tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44965994383935377202023-11-15T06:17:42.848-07:00Cancer ChicOne Girl's Tale of Awakening Courage, Compassion, and Connection. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-21292661167061422002015-04-04T09:33:00.000-06:002015-04-05T10:27:44.858-06:00A Bowl of Cherries <div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Apparently I have a flare for the dramatics. This is great for my writing but not so much for my friends and family. My last post, Crying Over Spilled Milk, was quite pessimistic and dismal. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or cause panic. I sat alone in my apartment for a week following my last procedure and cabin fever set in. I was going crazy and didn’t realize it. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A silver lining has emerged. It always does. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As with all my blogging, I worked on Spilled Milk for several days. I wrote, rewrote, edited, edited, edited - paragraphs were revamped and whole sentences added or deleted. The process was somber but immensely therapeutic. I realize now I was complaining about my situation and feeling sorry for myself. And it seems as though I wanted everyone else to feel sorry for me too. The night I hit submit I awoke at 2 am, thoughts flooding my head. Allowing things to just happen to me is not acceptable, I picked up a book I started a year ago and flipped to the first page. For lack of a better phrase, I’m “self-help” junkie - I read anything I can get my hands on about healing and spirituality. My favorites are A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle, The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown (and everything else she has written), The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz, and The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. So, naturally a random book left sitting on my bedside table for year should have some answers. I gravitate towards historical fiction and non-fiction when I have a moment to read something that doesn’t pertain to my graduate classes. In an attempt to become a legitimate writer, I’m working on my Masters in English and Creative Writing. That night as Lola’s sweet, kitty snores filled my ears, I began Anatomy of the Spirit by Caroline Myss. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This book is about energy healing. It reveals the hidden stresses, beliefs, and attitudes that cause illness. “Every thought you have had has traveled through your biological system and activated a physiological response…. Those that carry emotional, mental, psychological or spiritual energy produce biological responses that are then stored in our cellular memory. In this way our biographies are woven into our biological systems, gradually, slowly, every day.” All parts of our bodies are connected spiritually and biologically through the seven centers of spiritual and physical power - the Hindu chakras, the Christian sacraments, and the Kabbalah's Tree of Life. Dr. Myss shows how to cultivate personal power and spiritual growth through the healing of each center. “Illnesses develop as a consequence of behavioral patterns and attitudes that we do not realize are biologically toxic until they have already become so.” I grabbed a journal (I have a lot of these lying around - empty and otherwise - journaling is one of my healthier addictions) and started writing down my feelings and experiences and thoughts. My "health journal," as I'm calling it, is now filled with the teachings of this book, the emotions I've felt over the past few years, the epiphanies I've had since the darkness, and all things healing related. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A crisis, which it seems I was having, tells us “we need to break free from beliefs that no longer serve our personal development.” Sulking most definitely doesn't serve development. All circumstances can be changed in a moment, and all illness can be healed. The Devine is not limited by human time, space, or physical concerns. The protagonist in every story starts somewhere, usually a less than ideal situation. Maybe they are poor or weak. Maybe they are sick of having tumors and want their long hair back. Either way, a series of events shows them a path to their powers and they emerge victorious. At 2 am I realized I am a powerful hero. I can heal. I am making things more difficult than they need to be. “Achieving health, happiness, and an energy balance comes down to deciding to focus more on the positive than on the negative and to live in a manner spiritually congruent with that we know is the truth. Making those two commitments alone is sufficient to allow the power contained within our Diving biological system to influence the content and direction of our lives.” I have a great amount of power and I needed to reclaim it. Also, cookies help. And the tree outside my living room window blooming.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our “experiences become encoded in our biological systems and contribute to the formation of our cell tissue, which then generates a quality of energy that reflects those emotions.” I do not want my systems flooded with cells created by negative emotions. My personal challenges are part of a Divine plan. I have to “let go and let God” open my healing path. Let go of my need to know why things have happened as they have. I am here right now; the past is gone, the future is not here yet. I am alive. I have everything I need. I must be easy on myself. My current state of rollercoastering through emotions is probably due to the sheer volume of issues. I can handle this and this too shall pass. I also have to remember that I don’t have to do this alone and can turn over much of this worry and suffering to God. A time for everything and everything in its time. Challenging events in our lives are a form of spiritual direction. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“The ability to choose is an active power - and the sensation of having active power is both thrilling and threatening because it makes us want to change those parts of of our lives that are no longer appropriate. And changing those parts inspires us to challenge other aspects of our lives that are not satisfactory.” I can’t compare myself to others. In my dark place, envious and jealous thoughts penetrate my usually compassionate mind frame. All my friends and family were traveling or with their significant others, enjoying their healthy lives and gorgeous hair (I’m obsessed with hair these days). Instead of being happy for them I was covetous and I don’t have room for this poison in my mind. "In the language of confession, these therapeutic milestones are the same as calling our spirits back from negative missions on which we have sent them." I want a healthy happy attitude. Only I can make this happen.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0px;">I hope I get an A+ for this book report. </span><span style="font-family: Lucida Grande;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"> I didn't touch much on the final chapters because they are very powerful and I couldn't do them justice. But wow. This is exactly what I needed when I needed it - </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">connection with my mind, energy, body, and spirituality.</span><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> I don’t mean to preach, just share how I turned my negativity around… for the most part. This is work in progress. I am not a patient person and all I see in front of me is the need for patience. Connecting with consciousness and all matters of the spirit is a lifetime </span><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">journey. </span><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Lucida Grande;"><span style="font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s spring, the sun is shinning, the weather is warming. I have plans for the summer like writing in coffee shops, yoga, live music, reading in the park, baseball games, sitting by the pool. It’s the little things. I’m always preaching this, time to live by it. My mind is shrinking these tumors. My attitude is refreshed. My </span><span style="font-size: 14px;">Devine</span><span style="font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> connection reestablished. Annnnd I’m pretty sure the Easter Bunny is going to bring me chocolate. Everything is A-OK. (wink!) </span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span>I found this AMAZING article in my lasted Psychology Today magazine. It sheds light on living with cancer in a way I couldn't. <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/201503/the-new-cancer-survivors" target="_blank"> Click here for the link. </a></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Thank you to everyone who called, texted, emailed, IMed in the days after Crying Over Spilled Milk. I’m sorry I forgot how much I am loved. I can be a little crazy sometimes - just one of my many endearing qualities. Hahaha! Smiley face.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-45622925356760891462015-03-28T08:17:00.000-06:002015-03-28T08:17:13.606-06:00Crying Over Spilled Milk<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The second half of 2014 was the biggest challenge I've faced so far. My health, appearance, mind, and body underwent drastic changes. I was depressed. I was in pain. I was terrified. Mayo failed to deliver on it’s promise to fix me. Some of the cancer was removed but not all of it. For no reason they resected my spleen during surgery - which is serious given I work around children all day and it is an infection fighting organ. Following my surgery in January of 2014, the remaining liver tumors grew while I was busy living. I only had to go to the hospital once a month for my Octreotide injection (the only treatment option I was given) and I rarely saw a doctor. It was great! Hospitals are for sick people and that’s not me. I was living the life of an active, thirty-something. Everything fell apart at the end of summer when my blood work and scans showed it was time to act and act fast. Reality slapped me in the face and I returned to research mode finding Octreotide is used to treat symptoms, not inhibit tumor growth. For about 8 months nothing was done to restrain the liver tumors and things were getting out of control. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My oncologist recommended chemo medication and I tried it in August and September. Whist enjoying the lovely antics of this bodily poison, one must have strict supervision - including weekly blood work. During the second, two-week attempt at these pills (my first time ended, at my discretion, after one week), I received my follow-up-to-blood-work phone call and was told to STOP taking the chemo immediately. My red blood count looked so bad they were very concerned. I was asked if I had fallen anytime recently or if I had large bruises. No. Little did they know I'd already thrown those pills in the trash. I wasn’t having the symptoms they asked about but plenty of others. I was in so much pain and having crazy side-effects. My body told me this treatment was not right for me. I knew something was wrong and I wouldn’t take any more chemo until figuring out what it was. I imagine it’s easier to launch a rocket into space than it was for me to get the help I needed. