Blah, blah, Whine, blah, blah

First I advice you to get some cheese before reading this because there is lots of whine coming your way. Starting with I'm taking a break from being sick to even write this.

For the last 2 movies and the last 3 Harry Potter Books, the oldest and I have made a date of going at midnight to see the movie or pick up the book. It was our thing. Funnily enough, she wasn't even reading the books when she went with me to the release parties and getting the books. Usually people came with us. Once it was just the two of us. I loved it. She loved it.

This year we had big plans - we were going to the movie. We'd have approximately 6 other people with us. It's the final book. We were going to do it right.

And then along came cancer. And chemo. And it just so happens that chemo was yesterday and Harry Potter comes out today. Which try as I might I can't make the movie. So now she is going with her best friend and her best friend's mom (also my close friend). Part of whom we would have been going with anyway. Which is fine. Except I don't get to be there.

We thought maybe I could go next week and whoever wanted to see it twice, could tag along. And now, now I can't even see it next week. Because now we know for sure (since it's happened twice) my white blood cell counts will plummet and a theater probably isn't the best place for me. And since I'd like to not end up in the hospital, who knows when or if I'll get out to see it. And even if I could go in 3 weeks or pretend it's in the theater 2 months from now. It still wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be at midnight on opening night with my daughter. And i can't lie. It sucks big time. It's like another thing cancer has taken away from us. And darn-it. I'm getting pretty darn tired of it. I can't wait to kick cancer to the curb and get it out of my life forever. And forever.

I'm Lucky ...

Sometimes even I need a reminder ...

I'm lucky I was diagnosed with breast cancer. A cancer in which a lot is known and the doctors are well aware of how to treat it.

I'm lucky I have insurance. I can't imagine how we'd pay the bills otherwise. No. Actually I can imagine. We'd be paying them for the next many many years.

I'm lucky we had (albeit not large) savings. Because even with insurance, there are portions we have to pay. And they add up quickly.

I'm lucky because of all the help we've had. Since Mid-May we've been getting 3-4 meals a week. How blessed we are. It's been a huge help. And we're so appreciative of it.

I'm lucky because of all the support we've had. I'm pretty sure there are hundreds of people out there praying/sending good thoughts/thinking of me. Many of whom I've never met.

I'm lucky because I'm in the hands of some amazing doctors. I've heard from other medical profesionals how wonderful my doctors are. I'd like to say it's because I researched it and picked only the best, but the truth is it's only by chance I landed with the doctors I've landed with.

I'm lucky I have family and friends close close. Especially my mom. She has been an amazing god send to us during this time. She's here almost on a daily basis. Drives me to my appointments and helps with the kids without complaint. That's just one example. All of our family and friends have been amazing.

I'm lucky because of all the on-line support I've been given. many of you whom I've never met in real life, and yet, there you are thinking of me. Sending me well-wishes and supporting me. I'm blown away by it all.

I'm lucky because I have am amazing, supportive husband. I've heard some stories. And wow. Some men are absolute jerks. But my husband is not one of them. And I thank God for this man every day.

Did you miss me?

I've been MIA again. I'm sorry. I don't mean to disappear. So here's what happened.

Wednesday was one of those days where I spent a lot of time crying (this should have been clue number 1). And I felt pretty darn tired (clue number 2). And I was cold for most of the day. (clue number 3). But you know, really, I haven't had a whole lot of "normal" days so I didn't think much of it.

So we get all the kids to bed. Hubs and I climb into bed. He kisses me good-night very sweetly on the forehead. And then he gets that concerned look on his face and wants to take my temperature. In my head, I'm thinking fine, whatever, just let me go to bed. Yeah, 101.0. Which during chemo means trouble. So we call the doctor and get sent to the ER.

Which let me tell you, is absolutely no fun at all. So we run lots of tests. And we decide that we need to start some antibiotics as a precaution. And here, here is where it gets super fun. Almost as soon as they hook me up to the antibiotics, major stomach pain. Which leads to some severe vomiting. Which leads to a majorly huge panic attack. Which leads to them giving me both anti-nausea medicine and some Ativan.

Things finally calm down. Antibiotic is done. And they decide to release me (yay!). But silly me, I had to go to the bathroom. So we have discharge papers and prescription in hand. And I need to pee. Which is fine. Except, um, I passed out in the bathroom.

