Heat!

My goodness I have ignored this blog for a long time!  I could say a lot about that and why, and I probably will at some point; however, just accept my apology and lets move on, shall we?

Yesterday on Facebook, I threatened to blog about the current heatwave sweeping much of the nation, especially the midwest (where I am) and the east coast.  I don't want to get into the Climate Change "debate" as, in my mind, there is no debate.  The climate is changing, changing rapidly and irrevocably, and humans are playing a huge role in that, regardless of whether or not we are also in a "normal" cycle.  All of us in developed, consumer based societies are implicated, even if we are not as much to blame as corporations and governments (however, we do elect our government in the USA and we also vote with our dollars when it comes to corporations).  In short, we--especially here in the USA--have become complacent, comforting ourselves with thoughts of cloth grocery bags, more fuel efficient cars, and EnergyStar labels on our appliances. Very few of us are truly consuming less.  In fact, most of us use MORE energy when we procure something that uses LESS.

But, that's not what I want to contemplate today.  Today, I want to contemplate the heat.

There's no denying, it has been hot, hot, hot this summer.  In fact, we have had record breaking temperatures since March, right on the heels of a warm winter.

I don't want to hide the fact that I don't mind the heat since I have completed treatment.  This might be one of the only true "silver linings" to come out of my cancer experience.  As I wrapped up treatment (which consisted of 6 rounds of chemo, followed by a double mastectomy, followed by 4 more rounds of chemo, followed by 6 weeks of radiation, I craved radiant heat.  It's not that I was constantly cold, although the cold was much more chilling.  It's that I craved the radiant heat.  At one point, after my second batch of chemo and before radiation, I was in a motel and found myself dragging the easy chair from the room into the bathroom to sit under the heat lamp just to feel the heat radiating down on my.  Once the weather warmed up, I had to be out in the sun and heat, even though it meant wearing long sleeves and a hat.  I'd sit there, with big drops of sweat dripping down my face, loving ever second of it.

I also don't mind sweating, and I used to hate it.  I don't mind exercising when it is hot and getting all sweaty. In fact, I rather like it.

This is all a huge change for me.  I used to despise being hot and sweaty.  When asked, I'd say I'd rather be cold than hot.  When cold, I can do things to get warmer.  However, when hot...well...there's only so many items of clothing that can be removed, for instance.  I remember some mighty miserable times when we didn't have central AC.  Come to think of it, I've not had AC more years of my life than I have had AC.  There were summers early in our marriage that my husband and I would go out to dinner just to experience AC.  I believe it was the summer of '88 when we practically lived at one particular pizza place here in town because their AC was minimal, which made going home less uncomfortable (plus they served the best variety of beers here in town).  There were summers past when the boys and I would go to movies we didn't want to see just to spend 2.5 hours in AC.  There have been times past when all or part of the family has spent the night at the homes of friends who had AC.

I'm not going to ever deny that AC has made the hot times much more pleasant.  Right now, it's 104F outside while I'm lounging comfortably on the couch with a a heat generating laptop, watching a Harry Potter marathon on tv with the Feral Third and one of his friends.  We are quite comfortable. We've been sleeping well.  Our appetites have not been affected by the heat.  We are comfortable.

And trust me, when I just had to run an errand out of the house, the heat was oppressive.  Oh, by the time I was finished and back home, I was finding the heat less oppressive and finding it somewhat appealing.  I contemplated sitting on the patio and writing this.

I've been running late at night.  Most sane people run or exercise early in the day when the heat hits dangerous levels; however, as appealing as that sounds to me in the evenings, I'm no morning person.  Every morning, my alarm goes off--the alarm I set with the idea of beginning a morning exercise routine this summer--and ever morning I turn it off.  I want to be a morning person, but clearly I am not.

So I've been going out at night, after dark, later some nights than others.  That's when I started thinking about the heat.  I know I've commented on this before, perhaps in other fora, but AC has made us comfortable at a cost.

