Sat. June 21, 2014
I figured something out this morning. Emotionally, I did a lot better with the first cycle than the second, and the only reason I can think of is that I had taken time to mentally prepare. I think the reason I had a harder time emotionally this time around was because I didn't prepare adequately. The first time, I had no idea what to expect, so I hoped for the best and expected the worst. The second cycle, I knew what to expect, and wasn't looking forward to it so I just refused to think about it. Yeah, that didn't work very well.
So, I'm hoping that between now and the next cycle, in addition to doing things that will make me smile, and preparing physically, I can think through things so I am prepared mentally for a week of not feeling well. I'm not sure quite how to do that, but I am going to be trying to figure it out.
Today was a great day! It was warm and sunny, and we did some fun things as a family. Went to a baptism in the morning, then took the kids down to the airport for Young Eagles (they gave kids 8 and up a free 15-20 min. flight---the kids loved it!), and the family went to a movie in the afternoon. It was nice to just have fun for a while. It seems weird for me to say that. I'm not really a fun person, but today it felt great to just forget it all and have a good time.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
I had a Dr. appointment yesterday. I am feeling better, but not good. I tire more easily--just general weakness, I still have the cough and runny nose, and all the other side effects like metallic taste and a dry mouth. Felt a bit of nausea on and off today. I am really beginning to understand what I only understood intellectually before . . . that with each treatment, my "feeling better" won't be quite as good as before.
So, at my Dr. appointment, we talked about how this cycle went, and all the symptoms. (FYI, I really am doing very well with the chemo--I've heard of other people whose bodies handle it so poorly, they decide to discontinue it.) So, after we talked about all that, the PA at the oncologist's office said, "So, is there anything else?" "No, I'm good." But he must have been getting vibes that I didn't even know about, because he asked a couple of times. Finally, I said, "It just seems so long. I don't know how people who are on maintenance do it!" He looked a little surprised and then said, "Oh, that's a whole different chemo. When someone is on maintenance, we aren't going to be curing it, so it's a different chemo. With you, we're hitting you hard; we're going for a cure!!! And you are doing really very well with it. Most people don't do this well." At that point, I said something like "I know, some people have it so rough. I've got no reason to complain." And he said "Give yourself credit! This is a tough chemo you're doing, and you are handling it so well!" Then he told me during the next two weeks, get out and do some fun things; make some good memories. I felt like a million pounds had been lifted off my shoulders. Somehow it made me feel better to know that I wasn't just being wimpy when I don't feel very good. It was a great reminder that there IS a purpose for this misery, and that it will be worth it when I'm done. And it was great advice to get out and do something fun to lift my spirits so that I'm ready for the next go-round in two weeks. I really appreciated that he was more tuned-in than I was!
And now for the irony! When I talked to him about this obnoxious lingering cough and junk, he told me that it could be BECAUSE of the chemo--that's quite common. While it is true that I've been fighting illness off and on since March, who knows what has caused what? Which came first, the chicken or the egg??? Isn't that funny? I've been so worried about trying to get rid of the crud so I could have the chemo, and the whole time, it may have been the chemo that was causing it!!! That made me feel better, too. Even though I will probably have to feel icky, it took the pressure of "having to get rid of it" off. It's so funny. The more I learn about this whole cancer experience, the more I find out I don't know. Amusing.
So, the plan for this week and next is to try to focus more on the good things than on the fact that I am not feeling 100%. If I look for the good, that is what I will find. So, I"m going to look! Today was a nice, sunny day. It has been dark and rainy all week, which I am sure has played a part in my discouragement. But today was beautiful, and that was nice! :-)
I had a Dr. appointment yesterday. I am feeling better, but not good. I tire more easily--just general weakness, I still have the cough and runny nose, and all the other side effects like metallic taste and a dry mouth. Felt a bit of nausea on and off today. I am really beginning to understand what I only understood intellectually before . . . that with each treatment, my "feeling better" won't be quite as good as before.
