Happy to be Alive!

Three years ago today, I received the scariest and most devastating news that I’ve ever heard. My oncologist called me with results regarding a CAT scan I’d had a few weeks earlier. I was in a wheelchair because of all the pain in my leg. It was cold and rainy that afternoon, and I remember it so well because we were having a new front door installed (we had to get it done before the end of ’09 so we would qualify for a special home improvement tax break lol). Anyway, my oncologist’s nurse called me around 12:30 that afternoon and said they wanted to talk to me in person. I told her that we would try our best, but we were having a new door put in and it might take awhile. So she made the appointment for 3:30 and the Champion guys were done by around 2. I knew the news was bad. I started crying and praying as soon as I hung up the phone, begging God to give me strength to handle whatever the doc had to say. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t take the two steps down into our garage to get in the car, so I scooted down the steps on my butt. John wheeled me in my chair for the rest of it.

When we got to the doctor’s office, they took us back almost immediately, and my doctor came in to the exam room to deliver the news. He started with “unfortunately…” and put his hand on my shoulder. I just took a deep breath and listened as he told me and John about how the chemo wasn’t working and the CAT scan had detected several lesions on my liver. Me and John just looked at each other, stunned. I was too scared and too surprised to cry. I was just so sure that the chemo was working. My doctor ordered an x-ray on my leg to see if the radiation had helped at all, and to ensure I didn’t have a fracture, so I could start physical therapy. Over in the Radiology department at the hospital, it was dead. After all, it was 4:00 PM on New Year’s Eve. While everyone was off making big party plans, me and John sat alone in the waiting area, quietly wiping tears, trying to hold it together. The x-ray technician had to lift me out of my wheelchair and hold me on the table because I literally could not move my lower body. He told me to hang in there and as long as I didn’t have disease in my liver, I would be fine. “You will do great as long as it’s not in your liver; anywhere but your liver…” he said. Then I told him that I had found out an hour earlier that it was in my liver. He said, “Oh, well you will still be fine, I just know it.” He was embarrassed for putting his foot in his mouth, and I was kind to him. He didn’t mean it badly. In addition to that, he had been carrying my 150 pound ass all over the exam room, so I had to cut him a little slack. On the way home, I said something like, “well this is it, this is how I’m going to die…” but John never accepted that. He just told me I was going to make it. I think he said it 2-3 times during the ride home. Maybe he was trying to convince himself.

When we got home, all I wanted was to watch something mindless and funny on television, and have a double cheeseburger from Burger King. I was afraid to eat onion rings because they always give me indigestion, and I knew that my mind would trick me into thinking those tumors on my liver were the cause. After we ate, I had to call my sister because I knew she would be wondering what was going on. She had been at work all day and I was off (I was working from home, but had vacation time that day). John went into the office bedroom because he couldn’t stand to hear the conversation between me and Cat.  As soon as I heard her voice I started crying really hard and she knew. We cried together and she agreed to break the news to our parents. I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t even sure how I would be able to look at my parents without crying, much less be able to tell them the awful news. After me and Cat got off the phone, I cried really hard for about a half hour, then I called for John to come back into the living room so we could watch something funny. We flipped channels and found “Paul Blart - Mall Cop” on one of the movie channels. Normally, movies like that don’t do much for me, but it was just what both of us needed. We laughed throughout the whole movie. I was still scared and worried, but for an hour and a half, it was nice to laugh and think about something else.

Today, three years later, my life is so different. I’ve had lots of ups and downs since then. But today, I’m up walking around – no scooting down steps on my butt LOL. I’m working in the office instead of at home, propped up in bed. As of October 24, my liver is still clear of tumors (next scan is at the end of January). I spent this afternoon cuddling on the couch with my pup, helping John install a window sill in one on our bathrooms, and eating a great homemade Indian meal that John made after he finished the window work. Now we are watching the Twilight Zone marathon on the Sci Fi channel and my mind is much more at ease. I still get really scared, but three years ago, I didn’t think I would live to see another New Years Eve, much less three more New Year’s Eves!! To be honest, this post is hard to write, because thinking about how things were three years ago still scares me to death. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it even happened. It’s like something you read in a book or see in a movie.  But I need to think of how awful things were, so when I have a self pity moment,  I’ll remember  how great my life really is now.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

My last entry was angry and full of self pity. In moments of weakness, it's easy to forget how blessed I really am. I experienced some really nice blessings during the holiday weekend. My Christmas with John and my family was wonderful. I'm thrilled that I'm here to celebrate another holiday and that my body feels strong enough to enjoy two of my favorite things: shopping and baking! We also went to the Christmas Eve candlelight service at church and it was so nice.
 
