutely nothing all night long except think about what the next week or so was going to be like. I had to remind myself that millions of people have gone through these treatments and were able to handle them and dang it, I could handle it, too! My thoughts were on my children and how much they needed me and how desperately I needed to be there for them. Just two more treatments. For Allison and Jacob. Destroy the cancer and stay alive!
Friday, June 5, 2009
The sun rose without me getting one moment of sleep. My dad had gone back to Florida and it was my mom's turn to drag the emotional wreck of a daughter to chemo. We get to the hospital early and I try to remain calm, but I feel myself falling apart. I found myself praying a lot that morning, but my mind was such a mess I wasn't sure what I was praying for. I was just so sleepy and sick and sore and wishing I was anywhere except at that hospital. How was it possible three weeks had passed since my last treatment. Another hospital stay in between treatments. The stress this was putting on Tom and the kiddos. I hated, desperately hated, my babies having to watch me go through this.
Time came finally and I got called back to the infusion room. My port was accessed, blood was taken, and I peed in the little cup. All that was left for me to do was talk to Dr Young then I would be hooked up to the IV so the poison could start flowing into my body. I have to leave the infusion room to get my quick exam done by Dr. Young. I don't have to wait long - the good doctor studies my chart and we chat for a moment about my latest hospital stay. It's at this moment that Dr. Young reminds me that I've already had four treatments - which was her original recommendation. She tells me that in those four treatments I've managed to get two pretty severe infections plus hospitalized for countless number of days. She doesn't think my body can handle much more. As of right now, none of the infections have affected any of my major organs. Let's quit the chemo now, she says.
Quit? I didn't even think about it. Yes, I told her. I was crying. I couldn't do another treatment. I was fighting the fight, and I was losing. There was no more fight left in me that day. Quit. Yes. I will quit. When I agreed to quit the treatment, I didn't think of anyone but myself - I just knew that right then and there I couldn't continue on. I also knew I didn't want to celebrate the news. Usually when you finish your chemo treatments there is a big production of ringing the bell in the infusion center. I felt defeated. I lost the fight. I didn't want to ring the bell - I didn't feel I deserved it.
The nurses cheered my news when they heard I was done. They probably thought I was crying happy tears, but I wasn't. I had to sit back down in the infusion room while they deaccessed my port. I wanted to scream that I changed my mind - that I wanted my poison. But I couldn't. What was I doing? My thoughts were so muddled at that point, I was almost hysterical screaming on the inside while trying to remain calm on the outside. What I wanted more than anything was to run back into Dr. Young's office and tell her I changed my mind. But I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't. I was ashamed that I couldn't.
Don't get me wrong...I knew what Dr. Young was saying was true. Chemo was all but destroying my body. It was getting harder and harder just to walk, because of the muscle pain it was causing me. There were many days I didn't leave my bed except to go to the bathroom. I'd read a lot about the drugs I was receiving and talked to a few people who had received the exact drugs - it seemed to me that these drugs were ravaging my body more severely than it did to others. I still sit in amazement thinking of the people who never missed a day of work while receiving the very treatment that caused me to spend half my time admitted to the hospital. But still...I had done four treatments. Two more? I couldn't do two more? For my family? I had this great life planned out ahead of me for when I finished my treatments. Six treatments of three chemotherapy drugs! That was the plan! If my cancer came back - I would know I did everything in my power the first time around. But I quit.
I can still call the doctor and tell her I changed my mind and get my next dose this week. I can't bring myself to do it though. Very few people have been told that I quit, because I can't talk about it. Most people are ready to celebrate my news. I'm just not there yet. It's almost impossible to explain exactly what I feel. But I know I don't want to hear congratulations, because right now I am sure I don't deserve that. Maybe all I need is time for this to sink in that it's finally over and I can move on to a subject that isn't cancer. There's a crazy thought. One thing is certain - this is the end of my chemo. I won't be changing my mind.
This blog is going to be the hardest blog I've ever written. I'll start where I left off from my last post...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
I went to bed with unbelievable dread inside me. I knew when I woke up it would mean it was time to get more chemo pumped into my body. All night I tried to sleep, but couldn't. I threw a pity party and cried a little, but mostly I did absolutely nothing all night long except think about what the next week or so was going to be like. I had to remind myself that millions of people have gone through these treatments and were able to handle them and dang it, I could handle it, too! My thoughts were on my children and how much they needed me and how desperately I needed to be there for them. Just two more treatments. For Allison and Jacob. Destroy the cancer and stay alive!