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It took me about four months to uncover what was wrong. No one offered me much help as I described my symptoms to multiple doctors on multiple occasions. Symptoms were chalked up to chemo side-effects or I was told nothing is wrong after tests revealed the results were not “clinically out of normal range.” This doesn't mean anything. Many of the results were really low or really high - but not out of “normal” range by just the smallest bit. Something WAS wrong. I was life-raft floating in open water with sharks swarming. I have never been so scared. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Around November I diagnosed myself with a condition called Cushing’s - extremely elevated cortisol levels persisting over time. Cortisol is the stress hormone. I found a wonderful, female endocrinologist who agreed with me and said my tumors are most likely the culprits. There is no cure or treatment for Cushing’s. The best they can do is offer you a pill which limits the amount of cortisol your adrenal glands produce. However, this is not the cause of my Cushing’s and I found out this drug is no longer used in Europe because of its risky side-effects. I was also the victim of untreated low potassium. Both ailments are harrowing and cause distressing and agonizing symptoms. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Cushing’s changed my life. I quickly gained 20 pounds. Not in a normal, gain-20-pounds way. Cushing’s causes fat deposits in areas around the body. I can’t tilt my head all the way back or lift my arms fully due to the fat deposits around my neck and shoulders. There is a large ring around my waist resembling a swimming pool floatation device. My legs swell and stiffen to the point of pain, making walking difficult to near impossible. I have chronic fatigue and irritability. Hair grew on my face and back. While unwanted hair multiplied everywhere it shouldn’t be, the hair on my head fell out. With this drastic thinning of my hair, I desperately sought solutions. Shampoos, treatments, egg yoke concoctions… All I could do is cut it. (Sad face.) And then cut it again. (Extremely sad face.) I think short hair is super cute and fun. But not if you don’t <i>want</i> short hair. Fat deposits appeared on my face. I don’t look like myself anymore. These changes were a hard blow and they left me traumatized. Over that 5 month time period, I became a different person. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Perhaps worst of all was the difficulty thinking. The combination of Cushing’s and low potassium created a fog I lived in for weeks and weeks. I could power through work to “fade away” around 6 pm. All I could do was go to sleep. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t write. I wasn’t myself in those days. It was difficult to hold conversations and concentrate. My already poor memory faded even further. With my body shutting down and my brain shutting off, I was in a state of terror. Thoughts of death constantly crept about my mind. I was being terrorized by the end. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Then 2015 began and with it came some wonderful alterations. I had a special “someone” in my life and it seemed my health was improving. I felt better. Alas…</span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Everything changed. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The transformation in my appearance is most detrimental. I'm shocked thinking about the last 9 months of my life. I’m just barely starting to process what has happened/is happening. It is an odd, indescribable feeling to catch your reflection in a window or your friend’s sunglasses and not see yourself looking back. My vanity is Indiana-Jones-on-a-run-away-train out of check. I’m awful. I know everyone changes over time and we age. I get that. How I would love to just grow old and watch my wrinkles set in. My changes came on fast and furious. With all the craziness of these syndromes, I’ve gone from glittering creature of the night to mangy werewolf. (That was a Twilight reference.) I know the guys of the werewolf pack are attractive but I don’t know what they say about the women. In my case, it’s the opposite. As I mentioned, part of Cushing’s is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hirsutism"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Hirsutism</span></a>, the growth of hair in women. The picture of this on wikipeida is hilarious and gives an alternative name for this affliction: werewolf syndrome. There is also mention of the bearded lady. I’ve unwillingly become a member of the Freak Show. My skin has changed, what used to be normal, human skin is now bumpy, course, and oily. My face doesn’t look like me. It’s swollen and puffy. My signature long, blonde hair no longer exists. There are fatty deposits all over my body. I don’t even have a normal, female shape. I am wretched for being so vein. My looks agitate and frustrate me and then I'm furious at myself for caring so much. I get depressed. It's a sick cycle. I'm trying so hard to accept how I look now. I know I’m not the first cancer patient to deal with a changed appearance. I know this. So again, I’m mad at myself for thinking in this way. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I’ve discovered I get to add to my already full plate <a href="http://www.carcinoid.com/patient/understanding/carcinoid-syndrome-symptoms.jsp"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">carcinoid syndrome</span></a>. I’m experiencing symptoms such as peripheral edema: swelling in my belly/back, shoulders, face, legs and ankles. (Yes, more swelling in my face). As well as trouble breathing and arthritis in my knees to the point where it’s painful to stand and walk. I’m back to full on research mode. I’m trying to figure out what is causing what, how I can make it better, what do I do. This is nightmare. Literally a nightmare. It’s all phone calls and then return phone calls to all kinds of doctors who handle each different thing. Misery in the interim while I await test results and appointments. The only treatment I could find is Octreotide - a medication I’d previously stopped because of my concern over it’s side effects. I had to decide if I wanted to deal with a low functioning thyroid or the symptoms it treats. I don’t know. I guess the latter? </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The University of Colorado Hospital continues to make it up to me after their original botched attempt. I’ve had two SIRT procedures where radiation beads were placed in my liver. Four weeks later I had a scan and low and behold the doctors at UCH called me. Normally I’m the one reading the radiology report and trying to get in touch with someone about what I should do next. Not only did they call but they had a recommendation for another treatment because there is one little buggar who is not playing nice. One tumor grew so we’re going back in to block the blood supply. Almost done. Cut this guy’s supply, let the other tumors continue to shrink, and then it’s back to normal. Right? I’m <i>so</i> over this. <i>So</i> done with it all. I just want my life back. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I don’t even have normal hospital visits anymore. I went to check in with my endocrinologist and during the first part of the visit where they check your vitals - blood pressure, temperature, etc - I had a heart rate of 38. So, after meeting with my endocrinologist, I was sent to my general doctor for an EKG. My blood pressure and heart rate were checked about more 30 times - each time the results were the same - low heart rate and high blood pressure. I’ve had excellent blood pressure my entire life until about two months ago. Now it’s high. One more thing… The EKG looked normal but they didn’t want to send me away with heart rate around 40. So, it was off to cardiology to be fitted with a 24-hour heart monitor. One more thing… When does it end? </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Typically I conclude these posts with some positive outlook and feel much better having sent the post out into the world. I’m not sure how to do that this time. Things are not good and I’m not fake. I’m trapped in a constant state of symptoms, misery, depression, anxiety, and panic. My life is continuously interrupted by hospital visits. This cancer is rare and no one knows what to do. My stress is endless, which doesn’t help my already high levels of cortisol. My heart plummets every time I look in the mirror and don’t see myself looking back. Everyday I wake up and try to choose happiness. I’m currently hovering around 30% success rate if I’m lucky. I’m struggling. The “someone” is gone… Dark thoughts keep creeping up on me. Am I just to suffer for __<i>insert time frame here</i>__ and then die? Medical bills are coming in by the ten of thousands of dollars, I don’t have the money to travel as I want to, I’m not married or in a relationship, I don’t have children. My friends will be fine - they have beautiful lives full of jovial moments. My family will tell all their favorite crazy Lindsey moments and laugh - hopefully. We can be pretty ruthless with each other but maybe most of my unfavorable characteristics will be forgotten. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What do I do now? I just don’t know. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-66801915312360215152014-10-12T10:55:00.000-06:002015-03-17T20:34:11.347-06:00Fruits of My Labor<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> hitting </span>the<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span>publish<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> button I</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> let my </span>thoughts<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> float </span>into space and out of my life.<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> They served a </span>purpose; a bit of therapy for me and info for my people. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I randomly decided to reread and edit some of my blog posts. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">They read like a Hemingway </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">lamentation for the ages. Woe is me! Cancer Chic, more like Cancer Dirge. I briefly pondered deleting them. I thought about deleting this blog entirely. Instead, I made a few minor adjustments and opted to keep the posts as a reminder of where I've been. Mentally and physically. Phrases like, "I know this will come back" and "these tumors are expected to return" got the boot. Interesting I'd written that because it's exactly what happened. I can't have expectations or beliefs of that nature wafting about. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Out with the old and in with the new. New treatment options, new hope, new healing, new oncologist, new faith, new ideas, new new new. I have cleaned out old ways of thinking and being. New spirit is flowing throughout my life. I've purged my home, work space/classroom, heart, mind, body. Time to purge tumors. It is time for fresh energy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Following my surgery m<span style="font-size: small;">y brain took the stance I was cured and done with cancer</span>. You can find my picture smack-dab under the word denial. I will be smiling. Physically I felt amazing. I checked out of cancer-patient mode and checked into LIFE. I<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">n my defense I was told this surgery was going to give me decades of life and basically “fix” things.