For starters, if we accept the premise that Global Climate Change is happening and that massive weather events will continue to happen, and happen with increasing frequency, in the future, one loss we, as a society, have experienced is a loss of knowledge. Just a few days ago, a "freak" storm left thou  sands in my area without electricity.  A week or so before that, hundreds of thousands were left without electricity for days on end.  I'd hazard that most millennials don't know how to amuse themselves without electricity, but even fewer know how to "beat the heat" without AC.  My mother's generation did.  Of course, they'd tell us that it was easier with electricity, especially fans, and, truthfully, there is only so much that can be done to alleviate the discomfort of extreme heat without electricity, but there are some tricks.  Many of those tricks won't work in most modern houses.  Most contemporary houses, built since the 1950s and later, simply do not cool easily. They are designed for AC.  They don't have windows that open from the bottom and the top (although in more houses that is becoming common and with replacement windows many are getting this feature), houses no longer have shading built in via overhanging eaves, many neighborhoods no longer have shade trees, and many, many houses are not set up for cross ventilation.  Those ugly window awnings that I always hated on houses served a vital purpose.


A second loss is the HUGE loss of community because of AC.  When we didn't have AC, and it got really hot, we'd spend evenings outside where it was cool.  That's why older houses have porches...outdoor living spaces.  When I was quite young, we lived in a big, older house in Lakewood, Ohio.  It had a big front porch and a large back screened in porch.  The house at one time had had two upstairs porches as well (they still existed, but for safety reasons the doors had been nailed shut). There were nights we all slept out on the screened in porch.  There were afternoons of board games, crafts, and other activities which didn't require much movement during the dog days of summer. 


The other day, some college students in our neighborhood who live in a house w/o AC were sitting in a baby pool, on their porch.  Had they had AC, there is a good chance that the 4 or 5 of them would not have spent that time socializing together.  And that's what I notice when I go out running at night. All the porches are empty.  Everyone is in their homes.  Except for those few houses without AC...those people are in their yards and sitting on their porches.

During the day, kids aren't out playing.  The streets are devoid of pedestrians (moreso than usual). We live in fear of the heat.  It's a true danger for those in ill health and those who don't respect it, but healthy children can go out and play when it's 100F, especially now when we have a plethora of hydration bottles and other systems to choose from. I'm not saying that they should be playing full blown games of soccer in the middle of the day, but I also have faith that they will self regulate, seek out shade, play quiet games.  Perhaps self-regulation is another loss.  People keep their kids indoors when it's too cold and when it's too hot.

The other evening, as the Feral Third and I were leaving the city pool, I noticed that the park was empty.  At 7 pm, no one was playing basketball, no one was on the roller hockey rink, the playground was deserted.  The skate park had kids in it, but those kids are there rain or shine, snow or sleet.  The pool was unexpectedly uncrowded as well.  Of course, why leave your house?

Of course, it's no secret that the more time one spends in AC, the more uncomfortable the heat is.  I noticed that as soon as we turned our AC on the other day.  Prior to that, we all ate two meals a day out on our shaded patio.  If I asked the boys to go out there now for supper, they'd revolt.

By no means am I dissing AC.  I'm very thankful we have it.  I'm appreciative of it.  I'm thankful we have window units for the upstairs bedrooms (they heating/cooling duct work was never installed up there).  I'm also, despite its many flaws, appreciative of the age of our house and that it's in an older neighborhood with tall, mature trees.  The cross ventilation works really well, especially with a fans to help.  At the same time, I look forward to the temps dropping to the mid to upper 80s this week so that I can turn the AC off and reconnect with the world.

