Here I sit, one week away from what I have been hoping is my last surgery. It's not a significant surgery. It's scheduled for 8:30 a.m. and I expect that I'll be home around lunch time. It's a simple procedure that is mostly cosmetic, just a re-adjustment of my one implant, making the "normal" one match the abnormal radiated side. The recovery is supposed to be on the painful side since the surgeon will be stitching the implant to my rib and there will be lots of pinching, pulling, and tugging as it heals. The surgeon and the second opinion I sought out both suggested that I'll have to restrict movement, lifting over 8 lbs., and not engage in anything physical for two to four weeks, but both also said I might find it really uncomfortable for up to 8 weeks.
I've been resigned to this for a while now. Although the "problem" isn't significant and truly is mostly aesthetic, I really do feel like a freak when my fake boobs can't even line up right. So I'm going through with it.
Lately, though, I've been noticing that I'm losing range of motion in my left arm. At first, I thought it was just me, just in my mind, just my perception. I guess I began noticing it when I was in Zumba class and tried to "windmill" my arms backwards. My right arm went back, my left rotated to the side, and I looked like a fool. Now, looking like a fool in Zumba isn't too disturbing to me. I'm rather used to it. As soon as the music starts, I look like a fool. ::shrug:: It's what I do best. It's fun and I'm by no means alone looking like a fool in Zumba class. But, for shizzle I'd like to be able to rotate my arm backwards. It's hard to feel remotely graceful or strong when your arm makes maybe a 105 degree angle from the side of your body instead of closer to 180. One side of me does backstroke. One side does the elementary backstroke. Unkind.
Now that my one exercise teacher has also noticed it, I no longer think it's in my head, which is making me paranoid. On the bright side, at least I no longer have to feel like I'm incapable of doing a push up because I'm incapable of gaining strength. It's because I'm incapable of doing a push up. Because this left side isn't working right. But will it ever? Is it going to get worse?
I suppose I need to make an appointment with someone about this. Surgeon? Radiation Onco? I don't have time to actually go to any appointments in the next week since I'm cramming in as many office hours and one-on-one opportunities as possible with my students before Spring Break. Then, I'm not ruining Spring Break any more than recuperation will ruin it, plus Amy and I are going out of town for most of it. Later this month, I have a check up with Dr. Mo, so I guess I'll start with her. I imagine, knowing her, there won't be a good answer or an easy path. On the bright side, her office is very good at making appointments for me, so at least I don't have to make all those calls myself.
I wonder what other damage has been done? So, now I worry whenever I'm out of breath, whenever I cough, whenever I am miserable doing cardio-work if my heart and lungs aren't damaged. I've had a little cold, sometimes I feel "chesty." Is that lung damage? Heart disease? When I'm exceptionally tired, I worry about heart failure. I've taken a nap for the last two days. What does that mean? Am I just tired? Or is it something more than that? Do I even want to know?
I bet it's back on the medical appointment merry-go-round within the month.
Showing posts with label changes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label changes. Show all posts
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Friday, November 5, 2010
Reality Bites right now
I've been really frustrated by my limitations lately.
In general, I think I look pretty good, and that's what people have been telling me. All of my doctors think I'm doing really well. I'm in better physical condition than I have been in years.
Like a lot of survivors of any sort, I think I've reprioritized a lot in my life. It's not unusual for people who have survived car accidents, severe illnesses, house fires, the death of a loved one, or any number of traumatic incidents to "reprioritze" their lives. Or at least that is what I'm claiming.
In reality, though, it's easy to alter certain aspects of my life when I can't focus on more than one thing at a time, can't remember a lot of what I "need" to do, can't keep track of time, can't stay up late, can't multi-task, can't reason clearly, can't read anything intellectually challenging....Basically when I can't be who I used to be, that makes it really easy for me to "take time" for exercise. When I'm doing that, I don't think about what else I should be doing. It's the only time I feel focused.
Indeed, it is the only time I'm focused.
I do believe the longest, most severe lingering effect of cancer treatment has been to leave me with a raging, full blown case of adult attention deficit disorder.
I might even go so far as to use the adjective "debilitating."
I'm barely holding it together teaching this semester. Not only does it take me hours to accomplish the most basic of tasks, such as preparing lessons or evaluating essays, but I frequently forget to do what needs to be done. I've missed important deadlines, for instance the deadline for submitting my Family Medical Leave paperwork for the time I'll need to take off this semester. I can barely manage to plan meals and get groceries (OK, I'm incapable of doing this and we rarely have well rounded meals). I'm always forgetting something I need to do for work, such as grade papers or upload an assignment sheet, or even develop an assignment sheet. I've had huge chunks of missing information in assignments, and I've even managed to consistently forget to assign students basic work. Um, yes. I totally omitted teaching about transitional devices to my weak, first year writers. I'll cram that in next week.