So, at my Dr. appointment, we talked about how this cycle went, and all the symptoms. (FYI, I really am doing very well with the chemo--I've heard of other people whose bodies handle it so poorly, they decide to discontinue it.) So, after we talked about all that, the PA at the oncologist's office said, "So, is there anything else?" "No, I'm good." But he must have been getting vibes that I didn't even know about, because he asked a couple of times. Finally, I said, "It just seems so long. I don't know how people who are on maintenance do it!" He looked a little surprised and then said, "Oh, that's a whole different chemo. When someone is on maintenance, we aren't going to be curing it, so it's a different chemo. With you, we're hitting you hard; we're going for a cure!!! And you are doing really very well with it. Most people don't do this well." At that point, I said something like "I know, some people have it so rough. I've got no reason to complain." And he said "Give yourself credit! This is a tough chemo you're doing, and you are handling it so well!" Then he told me during the next two weeks, get out and do some fun things; make some good memories. I felt like a million pounds had been lifted off my shoulders. Somehow it made me feel better to know that I wasn't just being wimpy when I don't feel very good. It was a great reminder that there IS a purpose for this misery, and that it will be worth it when I'm done. And it was great advice to get out and do something fun to lift my spirits so that I'm ready for the next go-round in two weeks. I really appreciated that he was more tuned-in than I was!
And now for the irony! When I talked to him about this obnoxious lingering cough and junk, he told me that it could be BECAUSE of the chemo--that's quite common. While it is true that I've been fighting illness off and on since March, who knows what has caused what? Which came first, the chicken or the egg??? Isn't that funny? I've been so worried about trying to get rid of the crud so I could have the chemo, and the whole time, it may have been the chemo that was causing it!!! That made me feel better, too. Even though I will probably have to feel icky, it took the pressure of "having to get rid of it" off. It's so funny. The more I learn about this whole cancer experience, the more I find out I don't know. Amusing.
So, the plan for this week and next is to try to focus more on the good things than on the fact that I am not feeling 100%. If I look for the good, that is what I will find. So, I"m going to look! Today was a nice, sunny day. It has been dark and rainy all week, which I am sure has played a part in my discouragement. But today was beautiful, and that was nice! :-)
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Wed. June 18, 2014
I've had a lot of thoughts tumbling around inside my head this last week, but yesterday I didn't have time to really delve into them. So, here goes.
First, lately I've heard a lot of cancer "horror" stories . . . true stories of people whose outcome "should" have been good, but it isn't. Those kind of freaked me out, and I found myself fighting panic for days on end, because if someone else whose prognosis was initially so good could turn out that way, mine must be right on track to turn out so much worse . . . . . it makes sense logically. Eventually (and it DID take a while) I had to go back and remember again that the end of my story hasn't been written yet, and I need to stop putting the cart ahead of the horse. I had to remember---again---that Heavenly Father knows my needs and those of my family, and I had to remember to just let it go---again----and put my trust in Him. I had to remember the plan for this illness . . . "work" like everything is up to me (which in my case is have all the treatments medicine recommends) and "pray" like everything is up to God (self-explanatory.) Remembering that made it easier to let go of the panic.
I mentioned this yesterday . . . I found that the last couple of days when I was just starting to feel better were really frustrating and discouraging. I was tired of not being "smart" and feeling lousy, and just wanted it to be over. My brother described the brain fog by saying that he could see that it was taking my most intense concentration to just carry on a conversation. That's a good description. I remember concentrating as hard as I could to try to say what I wanted to say, because I didn't want to sound stupid. It was just so frustrating. And I didn't feel good, and nothing tasted the least bit appetizing, and then I would think ahead about 4 more chemo treatments, and get very overwhelmed. And then I would have to remind myself to stop trying to "eat the whole elephant in one bite." Then a few minutes later I would begin feeling frustrated and discouraged again and repeat the whole process. I remember that I felt discouraged like that last chemo cycle, too, right before I got feeling better, so I expect I will probably go through that with each cycle. I'm just going to have to remember to take it a day (or a minute) at a time. Last night, I started coughing my head off again, and that has been frustrating, too. Anyone see a pattern here?
I am realizing that the main lesson I am trying to learn--again--is about trust and faith. I was thinking about exercise. We don't exercise by sitting on the couch watching someone on TV; we exercise by getting up and getting moving--regularly. I realized our faith is like that, too. "Exercising" faith is not passive--it's active. We have to try and try again. Thus the pattern we are seeing . . . I just have to keep remembering to go back to the basics each time I start feeling doubt or fear or frustration. I'm sure I will be able to look back later and see growth, but right now, it seems like I am just trying to remember to apply the same lesson I thought I already learned last week. . . kind of like exercising, I guess! :-)
I'm just glad that I am starting to feel a little better for now. I plan to enjoy the next two weeks, even with the coughing fits, thank you very much!
I've had a lot of thoughts tumbling around inside my head this last week, but yesterday I didn't have time to really delve into them. So, here goes.