And, truthfully, I miss the days when we were living in an house without central AC and with a huge, older window unit that cooled precisely 2 rooms in the downstairs but was so expensive to run that we were loathe to run it for many hours of the day.  Mid-day would find the boys either on the porch with cold drinks, reading, or we'd spread out blankets in the shade of the trees out back and play games, read, and sometimes even nap.  As a family, we'd hang out around the picnic table until after dark. These days, two of the boys are too old to want to engage in those activities, that's undeniable.  After all, one no longer lives at home (although he does come here to suck up our cable access, he has his own AC).  But the Feral Third would be more inclined to get off the couch, turn off the video games, and get outside if inside weren't so comfortable.  He'd be more inclined to ride his bike across town to the neighborhoods where his friends live if the inside weren't so comfortable.  He'd not be so inclined to waste the day away sleeping if doing so weren't so comfortable.

There is much to be said about AC and the heat.  When I go to bed tonight, I'll be very grateful for it. As I sit here, watching tv and typing, I'm thankful.  But I'm also aware that it has changed the face of society and not all in good ways.  And I fear that in the very near future, some of us will (again) be shocked when we are forced to live without it.

This had better be worth it

$3,000, give or take, of pills.

Tonight I start taking Tykerb.  I've read it's better to take it at night for several reasons: (1) it can't be taken within an hour either way of eating; (2) one might sleep through the nausea; (3) it's easier to deal with diarrhea during sleeping hours than daytime hours.

I told the younger two boys over dinner tonight.  The Middle was already aware, being pretty active on Facebook and having been following along.  The Feral Third was shocked and expressed quite a bit of dismay, but was pretty quickly soothed when I explained it was pills and not infusions and I wouldn't be bald or as sick as I was before.  Yet it's after midnight and he's still awake, so who really knows what's going on in his head.  He's feral after all.  Supposedly, he's been asleep but just woke up realizing he had neither his pillow nor his blanket, whatever that means.  The child has more pillows than the rest of the family combined, and I'm pretty sure that he has a blanket or two plus a comforter in his room and isn't reliant upon the little fleece blanket he just took upstairs with him.  My speculation is that he's been awake, probably on his laptop or playing with his ipod.  There's a reason I refer to him as the Feral Third.

My nightly dose.  Looks benign enough.

So here I sit.  In my mind, it's still Sunday although it is 12:15 in the morning on Monday.  I said I'd start on Sunday or Monday.  Guess this is as close as it gets to that.

It seems like there should be some fan fare or something.  Maybe it will become old hat at some point.  One part of chemo that was kind of fun the first time around was waiting to see what sorts of side effects I would have.  Well, fun in a sort of intriguing way, not amusement park way.  There was some appeal to the concreteness of what I'd only read about, the dirty pocket change taste, the first tingles and pains of neuropathy, the crushing bone pain.  For the heavy duty chemo, though, no one escapes unscathed.  Everyone loses their hair, for instance.  Everyone experiences fatigue and nausea to one degree or another.  Not everyone experiences everything, but enough people do that I had the feeling that I wasn't going to get by unscathed.  With Tykerb, however, some side effects vary widely.  I'm taking it without the partner chemos, which are harsher.  So, will I or won't I get side effects?  Which ones?  How many?  When?  Tonight?  Tomorrow?  Two weeks from now?

Let's just assume I won't get any. 

I think I'll take an ambien, though, anyway so as to not dwell on this any more than I have to when I go to bed.

P.S.  So as to not fritter away my summer, I shall get up in the morning, hop on my bike, head to the Community Center to work out, and then I have an appointment with my G.P. to discuss this issue with my heel, a pain like tennis elbow in my "bad" arm, and a few other niggling things.  If I announce here that I am going to work out in the morning, I'm more likely to do it.  Feel free to hold me accountable.  

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.

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.

Thank You

I'm quite delayed in writing this. It's at least weeks, if not months over due. The fact is, I'm verklempt.

It's been nearly a year, actually 11 months to the day, since I got my diagnosis of breast cancer. Since then, while life has taken many twists and turns, and while I'd rather just erase the whole of last year--you will never hear me say that I'm thankful for getting cancer--the support you, my friends, both in my local community as well as those of you non-local, has been awesome. I can honestly say that friendships have been deepened and strengthened.