Friday, June 5, 2009
The sun rose without me getting one moment of sleep. My dad had gone back to Florida and it was my mom's turn to drag the emotional wreck of a daughter to chemo. We get to the hospital early and I try to remain calm, but I feel myself falling apart. I found myself praying a lot that morning, but my mind was such a mess I wasn't sure what I was praying for. I was just so sleepy and sick and sore and wishing I was anywhere except at that hospital. How was it possible three weeks had passed since my last treatment. Another hospital stay in between treatments. The stress this was putting on Tom and the kiddos. I hated, desperately hated, my babies having to watch me go through this.
Time came finally and I got called back to the infusion room. My port was accessed, blood was taken, and I peed in the little cup. All that was left for me to do was talk to Dr Young then I would be hooked up to the IV so the poison could start flowing into my body. I have to leave the infusion room to get my quick exam done by Dr. Young. I don't have to wait long - the good doctor studies my chart and we chat for a moment about my latest hospital stay. It's at this moment that Dr. Young reminds me that I've already had four treatments - which was her original recommendation. She tells me that in those four treatments I've managed to get two pretty severe infections plus hospitalized for countless number of days. She doesn't think my body can handle much more. As of right now, none of the infections have affected any of my major organs. Let's quit the chemo now, she says.
Quit? I didn't even think about it. Yes, I told her. I was crying. I couldn't do another treatment. I was fighting the fight, and I was losing. There was no more fight left in me that day. Quit. Yes. I will quit. When I agreed to quit the treatment, I didn't think of anyone but myself - I just knew that right then and there I couldn't continue on. I also knew I didn't want to celebrate the news. Usually when you finish your chemo treatments there is a big production of ringing the bell in the infusion center. I felt defeated. I lost the fight. I didn't want to ring the bell - I didn't feel I deserved it.
The nurses cheered my news when they heard I was done. They probably thought I was crying happy tears, but I wasn't. I had to sit back down in the infusion room while they deaccessed my port. I wanted to scream that I changed my mind - that I wanted my poison. But I couldn't. What was I doing? My thoughts were so muddled at that point, I was almost hysterical screaming on the inside while trying to remain calm on the outside. What I wanted more than anything was to run back into Dr. Young's office and tell her I changed my mind. But I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't. I was ashamed that I couldn't.
Don't get me wrong...I knew what Dr. Young was saying was true. Chemo was all but destroying my body. It was getting harder and harder just to walk, because of the muscle pain it was causing me. There were many days I didn't leave my bed except to go to the bathroom. I'd read a lot about the drugs I was receiving and talked to a few people who had received the exact drugs - it seemed to me that these drugs were ravaging my body more severely than it did to others. I still sit in amazement thinking of the people who never missed a day of work while receiving the very treatment that caused me to spend half my time admitted to the hospital. But still...I had done four treatments. Two more? I couldn't do two more? For my family? I had this great life planned out ahead of me for when I finished my treatments. Six treatments of three chemotherapy drugs! That was the plan! If my cancer came back - I would know I did everything in my power the first time around. But I quit.
I can still call the doctor and tell her I changed my mind and get my next dose this week. I can't bring myself to do it though. Very few people have been told that I quit, because I can't talk about it. Most people are ready to celebrate my news. I'm just not there yet. It's almost impossible to explain exactly what I feel. But I know I don't want to hear congratulations, because right now I am sure I don't deserve that. Maybe all I need is time for this to sink in that it's finally over and I can move on to a subject that isn't cancer. There's a crazy thought. One thing is certain - this is the end of my chemo. I won't be changing my mind.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The summer heat is upon us which can only mean one thing: fighting over the temp in the house. Honestly! Tom believes a house isn't livable until you can see your breath; I, on the other hand, believe you shouldn't have to wear a parka in your home during the summer months. We compromise. During the day while Tom is at work I will knock the temp up, then an hour before he gets home I run the temp back down again. On this particular Wednesday I forgot to make the house cooler before the iceman cometh home. OK, yes, I do know that the thermostat can be programmed to automatically adjust the temp throughout the day - but that would require me having to read instructions, and really...that is so not going to happen.