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It didn’t.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">But I digress.</span> LIFE was beautiful. It was fun. During my surgery at Mayo they ablated the tumors left in the part of my liver they didn't cut out. I got to pondering why couldn't this happen again. Lindsey, MD. Mayo and Kaiser only offered me chemo, which would hinder the reconstruction of my body. There is no treatment protocol for my type of cancer so I'm making it up as I go. Dr. Eadens (Kiaser oncologist in case this is getting confusing) said ablations are a temporary solution, putting the proverbial "bandaid on the problem" and we should try a few more chemoemobliztion procedures. (You can read about this procedure in one my previous, bemoaning posts.) Dr. Rubin of Mayo, the man at the helm of my catastrophic meltdown last month, told me chemoembolizations are a temporary solution, putting the proverbial "bandaid on the problem." I'm thoroughly entertained. These two know each other! Eadens' fellowship at Mayo was with Rubin and supposedly they have been conferring about my treatment. They are the culprits for my current<i> we have to get these tumors under control and I'm the only one who is doing anything about it</i> situation. That will be all gentlemen, you're dismissed. But thank you. I felt lost and hopeless and sought answers from outside of myself. Now, my power is coming alive. I am looking inward, feeling dynamic and forceful again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This week the University of Colorado Hospital got another crack at me. There is a bitter, slightly humorous post about my first trip to UCH. I found Dr. Messersmith, the oncologist I meet when I got a second opinion at UCH last year, once again when I was calling every doctor I know last month. I searched my inbox and located his emails. He informed me there is now a liver-specific interdisciplinary team at UCH. This team of doctors of different specialities meet and discuss treatment options. I made the appointment thinking, "eh, why not, I've got nothing else to do and my insurance will cover it." This go 'round went swimmingly.<b> </b>Kismit struck when part of the team, a young oncologist, stepped into my room. This was Dr. Lindsey Davis. <b>I have literally found Lindsey, MD!!!! </b>Her energy is magnetic, her aura delightful, laugh chipper, and voice honest. I love her. Nervously, I called the next day and proposed that she become my oncologist. She said YES! The appointment continued to go well when the team told me exactly what I wanted to hear. They are not going to ablate the tumors, but perform a procedure similar to the chemoemblizations with radiation. This minimally effects other parts of the body and directly targets the tumors. <b style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Chemo averted!</b><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"> I do <i>NOT</i> have to take any more </span><span style="font-size: small;">chemo pills. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">My body-temple is healing. I feel great and </span>grate<i>ful.</i> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When discussing my treatment options with Dr. Smith at the University of Colorado Hospital, he concluded with, “With these treatments most people can live 5 years.” I stopped him right there, “Whoa! Don’t talk like that. I plan on living for 50 years.” I will not have anyone predicting my future. You are not time traveler and I would venture to say you do not have a crystal ball. We are here now and no one knows what will happen tomorrow let alone in 5 years. </span> </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Love is bright light, Batman-signal shinning into the night, making its way from my heart into the universe. God is making its way from the universe to my heart. This is quite a shift from where I have been. And where I still may go. I will stumble and have bad days but my mind needed an overhaul and overhaul I have. There are new healers in my life. New spiritual group I attend on Sundays. New plans for the next fifty years of my life. </span></div>
</div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Raise your glass or fold your hands or lift your arms</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">. Here's to an outrageous amount of fortune, love, and solutions. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-11307056408501808972014-10-01T19:31:00.000-06:002015-03-17T20:29:50.562-06:00Going Bananas<div>
<br />
I have referred to my people as my army and I must summon you all to my side again. I fully recognize you have already given so much and I simply refuse to burden anyone. My appeal is minuscule as everyone is undoubtedly over hearing about all of this. I ask just for a thought. One thought/prayer/request/wish. You may call it as you choose.<br />
<br />
Please tell the Universe/God/Love: these tumors are done. <br />
<br />
Together we can blast these things into powder and watch them drift away on a faint breeze. </div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
September was..... interesting.<br />
<br />
It all began at the end of July. It was a beautiful Denver summer and I was loving my life. Days were filled with bike rides to yoga, sun-lapped skin as I sat in the park reading books, and bathing in the love of my friends. I felt strong and healthy and happy. The time came for my monthly blood work. I'm knew there had been some growth with the tumors but who could think about that when you live nestled up to the beauty of the mountains and feel like a million bucks. <br />
<br />
I was abruptly thrust back into cancer world when my blood work came back off the charts. August came. In addition to the collapse of my cheerful world, I started feeling odd. My belly was constantly swollen and I didn't feel well for hours after eating. I lost my appetite. I gained about 10 pounds in 3 weeks. My legs and joints felt stiff and could no longer go to yoga. I chalked it up to finally putting on some weight after my surgery and cancer stuff and went about my days making the best of things. It was time to return to work after all. <br />
<br />
School started. At the end of August, I began an oral, systemic chemotherapy. (Chemo pills.) During my meeting with the oncology pharmacist about said chemo pills, he was adamant I'm to be careful while handling them. I slowly raised my eyes from my notes and deadpan replied, "You mean you don't want me to poison myself while I'm poisoning myself?" My regimen is two weeks on the drugs, two weeks off. Rinse, wash, repeat.<br />
<br />
Fine. My <i>I am a Warrior Goddess and this going to no big deal because it's time to blast these tumors</i> attitude thundered from atop a snow-tipped peak and I started popping pills.<br />
<br />
That lasted a week. <br />
<br />
Alarmingly, my heart was beating hard and strangely. I had horrible headaches. I couldn't think. How do you live if you can't <i>think</i>? My mind was blocked. I couldn't read or write. I wasn't myself. How do you put something in your body that makes you not you? I could barely walk at times due to the pain and stiffness in my legs. My feet and ankles were swollen. I felt shaky and extremely on edge. I had sores on my throat and tongue. I powered through work each day to go home, sleep 7 hours on the couch, and awake to an eyes-peeled-open night of angst. I was certain all my body systems were failing.<br />
<br />
I stopped taking the pills. The problems persisted so I got on the phone to all the doctors I know. </div>
<div>
<br />
My oncologist at Mayo dismally altered my life in thirteen minutes. A cloud of doom settled in and I became absolutely frantic. One thirteen minute phone conversation brought on a darkness of proportions I had yet to experience. For thirteen minutes I was a senseless, infinitesimal human who had the gall to ask Dr. God to come down from his rein on Mt. Olympus and speak with me. The fact I wasn't tolerating the chemo was remotely fathomable as he barked that it was the best they have. And his tone was not "this is the gold medal of chemo" best they have. It was the "it's all they got" so we'll throw it at you, measly pauper, as a last resort. I tried to ask about other treatment options to be abruptly cut off and given sharp, extremely bleak answers. It seemed there was no hope. I was wrecked.<br />
<br />
Following that conversation the first week of September was spent in sheer terror. Crippled by anxiety, my fear was so heightened I could barely breathe. Grim thoughts invaded. I wondered if I had even a year left. My focus became all the things I haven't experienced yet. Watching a game in all the baseball stadiums in the US. Dancing on the beaches of Thailand. Surfing in Australia. Learning Spanish. My brute instincts in times like this are to hide away where I can contain the spread of this black temperament. Wrapped in darkness, envy saw it's chance and crept in. Every person I saw performing the simple act of walking created an overwhelming feeling of jealousy as they possessed a functioning body. <br />
<br />
This is not me. I continued to feel that something is really wrong - this is not just chemo side-effects. <br />
<br />
Calls to doctors continued. The gastroenternologist who diagnosed my case had the pleasure of hearing from me again because of my swollen belly. I told her to humor me because I thought I'd picked up a bug in Nepal when, to be polite, I ate the meat served at a wedding I attended. She thought that actually isn't too crazy. She ordered a bunch of blood work and stool sample. It is now confirmed I do not have parasites. My endocrinologist also made the list because, as I was researching, I found that my symptoms are text book for an under-functioning thyroid. More on this in a bit. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After my agonizing week, I woke up at 5 am on a Sunday morning and drove to the ER. I was armed and ready with my latest editions of NatGeo, Yoga Journal and a new book. Since it was so early, I walked in and was shown directly to a room. The doctor was in about 5 seconds later. Super duper! So far so good. I told 90's George Clooney ER Doc all my symptoms and the tests began. Again - super duper! They took lots of blood and I got a CT scan. The health care system is a game. You want results, you gotta play. If I'd tried to get all of these things done one by one, it would have taken many phone calls to doctors, many phone calls for scheduling, and multiple visits to the hospital. The suffering would have continued as I awaited the results of each test. In the ER they run all the tests, you get results quickly, and I didn't have to miss work using my much coveted sick days. It turns out, my potassium levels were basically bottomed out. It also turns out, potassium is crazy important!!! You learn something new everyday. Sorry Chiquita, bananas are not enough in my case and I'm now functioning a bit better on potassium supplements. </div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
"I told her she must be able to smile to her sorrow because we are more than our sorrow."<br />
<span style="font-size: 16px;">-Thich Nhat Hahn</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