I can't even begin to explain or describe it all. Suffice it to say, people have been wonderful. More wonderful than words can express. In fact, I don't really even know where to start.

For months, people provided us meals, transportation, house cleaning, and other niceties, such as hand crafted soap and special oils for healing skin. Friends have helped us financially and emotionally. Near strangers have sent notes of encouragement. Colleagues have taught classes for me when I've been unable to teach. Friends have made hats for my freakishly large noggin, and provided me with enough scarves to allow me to dance the dance of the seven veils. We've received bread in the mail, gift cards, and funds for me to attend a yoga retreat. Friends from a distance helped with Christmas gifts, and local friends have put miles on their carss and spent oodles of time in parking lots, waiting rooms, and doctors' offices. I'm sure I'm leaving something out. Please don't be offended. Read ahead about my memory...

Like I said, I'm verklempt.

So, I'll simply end with an update of what's taken place, what's happening now, and what the future holds.

The Past:

Six rounds of chemo (herceptin, carboplatin, taxotere) every three weeks from August-the end of November.

Bilateral mastectomy with tissue expanders (stage one of reconstruction) December

Four rounds of chemo (Adriamyacin, cytoxin) every two weeks Jan-March.

Six weeks of radiation, daily, March-May.

11 herceptin infusions, every three weeks, March-? (I have 6 left)

All in all, I made it through all of that relatively (?) unscathed. The doctors all seem to believe I "handled it well".

Not counting the absent hair and faux boobs, I guess I did, all things considered. Several of the drugs are cardio-toxic, including the herceptin, but my most recent echo-cardiogram was fine.

The radiation most likely did some heart and lung damage, but I'm running nearly daily and am in the best shape I've been in in over 20 years. I completed a 5K race today, as a matter of fact.

I've lost 30 or so pounds and managed to keep it off, while most women who undergo breast cancer treatment gain weight.

My hemoglobin is nearly normal, or at least up to nearly double digits, which is an improvement. Having a nearly sufficient amount of O2 in your blood can never be appreciated quite enough.

I have a fair amount of peripheral neuropathy, leaving the front third of each foot nearly numb, having shooting pains in my feet (but that's an improvement over the pains that had been in my legs and ankles for months), and numbness on the tips of my fingers. At least that doesn't seem to slow down my typing, but it does make turning pages a bit challenging.

I've also noticed a fairly significant change in cognitive function, but theoretically, that should lessen over the next year or so.

I get to start the rounds to all the doctors again this month to find out if there has been any permanent damage to other systems: kidneys, pancreas, liver, adrenal functions, etc. Hopefully, I won't have any progressive cardiac or lung damage in the future.

Otherwise, with the exception of some fairly significant fatigue at times, which is supposed to diminish over the next 11 months.....

I feel great.

Really, I do.

I don't have the energy I used to, which coupled with the cognitive changes, means that things I used to take for granted (and still never accomplished very competently) such as meal planning, grocery shopping, and meal preparation are a real challenge. As is keeping up with deadlines and remembering things that need to be remembered....like the fact that I'd signed my youngest child up for the STARS program this summer, yet have never once sent him.....Household chores are sketchily accomplished, at best.

Yet, one advantage is that I DON"T REMEMBER that I"VE FORGOTTEN THINGS.

So, if I forget to fix dinner, oh well, I'll forget that I forgot eventually.

And one good part of fatigue is also apathy. I don't care if the bathroom sink is gnarly. And as soon as I'm away from it, I forget it's gross.

So, in general all is good.

As for the future? I'm scheduled to have the next stage of my reconstruction done the Friday before Thanksgiving.

I've delayed it for several reasons, one important one is psychological. Right now, I feel good, and I want to continue to feel good for awhile. But most importantly is a medical reason....I don't deal with anesthesia so well. Add anesthesia and its potential side effects to my cognitive changes, and no one thought it would be a good thing to expose me to more anesthesia than necessary. If I wait until November to do my reconstruction, the plastic surgeon can remove my port, saving me from having to be anesthetized for that surgery as well. Two for the price of one!