First, lately I've heard a lot of cancer "horror" stories . . . true stories of people whose outcome "should" have been good, but it isn't. Those kind of freaked me out, and I found myself fighting panic for days on end, because if someone else whose prognosis was initially so good could turn out that way, mine must be right on track to turn out so much worse . . . . . it makes sense logically. Eventually (and it DID take a while) I had to go back and remember again that the end of my story hasn't been written yet, and I need to stop putting the cart ahead of the horse. I had to remember---again---that Heavenly Father knows my needs and those of my family, and I had to remember to just let it go---again----and put my trust in Him. I had to remember the plan for this illness . . . "work" like everything is up to me (which in my case is have all the treatments medicine recommends) and "pray" like everything is up to God (self-explanatory.) Remembering that made it easier to let go of the panic.
I mentioned this yesterday . . . I found that the last couple of days when I was just starting to feel better were really frustrating and discouraging. I was tired of not being "smart" and feeling lousy, and just wanted it to be over. My brother described the brain fog by saying that he could see that it was taking my most intense concentration to just carry on a conversation. That's a good description. I remember concentrating as hard as I could to try to say what I wanted to say, because I didn't want to sound stupid. It was just so frustrating. And I didn't feel good, and nothing tasted the least bit appetizing, and then I would think ahead about 4 more chemo treatments, and get very overwhelmed. And then I would have to remind myself to stop trying to "eat the whole elephant in one bite." Then a few minutes later I would begin feeling frustrated and discouraged again and repeat the whole process. I remember that I felt discouraged like that last chemo cycle, too, right before I got feeling better, so I expect I will probably go through that with each cycle. I'm just going to have to remember to take it a day (or a minute) at a time. Last night, I started coughing my head off again, and that has been frustrating, too. Anyone see a pattern here?
I am realizing that the main lesson I am trying to learn--again--is about trust and faith. I was thinking about exercise. We don't exercise by sitting on the couch watching someone on TV; we exercise by getting up and getting moving--regularly. I realized our faith is like that, too. "Exercising" faith is not passive--it's active. We have to try and try again. Thus the pattern we are seeing . . . I just have to keep remembering to go back to the basics each time I start feeling doubt or fear or frustration. I'm sure I will be able to look back later and see growth, but right now, it seems like I am just trying to remember to apply the same lesson I thought I already learned last week. . . kind of like exercising, I guess! :-)
I'm just glad that I am starting to feel a little better for now. I plan to enjoy the next two weeks, even with the coughing fits, thank you very much!
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
I've mostly made it through the second chemo cycle. Still feeling a little icky, but starting to come out of it. And I'm losing more hair. We just buzzed it before, but now I'm losing little pieces everywhere. So, my sister and brother made the work of art you see above with duct tape. :-) I think it's funny! In a few minutes, we will probably shave it the rest of the way because it's annoying to find little hairs in your food and everywhere else. Just saying.
This time, the reality of 6 treatments is getting to me. It seems like such a long road. I just have to keep reminding myself (over and over) to just get through today, and NOT to worry about anything beyond that. I think about people who do maintenance chemo and wonder how they do it mentally. They are tough, that's all I can say.
I don't have anything profound to tell . . . we're just taking this a day at a time at this point! Slow and steady wins the race, right?
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Tues. June 10, 2014
I just have a few things I've been thinking about . . .
First, I am feeling SO much better. Still get coughing sometimes and can't quit, but each day is better than the one before. I have hope that maybe I will still be well enough to have my treatment this week. Not that I really WANT to, but I NEED to, so I hope I can. I've been fighting this silly thing since March, off and on. Well, I realized something. I was sick when I went in for the mammo. Then the whole time I was chomping at the bit to hurry and have the surgery, I was "trying to get over my cold." And then the whole time I was healing from surgery and preparing for my first treatment, I was "trying to get over my cold." In each case, I would pray and pray that I would be well enough, and I was. It always came back, but when I needed to be well the most, I was. It seems that that same thing is happening again (knock on wood now) but maybe, just maybe, the getting better part is in answer to my prayers. And maybe the getting sick again part is to help me learn to let go and trust. It's going to be a long time before I get good at that, but I'm trying!!!!
Secondly, tonight I went to drop my daughter off at the church, and ran into a sweet lady I know. We began talking about trials, and how hard some of them are. Since I've been diagnosed, I have had conversations with so many people about trials. I had always heard that "Everybody has something." I have found that to be so true!!! Sometimes it's medical issues in you or someone you love, sometimes it's death, often it's bad choices by family members or close friends, sometimes it might even be the consequences of your own foolish choices, sometimes it's something that you wanted so badly---a righteous desire---that has not happened. I think the hardest ones are the ones you CAN'T talk about openly . . . the ones when you have to suffer silently and put on a happy face. But everybody really does have something!