I feel like I have the attention of a gold fish. Heck, since I have HUGE memory deficits, each day is like a new trip around the fish bowl.
When I add this to my vastly decreased processing speed, I've come to realize I'm vastly different than I was before.
In the last week or so, especially as I've been getting more and more frustrated while working with students--frustrations arising because I just can't help them troubleshoot the way I used to and I find myself getting confused while working with them--I realize that I'm not coping with these new realizations very well. Partly, I'm not coping because I'm tired of struggling to cope all the damn time. It's exhausting. Partly, I'm not coping because I'm no longer eating as well as I should be, for no reason other than I've simply stopped exerting the energy needed to plan food. For the first half of the semester, I was planning my (very simple) lunches in advance. Now, I'm just not. Partly, I'm not coping because I'm just not coping. I'm tired of coping.
And I have to admit, that tube of Pringles I just ate were damn good, even though I feel like crap right now.
Perhaps, along with ADHD, a lower IQ, and mental processing deficits, I'm depressed. Probably. I'll think about that. Later. If I remember. After I remember to go to my office and pick up the 60 essays dropped off there earlier today, which I'd forgotten about until just now. At 10:20 p.m. Hopefully, I'll remember to (a) exercise tomorrow morning, (b) pick up those papers, (c) grade them, (d) and to take Tynan to a movie tomorrow. If I'm lucky, I'll remember (e) that I even wrote this entry. Seriously, that's how bad it has gotten.
In general, I think I look pretty good, and that's what people have been telling me. All of my doctors think I'm doing really well. I'm in better physical condition than I have been in years.
Like a lot of survivors of any sort, I think I've reprioritized a lot in my life. It's not unusual for people who have survived car accidents, severe illnesses, house fires, the death of a loved one, or any number of traumatic incidents to "reprioritze" their lives. Or at least that is what I'm claiming.
In reality, though, it's easy to alter certain aspects of my life when I can't focus on more than one thing at a time, can't remember a lot of what I "need" to do, can't keep track of time, can't stay up late, can't multi-task, can't reason clearly, can't read anything intellectually challenging....Basically when I can't be who I used to be, that makes it really easy for me to "take time" for exercise. When I'm doing that, I don't think about what else I should be doing. It's the only time I feel focused.
Indeed, it is the only time I'm focused.
I do believe the longest, most severe lingering effect of cancer treatment has been to leave me with a raging, full blown case of adult attention deficit disorder.
I might even go so far as to use the adjective "debilitating."
I'm barely holding it together teaching this semester. Not only does it take me hours to accomplish the most basic of tasks, such as preparing lessons or evaluating essays, but I frequently forget to do what needs to be done. I've missed important deadlines, for instance the deadline for submitting my Family Medical Leave paperwork for the time I'll need to take off this semester. I can barely manage to plan meals and get groceries (OK, I'm incapable of doing this and we rarely have well rounded meals). I'm always forgetting something I need to do for work, such as grade papers or upload an assignment sheet, or even develop an assignment sheet. I've had huge chunks of missing information in assignments, and I've even managed to consistently forget to assign students basic work. Um, yes. I totally omitted teaching about transitional devices to my weak, first year writers. I'll cram that in next week.
I feel like I have the attention of a gold fish. Heck, since I have HUGE memory deficits, each day is like a new trip around the fish bowl.
When I add this to my vastly decreased processing speed, I've come to realize I'm vastly different than I was before.
In the last week or so, especially as I've been getting more and more frustrated while working with students--frustrations arising because I just can't help them troubleshoot the way I used to and I find myself getting confused while working with them--I realize that I'm not coping with these new realizations very well. Partly, I'm not coping because I'm tired of struggling to cope all the damn time. It's exhausting. Partly, I'm not coping because I'm no longer eating as well as I should be, for no reason other than I've simply stopped exerting the energy needed to plan food. For the first half of the semester, I was planning my (very simple) lunches in advance. Now, I'm just not. Partly, I'm not coping because I'm just not coping. I'm tired of coping.
And I have to admit, that tube of Pringles I just ate were damn good, even though I feel like crap right now.
Perhaps, along with ADHD, a lower IQ, and mental processing deficits, I'm depressed. Probably. I'll think about that. Later. If I remember. After I remember to go to my office and pick up the 60 essays dropped off there earlier today, which I'd forgotten about until just now. At 10:20 p.m. Hopefully, I'll remember to (a) exercise tomorrow morning, (b) pick up those papers, (c) grade them, (d) and to take Tynan to a movie tomorrow. If I'm lucky, I'll remember (e) that I even wrote this entry. Seriously, that's how bad it has gotten.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Cold Headed Woman
No, not hard headed woman nor a soft hearted man, but a cold headed woman.