Hopefully, that will be the total end of it all...

My family has held up fairly well. As well as can be expected when faced with a wife and mother's mortality and sickness. It has been a rough year, but I think no one has been permanently harmed.

Nothing will be the same again, but a few of the boys' friends have really come through for them, hanging out, being highly supportive, not being creeped out by a bald, sick mom. They even invited me to coach their indoor soccer team two sessions this winter, and were quite understanding on the nights when I just couldn't do it.

Tynan was quite the sport about going to school, even though he didn't like it much at all. Aidan ended up rather liking school, especially socially. He'll be going back, although BGHS isn't the best fit for him. Tynan will probably be home next year for fifth grade. Nathan will be mostly at the university next year.

Louis has been home a lot, which has been a big help, but it would be a bigger help if he had a job he could go to :) However, as long as he's home, he keeps himself busy and is almost as good as having a wife.

But if anyone knows of a traditional housewife we could use or a job for my husband, any leads would be greatly appreciated.

Anyway, thank you very much, friends and loved ones, for helping us get to this point and still be capable of humor.

We love you all and hope to return the kindnesses in the future.

Troopers

When I was a kid, or at least as I remember it, the school year just ended. There might have been a special assembly or something, but I have no recollection of the end of the year activities dragging on and on like they do now. ...school picnics, awards ceremonies, class picnics, field day, themed days (beach day, zany day, bob cat day...), grandparents/special friends days...oh, heck, I can't even keep track of them all. Of course, back in my day, we also didn't have high stakes testing, and whatever tests we did take in elementary school certainly weren't prefaced by test preparation, other than having everyone go to the bathroom and sharpen their pencils. We even took naps in kindergarten and played with toys in first grade. We got three recesses a day: morning, lunch, and afternoon. We walked home for lunch, or at least some of us did. We rode our bikes to school and didn't lock them up on the play ground. And they were still there when we left for the day. So, maybe we didn't need the long, drawn out end of the school year she-bang that exists today.

I have a vague memory of some sort of final exam schedule in high school. I'm not sure if it applied to all four grades or just juniors and seniors. So much of high school is now a blur. I have no recollection of being able to go in late and get out early just because we might not have had an exam at that time. Maybe that happened. I'd probably have chosen to hang out at school in lieu of going home, though, or hang out in the parking lot or something like that. So, maybe we did have the opportunity to have a "final exam day" like my one son had today....go in at 10 and come home at 1:00.

What I do remember about the last day of school from both elementary and high school is the great feeling of relief when that final bell rang. That explosion of energy that came upon me as I left the building. The locker detritus that fluttered like confetti in the hallways. That feeling of expectancy...the summer was there for the grabbing.

And no one dared assign us outside reading or projects in the summer time...or if they did, I have blocked that from my memory as well.

Today was my kids' last day of school for the year. I don't really get the feeling that they are experiencing that huge sense of relief that I remember from my youth (heck, I STILL get that feeling when I walk off campus for the last time each May). Of course, Nathan finished his more difficult, university classes in May and probably only attended 70% of the classes of his one course at the high school. His relief was palpable earlier this month, after he took his last university final. Aidan has to be feeling relieved, but he still has to finish up his Algebra course that he was doing at home. He rather lost momentum when it appeared he'd have to retake the course at the high school next year to get credit, but since that was worked out, he'll have to buckle down next week to finish before he leaves for Puerto Rico next month. Tynan, who has hated every single day of school this year, did just tell me that when the final bell rang today, he felt a sense of freedom and that the bell symbolized a "new beginning." If I felt relief, and I liked school, I imagine he felt beyond relief, because he really despises it....don't get me wrong, he doesn't despise school *work*. He despises **school**. He despises the arbitrary hierarchy, both real and perceived. He despises all of the waiting, the redundancies, the noise. He really finds school stressful and a huge exercise in self-control, which explains his lack of self-control at home many times.

