I had my last chemo treatment today!  From this point on, I can concentrate on being well instead of being sick. Well, to be realistic there will be a little period of being sick following today’s infusion of cancer-killing poisons into my system, but this time I won’t be waiting to feel better so I can get knocked down again.  So I’m feeling pretty good about it.

I have been blessed -with wonderful family, good friends, prayers, meals, phone calls, emails and more love and support than I could have imagined.  I was blessed from the beginning with a doctor who nagged me to go and get my mammogram.  We found this thing early and were able to attack it and send Herman on his way! As these things go, this was a good one.  Not exactly a journey I would wish on anyone, and we’ve had some bumps in the road, but this has been much better than it could have been if I had waited even six more months to find out what was lurking in my body.  Please girls, get those mammograms.  And guys, encourage the women in your life to get that done.

When my treatment was over, I got to take part in a tradition at the infusion center at St. Luke’s.  When you finish chemo, the nurses and staff gather around and you get to ring a bell, and everyone claps and celebrates with you.  I’m not really big on public displays like that, but this was special.  I got a little certificate, signed by all the nurses.  They were all so great.  I have had great care from the doctors, nurses, and all the staff at the St. Luke’s Cancer Center.  Those folks are rock stars!

Now, I get to concentrate on getting well.  The doc said today it will take 4-8 weeks for all the chemo drugs to clear my system, and up to a year to get all my energy back, but I will now be getting better every day instead of sicker, and I really like that dynamic.  There are lots of things I can do – healthy eating, adding more activity after the chemo is really out of my system, even if I’m tired, sunshine, getting back into a social life. Cleaning my house.  Cooking again.  Hugging the grandkids whether they have a runny nose or not.  Hopefully being able to read and write for longer than a few minutes.  Getting out of town.  I can’t wait to get started.

God is good.  This hasn’t been easy, and getting well will be a challenge.  But God is good.  Like the song says, “I find you when I fall apart.”  It’s true.  Every time this has seemed undoable, when I’ve been discouraged, or tired, or sick, or all of the above, God has been there, and sent helpers, words of encouragement, hugs, understanding. No one has ever had so many stretcher bearers.  And, always, God’s precious own presence.  I have experienced it in such a very real way. There have been some dark nights, and then God as there, and it wasn’t so dark.

I’ve learned a lot about being open with God and honest about anger, disappointment, and fear. God can take it.

Thank you all for your prayers, and all the encouragement and support.  It’s a good day!

So….Chemo #2 is done and done.  I’m now just sort of swimming through the mud of ridiculous exhaustion, which seems to be the main side effect of the drugs I get.  In that, I actually consider myself lucky.  There are worse side effects, believe me.  They give you lists.  And, I see some of them up close in other patients at the infusion center.  That is one of my main observations about this process itself.  If I open my eyes and look around me, I see a lot of opportunity and prompting to pray.  Everyone in that room needs prayers, for healing, for comfort, for strength and bravery.

Other observations from the Infusion Center:

•  They have wonderful light and great windows.  They need to turn the chairs so that the patients can look out, instead of having their backs to said windows.  Sunshine and a view are good for you.

• I am now taking all of my magazines straight there as soon as they are finished so they are still fresh, and I will NOT tear out recipes and the ends of articles.  What are people thinking?  That’s just mean.
• Everyone has their own way of coping with this experience, but I am going to try very hard to not sit next to the lady whose coping mechanism is to call every single member of her large family and gossip about every single other member.  In detail.  Loudly.  Enough to penetrate Bose Noise-cancelling headphones.
• The nurses and aids are amazing, attentive and understanding.  Nothing ruffles them. They absolutely radiate confidence and healing.