So, Tom gets home and mumbles something about bursting into flames then readjusts the air temp himself. I was so cold that night I couldn't sleep. By 3 am I am shivering and wearing pretty much all my clothes at the same time. I finally decide I'm going to go sit in a bath of scalding hot water to warm up. This worked for a few minutes, then I was right back to shivering again. By 4:30 I was able to fall asleep, but not for long. I'd only slept for about an hour or so when I woke up and something clicked inside my frozen head...perhaps I should take my temperature. Turns out the house was no colder than normal, I just happen to be getting sick. Super!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
I wake up Tom and tell him I've got a fever. We now have to decide when is the best time to call the doctor. I'm not allowed to have a fever of over 100.5 and already I was up to 101. It was 6 am and we knew the doctor on call would just tell us to go to the emergency room. We strongly dislike the emergency room. Of course, this meant doing nothing until the doctor's office opened at 8:00. As we tried to decide how to handle this my fever continued to rise. I also had a pretty nasty pain on the left side of my chest where my breast used to be - I could tell it was starting to swell and it was tender to the touch.
Next thing I remember I'm at the hospital infusion center where I receive my chemo treatments. I guess while deciding what to do at home, I fell asleep and when I wasn't asleep I was somewhat delirious. I don't remember that, but I'm sure it was fun. At the hospital, Dr Young seemed very unconcerned. I received a couple of Tylenol to break the fever, a chest x-ray for the pain in my chest, an IV bag of fluids, plus my first dose of oral antibiotics. I was told the antibiotics needed 12 hours to clear up the fever - until then, go home and rest.
Friday, May 29, 2009
My fever is laughing at the antibiotics I had been given. The Tylenol would bring my temperature down for a moment before it would spike back up again. I felt truly horrible. Another call in to the doctor's office where they tell me to to add another OTC fever reducer to the mix. My chest hurt and I was getting more and more frustrated by the lack of concern from my doctors. It wasn't until I threw up in my sleep that the doctors' finally told me to come back in so they could take another look-see. I was a bit surprised they wanted to see me again - then I realized it wasn't Dr Young who wanted me to come in again - it was her partner. Dr Young had left town.
I was immediately admitted into the hospital. While the day before, Dr Young could see nothing wrong with my chest - her partner AND all the nurses could clearly see how swollen the area was. But not only that, the area was red and warm to the touch. Oh, Dr Young, you make it so hard for me to love you.
They put me on some powerful antibiotics; tried to make me eat and watched me throw up for the next few days. I was absolutely miserable. The fever wouldn't go away! They had me on cool (as in cold, not cool as in totally hip) IV fluids that they swore would make me feel better. In their world shivering even harder is feeling better - isn't the case in mine, but I've never had professional training and they have, so what do I know? This was my first hospital stay where they tried to respect my sleep. Unless the doctor was there to see me or I was being wheeled off for lab work, they left me alone. They would wait til I woke up to make me take my handfuls of pills or give me shots in my stomach. I appreciated this.
At some point something started working, because my fever disappeared. Unfortunately when my fever disappear it didn't take with it the pain in my chest. It was decided that I needed to get a sonogram on that area But, of course, by this point, my doctor tells me any fluid that is found will have been cleared up by the antibiotics, so they may not be able to tell what it was that caused this sickness in the first place. He said they really should have checked that before the antibiotics. Sigh. Anyhoo, I got my sonogram and the next day I got the pocket of fluid drained.
Soon after getting the area drained they let me go home. And I went to bed. Which is where I've stayed. And wouldn't leave if I didn't have a chemo treatment tomorrow. This infection wiped me out. I've not had much energy anyway, but this is as bad as I've been in a long time. And it's only going to get worse after tomorrow. Oh yippy.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Now What???
Way more tired than usual today. I had a very high fever and pain in my ribs which caused me to have to go to the hospital. Too out of it to blog about it today. I'll get y'all updated tomorrow.
Thanks for the prayers..
Thanks for the prayers..
