honestly honesty sucks sometimes

When I was going through the trials of treatment Katarina had not yet started Kindergarten and Sebastian hadn't even turned 3 yet! Even though they were young, I felt it was important to be honest with the kids. They might not understand the full implications of the surgery, drugs, and radiation, but I wanted them to know why I was gone every few weeks, why I couldn't take them to school and why they couldn't jump on me after surgery. Of course we also told them that doctors were working very hard to make me better and that all the bad treatment was just to get rid of the cancer.  Katarina's pre-K teacher commented one afternoon that she was really surprised at how well Katarina was handling things. She was apparently very matter-of-fact about telling people "my mom has cancer, but she's going to be fine". At the time it was comforting to know she had confidence that this was just a bump in the road. I was quite relieved that she wasn't freaking out or scarred. But there were times that I just didn't want to face the conversations. She asked about death and we talked a lot about the fact that I couldn't have more kids. Even through we had discussed it, she repeatedly asked for a baby brother or sister and we had to re-hash why that wasn't going to happen.  Those conversations were emotional enough, but I think I underestimated how much of an effect this has had on her. Fast forward a few months and she entered Kindergarten. A whole new world. It seems in Kindergarten there are all sorts of grand plans about who's marrying who when they grow up. Katarina told me the other day that she was going to marry a particular boy. I happened to know that he had been talking about marrying another little girl, so I asked about that. Katarina's reply was that perhaps he should marry both girls in case one of them can't have babies. In that moment I wanted to take back all the honest conversations we'd had about cancer and that it derailed the possibility of having more kids. I didn't want my little girl to carry that burden. Fortunately I think she just sees it as a logical solution to a problem I hope she never has to deal with.

confidence gets a boost or maybe I should wear my wigs?

Normal hair grows about a half inch per month. Mine has always been slow and it feels like it has really been slow coming in. Finally in January I was ready for my first professional cut in 10 months. It had actually started to get "long" for my tastes (if 1 1/2 inches can ever be long) and I was ready to exert a little control over it. Even though I have received a lot of compliments on my short hair - some from complete strangers - I have been wanting something that had some purpose and that I controlled. As my stylist said the key to super short hair is having some details so that people know you intended for it to look that way. So she snipped away here and there and I walked out with a big grin. I was happy for a few days but slowly it started to weigh on me that I still didn't feel like I had accomplish what I had intended. It just didn't feel dramatic enough. My next move was to pick up some hair color. I decided a nice red was warranted. That also didn't seem to do the trick. A few restless days later I pulled out the clippers and went shorter. Todd really liked my hair when it was super short (~1/2 inch - 1 inch maybe) - I know, I'm as shocked as anyone!  So, I figured it was worth a shot to take off some more length.  It still doesn't seem to satisfy my need to control my hair and make it look the way I wanted it to (no need to point out that I'm probably not qualified to be own hair stylist). The main problem is probably that the texture has changed significantly in the last five months and it also grew in quite sparsely at first. It started out as a very fine super-blond and then grew thicker and darker over the first 1/4 inch. So when my hair was 1/2 inch long it was a completely different texture and color than it is now. I think I will need to just be patient, let it grow a bit, and not be too dramatic. Since it's so short there's no doubt I'll alternatively want to cut and grow it every few weeks. On the other hand it also may change color and texture again without any interference from me. I have never in my life had hair this thick and it's anyone's guess if it will last. I do have to admit that I love the ease of washing and "styling" it. I think that if I can just be confident that it looks purposeful then I should be okay to not mess with it too much. Or, if it really bugs me I could always pull my wigs back out and put them on for fun.

today's not a cliche, is it?

As a kid I could run around in the snow in the thinnest dress and would not flinch in the slightest. Then I was either spoiled by California weather or my perception of cold changed. For most of the last seven years in Seattle I've only been comfortable in a range of 71-82. Fragile like I fine wine! Partly because of that (partly because it was more environmentally friendly, and partly because it will save us money in the long run) Todd and I finally took the plunge and added insulation to the attic. It was a messy all-day effort, but well worth it. Now the house is very warm and I sometimes have a hard time determining if I'm having hot flashes or if the house is just doing a better job retaining heat. Yes, that's right - here comes the cliche - I've been running hot and cold. When I went into surgery we were expecting that I would keep my ovaries. Alas cancer decided that one of them was yummy and hunkered down and grew. So, aside from immediately loosing my potential future ability to biologically make more kids, I also woke up having been injected with hormone replacement so I wouldn't go through menopause on top of everything else. I then got a low-dose hormone patch to keep me "stable" during chemotherapy and radiation. Probably a good idea to not have your body and mind going through too many things at once, but staying on the patch increases your risk of cancer - isn't that ironic? So eventually I knew I wanted to stop. About a month ago I took the plunge. Yes, there are more side effects than just running hot and cold physically, such as running hot and cold emotionally. Todd and the kids don't seem any worse for the wear... yet... The adventure continues because it's a completely individual experience as to how long the effects will last. This adventure may last 6 months or could go 10 years. Alas, this blog wouldn't reflect how fun it is if I didn't point out the awesome upside - this opens a whole new world of conversation with the women who are 50+ at parties. I'm part of a new special clique.