Other observations about this whole weird thing:

•  I have a confession.  I kind of like running around without my hair.  I thought I would hate it, and I am still kind of picky about who actually sees me, but it’s really quite comfortable to be bald. Especially when you come in from the heat and can take your hair off.  Not bad at all.  I also kind of like the scarf thing, though I am half afraid someone will stop me and ask me to read their tea leaves or something. And, I can drive in the car with the windows down and my hair doesn’t blow in my face.
• I do not care if I ever see another television show again as long as I live, with the possible exception of the new Downton Abbey when it comes and maybe Castle, or Masterpiece Theatre Sherlock.  Maybe.  Unfortunately, the chemo is affecting my eyesight a bit and I can’t read for long periods without it being blurry.  The font size choices on the Kindle help, so it’s getting a real workout.  I have reached televised overload, which for someone of my generation is somewhat unusual.  However, it makes my housemates happy as it just frees up the thing on the wall for more SportsCenter.
• I know that my tiredness doesn’t always let me respond the way I want to or should, but the best thing in all of this, the thing that makes it bearable and doable, is the prayers and calls and notes of encouragement and love of my family and friends.  I am surrounded by the best and most loving people.  I am riding through on a wave of prayer.  I am being helped and cared for and supported physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  I am blessed, and that’s the truth.

Today I read an editorial from NPR that asks, “Will Your Children Inherit Your E-books?” You can read it here.

It is actually an interesting piece, a discussion of  things like gift inscriptions, notations in the margins, inheriting books from family, etc.  And then the author asks the question in the title.

I’ve said before that I just do not understand the either/or nature of the impassioned battle between “Booklovers” and “Kindle Lovers.”  I love nothing better than reading.  Why do I have to choose?  I will never quit buying books, or ever quit loving beautiful editions of especially beloved volumes.  I will give books as gifts to every child I know, and to my own family members, and quite possibly people on the street if I can.  Books are magic.  Books are transformative.  Books are just plain fun.  My children will inherit more books than they probably want.  My only request is that they pass the ones they don’t want on to someone who does.  If they throw them away or allow someone to glue the pages together for a craft project, I will come back to haunt them, mark my words.  However, I don’t think they will miss the need to dispose of the paperback mystery novels or low carb cookbooks that I now tend to put only on my Kindle.  They won’t have to deal with the cheap paperbacks I buy used so that I can have a “carrying copy” of books I own in a more attractive version, but only read at home or somewhere safe.  They won’t have to figure out what to do with the summertime “beach books,” or be horrified at the number of ridiculous chick-lit novels I may have read.

While I’m still here, I can carry a couple of hundred books around with me so I have a vast choice of reading material at any given moment.  To me this is close to heaven on earth, and I do not understand how anyone could think it would somehow lessen my love for paper bound in hard backs, books that someone was thoughtful enough to write an inscription in, or the few leather-bound vintage books I own or want to own. I will read them all.  I will love them all.  A book is still my favorite present, both to give and receive.

Why would I want to choose between the two?  Why should I?

The final shark hunt begins!  Beginning next Friday and continuing every 3 weeks or so for 18-24 weeks, I will spend the day with the nice folks at the St. Luke’s Cancer Institute while they fill my body up with shark-killer chemicals!  It may seem a little bit wacky to be excited to begin chemotherapy, but after all the post-surgery drama and difficulty, I am really eager to begin this last leg of the journey.  Because it IS the last.  In 18-24 weeks, I can start looking at all of this in the rearview mirror, and that sounds very good to me.  Herman has been swimming in circles around me for far too long!

Some interesting things I have observed:

• There continue to be door prizes – tote bags, pillows, stacks of pamphlets and information, samples of special shampoo, lotion…
• If you make a joke about your condition or treatment, the nursing staff tends to look at you kind of funny and go look up the number for the staff psychologist.
• Valet parking is the greatest public service. If you have ever tried to make an appointment on time at St. Luke’s on the Plaza, you know what I mean.
• It is possible, if absolutely necessary, to drive from 135^th and Roe to St. Luke’s Medical Plaza, hand your keys to the valet and get upstairs for an appointment in less than 25 minutes. I think a bumper sticker that says “God is my copilot and the Holy Spirit is my radar detector” might be appropriate.  Or maybe not.
• Wigs are not the hair helmets I expected them to be.
• I have the best, most generous, kind, and supportive friends and family in the world. There are no better people.  I’ve got them all.  If you are nice, I might share them with you.
• Preparing for a wedding is a great distraction.  Even better than reruns of Downton Abbey!