My blood pressure bottomed out. And apparently, if you pass out while still in the ER, even if you've been discharged, you get automatic admittance to the hospital. So I was there until Saturday at noon.

The only plus I can say is the staff was awesome and amazing. Of course, I didn't actually want to be there. I wanted to just be home. But I suppose with all that was going on, being there did make the most sense. On another good side, everyone knew who my oncologist was and I heard nothing but wonderful things about him. It seems everyone really respects him as a doctor. I already liked him, but now I like him even more.

Anyway, I hope to never have to repeat this experience again. Unfortunately, odds are against me this time. The doctor explained to me that once it happens with one cycle, it's much more likely to happen with the rest of them. We'll do some more stuff to try to prevent it. But thank goodness there are only 2 more cycles of these meds to go.

Please, don't stare ....

Tonight I ventured out of the house. I won't lie. Today had already chewed me up, spit me out, and then stomped on me just for good measure. But it was something for a kid and so I went.

And when I showed up, several other mothers visibly stared at me. I mean they didn't even try to hide it. Now, I know I wasn't having wardrobe malfunctions, no spinach in my teeth, etc, etc. I did have a headscarf on. And I'm pretty sure it's obvious I'm not wearing it as a fashion accessory. But, please, please I beg of you. Don't stare at me.

I get it. I'm now a walking reminder that bad things can in fact happen any time to anyone. And that can make you feel uncomfortable. Maybe you are feeling sympathetic and wondering if there is anything you can do to help - but feeling like you can't because we are virtually strangers. Maybe you are really thinking I'm wearing a head scarf as a fashion accessory and you think it's a hideous choice. I don't know.

But I know you are staring at me. And it makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable. It makes me wonder if I should break the ice with a hi. Or should I think of something clever like "take a picture - it lasts longer". Or do I pretend to not notice? Do I stare back? I don't know. Tonight I happen to be talking to someone else - a friend who knows everything going on - so I didn't have to do anything but keep talking to her and pretending I didn't notice. But I did notice. And I didn't like it.

Because here's the thing .. even if you have the best of intentions. I already feel super self-conscious. I'd like to be able to tell you that I'm holding my head up high and rocking the baldylocks look, but come on, you all read this blog. You know I'm not there yet. So when you stare at me, it makes me feel like turning around and running home as fast as I can. Even if you have the best of intentions. Because I can't read your mind. All I can see is you staring at me. And well, it's pretty darn uncomfortable.

So please, please don't stare. Love, me =)

The hardest thing ...

Well this weekend it became obvious it was time to shave the hair. I feel stupid admitting it, but this is the hardest thing I've done so far. Yes, including surgery and chemo. {Okay, if I'm being truly honest, telling the kids about the cancer was the hardest thing so far, but this was a very very very close second}.

Anyway, it might have seemed harder because I was still sick from chemo when we shaved it. And I talked a big game - I said we'd mohawk it or some other crazy thing, and when it came time to actually shave it, I wasn't feeling well and I was so emotional about it all. We ended up not doing anything fun ... we just did it.

Ugh. I'm still not okay with it. I just really hate it. Many a tear has been shed over this hair thing. And I feel kind of bad- like I always tell the kids the outside doesn't matter, and yet, clearly, it does otherwise I wouldn't care so much.

Anyway, my kids - they rock. I haven't talked much about them here, I know. Not because they aren't awesome, but it feels strange to talk about something so personal to them on here to the whole world - if that makes any sense at all. But it's true - it's not just me who has cancer, it's all of us. And I have to brag for a moment and let you know that my kids are handling absolutely the best they can. I'm constantly blown away and amazing at how just awesome they are being during this time.

And today, today, proved no less. Today the girls begged and pleaded to let me let them cut some of their barbie doll's hair. I didn't want to. I want to save them all for the grandchildren and have them looking lovely and nice. But then I paused. A) They asked. I cut my barbie's hair but I most certainly didn't ask first and B) They are barbie dolls. Perspective can be such a lovely thing LOL! So I told them they could do just a couple and have fun. A little while later I was presented with Brandie Barbie.



I love the bandanna (which they made). But it gets even better, when you take off the bandanna ...



I mean, how cool is that? I never in a million years expected to have a Barbie modeled after me. Aren't I super lucky? I am ... not because of the Barbie though ... it's because my kids rock. And just have a way to always put a smile on my face.