Something I've noticed since the weather has started to change from summer to fall is that I hate, hate, hate cold air on my head.
That seemed logical last winter, when I had no hair. In fact, kudos to bald people everywhere who live with that day in and day out, especially here in breezy NW Ohio.
However, it still bothers me. Chills me. Cold on my head never used to bother me. I despised wearing hats and tried to avoid doing so during the winter months. Yet now, the slightest breeze upon my head sends a chill down my spine and me looking for head covering.
Theoretically, I should be noticing less cold air in my head. After all, my hair is curlier and coarser than it was before. Therefore, if my general science knowledge is accurate, it should provide more insulation than my "old" hair. Plus, it's short and I wear it curly. I'd guess it is much more like sheep wool than ever before. Or a poodle's hair. And we all know that design is ideal for its insulating factors.
Yet, why am I miserable with the slightest breeze on my head. I frequently wish for a hood when I'm teaching. Right now, I'd wear a toque sitting at my kitchen table if I weren't so lazy that going to find one would be off putting. Perhaps I'm conserving my meagre energy supplies to keep hypothermia at bay.
::shrug::
Regardless, I'm cold. And I don't like it.
Something I've noticed since the weather has started to change from summer to fall is that I hate, hate, hate cold air on my head.
That seemed logical last winter, when I had no hair. In fact, kudos to bald people everywhere who live with that day in and day out, especially here in breezy NW Ohio.
However, it still bothers me. Chills me. Cold on my head never used to bother me. I despised wearing hats and tried to avoid doing so during the winter months. Yet now, the slightest breeze upon my head sends a chill down my spine and me looking for head covering.
Theoretically, I should be noticing less cold air in my head. After all, my hair is curlier and coarser than it was before. Therefore, if my general science knowledge is accurate, it should provide more insulation than my "old" hair. Plus, it's short and I wear it curly. I'd guess it is much more like sheep wool than ever before. Or a poodle's hair. And we all know that design is ideal for its insulating factors.
Yet, why am I miserable with the slightest breeze on my head. I frequently wish for a hood when I'm teaching. Right now, I'd wear a toque sitting at my kitchen table if I weren't so lazy that going to find one would be off putting. Perhaps I'm conserving my meagre energy supplies to keep hypothermia at bay.
::shrug::
Regardless, I'm cold. And I don't like it.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thought for the Day (09/24/2010)
from Today's Daily Om:
Letting the Curves Take You
control
Trying to maintain control in this life is a bit like trying to maintain control on a roller coaster. The ride has its own logic and is going to go its own way, regardless of how tightly you grip the bar. There is a thrill and a power in simply surrendering to the ride and fully feeling the ups and downs of it, letting the curves take you rather than fighting them. When you fight the ride, resisting what’s happening at every turn, your whole being becomes tense and anxiety is your close companion. When you go with the ride, accepting what you cannot control, freedom and joy will inevitably arise.
As with so many seemingly simple things in life, it is not always easy to let go, even of the things we know we can’t control. Most of us feel a great discomfort with the givens of this life, one of which is the fact that much of the time we have no control over what happens. Sometimes this awareness comes only when we have a stark encounter with this fact, and all our attempts to be in control are revealed to be unnecessary burdens. We can also cultivate this awareness in ourselves gently, by simply making surrender a daily practice. At the end of our meditation, we might bow, saying, “I surrender to this life.” This simple mantra can be repeated as necessary throughout the day, when we find ourselves metaphorically gripping the safety bar.
We can give in to our fear and anxiety, or we can surrender to this great mystery with courage. When we see people on a roller coaster, we see that there are those with their faces tight with fear and then there are those that smile broadly, with their hands in the air, carried through the ride on a wave of freedom and joy. This powerful image reminds us that often the only control we have is choosing how we are going to respond to the ride.
Letting the Curves Take You
control
Trying to maintain control in this life is a bit like trying to maintain control on a roller coaster. The ride has its own logic and is going to go its own way, regardless of how tightly you grip the bar. There is a thrill and a power in simply surrendering to the ride and fully feeling the ups and downs of it, letting the curves take you rather than fighting them. When you fight the ride, resisting what’s happening at every turn, your whole being becomes tense and anxiety is your close companion. When you go with the ride, accepting what you cannot control, freedom and joy will inevitably arise.
As with so many seemingly simple things in life, it is not always easy to let go, even of the things we know we can’t control. Most of us feel a great discomfort with the givens of this life, one of which is the fact that much of the time we have no control over what happens. Sometimes this awareness comes only when we have a stark encounter with this fact, and all our attempts to be in control are revealed to be unnecessary burdens. We can also cultivate this awareness in ourselves gently, by simply making surrender a daily practice. At the end of our meditation, we might bow, saying, “I surrender to this life.” This simple mantra can be repeated as necessary throughout the day, when we find ourselves metaphorically gripping the safety bar.