I've got a Cheshire Cat sized grin for you Thich. The "treatment" I've received since my surgery to stop the growth of the remaining tumors is a medication called Sandostatin. Here's why I'm smiling..... I just read in multiple places Sandostatin does <i><b>nothing </b></i>to prevent the growth of tumors in cases like mine. Essentially, the tumors in my liver have been left to their own will, virtually untouched over the past 8 months. Each scan I've had has shown growth, and now there are new tumors. <br />
<br />
Pause to smile more. <br />
<br />
I was being injected with this drug on a monthly basis to stop the growth of my <i>cancer </i>on the guidance of my oncologists at Kaiser <i>and</i> Mayo - the renowned cancer clinic. I trusted that was exactly what was happening. The emphasis can be placed on <i>was</i>. At first, I was receiving one injection but then it became two because the tumors were growing according to scans I had in the spring versus summer. BUT, as I just read, there is no viable research on this. <b>I should have done my homework. </b> I failed but it will <b>not</b> happen again. Smiling. As I continued reading I found that this drug is used to treat diarrhea and flushing. SO, I was being injected with something that stops me from getting red in the face, which is the definition of flushing (yeah I had to google that). Grinning. IN ADDITION, one of the side effects are symptoms of an an under-functioning thyroid - all of which are terrible. The massive anxiety and fear I've been having is finally explained. My hormones are all out of whack, another reason for the extreme terror and feelings of unease. My puffy face. Smile at my smile. Because my face is so swollen, it's actually a bit painful to smile. Also explained by the Sando side-effects: my hair loss, irregular heart beats, and inability to think clearly. Worst of all, the stiffness and swelling in my legs and joints - stripping me of my active life and the great love/guidance/therapy of yoga. This medication also hinders the absorption of nutrients... my low levels of potassium maybe? </div>
<div>
<br />
BUT, I cannot be mad at doctors. I refuse to sit around in huff while they are out driving their expensive cars and living in their mansions, courtesy of the pharmaceutical companies that charged me $5,000 for each shot I was given. I will give no credence to the words of Dr. Mayo God, evaporating them from my mind. Instead it's go time..... once again. </div>
<div>
<br />
I create my own reality. My reality is these tumors are done. Mid-September I made it through a full round of chemo and countdown to the next is one week. Until then, it's living present in every moment of non-chemo days. <br />
<br />
As I sit here in my I Heart October t-shirt, the tenth month of the year is looking pretty amazing. I kinda want to sneak it a little kiss. Life will be much more comfortable with the end of Sandostain, my paycheck restored to normal after months of deductions from the work I missed during surgery recovery, a new round of chemo blasts (this is not exactly exciting but if it shrinks tumors then it is what it is and I am powerful - plus I smile when I think of the chemo as a Care Bear Stare blasting the villain into oblivion, what can I say, I'm a child of the 80's), and maybe throw in a little fun too. September, we're through. Don't call. Don't write. I've got a hot date with October and its going to be goooooooood.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This post is for three of the lady loves of my life, who are undeservedly and unconditionally looking out for me: the timeless Betsy, wonder-woman Sarah, and my wifey Shell. I'm grateful for your acute power, dynamic laughter, untamed beauty, and astonishing wisdom. You save me time and time again even when you don't know you are saving me. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-37788422357481470992014-07-21T16:24:00.000-06:002014-11-08T18:05:16.652-07:00My Cup of Tea<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My brilliant sister put it best when she stated, "I was talking to some people recently and said, ‘Want to know the secret to life? It’s gratitude.'" Indeed, Sis. Indeed. I simply couldn’t be more grateful. I think the expression goes, I could die of happiness. Well, I’m going to live of happiness. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I began typing this as I sat on a plane bound for Amsterdam. Grateful. I’ve always wanted to go to Amsterdam. And I did. I nearly cried as the plane took off and sat thanking God for all the gifts he’s bestowed upon me. I teared up when my plane landed in Nepal, overwhelmed by gratitude, again, loving that I did something I've always wanted to. And to think, just 6 years ago I could have never done something like this because I had a crippling fear of flying. Now, I regularly gaze upwards and wish to be aboard the airplanes I see crisscrossing the skies. Doesn’t matter where they're going. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
I’m truly grateful for ALL the blessings I’ve received. Constantly thankful. There are major things like the monumental love of countless people. <b>How loved I am. How grateful I am to know it.</b> There are little things. The front row on an airplane. For a tall girl such as myself, this is Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket. The aisle seat. I can get up a zillion times, due to my water chugging habit, and not inconvenience the people around me. Aboard Turkish Airlines we were served Turkish delight as soon as the attendants were allowed out of their seats. An entire row to myself on my flight from Kathmandu to Istanbul. The seven hour trek was cut down to nothing as I curled up and caught some much needed z’s utilizing the gifts given in a small travel pack from the stewardess containing socks, earplugs, and an eye cover. It’s lazy days in bed reading, finding out my fave lunch spot is now open til 8:00 pm, iced green tea, walking in the park, always stopping to smell a rose. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I left America on a mission to find myself. I was going to travel alone to discover the answers to all my questions and reach enlightenment. You are welcome to image a coo-coo clock sound effect. Todd put it best when he said, “Lindsey, you’re trying to ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ your way around the world… but really you’re just traveling.” So how<i> </i>does one find themselves? And why do I continually think I must find myself? Again, coo-coo clock sound effects. Before my departure on this little journey, I had dinner with two of the most marvelous people I know, Trent and Vivek. As we savored a Denver evening on the patio of my favorite restaurant, we talked about the power of prayer. These two are not only friends but messengers as well. So as my travels began, I prayed. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My prayers were answered. I connected with Honza, a Drahota living in Prague. My heart instantly leapt with joy as I knew I’d discovered a kindred spirit and eternal friend. His smile lights a room and the brightness of his spirit rivals the sun. I think often of our short time together and eagerly await our reunion…. which will be soon. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I prayed the night I found myself alone my hostel in Budapest. I </span>specifically <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">booked this place because it promised 24-hour reception. This is important for a girl traveling alone. I was scared. Next thing I know, the door swings open and in walks a very kind Russian who asks if I’d have a glass of champagne with him. He explained it’s his last night, he’s catching a flight in a few hours and I agreed. Thanks to Goggle Translate for some assistance, we had a lovely chat and upon his departure, the older Frenchman staying at the hostel returned. Alone no more! The next day I sat in the kitchen of that same hostel and in walk two Dutch travelers. Together, we headed to the city square to watch World Cup matches with the masses. Then we shared a bottle of wine in a park next to the Danube. It was perfect. And it just so happened they were also headed to Prague the next day. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: 0px;">I found I don’t need to go half way around the world to know who I am. I already know. I completed all three “Eat, Pray, Love” parts in Prague/Budapest. When I arrived in Kathmandu I stayed a few nights and left. Because I can. In Nepal I was, once again, alone. My trust issues were at all time state of heightened awareness when I just couldn’t bare to put my life in stranger’s hands once again. I used AirB&B to book 5 nights in Kathmandu. When I arrived at my host’s home, he showed me my room and we took in the otherworldly views from his rooftop terrace. We talked about his arranged marriage, politics, and Nepalese customs over a traditional meal handmade by his lovely wife. </span>My host's teacher friend stopped by to share our meal and<span style="font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> once again, I was headed to see a school. This happens in nearly all the countries I visit. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After spending the next morning in school, where the children were very happy and focused on their studies, we took his scooter to see some sights. We had lunch in Thamel and I did a little shopping. During our conversations he talked about moving to Europe and asked if I’d visit. I answered sure, it was a sunny day and I was having fun. At out next stop, The Monkey Temple, things got weird. He chuckled to himself and when I inquired as to why, "I told </span>them you are my wife."<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> They would give me better prices he explained and I laughed because it seemed to be working. When he moved a little too close and asked if I liked being called his wife, I no longer cared about making purchases. I requested a ride back to where I was staying and hopped a flight to Amsterdam the following morning. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />My summer trip around the world was cut short. About ten days into my holiday, I received an email from Mom informing me there was to be an impromptu Drahota family reunion. Everyone knew I was traveling and it was understood if I couldn't come. My immediate response was: I will be there. Family first. This is one of the reasons for my trek to Prague, to see where I hailed from and learn about <a href="http://havecancermustblog.blogspot.com/2014/06/a-la-carte.html" target="_blank">my roots</a>. We found out about my aunt’s cancer just days before leaving. So one July morning, I awoke in Amsterdam and around midnight that same day I landed in Omaha. Imagine my excitement. But the truth of matter is: it’s <i>people</i> I want and need. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My time spent in other parts of the world and my homelands of Nebraska and the Czech Republic completely revived me. Before I left Denver, I was Eeyore about everything. I felt sorry for myself, sad, and a bit hopeless. After my trip, spending several days with my family, and weekend in the mountains with my friends, I feel alive again. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The look on my cousin Alicia's face alone was totally worth it. Being four days apart, we have celebrated our birthdays together every year of our lives. This year we wouldn't have that opportunity... or so she thought. When I decided to come home early, I conspired to surprise her. She had no idea. I loved it! </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">While I really love looking around other countries, the answers I seek will not be found there. What I will find is fascinating people, scrumptious food, rich culture, compelling history, and more. Every country I visit provides me with the oxygen I need for my lungs. I inherit new knowledge and grow. I find peace. It is an addiction of the purest kind. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">To "find" me I must look inward. I look to myself</span><i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </i><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">and to those around me</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> I am my friends. I am my family. I am Drahota. I'm my grandfather. The man I have yet to meet. The man who sat on the curb next to his demolished vehicle and said, when approached by paramedics for help, "There are kids in the other car, go check on them." This act claimed his life. This act brought beauty to the world. Here I sit half a century later, having heard this story for the first time, and have a new hero. Drahota pride further etched into my heart as the same blood of this man flows through my veins.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span>I was instructed by my aunt to continue traveling this world. That is exactly what I intend to do. Her light and love surrounds the globe, thriving in our hearts. We gently close our eyes, grin to ourselves and feel her warmth every time the thoughts of her constant, ever-present smile come to mind.... And it appears often. Her smile illuminates and diffuses delight to anyone within her presence. </div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /><br />