Although it sort of seems that this school year ended with a fizzle rather than the bang I seem to remember, in large part due to the plethora of end of the year activities, my kids, all three of them, deserve huge awards for just surviving this year. They really were troopers.

Less than a month before this school year started, I got my official cancer diagnosis. Two weeks before school started, I met with my oncologist and got my "plan of action." The day before school started--or there abouts--I did my first round of chemo. Sometime between meeting with the oncologist and the start of school, I made the decision--I'd like to say it was a "hard decision" but it really wasn't--to send Tynan to school full time. Since there is virtually no school choice in BG, I didn't have to look for schools. He went to the school down the street from us, where he'd gone for kindy and part-time grade one. He was full time homeschooled for grade 3 (skipping grade two), so he just went back where he'd been before. No brainer, really. It's a small, intimate school. Small classes. High quality teachers. Very nurturing. But he hated nearly every day of being there. Yet, he hung tough. He rocked. And he stuck it out, without once getting into trouble for attitude or behavior. In fact, he was awarded Student of the Month at least three times.

Aidan, though, wow. He really deserves kudos. Initially, the plan was that he'd take ONE class at the high school, which would make him eligible to play soccer. The day before school was to start, he still didn't have a schedule. Late that afternoon, as we met with his guidance counsellor, it became clear to me that getting him to and from school was going to be an issue, and wham-o, he was enrolled nearly full time. It was at least full day enrollment. It was a long, hard year for him. But finally, in the last nine weeks, he pulled it all together and did well. Fortunately for him, the social side of school was easy and he is quite successful there. At one point, he was trying to explain why he wanted to switch study halls: "The only people I know in that study hall are seniors, and do you know how uncomfortable it is to be the only freshman hanging out at a table with all seniors?" He totally missed that he was probably the envy of all the other freshmen in the room....Right now, he plans to go back next year. He was accepted at another school, but since my husband lost his job a few weeks ago, and has no prospects on the horizon, we can't justify taking on the expense of tuition right now. And he's on the waiting list at a charter school, but with the success of Crystal Bowersox on American Idol, an alumna of this particular school, the list is long....

Although Tynan and Aidan deserve awards for toughing it out this past year, Nathan deserves an award for being most flexible. After my diagnosis, not only did he change his schedule at the university--dropping two classes to make himself more available to help out around the house and adjusting his schedule to be able to help with transporting Aidan--he also stepped right up with helping his younger brothers with homework, getting Tynan off to school when I had to work, and driving me to many of my appointments. This past year really has been a rite of passage for him. He's also handled the stress of this past year well. OK, so he got arrested for a snowball fight, but he didn't begin drinking or drugging. Given that he all too well understands the dire potential outcome of cancer, has a good understanding of the economy and our precarious position in it given his father's three job losses, my position at the university, and what all of that means to our family and his future, he handled the stress with grace and maturity.

All in all, my boys were troopers this past school year and are fully deserving of a summer of relaxation. I'm very proud of them.

Go toward the light...

A few weeks ago, I said that I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I was really hoping that that light wasn't a train or something like that.

To recap, I finished radiation the second week of May, and made it through alright. I developed some annoying burns the week after, but a well placed call (and being cranky) to the radiation nurses got me a prescription for some Silvadene creme which helped immensely. At this point, I have some peeling skin under my arm and some scabbed over blisters under my breast, none of which really bother me, so I'm guessing I'm calling the immediate physical side effects finished.

I've hit the peak of my fatigue from radiation, and sometime over the next few months it should start to improve. This explains why I'm so delayed in updating my blog. I can apparently string together 420 or fewer characters to update facebook, but much more than that has seemed overwhelming.

And for that I apologize.

I saw Dr. Mo, my onco, on Thursday, exactly 10 months to the day from being told that I most likely had fairly advanced breast cancer. That was the 20th of July, and the final testing results were told to me on the 25 of July. On May 20, the birthday of my 10 yr old son and the 16th birthday of my stillborn daughter, Dr. Mo pronounced me "cured."