We can give in to our fear and anxiety, or we can surrender to this great mystery with courage. When we see people on a roller coaster, we see that there are those with their faces tight with fear and then there are those that smile broadly, with their hands in the air, carried through the ride on a wave of freedom and joy. This powerful image reminds us that often the only control we have is choosing how we are going to respond to the ride.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Herceptin Infusion #15
Two infusions left!!! I'm so psyched. October will be the last month of active treatments. It's about time!! I know a lot of people say herceptin is no big deal, and in comparison to active chemo, it really is a walk in the park; however, it's like a walk in a park that has fallen into ruin, where the swings are missing seats, where the grass is strewn with trash and has more bare patches than grassy patches, and where the trash cans are stinky and surrounded by flies.
Yes, it's still a park, but....
So, I'm all burbly and tired and bitchy, all of which is compounded by the lunch I ate, I'm sure, which consisted of a turkey burger with avocado, cheese, and bacon. I so rarely eat meat of any sort any more. If it wasn't the lunch that is making me feel so horrid, then the reactions I'm getting to the herceptin are getting worse each treatment. I'm going with the "it was the lunch" theory for now.
Yet, were it the herceptin, I'd only have to experience this two more times in my life. If it's the lunch, then....damn.
I also had an appointment with Dr. Mo today. I so heart spending time with her. A good doctor will keep you alive as long as possible. A great doctor enjoys living with you, you know?
Of course, she's so busy and I'm no so low priority that I first had to see her practice doctor and this physical therapist she now has on staff. In doing so, I got to share my story at least twice. And they all deemed me doing well, doing wonderfully, fine, excellent, spectacular!
I could have told them that.
The practice doctor was concerned that I'd lost 9 pounds in 9 weeks. However, since I've been working out and eating less, that's actually rather ideal and not a sign of cancer (personally, I think he was reassuring himself, not me when he said that). He was concerned that I'm still fatigued and that my last labs showed that I'm anemic and have micro-blah blah blah hemoglobin yadda yadda yadda. At that point I mentioned that I have thalassimia and that's all normal. Furthermore, I don't feel anemic fatigue...I'm well versed in that feeling having had it all my life. However, not being an MD or someone else who knows what she's talking about, he ordered more labs and had written a prescription for iron...
Gotta love Dr. Mo, she looked pointedly at him when she came in the room and asked, "Didn't Dawn tell you she has thalassimia and her numbers were, therefore, normal for her. She can get labs done in the spring when we see her again. Now, just so you know in the future, you might be tempted to prescribe iron for someone with her numbers, but that is exactly what one doesn't do for people with thalassimia."
Vindication is an awesome feeling.
She then said that she could tell I was doing well, so let's not waste time with that. What changes am I frustrated with now that it should all be over and people probably think it's all over.
God bless her.
She then validated everything I've been feeling and frustrated with. The fatigue, she says is worse for women over 40 and under 70 who go through treatment. She also said it was perfectly normal to feel 10 years older, not just in energy level, but in joints and muscles, and **20** years older mentally.
I mentioned that I'm still having problems with my feet, and she said to use this opportunity to shop for all new shoes and better quality socks. When I told her that was what I'd been doing, she asked me for brand names and stores (she, too, has foot issues and finds many shoes uncomfortable). She told the practice doctor that this was all important information and that he might need to get his female nurses to solicit such information from female patients. And then the information needed to be passed on to his nurses so they could help other women with similar problems.
I then told her that the worst problem was my diminished cognitive capacity and not only does it make me sad, but it's really affecting my mood. She said that cognitive diminishment is now "in the books" and that this area will probably get some of the most rigorous research in the future, now that they've gotten nausea and other chemo side effects controlled. She suggested giving it a full year before I really start to worry, suggested some ways to work with it--such as exercise and sleep, reading and some other forms of stimulation--but also said that the women who notice it the most are the ones who had the most to lose, which is a nice compliment, I suppose, but still really sucks.
Although the practice doctor didn't think that Ambien would help me with this issue, Dr. Mo agreed with me that if I were to be able to go to bed and immediately fall asleep, guaranteeing a little more sleep each night with less chance of awakening, I'd find that I'd function better at work and maybe not be so volatile with my children.
Validation is nice.
So, overall, everything is going well. I don't see Dr. Mo again until MARCH which is sort of scary, but also wonderful.
I have two more herceptin infusions. And my reconstruction surgery three weeks after the last one, and then, for all intents and purposes, it's all over and I can pick up the remaining bits and pieces and be the new me.
Meanwhile, I continue to prepare for running a half marathon in November as my pre-surgery psych-up.
Yes, it's still a park, but....