</span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">For Marge</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
<br />
<br />
</span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-62213196933336423842014-06-23T15:05:00.000-06:002014-11-08T18:04:59.089-07:00À la carte<br />
Better late than never! I'm <i>finally</i> traveling a bit! I should have done all of this in my 20's but it never really crossed my mind. <b>Now, it's</b> <b>all I can think of</b>. The list of the places I want to visit grows by the moment. I'm fairly certain Australia/New Zealand is up next (Abby). Followed by Amsterdam (Sarah/Dick). Then France, where I'll soon have a place to stay (Susan). While in France I want hit Spain and Portugal. The Mediterranean (Jenn). Costa Rica (Bets/Jos/Todd). Thailand (Shelley). Israel (myself). I guess I'll stop now before I list every country in the world, which is the ultimate goal. Who's in?!??!!<br />
<br />
The purpose of my travel holds great meaning for me. Last summer I was able to stay in Turkey for a month and it was magical. I learned and grew in ways I can't describe nor could have imagined before my trip. This summer I've chosen Prague and the Czech Republic, the homeland of my ancestors. Today, I walked among grave stones marked in the 1800's with Drahota and Drahotova (the feminine Czech version of Drahota). <br />
<br />
I met Jan Drahota, a resident of Prague and relative, on Facebook. What I found in person was a beautiful human with a compassionate heart and delightful soul. He eagerly responded to my message about meeting while I was in Prague. Jan introduce me to his elegant and captivating girlfriend, Lenka, took me a music festival and out to dinner (two of my favorite things!) His generosity didn't stop there. The following day we drove to the Czech countryside. About 30 km outside of Prague we came to a very small village, Radlice. We hopped a fence and wandered around a farm once owned by the Drahota family for <i>many</i> generations. He spent time there as a child while it was under the ownership of his great aunt. We then strolled through the fields my family had farmed for generations. I've stood where my ancestors stood. I've laid my eyes upon the same Czech countryside they tended. It's remarkable. It's unexplainable. It's gratifying.<br />
<br />
In the next village over, Horní Kruty, we walked through a cemetery. The unnamed cemetery, which has long since been paid any attention and left to the overgrowth of weeds, sits in the shadow of an equally neglected and abandoned church. It possesses the remains of several people named Drahota and Drahotova. Words can't do it justice. Quite an experience to walk among these ruins and see <i>my name</i>, Drahota, everywhere.<br />
<br />
As I strolled along, taking a few more pictures, Jan heard some voices and stopped to ask the locals about "Drahota." What he encountered was a gasp and the expression of someone completely overwhelmed by emotion. The woman we met is a local teacher (!) and has a special of love of Drahota. She explained to Jan, and he translated for me, his close relative had saved her life as a young child! When she was very small, she nearly drowned but Jan's aunt came to her rescue. She LOVED the Drahotas and told remembrances of them from her younger years. Sadly, there are no longer any Drahotas living in the area. She was kind enough to show me around the school. It was a small, country school of only 21 students and 3 teachers. I loved every moment. <br />
<br />
In order to afford this little venture, I'm staying in hostels. In my early twenties, hostels would have been my Disneyland. Late nights, partying, craziness. Now that I'm a <i>teensy</i> bit older I recognize how I enjoy having my own space. So, I splurged and booked a hotel room for two nights. I'd like to sleep without college kids coming in at 2 am or waking to slamming doors at 7 am. Oddly, I've observed contrary to our reputation, Americans are not the loudest, most obnoxious people here. In my opinion.<br />
<br />
I fail to understand how the "kids" I'm meeting have traveled so much. How did I miss this part of life??? (I'm working hard to catch up!) These college grads/under-grads speak of the numerous places they've been and I'm perplexed. How do they have the funds to travel at such a young age? I cashed in my retirement from 4 years of teaching in Nebraska in order to make this trip. Also interesting: they stay for a few days and then move on. How do you grasp a sense of a city/country's history and culture from two nights of clubbing? The major purchases I've made so far are books. I can't get enough of the antiquity of this place. Where I'll put these books is anyone's guess as I don't have a lot of space in my luggage. Perhaps traveling later in life <i>is</i> better..... Perhaps I should be <i>reading</i> these books so I can leave them behind..... The seven-hour train ride to Budapest tomorrow should give me ample time. <br />
<br />
I simply can't get over how British people speak. I'm mesmerized. Perhaps this is my grandmother Yvonne's influence. I'm told she loved British humor and the the maternal side of my family is British. My bag was rejected at London Heathrow Airport security and the guy searching it said 'lovely' at least 12 times making the experience <i>enjoyable</i>. He then seemed genuinely sad to take my sunscreen because it was<i> just</i> over the legal size. I <i><b>was</b></i> genuinely sad because it was organic and now I have to use some chemical-filled crap from the market (yes, I'm <i>that</i> girl now - you still have to love me). He basically insisted I use some before he threw it away but I wasn't in need of sunscreen at the moment.... as I was about to board a plane. Nice chap. I think the next place I'll live is London.<br />
<br />
I find it ridiculous my suitcase was searched because of sunscreen... not the large bag of syringes I'm carrying. I feel like if someone was going to do some harm, syringes would be a more likely source than sunscreen. But I could be wrong. Cancer travelers, at least this one, have the privilege of carrying mass amounts of medication. <i>AND</i> I still got everything into one carryon suitcase and a backpack! I'm extremely proud of this accomplishment. Of course I've learned to pack smart. I have socks, t-shirts, and undergarments that can/will all be thrown away during the course of my travels, creating space for anything I buy: i.e. scarves. I gave poor Trent "scarfatigue" (his term and my source of much laughter) in Turkey last summer. I actually did make a scarf purchase about 3 hours after landing.... this couldn't be helped, it was chilly!<br />
<br />
Traveling alone is interesting. It is fun and freeing. It is lonely. Ying and yang, as with all things I suppose. I very much enjoy doing whatever I want. It would be nice to do what I want with someone. My stay in Prague, already amazing, dramatically improved upon meeting Jan. I thank God for sending me this wonderful messenger, family member, and friend. <br />
<br />
I'm beyond humbled and immeasurably grateful. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
For Honza<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-48870613903014665182014-06-16T00:03:00.000-06:002014-11-08T18:04:23.787-07:00As Cool As a Cucumber<br />
I'm green with envy. And about to rant. Hold on tight.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm jealous of the Hulk. I wish I could turn into a giant green beast and tear some sh*t up when I get mad. Because I'm f*ucking mad and there is nothing I can do about it. *<br />
<br />
I hate cancer. HATE. IT. **</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If I had my way, and I don't like it when I don't get my way, I would <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4iUQskA1ok" target="_blank">Green Mile inhale</a> everyone's diseases and exhale them into the atmosphere. No one should have go through this. I thought I had everyone covered. I mean, what are the odds that anyone around me would <i>also</i> have cancer. Pain-stakingly, I have learned of another person close to me with a cancer diagnosis. NO! No No No NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! I envision RAGING with Hulk-caliber strength - transforming into a giant with bulging muscles that will aid me as I savagely tear through every bit of my current surroundings.... and then some. <b>I'm SO MAD!</b> Words no longer convey my emotions so I primordially growl with Jurassic Park pitches which blow back your hair. I want to do the damage I know cancer is unjustifiably inflicting upon another person's life. The intense pain, constant trips to the hospital, stress of medical bills, the anguish of loved ones watching on, mortality staring you down. It's <b>NOT</b> okay and it's <b>NOT</b> fair. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Of course there have been times before I was "sick" when I heard about such things but they register on a whole new plane of emotions now. (In case that wasn't obvious.) I've now walked that path and it simply shouldn't be allowed to exist. But it does. <br />
<br />