So, this is what I’ll be doing for the next few months.  I may be kind of tired, and not terribly social as I will have to be very careful about germs and crowds and things.  That doesn’t mean I don’t love hearing from you, or that I don’t need and treasure your prayers.  If you want to read about THAT, check out Resurrection’s Prayer Blog this week:  prayer.blogs.cor.org.

So, off we go, spear gun in hand, ready to eliminate Herman for once and for all.  I am SO ready!  I’ll let you know over the weekend how I did with my first session.  I plan on channeling granddaughter Anna…”I’m very brave….I’m very brave….I’m very brave…I get a popsicle…..I’m very brave….”

I need to get with the blogging.  To tell the truth, I’m bored and frustrated with  the Herman recovery and just sort of crawled in my hole.  But, there’s a great big world out there that has nothing to do with cancer, recovery, or any of that, and I think the healthiest thing I could do would be spend some time thinking about it, writing about it, and enjoying life!

So, my friend Amanda posts these things called Friend Making Mondays on her blog:

http://completelyrandomsally.wordpress.com

Now, I realize it is actually Tuesday, but I didn’t see this until late last night, and thought I would chime in anyway, and invite any and all who read this to join in, too.  Here’s how it works:  please take a moment to answer this week’s question on your own blog then add your link in the comments sectionhere so we can all see your FMM questions and answers. Please invite your blog readers to add their links as well so everyone has to opportunity to be seen. The idea is to connect with other awesome bloggers so take a moment to post your own FMM post and comment on a couple of other posts. Now it’s time for the topic!

What is your favorite meal to prepare at home?  I would say soup, all kinds of homemade soup.  I love it because you can just clean out the fridge and the pantry and come up with something yummy and comforting.  I have one of my favorite add-as-you-go soup recipes on the Favorite Recipes page here.

Do you like to experiment in the kitchen, or do you prefer to stick to the basics?  I love to experiment, which is why I hate to bake – too exact!  When I get a new recipe, I try to make it exactly the way it’s written ONCE, and then start messing with it.

Do you have any tricks to share that help you reach your fruits and veggies goal for the day?  I like to sneak them into things – like the soup, but also into things like meat loaf or casseroles.  Since I try to eat low carb, I substitute cauliflower and zucchini and green beans for a lot of rice and pasta, which helps.

What’s the most interesting thing you made last week? Well, I confess I haven’t been cooking as much as usual, but we tried making low carb cream cheese pancakes last weekend, and they were pretty good!

How often do you watch cooking shows on TV  All the time.  I love them, and do pick up good ideas or tricks.

When you’re hungry, where are you most likely to look first? The refrigerator, or the pantry?  Probably the fridge for cheese, or sugar-free jello, or a bite of leftovers.

List a few healthy staples that can always be found in your kitchen.  Frozen chicken, usually some deli chicken, too.  Canned tuna and salmon. Bag salad. Eggs.  Protein shakes.

Are you motivated to cook at home even when you’re eating alone?  Sometimes.  Sometimes I do weird makeovers with the leftovers when I’m home alone – add new ingredients or mix stuff together.

How often do you try new recipes?  At least once or twice a month during normal times, a little bit less right now.

Well, that was fun.  Add your comments!

Quick update on the Herman Situation.  I had a bilateral mastectomy on March 15.  I planned on 1 week recovery.  My body (and everyone else) planned on at least 2 weeks.  My body (and everyone else) won.  I have been recuperating at home.  The pathology reports were good. The surgeon sounds pretty confident that he did a good job of removing all traces of Herman.  I have a little more post-surgery healing to do, and then I’ll do some follow up chemotherapy beginning in about 4 weeks and continuing for about 6-8 months.  Meanwhile, I’ve been back to work a little bit and the rest of the time have been working from home.