So, I'm all burbly and tired and bitchy, all of which is compounded by the lunch I ate, I'm sure, which consisted of a turkey burger with avocado, cheese, and bacon. I so rarely eat meat of any sort any more. If it wasn't the lunch that is making me feel so horrid, then the reactions I'm getting to the herceptin are getting worse each treatment. I'm going with the "it was the lunch" theory for now.
Yet, were it the herceptin, I'd only have to experience this two more times in my life. If it's the lunch, then....damn.
I also had an appointment with Dr. Mo today. I so heart spending time with her. A good doctor will keep you alive as long as possible. A great doctor enjoys living with you, you know?
Of course, she's so busy and I'm no so low priority that I first had to see her practice doctor and this physical therapist she now has on staff. In doing so, I got to share my story at least twice. And they all deemed me doing well, doing wonderfully, fine, excellent, spectacular!
I could have told them that.
The practice doctor was concerned that I'd lost 9 pounds in 9 weeks. However, since I've been working out and eating less, that's actually rather ideal and not a sign of cancer (personally, I think he was reassuring himself, not me when he said that). He was concerned that I'm still fatigued and that my last labs showed that I'm anemic and have micro-blah blah blah hemoglobin yadda yadda yadda. At that point I mentioned that I have thalassimia and that's all normal. Furthermore, I don't feel anemic fatigue...I'm well versed in that feeling having had it all my life. However, not being an MD or someone else who knows what she's talking about, he ordered more labs and had written a prescription for iron...
Gotta love Dr. Mo, she looked pointedly at him when she came in the room and asked, "Didn't Dawn tell you she has thalassimia and her numbers were, therefore, normal for her. She can get labs done in the spring when we see her again. Now, just so you know in the future, you might be tempted to prescribe iron for someone with her numbers, but that is exactly what one doesn't do for people with thalassimia."
Vindication is an awesome feeling.
She then said that she could tell I was doing well, so let's not waste time with that. What changes am I frustrated with now that it should all be over and people probably think it's all over.
God bless her.
She then validated everything I've been feeling and frustrated with. The fatigue, she says is worse for women over 40 and under 70 who go through treatment. She also said it was perfectly normal to feel 10 years older, not just in energy level, but in joints and muscles, and **20** years older mentally.
I mentioned that I'm still having problems with my feet, and she said to use this opportunity to shop for all new shoes and better quality socks. When I told her that was what I'd been doing, she asked me for brand names and stores (she, too, has foot issues and finds many shoes uncomfortable). She told the practice doctor that this was all important information and that he might need to get his female nurses to solicit such information from female patients. And then the information needed to be passed on to his nurses so they could help other women with similar problems.
I then told her that the worst problem was my diminished cognitive capacity and not only does it make me sad, but it's really affecting my mood. She said that cognitive diminishment is now "in the books" and that this area will probably get some of the most rigorous research in the future, now that they've gotten nausea and other chemo side effects controlled. She suggested giving it a full year before I really start to worry, suggested some ways to work with it--such as exercise and sleep, reading and some other forms of stimulation--but also said that the women who notice it the most are the ones who had the most to lose, which is a nice compliment, I suppose, but still really sucks.
Although the practice doctor didn't think that Ambien would help me with this issue, Dr. Mo agreed with me that if I were to be able to go to bed and immediately fall asleep, guaranteeing a little more sleep each night with less chance of awakening, I'd find that I'd function better at work and maybe not be so volatile with my children.
Validation is nice.
So, overall, everything is going well. I don't see Dr. Mo again until MARCH which is sort of scary, but also wonderful.
I have two more herceptin infusions. And my reconstruction surgery three weeks after the last one, and then, for all intents and purposes, it's all over and I can pick up the remaining bits and pieces and be the new me.
Meanwhile, I continue to prepare for running a half marathon in November as my pre-surgery psych-up.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Life in the "Normal" lane
So, I've been absent from here for a while. It's not that I haven't thought about blog posts. In fact, I regularly compose them in my head. It's not that I don't sit down at the computer any more. Those of you on facebook know that's certainly not true.
I don't really know what it is that keeps me from blogging, other than it is harder and harder to sustain the intellectual energy required for longer pieces of discourse. I can snap off facebook updates easily, probably too easily. Certainly, I do that too frequently. However, crafting and sustaining coherent larger pieces of discourse just seems beyond my capabilities lately. In fact, I'm barely able to sustain coherence long enough to get the writing done that I need to do for work.
This is partially due to my cognitive capacity being damaged from chemo, for sure.
But even more so, I think it is due to the fact that there have been so many changes lately, over the past four months or so.