Why is that? Begin second, purposefully shorter, rant. Cancer is big business. Especially in the US. I continually read about people seeking treatment overseas and there is a reason for this. Elsewhere the FDA hasn't banned everything non-pill form so pharmaceutical companies' CEOs can continue to drive cars that cost more than annual salary and roll around in money Indecent Proposal style. Anyone else see a problem with this? End short rant. See, that wasn't so bad. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My latest blood work revealed I'm STILL anemic. This explains my fatigue and moodiness. So, my vegan days are on hold for bit as I take in some iron. Oh steak, how I've missed thee... let me count the ways. My doctor recommended some pills of course, but that's not how I roll. I immediately took to researching foods containing iron. If there is a pill that will do something there is most certainly a natural way. Meat is high on the iron-rich foods list. Congrats steak, you're back in! Not just any steak, mind you; organically (if possible) grass-fed beef. Oysters, cherished with all my heart, also made the list as well as some of my normal bunny food like spinach. Fortunately, all works well with the diet I'm trying which is a high fat, low carb way of eating called the <a href="http://www.ketogenic-diet-resource.com/cancer-treatments.html" target="_blank">Ketogenic</a> diet. It's shown great results for epilepsy and other diseases and research shows it's a great cancer fighter. The premise is to essentially starve the cancer cells of the glucose they need to thrive and provide support for the mitochondrial respiration process in healthy tissues. Trying a new diet is non-toxic. When my glucose and blood sugar is lowered, normal cells can switch to burring ketone bodies for fuel while cancer cells are starved of the glucose they need to grow. Makes sense to me.<br />
Foods high in good fat are eggs, avocados, salmon and almonds, to name a few. Plus my daily dose of leaves. All carbs, even gluten free, are gone. As I've recommended, read <u>Wheat Belly</u>. You'll be running from anything made with "wheat" as I am. Great read. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Speaking of books/random side note: I'm absolutely loving <u>The Gifts of Imperfection</u> by Brené Brown. This is the second book of hers I've read and it's magnificent. I devoured <u>Daring Greatly</u> on a four-hour flight from Denv to NYC and packed <u>I Thought It Was Just Me</u> for my summer reading. Her messages of loving yourself, finding true joy and not just fleeting happiness, settling into your emotions instead of avoiding them (Hulk-raging?), and allowing yourself to be imperfect are beautiful, enlightening, and soul-changing. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Another book I'm obsessed with is <u>The Buddha Walked Into A Bar... A Guide to Life for a New Generation</u>. This book isn't solely for people interested in Buddism. Lodro Rinzler's writing is light and inviting, putting the splendor of Buddism into easily understood language. It has many of the same messages Brené brings to the table such as being easy on yourself, the art of forgiveness, and loving those who have wronged you. It's sublime and grand all at once. </div>
<div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Okay... rant(s) complete(ish) for now. Instead of a Hulk transformation, I'll take the peaceful path and offer my unceasing services to the person mentioned in this post and <b>ALL</b> who are, as I am, working through this muck-filled cancer world. How can I help? A hug. A book. A shoulder. An ear. Advice. I've been where you are and I'll be right by you in person or essence. </div>
<div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
*Please excuse my language. This blog is typically and purposefully PG-rated. It couldn't be helped in this instance. I beg of your pardon.<br />
<br />
** This attitude is a bit different than my previous post. As I explained then, I shift in moods like the tides. It's the Cancer in me (zodiac Cancer) <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-19713715204572190052014-05-30T15:34:00.001-06:002014-11-08T18:03:14.224-07:00Soul Food <br />
Happy Anniversary to me!!! <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gdX6sycuWI" target="_blank">Party time! Excellent!</a><br />
<br />
Party on Wayne. Party on Garth. <br />
<br />
May 2, 2014 marked the one year anniversary of finding out I have cancer. Party on Lins.<br />
<br />
I am healing. I have transformed my mind, soul, energy, essence, person.<br />
<br />
<b>"I am not what has happened to me. I am what I choose to become."</b> - Carl Jung<br />
<br />
Sometimes I'm so full of sorrow I gasp for breath, clutching anything to retain my balance as the remaining fragments of my heart collapse into one another. My anguish-satitated chest forgetting the innate processes it's conducted since my conception. Then, my ever-swinging life pendulum makes it's way in the opposite direction and I'm riddled with conflict as my mind ponders, over and over, a phrase bubbling up time and time again: having cancer has opened my eyes, opened doors, opened my heart, opened the universe to me. How pissed am I supposed to be? For how long? What if I'm not pissed? What if I am? What if it is what it is and I'm okay with that? What if some days I'm so massively NOT okay I could tear my skin from its bones while my screams penetrate the Earth's core? What if some days I rejoice because I no longer think and feel how I used to and revel in my own transformation?<br />
<br />
Cancer has changed everything. Every. Single. Thing. I'm living in a bubble. A rainbow-reflection filled, translucent bubble. Bubbles are permeable: people, energy, love come and go. Sometimes my bubble is clouded. Sometimes it's dazzling. Bubbles create more bubbles and spread....<br />
<br />
<b>"She didn't try to change the world. She changed herself and world rose up to meet her."</b><br />
- Unknown<br />
<br />
I'm still me but a new and <i>vastly improved</i> version of me. My focus has changed. I used to fixate on things I didn't have. I now relish in what I do have, <i>EVEN</i> if it's the smallest of things. When I start to feel sad or down, I immediately think of at least three things I'm grateful for. My friends... my friends.... my thousands and thousands of friends. My HUGE family. Lola. I am grateful to have such an adorable, cuddly, fat companion. Sunshine, a day in the park, mountain getaways, walking, Brown, my Wash Park apartment, traveling, green tea, sunshine, yoga, beets.... <i>It's so easy!</i> Instantly, my mood improves. I've learned I can and will have an amazing day/week/month just by telling myself so. I go to bed saying, "Tomorrow will be a good day." <i>And</i> wake up saying, "Today will be a good day."<br />
<b><i>And it is. </i></b><br />
<br />
When I'm stressed about plans working out or something going well, I calm myself by thinking, "Everything will work out." <b><i>And it does. </i></b><br />
<br />
I am learning to love myself and forgive myself. The body works in such wondrous/mysterious ways. In the book <u>Anatomy of the Spirit</u>, Dr. Myss' explains how every illness corresponds to a pattern of emotional and psychological stresses, beliefs, and attitudes that have influenced corresponding areas of the human body. Our emotions and experiences become part of our DNA. Harboring guilt, shame, resentment towards others and <i>myself</i> is just as toxic as eating McDonalds everyday or smoking 2 packs a day. Your body is the vessel you're commanding while sailing the great ocean known as life. Just as ships do not stay pristine their entire lives, nor do our human forms. Ocean crafts undergo heavy wear; have dents, bruises, battering and even barnacles- things that have attached themselves for life. It's so important to be active in creating a safe environment for your body to thrive. This includes loving yourself and being easy on yourself. <br />
<br />
I've learned I'm an introvert, not extremely socially awkward as I'd believed for years. This has helped with understanding how I used alcohol to ease the discomfort of social situations I didn't have the "energy" for. This revelation has improved my life dramatically. Introverts aren't weirdos who hate socializing and stand in the corner during parties. We're weirdos who need alone time to recharge our "energy." Extroverts need to be around people to recharge. According to an amazing book I read called <u>The Intorvert Advantage</u>, by Marti Olsen Laney, Psy.D., introverts only make up around 25% of the population and our society is geared towards extroverts. Naturally, we're going to feel like something is wrong with us given the situation we live in. As with all things, there is a spectrum. This is true for introversion and extroversion. At any given moment or day, I (and any/all introverts around the world) can land on the spectrum from must-lock-myself-away-couldn't-deal-with-another-person introversion to I-must-chat-with-my-friends-over-a-glass-of-wine-or-I-will-shrivel-up-and-blow-away extroversion. Comprehending this epiphany contributes to my health greatly. I now say "No, I just need to be home," when my batteries are drained and I need to recharge. <br />
<br />
I have to be careful to paint an honest picture. I certainly don't walk on golden beams while doves tie silk ribbons in my hair <i>everyday</i>. I cherish the days it feels so but other days are nothing like a Disney movie. A few weekends ago, for example, could have been a disaster. Instead, I choose to make it great...<br />
<br />
<b>"I get by with a little help from my friends."</b> - The Beatles<br />
<br />
My usual response to cancer bad news is: hold up in my house, cry, sleep, cry, read, sleep and emerge 48 hours later feeling vise-pressed before finally breaking the news to friends and family. This time though, I took a different approach. Friday night, when my dysfunctional brain cells began to creep thoughts of canceling all plans and heading to my "Lindsey-received-bad-news-hidey-hole," I ignored them. I drove to my nearly aborted yoga class and remembered why this is my drug of choice. I followed my emotional cleanse with just a tiny bit of retail therapy, then dinner and dancing with Diane, Amy, and Carly (and their signifiant others). Edgewater Live brightened the evening as we jammed along with the fellas while they rocked for a good cause. Saturday, a splendid, sunny, Denver morning, began with coffee on the patio of Stella's with Sarah and Ashley. I was touched with kismet on my way to the coffee shop, spotting several bikes for sale at a yard sale. I've been saying how I want a bike and behold! My wishes were granted. For a mere seventy American dollars I procured said bicycle, winning the prized possession just in the knick of time. Earlier, the kind gentleman placed the bike aside for me under the pretense I'd return with greenbacks (I never have cash on me) at the conclusion of my coffee date. "There is she is!" he exclaimed as I approached, dough in hand. My bike nearly went to the the open-mouthed, awestruck, and indignant women standing there as I wheeled away my new accessory. They were certain I wasn't returning... but return I did!<br />
<br />
Following my bike purchase I walked around the park a few times and then laid out a blanket to relax. While the sun drenched my skin in vitamin D, I streamed a yoga podcast to my phone and found my inner peace. An exquisite day.<br />
<br />
I digressed just a bit there and you may be wondering what is the "cancer bad news" I mentioned. Three days after my meeting with Dr. Eadens, he called with the results of my blood work and MRI. Ideally, he would have had these results to discuss at my appointment but Kaiser isn't known for being that on top of things. I don't blame Señior Eadens for how this went down, but I can (and will) make a few suggestions. First, please don't call me at 6:30 in the evening when you're already out of the office. I can't return your call. Second, don't leave a cryptic message, "I've received the results of your gastrin levels and MRI and I want to talk to you about them." This is not helpful to my state of well-being... to say the least. That night I tried everything I could think of to calm down-- hot shower, tea, Lola cuddles. I managed to maintain minimal freak-out mode, sliced my finger open while juicing beets, and returned his call the next day at lunch. <br />