Some things I’ve discovered about working at home:

• The wardrobe is quiet comfortable, but you have to be careful that a well meaning friend, neighbor or co-worker doesn’t drop by and discover you in your pajamas at 3 pm, or answering emails while wearing old beat-up sweat pants and a t-shirt with the hem out.
• The lunch selections are better, especially if you have been the recipient of amazing gifts of leftover producing meals from some really great cooks.  Boy, can my friends and neighbors cook.
• The cat does not make a very good co-worker.  He drinks out of my water glass, knocks papers off my “desk,” and likes to sit on the computer keyboard.  He also refuses to answer the phone and he picks fights with the other coworkers (the dogs).  However, he’s cute and fluffy and soothing when he purrs.
• The dogs act as Office Security.  No one will bother me with those two furry doorkeepers barking and growling.  They are hilarious.
• It is not a bad thing to have nap space.  Offices everywhere should have nap space.
• Daytime television is no substitute for my smart, funny, and engaged coworkers.  Not even the cute kittens on animal planet.

Hopefully, I will be back on a more regular work schedule very soon.  Home is nice, but I miss everyone at Resurrection and need to quit watching the Cute Kittens and HGTV and put on my Big Girl clothes!

So, the Big Day is almost here.  M-Day?  Whatever. Details:  I check in at St. Luke’s on the Plaza at 10:30 Thursday morning. Surgery (double mastectomy and insertion of the port for the chemo) at 12:30.  Should take 3-4 hours.  A night or two in the hospital then home for about 10 days.

I sort of feel like I’m preparing for an expedition on the Amazon, or maybe a climb up Everest.  I’ve been spending hours at work trying to write down everything I do in a day, and how to do it, and where to find things, and clean out my messy drawers, and my messy desk, and my messy bookcases, so the temp doesn’t have to live in chaos. I keep making lists of things I might need (most of which, I don’t), might want (new underwear for the hospital, my mother would like that) and things like movies I’ve been wanting to watch, music that makes me happy, books to read, etc.  I keep going through my clothes trying to figure out what I’m going to wear during the healing period and not look too weird.

Of course, I have my brackets filled out for March Madness.

Even with my brackets completed, and new underwear, and music loaded, I don’t feel very ready.  Can you really get ready for something like this?  Maybe, but I don’t think the answer is in the packing, or the bracketing, or the music uploads. Mostly, these things are just ways to try and not think about it. I am anxious, even afraid sometimes.

Annie Lamott says that if you make friends with fear, it can’t rule you.  I don’t know how friendly I am feeling toward my fear, or toward Herman, but she also said that “courage is fear that has said its prayers.”  That, I can do.  I can also remember this:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.
And the waves shall not overcome you.
Do not fear because I have redeemed you.
I have called you by name and you are mine.
Isaiah 43

I am blessed to be known and loved by the God who created me and knows all about what is going on inside, who has called me by name and claimed me,  and listens to my prayers so that I can find that courage.  I am surrounded by loving family and friends who are praying for me, and good doctors and nurses who are going to take care of me.  Herman, having none of these things, is in serious trouble and will be belly up soon enough.

I hope I didn’t offend anyone with the cartoon-caption swearing. It is, however, quite descriptive of how I feel at the moment, and I thought that was better than typing it in English, French, or Yiddish.

The short story is, the third surgery was not successful. Herman is a stubborn, stubborn fellow. It will take a mastectomy and some chemotherapy to completely send him on his way. So, we are heading down a little bit longer road (or swim?) than we originally hoped for, but now that I’ve had a few days to process this information, I realize the journey is not the point. The point is, we live in amazing time that makes this journey even possible, and there is plenty of hope and healing at the end.

There are a few doctor’s appointments to be done, and some big decisions to be made, but those will happen pretty fast now, I think. I’ll keep everyone posted as best I can. Meanwhile, your prayers are appreciated more than you can know. If there is an up side to this yucky situation, it is confirming what I already knew – I am overly blessed with wonderful family, amazing friends, the best job ever working with the best people ever, and God’s constant presence and grace in my life.

And, for those of you who are up for some breast cancer humor, I saw a t-shirt yesterday that will definitely be added to my wardrobe some time in the near future. It said, “Of course they are fake…the real ones tried to kill me.” Laugh, c’mon, it’s funny! (Apologies to my sons, who are probably cringing at this moment.) 🙂