For one thing, I'm back at work, so I have to expend energy in that direction. More on that in another entry. For another, I'm going to bed a lot earlier, with the exception of tonight. For yet another, I've been getting up earlier in the mornings, but I'm not yet capable of figuring out what to do with myself during that time, being newly converted to being awake during the early hours. Furthermore, I'm no longer watching much tv, which is when I used to do quite a bit of writing. I just can't bring myself to watch tv any more. Sort of like those people who eat a favorite food to the point it makes them sick and then can't eat it any more, I no longer can really tolerate watching tv any more. I don't even have much of a desire for any of my favorite shows, to the point I can't even order the dvds from Netflix. I'm also using quite a bit more time exercising, so that detracts from the time I used to be able to devote to my blog. In fact, it's not unusual for me to be physically active for two or more hours a day. For instance, last week, I met a friend and ran in the morning before going to teach, taught from 9:30-2:30, then did a 2 hour bike ride, and went for a pedicure. Sure, it was only 7:00 by the time all of that was finished, but when one is typically heading for bed by 9:30 or 10:00, there just doesn't seem to be enough time to blog.
And I do miss it. I compose entries in my head whilst running and biking. I will admit that I don't while in the midst of the exercise classes I've been taking. Mostly what runs through my head during those is not fit to be printed where it might be read by those with tender sensibilities. Maybe those who have survived basic training in the military could read it, but the rest of you are probably better off without.
But the changes a friend asked me to write about, the new normal, are still becoming apparent.
For one, I no longer enjoy or crave animal flesh. While not by any means a vegetarian, I certainly won't go out of my way for meat and rarely consume it. In fact, last week, I made lasagna for Sunday evening dinner and bought the Morningstar Farms version for myself because the idea of the meat in the lasagna just turned me off at a deep, visceral level.
Second, I'm really enjoying life quite a bit and I'm generally not being bothered by little things that used to bother me. When I am bothered by little things, those kinds of things that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things, I'm much more aware that I'm being bothered by silliness and recognize it for what it is.
Third, I have gotten quite a bit stronger. In March, I could barely sustain 60 seconds of jogging followed by 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes. Last week, I ran 4.5 miles without any walking and wasn't tired. I stopped because my feet hurt and because my back hurt. OK, so "ran" is probably a misnomer for what I did. But I can certainly say I was truly "jogging."
And, finally, as of today, I've officially dropped yet another pants (jeans) size. That's about 7 sizes in two years and probably 50 lbs in the past....um....15-18 months.
But really, I have a lot more musing rolling around in my head, and someday, I'm sure I'll sweep them into a corner, sort them out, and turn them into something sharable.
I promise.
But meanwhile, off to bed.
I don't really know what it is that keeps me from blogging, other than it is harder and harder to sustain the intellectual energy required for longer pieces of discourse. I can snap off facebook updates easily, probably too easily. Certainly, I do that too frequently. However, crafting and sustaining coherent larger pieces of discourse just seems beyond my capabilities lately. In fact, I'm barely able to sustain coherence long enough to get the writing done that I need to do for work.
This is partially due to my cognitive capacity being damaged from chemo, for sure.
But even more so, I think it is due to the fact that there have been so many changes lately, over the past four months or so.
For one thing, I'm back at work, so I have to expend energy in that direction. More on that in another entry. For another, I'm going to bed a lot earlier, with the exception of tonight. For yet another, I've been getting up earlier in the mornings, but I'm not yet capable of figuring out what to do with myself during that time, being newly converted to being awake during the early hours. Furthermore, I'm no longer watching much tv, which is when I used to do quite a bit of writing. I just can't bring myself to watch tv any more. Sort of like those people who eat a favorite food to the point it makes them sick and then can't eat it any more, I no longer can really tolerate watching tv any more. I don't even have much of a desire for any of my favorite shows, to the point I can't even order the dvds from Netflix. I'm also using quite a bit more time exercising, so that detracts from the time I used to be able to devote to my blog. In fact, it's not unusual for me to be physically active for two or more hours a day. For instance, last week, I met a friend and ran in the morning before going to teach, taught from 9:30-2:30, then did a 2 hour bike ride, and went for a pedicure. Sure, it was only 7:00 by the time all of that was finished, but when one is typically heading for bed by 9:30 or 10:00, there just doesn't seem to be enough time to blog.
And I do miss it. I compose entries in my head whilst running and biking. I will admit that I don't while in the midst of the exercise classes I've been taking. Mostly what runs through my head during those is not fit to be printed where it might be read by those with tender sensibilities. Maybe those who have survived basic training in the military could read it, but the rest of you are probably better off without.
But the changes a friend asked me to write about, the new normal, are still becoming apparent.
For one, I no longer enjoy or crave animal flesh. While not by any means a vegetarian, I certainly won't go out of my way for meat and rarely consume it. In fact, last week, I made lasagna for Sunday evening dinner and bought the Morningstar Farms version for myself because the idea of the meat in the lasagna just turned me off at a deep, visceral level.