<br />
The MRI showed growth in some of the tumors. One of the tumors grew by half a centimeter and two of them grew by a full centimeter. There are no new tumors WHICH IS STUPENDOUS. My gastrin level, the tumor marker we've used as a progress monitor, doubled since my previous blood tests in February. Although it is far below the highest of close to 5,000, it's still concerning. As I said, gastrin is the hormone my hormone-secreting neuroendocrine tumors produce. A normal humans' gastrin level is below 100. Mine is currently 628, doubled from my post-surgery 300 range. <br />
<br />
When the injections of octreotide began, we started at the lowest dose. Double the flavor, double the fun. I received my monthly injection at the beginning of May so I went back a week later for another one. Next month the dose will be doubled. I'll have another scan and blood work first thing in August and we'll see what those little suckers were up to this summer.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>"The pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."</b> -Winston Churchill<br />
<br />
Drahota Lives is becoming a nonprofit foundation. I'm currently drafting our mission statement and devising the business model. The love shall spread as we hold another "big party" and so much more. The magnitude of love showered upon me is so great I couldn't possibly govern it all. It will pass though me/Drahota Lives to others in need. Stand by for more info on this little project of mine as I get things up and running. You may be on hold for a bit as I'm traveling this summer and a horrid procrastinator. In my mind, everything is <i>already</i> up and running. <br />
<br />
<br />
I am looking at a rainbow spanning the sky as I sit here typing about this amazing day. I swear I'm not making this up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-48686077769112126442014-04-13T09:57:00.001-06:002014-11-08T18:02:53.966-07:00Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice <br />
As it turns out, I'm not as interesting or funny in person as in text. <br />
<br />
<i>(Perhaps I'm neither of these things in text either.) </i><br />
<br />
In the past week, I eagerly ran around blabbing how I was going to create a video post for my next blog entry. I was super excited to catch up with every tween on the planet who regularly posts on YouTube. I geeked out over Spring Break, went to the Apple store, and learned how to make movies. But, my recording was so lame even <i>I</i> was bored with myself. <br />
<br />
Preparing to record I was so bonkers I knocked over my favorite plant, killing <i>yet another</i> jade tree, anxiety-ate my weight in granola, sweated for the first time in ages (I'm always freezing) and adjusted everything 4 zillion times. All so I could sit alone in my home and talk to my computer. All of which could and would eventually be edited. I'm such a weirdo. Alright then, Universe, I will write.... not utilize my newly-acquired iMovie skills. The Universe (or God or Allah or Buddha, whatever you prefer) has been telling me lots as of late, most of which you'll read below. All of it was recorded but I'll spare you thirty minutes of yawning through my lame vid. I plan to edit and spruce up my recording so it may appear here someday. But not yet (or ever). <br />
<br />
Before I begin all the granola-eating hippy talk, I'll give you a quick run down about what is happening with the little fellas residing in my liver. Half a dozen tumors remain. I'm receiving monthly injections of Octreotide aka Sandostatin. This lovely shot is administered at the hospital via large needle to my back side. I treat myself to vegan ice cream in a gluten free cone at Sweet Action Ice Cream Shop - my FAVE- after these special hospital visits. If this medication does as it's supposed to, the tumors will not grow any further. The chip on my shoulder comes from the fact it doesn't shrink or eliminate cancer, just keeps it from growing. Personally, I'm done with cancer, ready for it to be gone, brush off my shoulder and be on my merry way. <br />
<br />
I will have an MRI in May to compare with the MRI from February taken at my 6 week post-surgery check up. Tumor growth will be monitored every two months. If there isn't growth or change, we stick with the injections, pun intended (<i>wink</i>). If there is change or growth in the tumors, the plan will change at that time.<br />
<br />
The good news is I'm feeling pretty great. I have an addiction and it's called YOGA. For a few weeks now, I've been able to regularly attend yoga classes of all kinds and my body loves it. Almost as equally exciting, I went for a walk in the park recently and decided to try running. Ready for this? I was actually able to jog for about 3 minutes! Yay! Me! I'm continuing acupuncture, of course, my other drug of choice. In fact, as I sit here composing this non-video post, I just ate an amazing organic, gluten-free sandwich and drank a veggie juice at another of my FAVE places, Parsley, following acupuncture which was preceded by early morning yoga. Ahhh, yeah. <br />
<br />
Just a year ago I knew very little about what I was putting in my body. A lot can change in a short amount of time. Now, people are coming to <i>me</i> for advice about being vegetarian, gluten-free, and what herbal supplements to use. <b>Sadly, I'm grossly under-qualified to answer anyone's questions about diet and nutrition</b>... but I <i><b>can</b></i> tell you what I'm up to. This is my blog after all (<i>wink</i>). Prepare yourself for an adventure! You're about to go on a journey through the time continuum of my eating habits. It's like Space Mountain at Disney World, except not fun or exciting. However, you could wear Mickey ears while reading this and sit in the sauna to simulate Florida weather.<br />
<br />
Juicing, smoothies, supplements, and changes in my diet are ways for me to take care of my body and ailments as naturally as possible. Western doctors were making it rain pills. I went to the doctor for help with digestion, but that Rx caused headaches, so I was given a prescription for headaches... which came with another set of side effects for which I received more pills.... and so on and so forth.... No thank you. There is a time and place for pills and I'm not Rx free by any means. I'm merely looking for balance. <br />
<br />
Warning: hippy talk about to commence, if you're interested, please continue reading. If not, check ya later, man. Peace and love. <br />
<br />
I eat organically as much as possible. Someday I'll grow my own food but until then, I'm at the mercy of Whole Foods. I think about the bombardment of chemicals my body endured for nearly 30 years and it's a wonder I've made it this long. (Actually, it's a wonder I've made it this long not just because of how I used to eat.) Processed foods are not good. I avoid them as much as possible. Our bodies are not designed to digest them. I think I <i>only</i> ate processed foods during my college years.... If you've never had Amigo's Mexi-fries at 2 am, you haven't lived. In the years that followed, we all heard the negative effects of processed foods and I cut down some. Now, I've almost completely cut out all processed foods. Yay! Me! I'm not going to beat myself up when I want some fries, but I certainly won't be pulling into a McDonald's drive-thru to get them. <br />
<br />
I've been vegetarian for years but moved further towards vegan on the spectrum, giving up diary and eggs. Milk has been out of my life for many years, it's weird being a member of the only species to drink the milk of another species. Looking to become vegetarian or vegan? I'd recommend reading <u>The China Study</u>. It's a great guide to all things nutrition and gives lots of info about plant-based diets (such as mine when I'm not at oyster happy hour.) I can't help but have sea food from time to time. It's so delicious. But it also freaks me out sometimes. Again, I'm weird.<br />
<br />
I'm fairly new to juicing and it pretty much rocks my world. Juicing is exactly what it sounds like: you take a bunch of steroids. Oh wait, that's the <i>OTHER</i> kind of juicing. Right right, I'm not Lance Armstrong. I was confused for a second. Besides, my wrist bands are WAY cooler. (Love you, cuz!) I was turned on to juicing by Shelley and Lyndsey. Juicing is taking the fruits and veggies you love and making them into juice (thank you Captain Obvious). This is an excellent way to get nutrition without having to Bugs Bunny-munch carrots all day. My favorite recipe right now is celery, apples, ginger, and lemon. My hands and feet were swelling after surgery so I looked into it; celery is a natural way to reduce swelling so there are stringy, green bits a-flying when my juicer is powered up. In the beginning I was a wild woman juicing kale, cucumber, celery, apple, carrot, lemon, and ginger. I've toned it down a little. Since I'm notoriously late everywhere I go, I juice a ton of fruit/veggies in the beginning of the week and put it in a large pitcher. Throughout the week I fill up a water bottle as I'm sprinting out the door on my way to work and alakzam! I have nutrition for my day.<br />
<br />
Smoothies started when Betsy bought me a Nutribullet. Best. Present. Ever. In a (brief) moment of genius, I realized I should use the pulp from my juicing endeavors <i>in</i> my smoothies. My current smoothie recipe includes apple and celery/lemon/ginger pulp, frozen berries, maca powder (this is the ginseng of South America), goji berries, almonds, pumpkin seeds, and <a href="http://hippocratesinst.org/wheatgrass/benefits-of-wheatgrass" target="_blank">wheatgrass</a>. After blending, I usually add some vanilla flaxseed milk for flavor, B-12 and astragalus for its <a href="http://umm.edu/health/medical/altmed/herb/astragalus" target="_blank">supreme immune bolstering plus so much more</a>. All organic, of course.<br />
<br />
Short and simple: squeeze a <a href="http://healthimpactnews.com/2013/45-uses-for-lemons-that-will-change-your-life/" target="_blank">lemon</a> in your water. Switch to green tea instead of coffee. Green tea has about one fourth of the caffeine of coffee so you still get a little kick but it won't dehydrate you like coffee does. Plus, it's <a href="http://www.lifehack.org/articles/lifestyle/11-benefits-of-green-tea-that-you-didnt-know-about.html" target="_blank">badass</a>.<br />
<br />
I'm sure you've picked up on my gluten-free vibe by now, even though I'm so subtle about it. I have what's known in the GF World as an "intolerance." I'm not full on Celiac. I can eat foods from kitchens with cross-contamination and a little bit of gluten usually doesn't bother me greatly. If I were to eat, say, a piece of bread though, it's a different story. The misery that ensues is pretty intense. If you've never experienced "basketball tummy" you're a fortunate human being. It's exactly what it sounds like: you've swallowed a basketball which gives you the look of being 6 months pregnant and sticks around for <i>at least</i> 48 hours. During these lovely 48 hours, you're not hungry <i>at all....</i> but your brain tells you to eat because that's what humans do to remain living. So, you make food or order dinner and try a bite.... only to become completely satiated after two forkfulls. If I were a spy captured by the Russians, this is how they'd get me to break.<br />