Wow.

I guess that light was really the sun and not a train headlight.

While no one can be sure what is going on on the molecular or cellular level, as far as Dr. Mo is concerned, I am officially cancer free. I've been chemo'd (x2), radiated, sliced and diced, and, in theory at least, those rogue, rapidly multiplying cells are all gone.

I still have to do 8 more rounds of herceptin to make sure that my cells don't decide to rapidly multiply. But that's not that big of a deal compared to chemo. And I have at least one reconstruction surgery ahead at some point. And then there are all the long term side effects which may or may not be permanent: neuropathy, cardiac toxicity, reduced heart function, possible lung damage, damage to other physiological systems, psychological and neurological changes.....

But the cancer is cured and for that I'm quite relieved.

Continuing to Crawl Out of the Hole

I just realized today that I haven't really watched any TV for a few days and much of what I have seen has bored me. This is yet another indicator that I'm crawling out of the chemo hole.

The smackdown appears to be over! I have more energy and more inclination to be involved in life. This either bodes well or not so well for my children:) They are pretty used to minimal involvement at this point. Tynan will be happier, but I'm not so sure about the feral teens.

Also, while I don't enjoy it, the idea of exercise doesn't seem overwhelming right now. I actually finished 3 days (one week) of the Couch to 5k program this week. Day one sucked big time. Day 2 was pretty bad, but today, day 3 wasn't horrible. That's about the best I can say. It wasn't horrible.

I hope it gets better. People have told me it gets better. I've read testimonials that say it gets better.

When do the endorphins kick in?

I watch my kids run and I think, "Why do my legs not move like that?" It looks so easy when they do it.

Don't know why this surprises me...

....it's not like I haven't been through chemo before. It's not like I haven't read others' stories about chemo.

I took my anti-nausea patch (Sancuso) off an evening early (Weds. night instead of Thursday morning) because some of the side effects were quite distressing. Almost immediately, little nigglings of nausea started, but I avoided compazine or zofran because I wanted to avoid the annoying side effects.

However, I rather discounted the cumulative effects of chemo. Those effects that get worse after each treatment.

So, yes, the nausea is worse. I feel like I've just eaten too much. Only I feel like this constantly.

And now I have mouth sores.

This shouldn't surprise me. I know these things happen. I know they will go away. I was so focused on finishing chemo I didn't focus on surviving the three weeks after my last treatment.

Surprise!

I will miss something about chemo...

...the early days after treatment and having to eat whatever sounds good. I can't not eat it because of the steroid driven appetite. I can't not eat it because if it sounds good, it won't make me feel bad.

I just finished an entire small pineapple and green olive pizza from Pisanello's. Since 1980, that has been my absolute favorite pizza and absolute favorite place to order pizza from. 352-5166.

I have cancelled checks that go back to September of 1980 for this treat.

Since we no longer order pizza as a family (because it's way too expensive), I rarely ate it, until I started chemo crashes.

I'm feeling the urge again.....

One more notch on the treatment belt...

Had my last chemo today.

For awhile, we weren't sure if I'd be getting it since I've been so sick this week from this demonic cold. However, since I didn't have a fever and since I haven't had a fever, and since I managed to not cough so they could hear how bad I sound, I got my infusion.

One week of being nauseous and feeling hung over, and this stage of this godforsaken journey is over. I did six infusions between Aug. 11 and Nov. 25. Then had a bilateral mastectomy Dec. 16. And just finished doing four dose dense infusions between January 22 and today, March fifth. I am so glad I decided to do the dose dense route. No way could I have done this and continued to work. I was wiped out after the first round of chemo, which was administered every three weeks, leaving me a week of feeling normal. With the dose dense, my blood counts never get a chance to climb. The lowest point is right around when I get my next dose. Pretty much everything is an effort, from thinking to...well, thinking and mental processing are both quite challenging right now. I feel really dumb much of the time. Physically, well, let's just not go there. It's depressing.