Second, I'm really enjoying life quite a bit and I'm generally not being bothered by little things that used to bother me. When I am bothered by little things, those kinds of things that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things, I'm much more aware that I'm being bothered by silliness and recognize it for what it is.
Third, I have gotten quite a bit stronger. In March, I could barely sustain 60 seconds of jogging followed by 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes. Last week, I ran 4.5 miles without any walking and wasn't tired. I stopped because my feet hurt and because my back hurt. OK, so "ran" is probably a misnomer for what I did. But I can certainly say I was truly "jogging."
And, finally, as of today, I've officially dropped yet another pants (jeans) size. That's about 7 sizes in two years and probably 50 lbs in the past....um....15-18 months.
But really, I have a lot more musing rolling around in my head, and someday, I'm sure I'll sweep them into a corner, sort them out, and turn them into something sharable.
I promise.
But meanwhile, off to bed.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Metamorphosis Journal
I'm not sure what this activity was really called...maybe an "Intention Journal" or something like that....maybe "journal" wasn't in the title at all; however, it's an activity we did at the yoga retreat.
I'll just admit up front that I'm art opposed and artistically oppositional. I don't do crafts. However, one HUGE change that has come about over the past year is that I'm really super attracted to color now and a way I wasn't before. Odd, but true. Even more so, I'm drawn to colors that I previously found annoying, such as bright colors.
So, when I was presented with this activity at the retreat, I was less than enthusiastic. I had set as my personal intent to be receptive...palms turned up during meditation and all that to receive, so I didn't totally discount the activity. But I wasn't sure what I was going to do.
Yet, I started cutting as instructed, just focusing on images that appealed to me. It was a little too touchy feely for my comfort zone, but heck, I was 0ver 700 miles from home, doing yoga with strangers. If that wasn't the place to explore outside my comfort zone, nothing is. So I did.
Anyway, as I've said in at least one other blog entry, I've been having trouble formalizing and articulating how I've changed over the past year. Working on this project, though, helped with that.
The interesting thing is that I had images sorted, but they just weren't coming together on the page for me, until it occurred to me that I had to create backgrounds. Then it all fell together.
I've only done four pages total, but I intend to set time aside over the next few weeks and months to continue working on this project.
The cover has the Chinese symbol for 'live' on it in green glitter and the quote says "The purer the attention I can pay to whatever I happen to be doing or working on at the time, the fuller my life life experience."
Inside the front cover:
The page representing the more active me....and my physical goals (as I am far from "buff" and may never actually become so). I especially like the quote on the bottom right that says, "Someone who's got what you've got is out doing what you're not."
Spiritual pursuits, calming, centering...
I'll just admit up front that I'm art opposed and artistically oppositional. I don't do crafts. However, one HUGE change that has come about over the past year is that I'm really super attracted to color now and a way I wasn't before. Odd, but true. Even more so, I'm drawn to colors that I previously found annoying, such as bright colors.
So, when I was presented with this activity at the retreat, I was less than enthusiastic. I had set as my personal intent to be receptive...palms turned up during meditation and all that to receive, so I didn't totally discount the activity. But I wasn't sure what I was going to do.
Yet, I started cutting as instructed, just focusing on images that appealed to me. It was a little too touchy feely for my comfort zone, but heck, I was 0ver 700 miles from home, doing yoga with strangers. If that wasn't the place to explore outside my comfort zone, nothing is. So I did.
Anyway, as I've said in at least one other blog entry, I've been having trouble formalizing and articulating how I've changed over the past year. Working on this project, though, helped with that.
The interesting thing is that I had images sorted, but they just weren't coming together on the page for me, until it occurred to me that I had to create backgrounds. Then it all fell together.
I've only done four pages total, but I intend to set time aside over the next few weeks and months to continue working on this project.
The cover has the Chinese symbol for 'live' on it in green glitter and the quote says "The purer the attention I can pay to whatever I happen to be doing or working on at the time, the fuller my life life experience."
Inside the front cover:
The page representing the more active me....and my physical goals (as I am far from "buff" and may never actually become so). I especially like the quote on the bottom right that says, "Someone who's got what you've got is out doing what you're not."
The yoga page...after all, it was a yoga retreat and the activity was in the "yoga off the mat" time slot. I am going to be more diligent about my practice.
Spiritual pursuits, calming, centering...
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
A Second Chance
My friend, Katie Granju, gets no second chances with her son, Henry.
However, for those of us who are still in this world and have children, friends, family, spouses, lovers, neighbors, and acquaintances in this world, her recent blog post is a must read. Do it now. Don't procrastinate.
We DO have second chances.
However, for those of us who are still in this world and have children, friends, family, spouses, lovers, neighbors, and acquaintances in this world, her recent blog post is a must read. Do it now. Don't procrastinate.