Monday, May 25, 2009
Breasts
I have two 6 1/2 inch (yep, I measured) scars where my breasts used to be. I'm really not telling you this so you'll feel sorry for me. Please don't feel sorry for me; I'd rather have those scars than cancer. It still amazes me that I went to the doctor for a simple thyroid problem and two month later ended up with these scars and no hair. Crazy. Seriously, crazy. I'm the type that goes to the doctor positive I have strep throat and the test ALWAYS comes back negative.The other day Tom and I were talking about that phone call that changed my life forever. How I still dreamt about it. There are days the phone rings and I have flash backs to that call. I remember that call word for word; the tone in her voice as she told me I had cancer. I remember how I repeated back to her the word cancer and the expression on Tom's face when I said it. A breast cancer survivor friend of mine was horrified when she heard they told me the news over the phone instead of calling me into the office. I'm not sure I could have handled that. They don't usually call you in to tell you everything is ok, ya know? I would have known something was up and been completely freaked out until the appointment. There really is no good way to tell you you havce cancer, in my opinion.
That first office visit they tried to tell me all I really needed was to have the rest of lump removed. In the beginning Tom, my surgeon, my oncologist and a few other family members were all trying to tell me to go ahead with just a lumpectomy and chemo. I was never more scared of anything in my entire life. What if my surgeon missed something? Could I take that chance with my life? From the beginning I had something inside me telling me I needed more than a lumpectomy. Turns out it was God and I'm glad I listened. For those of you who haven't read my whole story, or who have forgotten - after my mastectomy they found a second mass in my left breast - a tumor that didn't show up on my mammogram or MRI.
So, here I am without breasts trying to decide if I should have implants or not. I don't have to have actual implants either - I can have the them take muscle and fat from my stomach to create breasts. From what I understand that is extremely painful, though. Plus they will create these neat fake nipples and tattoo on the aureoles. The nipples won't be responsive so I'll always look like I'm cold. I just can't decide what to do. There are times I don't mind not having any breasts. I like not wearing a bra. No bouncing when I run and jump (yeah, ok, I know they won't bounce IF I were to run and jump.) On the negative side: tight fitting t-shirts are out! I look ridiculous! And I have to worry about my weight and the fact that my stomach could someday pop out further than my chest giving me that potbelly look. We don't want that. Nope.
Next month I'm going to be 40 years old. I promise you before all this started I was completely unhappy with my breasts. I wonder if there are any 40 year old women (with their natural breasts) who love their breasts. Is there any woman who looks down in the shower and thinks "they're still soooo beautiful!". I know breast feeding two children was unkind to mine. Much thought had been given to someday having a breast lift. Women who have breasts that are large wish for small breasts; women with small breasts wish for large breasts. My wish is that I had mine back - just the way they were. Please don't tell me if that's what I wish I should have the surgery to get implants. Those won't be mine. Fake nipples and tattoos? Absolutely no feeling in my chest area? Yeah, people, totally not the same. I did the right thing having them removed, but I miss them. I mourn for them.
I don't usually write blogs like this. I much prefer to tell stories than to write about a random subject matter. But I needed to vent. Today I wore a tight gray t-shirt and decided I'd wear a sports bra underneath (I dunno why either) after a couple hours of doing the junior high bra pull down because there was nothing that was keeping the bra from riding up - I had to take the stupid thing off. It made me sad. While I know I'm not going to change anyone's life with this post, I hope you pause and think - at least for a moment - and be happy with what you have. Trust me it's better than nothing.
I can't end this without a story:
A couple weeks ago it was a beautiful sunny day and I decided I would take advantage of my beastlessness and wear a shirt that required no bra. I put on my spaghetti strap top with the build in padded bra. Problem was, without anything to pad the bra was gaping open and you could see my scars. After much consideration I finally decided I only had one option: stuff shirt with socks - and that's what I did. I used two big, fluffy, hot pink socks all balled up and it looked pretty good, if I do say so myself. When Tom and the kids got home they were most impressed by my new figure (they all noticed right away.) In fact, I was feeling so good I wanted to go out to dinner; so out to dinner we went.
I was in a good mood and I noticed a few people staring at me, as usual. Yeah, yeah, I have no hair - or maybe they were staring at my hot chest. I noticed the waitress kept giving me a really sweet smile. I did notice she was checking out my chest, too. You can tell I have cancer, and usually you can tell I have no breasts...maybe she was trying to figure out what kind of cancer I had. Or she noticed what I noticed on the drive home: one of my hot pink socks was falling out of my shirt. Classy!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Quick Update
I've not been feeling well - lots of headaches and very tired. Tomorrow I'm going to get back in the blogging swing of things!
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