But that's all (nearly) behind me now. It's quite a relief. Quite. Truth be told, I fear the next stage of treatment more than I've feared anything in my life, but it is the LAST major hurdle I have planned. 6.5 weeks of daily radiation treatments. Guess it's time to get a schedule:)

I'm not going to let the fact that I was surrounded by women with recurrences today at the infusion center make me any less optimistic. I'll do my year of herceptin; my heart function will stay good enough to not screw that up; and then I'll never have to see the inside of an infusion center ever again, unless I'm visiting someone else who is there.

Oh, and I got to pick up my compression sleeves today, which means that now there is no reason not to exercise. Guess I'll start as soon as that personal trainer shows up.

Why tomorrow must be my last chemo

The meaning of "must" there works either way: (1) why it is imperative that chemo end tomorrow as well as (2) why there is some sort of indicator that tomorrow is the last chemo.


Today, I actually said, "This is my favorite episode of Trading Spouses" and then I saved it on the DVR.

Yes, that means I've seen the episode more than once. And, yes, I'll probably watch it again.

The only justification I have for this is that these four rounds of chemo have really wiped me out. In fact, I hit nadir at just about the time I do another round, which means I really have no "good days." I do have days I'm not nauseous, but I otherwise feel like limp celery. I nap daily and get physically tired grocery shopping. I'm so looking forward to having some energy. When I have energy, I can actually care about things. We've all heard the saying "Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff." I don't at all subscribe to that adage. In fact, I think it is pretty stupid. Some stuff deserves sweat. But for the last 6 weeks, I've pretty much been unable to sweat even the large stuff.

I've said, and I do believe, that if my kids survive this year without being too damaged, it will be a successful year. But "things" have certainly gone by the wayside, especially lately. I don't know the last time Tynan was read to. He rarely reads any more. It's been forever since I've challenged Nathan with academics. I've not even spoken to Aidan's physical therapist. Just about all family routine has ceased. Household routine is non-existent.

So, yes indeedy, it's time for chemo to end. I've heard of people who've done chemo and not let it interfere with their lives, but I'm just not capable of doing that, to the detriment of my family life, that's for sure.

And, yes, I've found a favorite episode of Trading Spouses.

For this reason alone, tomorrow must be my last chemo.

It. Must.

My new bff arrived today

This arrived today. It's my new BFF. It's a carbonated water maker. It took me a long time to decide to invest in it. I've been dithering about it since before the winter holidays.

One of the odd things about chemo is that it alters your ability to taste. Sometimes, people develop an affinity for tastes they've not before liked. One friend tells me she had never been a pop drinker before, but during chemo, she couldn't get enough of it. Others suddenly don't like favorite foods. I've developed an overwhelming hatred for the smell of cooked green peppers. They were never a favorite food, but I never turned them down. In fact, I usually didn't really notice them. Now, though, they are everywhere. I smell them while I'm walking down the street. Other people who never before ate fast food, find themselves compelled to eat Burger King. There's no rhyme nor reason to any of this (although, I do have a theory about some of the more common attractions/cravings).

One long standing drive I've had is for soda water. It's all I want to drink. I've been buying cans of it at an embarrassing rate. It doesn't have to be flavored. Plain is fine. I've tried less expensive methods of satisfying this urge. Two litre bottles don't work because they don't maintain the carbonation well enough.

So, I took a leap of faith and bought a sodastream with some of my Christmas money.

All I can say is wow, wow, wow! It's awesome. For starters, it doesn't use batteries or electricity, so finding a place for it in the kitchen was easy. Second, the bottles are reusable, which makes the green in me feel good. Third, the water tastes wonderful, much nicer than something coming out of an aluminum can. Fourth, it's easy to operate, which is really important for me, because I am sort of mechanically impaired. And, finally, it's red, which is my favorite color for the kitchen.

I'm happy I took the leap.

Welcome my new bff. May you serve me well.