We DO have second chances.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Herceptin Infusion #13
So, a year ago, I was heavily in the head swirling, crazy ass early days of cancer crap. Those were certainly maybe the worst time of the whole year. I'm guessing, based on email records, that I first met with my onco on July 29th. I know I had my port put in on Aug. 10.
So, on Aug 3, a year ago today, I was in a really weird place...looking at all of what was ahead of me as an unhappy, scary, adventure that I was just going to have to suck up and do.
So, I did 10 total rounds of chemo, six of which included herceptin. Now, I'm wrapping up the chemical part of all this, by finishing out the 17 total herceptin infusions I need. Basically, that's a year, but I took a several month break from herceptin while I got to enjoy the shittiness of OTHER cardio toxic chemo drugs over winter.
Yesterday, I got my 13th herceptin infusion. In general, the only side effects are that I get irrationally bitchy and experience a few days of increased fatigue. The previous infusion caused a couple of days of nausea. But overall, it's not bad. In fact, many women with recurrences get herceptin for the rest of their lives.
By this point, I breeze in, chat up the wonderful infusion nurses, breeze out.
Yesterday, I just felt so good. The nurses always start with a medical history, and I was able to report absolutely NO problems. I've even had less neuropathy. Mostly, the painful part is gone. No more shooting, stabbing pains when I least expect them. Usually. Fatigue, yes. I know given my current level of activity, that is hard to understand.
Sure, I've been kayaking, biking, running. I've been organizing my house. I'm going on a 3 day yoga retreat this weekend. But what people don't see is that I don't do a whole lot more. I'm not cooking dinner for my family. I'm not cleaning house on the days I exercise. And I'm really not exercising much on the days I clean house. Until Aug. 1, I wasn't cleaning house. I'm not organizing people's schedules, nor dealing with any professional responsibilities. I eat. I sleep. I exercise. I go to movies. And, well, that's about all.
I watch tv and hang out on my laptop.
I chillax at Portage Quarry and hang at the City Pool in the evenings.
And that's about all I can do.
The mental fatigue and fuzziness is the worst. But more about all of that later.
All in all, though, I feel great. I love my new hair. While it isn't perfect, I really like my new body. I would keep my rock hard, tissue expander boobs for ever if I could. Really. I really, really like them. Really. I'm happy with them.
Really.
I'm starting to be able to verbalize some pretty significant changes in me.
But best of all, from two infusions ago--six weeks ago--I've lost 7 pounds.
It doesn't feel like it. I don't feel any different. But, according to their records, I've lost 7 pounds.
And that makes me happy.
So, on Aug 3, a year ago today, I was in a really weird place...looking at all of what was ahead of me as an unhappy, scary, adventure that I was just going to have to suck up and do.
So, I did 10 total rounds of chemo, six of which included herceptin. Now, I'm wrapping up the chemical part of all this, by finishing out the 17 total herceptin infusions I need. Basically, that's a year, but I took a several month break from herceptin while I got to enjoy the shittiness of OTHER cardio toxic chemo drugs over winter.
Yesterday, I got my 13th herceptin infusion. In general, the only side effects are that I get irrationally bitchy and experience a few days of increased fatigue. The previous infusion caused a couple of days of nausea. But overall, it's not bad. In fact, many women with recurrences get herceptin for the rest of their lives.
By this point, I breeze in, chat up the wonderful infusion nurses, breeze out.
Yesterday, I just felt so good. The nurses always start with a medical history, and I was able to report absolutely NO problems. I've even had less neuropathy. Mostly, the painful part is gone. No more shooting, stabbing pains when I least expect them. Usually. Fatigue, yes. I know given my current level of activity, that is hard to understand.
Sure, I've been kayaking, biking, running. I've been organizing my house. I'm going on a 3 day yoga retreat this weekend. But what people don't see is that I don't do a whole lot more. I'm not cooking dinner for my family. I'm not cleaning house on the days I exercise. And I'm really not exercising much on the days I clean house. Until Aug. 1, I wasn't cleaning house. I'm not organizing people's schedules, nor dealing with any professional responsibilities. I eat. I sleep. I exercise. I go to movies. And, well, that's about all.
I watch tv and hang out on my laptop.
I chillax at Portage Quarry and hang at the City Pool in the evenings.
And that's about all I can do.
The mental fatigue and fuzziness is the worst. But more about all of that later.
All in all, though, I feel great. I love my new hair. While it isn't perfect, I really like my new body. I would keep my rock hard, tissue expander boobs for ever if I could. Really. I really, really like them. Really. I'm happy with them.
Really.
I'm starting to be able to verbalize some pretty significant changes in me.
But best of all, from two infusions ago--six weeks ago--I've lost 7 pounds.
It doesn't feel like it. I don't feel any different. But, according to their records, I've lost 7 pounds.
And that makes me happy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)