Looking at the new normal

I have to apologize to anyone who has been following my progress and wellbeing via the blog. I promised myself that I would use the blog to tell people things that were going on and to update it somewhat frequently and with honesty. But since I finished treatment in October that commitment seems to have flown out the window. No, I haven’t been fibbing – but I certainly have neglected writing and sharing for the past month. Part of me wonders whether people have moved on since I’m not posting and am now just in “surveillance” mode. To combat that I am wrapping my head around the concept that it’s okay to write without trying to second guess who’s reading this now - or in the future. Another part is that I’ve been incredibly busy. As treatment wound down, I dialed back up my responsibilities at work.  Now the filp-side is true. In the last two weeks I have facilitated one training and attended two others. This meant traveling cross-country to Florida, Wilton Connecticut, and Chicago.  Throw on top of that Thanksgiving travel, three snow-days where the kids were out of school and you’ve got yourself a full agenda. Looking in to the future also planning travel to Santa Fe in two weeks. So now you’re probably wondering what spurned the return to the blog or what exciting topic would make me pick up the pen… er… laptop. I certainly have missed writing and have felt a tug towards getting proverbial pen to paper, but alas it is not solely for those reasons that I am writing today. As I mentioned I went to a training this week. I ran into many people I had not seen since last year’s training. Some of them knew I had cancer; others had no idea. I had to re-tell my (now shortened into almost an elevator pitch) story on how I’m doing. I so desperately wanted to just say: “I had cancer, and I’m cured.”  Instead it was more likely to come out: “I had cancer, but at this point things look fine, but only time will tell.” I know there’s a whole book published on life after cancer (which I’m not going to read) but this is a brave new world for me. I have been desperate to get back to normal, but I’m not able (and frankly not willing) to give up the acknowledgement that this has permanently changed me. Let’s just hope it’s for the better, right?  

relief for at least 3 months...

Most people probably saw that I posted immediately on Facebook that the results of my scan were good. Since then it's been a whirlwind of activity. As I had mentioned my mom is visiting. We took the whole family out to dinner on Friday night. Saturday we had a celebratory brunch at a friend's house. Saturday night I babysat for for another friend. To top it off my mom brought the the family a Christmas present - a super fancy keyboard - and we've been setting that up and playing with it. I am enjoying a morning that really does feel like Christmas. A hot cup of coffee, I got to sleep in, and the kids are busily playing with a present without fighting.

So trying to remember back to Friday afternoon. My doctor said my CAT scan was "perfect". There was no sign of anything troubling. He also used the "R" word - remission! With that good news comes other news, which I had anticipated; I don't have to go back for another 3 months. He actually offered that I could come back sooner since some people have a hard time going from the intensity of treatment to no doctor's visits. I know exactly what he meant since right at the end of radiation I felt somewhat like I had been dumped, but now that I haven't seen a doctor in a few weeks I'm not feeling the need to go back any time soon.

news flash: anticipation sucks

I went for my long-anticipated CAT scan yesterday. You can see I had a barium drink. No, it wasn't a delicious shake like the nurse promised. Then they "accessed" my power port. Yeah - it looks like fun, doesn't it? I was then injected with contrast dye and scanned (you can see squiggly the tube in the third picture attached to the dye dispenser). Overall a quick procedure, about an hour all said and done. Now I'm just waiting for the results. I have my doctor's appointment at 1:30 pm (it's noon now) and I've been able to keep my mind off it for most of the day, but I am not looking forward to hanging out and waiting... and waiting... and waiting... Doctors' appointment time slots seem to be more general guidelines than specific time slots, so I'm taking my new iPhone, Todd, and my mom to entertain me and keep me from chewing off my fingernails.

And time slips by

It seems hard to remember what things were like about a month ago. I was still in treatment a month ago. I have never posted things on the blog to get people to be proud of me or to inspire someone. I'm just trying my darnedest to cope with things. Having cancer sucked. A lot. But I think we all cope with things in different ways. My way of coping was not consciously to be strong and brave. It just seems that way on the outside. On the inside I wasn't actually coping. It was really denial that made me seems so strong. I just ignored it all. A minor inconvenience in my life. Sure, sometimes I broke down and was freaked out, but overall I had just compartmentalized this crappy little experience and tried to ignore it. That's probably the only way I was capable of dealing with it. I had (and still have) too much life and living to do that I don't have time to mope. I didn't want to let cancer define me. For the most part I have tried to move on. I pretend that it was just something I did for one summer and that I'm done. But the sad reality is that I'm not done. I have a CAT scan on Thursday (11/4) and then a meeting with my doctor on Friday. No big deal, right? It's just another thing that I need to do in my busy schedule. I'm trying not to think about what it means. I am certainly in denial that there could be any bad results. That's simply not an option.

Instead of hiding my head in a box of tissues I decided to do things and pretend to be super-woman. If I pretended long enough maybe it would work. This is an extreme form of denial and I don't specifically encourage people to try it themselves, but it seemed to work fine for me. So, in my little world of denial last month I was looking forward to K's first days of Kindergarten, three of my sisters visiting, the kid's birthdays, seeing my mom for her birthday, running a 1/2 marathon, seeing my brother, visiting with my nieces and of course Halloween. Just your typical busy October, right? And yes, I did a 1/2 marathon last month.

You might want a little background.... For years I have been interested in doing the Nike 1/2 marathon in SF (it happens in mid-October), but have not been able to get in. Instead, one of my friends who turned 30 on 10/10/10 convinced me to sign up for the 1/2 marathon in Victoria for that day. I then convinced some of my siblings to join me for the race weekend. We ran, walked, shopped, drank, had tea at the Empress, and had generally great weather. I am so very proud of my siblings who came and raced with me in a sign of support and celebration!

And yes, I'm very proud for running 6 days after I ended treatment. I guess that's what you can do when you're in denial. There are pictures to prove I was there (http://www.brightroom.com/go.asp?83890315) and you can search to find my time (2:35:36)! I felt great the whole time and am already looking forward to planning the next big race event. 

Oh, and I can't finish a post without mentioning that I love that my hair is growing back!