I went back to work yesterday after having a few days off. I learned that one of my contacts at our headquarters office died suddenly over the weekend. I never got to meet her face to face, but we spoke on the phone and emailed frequently regarding work projects. In fact, I just talked to her last week. I knew that she had been sick and recently had surgery, although she was back to work and recovering. Hearing this news made me very sad, and her family is in my prayers. But it also reminded me that none of us is guaranteed tomorrow. Three years ago, I could barely celebrate Christmas because I was in so much pain. It was all I could do to put on my wig and makeup and pretend to feel good so I wouldn't disappoint or scare my niece and nephew. Now, I'm working in the office every day, going to church, shopping, cooking/baking, and hosting my family at my house for the holidays. I'm so thankful for all of these things.
 
One of my Facebook friends posted something really cool and I’m going to do it in 2013. On January 1, you take an empty jar or container, and put in little notes about good things that happen throughout the year. Then on New Year’s Eve, you empty it and read all the little notes. I think that sounds really awesome. I’m going to make sure to date each note that I write too. What a wonderful way to truly count your blessings!

Another Weak Moment...

Day in and day out, I try to maintain a positive attitude. Every day is a gift and I’m thankful to be alive. People ask me how I am and I always say that I’m good and can’t complain. But right now at this very moment, I’m pissed off. I don’t really know what brought it on. I’ve had a great day today. I woke up with minimal pain. Me and my husband went to church and heard beautiful music and a great sermon. We enjoyed a tasty Japanese lunch with my parents.

I guess I just started thinking about things in my life and how some people complain about stupid stuff and I just get tired of it. I hate that I’ve been bald for 3 years. I hate that I have pain every day. I hate that I dated so many stupid people before finally meeting the true love of my life, and now I’m going to die and leave him here alone. I hate being on a cane because no matter how much makeup I wear and how much money I’ve spent on a quality wig, I still look like a sick person. I hate that my toenails never grow and what I do have are so damaged by the chemo that I’m too ashamed to let John see them. I hate that I have two pink lines across my chest instead of two breasts, which by the way, were really pretty at one time. I hate that I have to go to the doctor every few weeks and worry every time about what he’s going to say. I’m so tired of hearing “this is good news but…” or “unfortunately…”  I hate that I have hot flashes that make my face blazing red all the time. I hate that I’m so self conscious that I push my friends away and avoid most social situations. I hate reading articles about celebrities or pseudo celebrities like those stupid housewives of whatever city talk about a “very scary” breast surgery for a BENIGN tumor. Really? You are scared because you “almost” had breast cancer? Give me a break. I would give my right arm to have had an “almost breast cancer” scare. I hate it when people talk about how tired they are of being sick, when they’ve been sick for a week with a cold. I hate that I can’t help my husband with housework or go grocery shopping by myself. I hate seeing disabled people that don’t work and I’m working full time. I hate the show Bridezillas, but I hate even more that I’ve been sitting here for two hours watching it!

Well, now that I have all of that out of my system, I feel better. I think it’s normal and human to have pity parties and get mad sometimes. I’m thankful that it doesn’t happen often and usually happens in private. John is painting one of our bathrooms so he doesn’t even know that I had a “moment.” I like to cry in private because I’m the world’s ugliest cryer lol. I love my life and I want to live to be 80, but I have moments of fear, anger, frustration, sadness, and pain.  It just gets to me and I have to release it.  Okay, I’m done. Uplifting and happier blog entries are coming soon. :o)