I have been so much more keenly aware of the suffering of others since I've been diagnosed. I'm sure the suffering existed before that; I just didn't know. Somehow, it has opened a dialogue with others about it, and I've found out how many of them are suffering something right now, too. But not all their suffering is as "obvious" as hair loss, or as "safe" to talk about. It has made me more aware of the need to serve others, even if it's just with a smile, and to be careful not to be too quick to judge them. It's better to just love them. My prayers keep getting longer and longer, because I keep becoming aware of more and more people that are suffering, and they need my prayers just as much as I need theirs. I am so glad that Heavenly Father knows and loves them, too.
Have to end with one of my favorite quotes . . .
"Some are tested by poor health, some by a body that is deformed or homely. Others are tested by handsome and healthy bodies; some by the passion of youth, others by the erosions of age.
"Some suffer disappointment in marriage, family problems, others live in poverty and obscurity. Some (perhaps this is the hardest test) find ease and luxury.
"All are part of the test, and there is more equality in this testing than sometimes we suspect." (Elder Boyd K. Packer, The Choice, Ensign, November 1980, p. 20.)
I guess the challenge before us is to allow the tests to refine us, not destroy us, so we can become the people Heavenly Father wants us to become.
I just have a few things I've been thinking about . . .
First, I am feeling SO much better. Still get coughing sometimes and can't quit, but each day is better than the one before. I have hope that maybe I will still be well enough to have my treatment this week. Not that I really WANT to, but I NEED to, so I hope I can. I've been fighting this silly thing since March, off and on. Well, I realized something. I was sick when I went in for the mammo. Then the whole time I was chomping at the bit to hurry and have the surgery, I was "trying to get over my cold." And then the whole time I was healing from surgery and preparing for my first treatment, I was "trying to get over my cold." In each case, I would pray and pray that I would be well enough, and I was. It always came back, but when I needed to be well the most, I was. It seems that that same thing is happening again (knock on wood now) but maybe, just maybe, the getting better part is in answer to my prayers. And maybe the getting sick again part is to help me learn to let go and trust. It's going to be a long time before I get good at that, but I'm trying!!!!
Secondly, tonight I went to drop my daughter off at the church, and ran into a sweet lady I know. We began talking about trials, and how hard some of them are. Since I've been diagnosed, I have had conversations with so many people about trials. I had always heard that "Everybody has something." I have found that to be so true!!! Sometimes it's medical issues in you or someone you love, sometimes it's death, often it's bad choices by family members or close friends, sometimes it might even be the consequences of your own foolish choices, sometimes it's something that you wanted so badly---a righteous desire---that has not happened. I think the hardest ones are the ones you CAN'T talk about openly . . . the ones when you have to suffer silently and put on a happy face. But everybody really does have something!
I have been so much more keenly aware of the suffering of others since I've been diagnosed. I'm sure the suffering existed before that; I just didn't know. Somehow, it has opened a dialogue with others about it, and I've found out how many of them are suffering something right now, too. But not all their suffering is as "obvious" as hair loss, or as "safe" to talk about. It has made me more aware of the need to serve others, even if it's just with a smile, and to be careful not to be too quick to judge them. It's better to just love them. My prayers keep getting longer and longer, because I keep becoming aware of more and more people that are suffering, and they need my prayers just as much as I need theirs. I am so glad that Heavenly Father knows and loves them, too.
Have to end with one of my favorite quotes . . .
"Some are tested by poor health, some by a body that is deformed or homely. Others are tested by handsome and healthy bodies; some by the passion of youth, others by the erosions of age.
"Some suffer disappointment in marriage, family problems, others live in poverty and obscurity. Some (perhaps this is the hardest test) find ease and luxury.
"All are part of the test, and there is more equality in this testing than sometimes we suspect." (Elder Boyd K. Packer, The Choice, Ensign, November 1980, p. 20.)
I guess the challenge before us is to allow the tests to refine us, not destroy us, so we can become the people Heavenly Father wants us to become.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Monday, June 9, 2014
I really should get something done; I have so much that I need to do to prepare for being out of commission for a few days. But, I'm procrastinating. :-(
That little cold bug really got me this weekend! My son just turned 8 and was baptized on Saturday. I felt so awful--I was just trying to make it through the day. I did not ponder the sacredness of the occasion--I was too miserable. So, I'm thinking about that today! ;-) The good news is that I am feeling much better now. I have another treatment scheduled for this week, and I'm hoping that my body will heal enough to be able to have that treatment as scheduled. I'm still eating lots of garlic and onion, and diffusing essential oils in the air, and rubbing them on various parts of my body, etc. I'm just trying my best to give my body everything I can to help it fight the bug.
I realized something (again), though. All last week, I found myself fretting and fretting about this cold. Not that the cold is that big of a deal--it's just miserable. But I was worrying because I didn't want to have to postpone the chemo because of the cold, nor did I want to have the chemo WITH the cold, because I was worried about what might happen when my immunity hits its' low point if I wasn't well when I had the treatment. I had done everything I could think of to do. I did have a blessing. I had been praying that I would be able to get well, and that I would know if there was anything else I could do to help my body fight it. I had tried every home remedy I knew of that I thought would be safe. I was fretting because that cold was still hanging on in spite of my best efforts to get rid of it. I realized I was doing it again . . . not leaving it in the Lord's hands. Since then, I have been trying to "let go" and leave it in Heavenly Father's hands. I'm still trying to do all in my power, of course, but I realized that this is a lesson He wants me to learn . . . how to let go of it after I've done all I can. I just try to remind myself to let it go and trust Him when I find myself fretting about it. I'm hoping I will feel much, much better by Thursday!
I really should get something done; I have so much that I need to do to prepare for being out of commission for a few days. But, I'm procrastinating. :-(
That little cold bug really got me this weekend! My son just turned 8 and was baptized on Saturday. I felt so awful--I was just trying to make it through the day. I did not ponder the sacredness of the occasion--I was too miserable. So, I'm thinking about that today! ;-) The good news is that I am feeling much better now. I have another treatment scheduled for this week, and I'm hoping that my body will heal enough to be able to have that treatment as scheduled. I'm still eating lots of garlic and onion, and diffusing essential oils in the air, and rubbing them on various parts of my body, etc. I'm just trying my best to give my body everything I can to help it fight the bug.
I realized something (again), though. All last week, I found myself fretting and fretting about this cold. Not that the cold is that big of a deal--it's just miserable. But I was worrying because I didn't want to have to postpone the chemo because of the cold, nor did I want to have the chemo WITH the cold, because I was worried about what might happen when my immunity hits its' low point if I wasn't well when I had the treatment. I had done everything I could think of to do. I did have a blessing. I had been praying that I would be able to get well, and that I would know if there was anything else I could do to help my body fight it. I had tried every home remedy I knew of that I thought would be safe. I was fretting because that cold was still hanging on in spite of my best efforts to get rid of it. I realized I was doing it again . . . not leaving it in the Lord's hands. Since then, I have been trying to "let go" and leave it in Heavenly Father's hands. I'm still trying to do all in my power, of course, but I realized that this is a lesson He wants me to learn . . . how to let go of it after I've done all I can. I just try to remind myself to let it go and trust Him when I find myself fretting about it. I'm hoping I will feel much, much better by Thursday!
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Thurs. June 5, 2014
We didn't do haircuts last night, because my husband wanted it to be a family event, and we couldn't get everyone home at the same time. So, we did it this morning when everyone was home. It did not turn out to be a family event. Our oldest son went back to bed. Our oldest daughter disappeared . . . somewhere. Our 10 year old daughter had slept in her sleeping bag on the living room floor, and she crawled back in there. I think she was traumatized. Our 2 little boys had a hey-day; they were the photographers. And our 20 month old just kept looking at me very oddly. Here are pictures . . . first of my pink strip in my hair. It was pretty faded by then. Next pic is the box of sunshine. Then a couple of me "tearing out my hair" and then the process of getting it cut. My husband attempted a mullet, but it wasn't a professional job by any means. Doesn't matter. No matter who cuts it, a mullet is a horrible haircut!
We didn't do haircuts last night, because my husband wanted it to be a family event, and we couldn't get everyone home at the same time. So, we did it this morning when everyone was home. It did not turn out to be a family event. Our oldest son went back to bed. Our oldest daughter disappeared . . . somewhere. Our 10 year old daughter had slept in her sleeping bag on the living room floor, and she crawled back in there. I think she was traumatized. Our 2 little boys had a hey-day; they were the photographers. And our 20 month old just kept looking at me very oddly. Here are pictures . . . first of my pink strip in my hair. It was pretty faded by then. Next pic is the box of sunshine. Then a couple of me "tearing out my hair" and then the process of getting it cut. My husband attempted a mullet, but it wasn't a professional job by any means. Doesn't matter. No matter who cuts it, a mullet is a horrible haircut!
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