<br />
Gluten-free can be tricksey. When I first started eating this way, I assumed I was doomed to the life of a bunny as salad seemed like my only option. This is not true. I'm fortunate to live in an urban setting where I have many options for grocery shopping and restaurants. If you do not have this luxury, good luck to you. Just kidding! My experience is mostly trial and error. I've done some research and found what works for me. I joke about being a "granola-eating hippy," but seriously, granola is delicious. I love granola. Especially Boulder Granola but also Kind Granola, which is more wildly sold. Eat it as a snack on the go or pour some almond or flaxseed milk over it for a yummy breakfast/lunch/dinner. You can use rice flour for baking anything your heart desires such as bread or cupcakes... ummmm... cupcakes. <a href="http://www.whfoods.com/genpage.php?tname=foodspice&dbid=142" target="_blank">Quinoa</a> and <a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/dinner-quick-10-flavorful-cous-96007" target="_blank">couscous</a> are gluten free. Both can be made with some veggies for a delicious meal or side dish. I'm spoiled because my mama makes me bowls of quinoa with veggies and all I have to do is heat them up. I'd recommend reading <u>Wheat Belly</u> for <i>actual</i> expert insight on this topic.<br />
<br />
Make your own protein bars, or get my dad to make them! He's a pro! (He also makes homemade puppy treats so hit him up for some of those, too. Fido will thank you.) Homemade protein bar recipe musts-haves: oats (gluten-free if you'd like), peanut butter, and almonds or any kind of nut (sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't). Add a natural sweetener like <a href="http://healthimpactnews.com/2014/the-health-benefits-of-maple-syrup-why-you-should-replace-processed-sugar-with-maple-syrup/" target="_blank">maple syrup</a> or honey - if it's from the region where you live, it can help you build an immunity to local pollens which helps with allergies. Other ingredients to toss in: chia seeds for <a href="http://www.doctoroz.com/blog/lindsey-duncan-nd-cn/chia-ancient-super-secret" target="_blank">fiber</a>, flax seeds for <a href="http://www.whfoods.com/genpage.php?tname=foodspice&dbid=81" target="_blank">Omegas</a>, maca powder for <a href="http://www.vegkitchen.com/nutrition/7-top-health-benefits-of-maca/" target="_blank">energy and balance</a>, coconut oil <a href="http://www.doctoroz.com/videos/surprising-health-benefits-coconut-oil" target="_blank">for thousands of reasons</a>, dark chocolate just because it's amazing and also <a href="http://healthimpactnews.com/2014/dark-chocolates-health-secrets-revealed-in-new-studies/" target="_blank">these reasons</a>. The world is your oyster here (be careful if you see me coming at you with some horseradish), add whatever you'd like. Gluten-free? Yes. Organic? Yes. Chocolatey? Yes. Fruity? Yes. <br />
<br />
<br />
As previously stated, I'm<b><i> not</i></b> an expert. I've been listening to my body and obeying it's orders. The first time in my life I'm obeyed orders... and they were given by me. Go figure. <br />
<br />
Take a moment. Listen to your body. What is it telling you? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-85763769829209989932014-02-18T19:43:00.001-07:002014-11-08T18:02:30.618-07:00Alligator Food <div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Surgery is complete and I live to tell the tale.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And the tale goes as thus:</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Surgery is bonkers. I think we'll call this a one and done gig. In my true air-headed fashion, I didn't give my surgery much thought. The momentum and excitement Mayo's treatment options offered, namely this surgery, grasped ahold of my energy. I didn't stop to consider where they'd cut me open, I didn't think about what would happen while they were in there, I didn't take into account how other parts of my body would be effected, and there were very little thoughts of recovery..... the list goes on. Following surgery, I heard this phrase from my surgeons about 73 times, "You've had a <b><i>major</i></b> surgery." To which I'd weakly smile, raise my eyebrows (one action I could perform without any pain) and reply, "Oh." I guess it's kind of a big deal when the best of the best are telling you so.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So what happened? One moment I'm in the daze of a 4:00 am wake up time, slipping into a stylish hospital gown and refusing the Tylenol part of the antibiotic/drug bundle you're given in anticipation of surgery. The nurses are bit frazzled by my dissent but Tylenol, which is acetaminophen, metabolizes in the liver and several studies document it's harsh effects on the organ. Another part of the pre-operation preparations is the removal of all jewelry. I complied. And then I was asked by everyone I ran into from this point on to remove my necklace. To which I politely replied, "It doesn't come off." The pendant in question was found by Trent, who also purchased one, at a museum in Turkey this summer and tied around my neck shortly there after. Where it remains to this day. A few days into my hospital stay, during one of his daily visits, the chief resident informed me the entire surgical team wanted to know the story behind my necklace. You can read my necklace's story at havenecklacewillnotremove.blogspot.com*</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I hopped aboard my chariot and was wheeled to the prep room. While I unsuccessfully scanned the ceiling for something to entertain me, entertainment arrived in the form of a very attractive anesthesiologist. Naturally, I stumbled over my words and gave him good cause to wonder if I have brain damage (I do). I looked liked I'd been plucked off the set of the Walking Dead and all I could think of was, <i>I can't wait to tell Dad about this!</i> Why the anticipation of discussing dapper anesthesiologists with my father??? Back in May 2013 when Dad accompanied me to my biopsy, the anesthesiologist for this procedure was <i>also</i> ridiculously handsome. So much so, he even amazed my father. "Wow. He was good-looking," Dad professed following his exit from my room upon the completion of our pre-procedure meeting. I had to wipe the drool from my mouth and regain my composure in order to adamentaly agree.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A short time later, someone manifested behind my bed and propelled me towards my impending fate. We rounded a corner to enter the operating room and suddenly, I was among a horde of doctors/surgeons/residents/students. They descended upon me like a swarm of bees. Medical things and stuffs were hooked up, several IVs were inserted and I was moved onto my side so the anesthesia could be administered into my spine. A disembodied voice asked, "Are you ready to get drunk?" I assumed he was questioning my readiness to go under and I guess I was. The very next moment, it was 8 o'clock at night. I was uncontrollably heaving while my belly ripped open, blow-torch igniting my insides and my eyes desperately sought help from anyone in the room who could make ANY of it stop. My dear friend "little button" came to the rescue. I could push it as much as I wanted but the goods were only released every 10 minutes. I finally expelled a small amount of brown liquid into a plastic container, squelching the heaving. I would not consume solid food for several subsequent days.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So what happened between the time I was put under until I was awoken? They sliced me open from my ribs to my belly button: a full 6 inches. The surgery lasted about 5 hours during which Dr. Nagorney cut out the primary tumor in my pancreas, half of my liver, all of my gallbladder and spleen. He was able to leave about 40/50% of my pancreas. The tumor grew into the pancreatic bile duct, but they were able to extract it and suture the duct. Dr. Nagorney said this is very unusual and compared it to firework snakes I watched growing from tiny little hockey puck-shaped cylinders each July during my childhood. My pancreas will continue to function keeping me from becoming diabetic and eventually releasing me from enzymes.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Dr. Nagorney aptly took care of about 90% of the liver tumors. This was done by knife or fire.... the medical terms are resection and ablation. A few small spots remain. They either didn't show up on on the scan and/or Dr. Nagorney felt the liver had been stressed enough. Some lymph nodes were biopsied but returned with a clean bill of health, no cancer there! </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I remained in the hospital for 6 days. The day after surgery I was visited by Handsome Anesthesiologist. He inquired about how I was feeling and how everything went. In my drugged and unshowered state I again responded with words that aren't actually English and still looked like a zombie, just one that had been undead a lot longer. Dad was there and again confirmed the attractiveness of the person who keeps me in dreamland during all my fun procedures. Other activities that day included the removal of my bandages. <i>Holy unending incision, Batman!</i> I immediately fell in love with it. It was asked of me to get out of bed and walk. I was okay with this idea until the actual movement began. When your stomach muscles are cleaved in order to reach your internal organs, a few ordinary tasks become mighty difficult. Take sitting up for example, this was no longer an action I could perform. Instead, on this day and for the foreseeable future, I had to roll onto my side and push myself into a sitting position. This usually took awhile and resembled a freshly caught fish flailing about on the prow of a boat. Laying back down was even worse. Things continued along these lines for several days. I slept all the time and found solace in my little button friend. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Upon my discharge from the hospital, we stayed in Rochester another night in case of any emergencies (there were none). The next morning my body rebelled against the imminent car ride made longer by the fact we must stop every hour so I could walk in the continued effort to avoid blood clots. Blood clots = Bad news. I awoke with dreadful nausea and laid in bed while Mom and Dad packed my stuff and wheelchaired me to the car. From there I consumed morphine and slept for the duration of the journey to my parents' house in Nebraska, just waking up long enough to poorly perform my required walking.... in my pj's. Blah, blah, blah, pain and recovery. MORE IMPORTANTLY, I will have a rad scar. I always look forward to summer but this year more than ever. I can't wait to don my bikini and introduce my latest body art to the world.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At the 5-week post-surgery mark, I return to Mayo. We will discuss the next steps for treatment at my appointment with the oncologist. In other words, he will propose ideas and I'll decide if I accept or decline.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If I'm to be "jet-setting" to and fro for doctors visits and the like, I'm compiling a wish list. I live in a fantasy world. First on the list: a private jet. Second on the list: Mayo moves to a warm, tropical place. Third on the list: it's all free! Fourth on the list: I don't actually have to do any of this because my cancer is gone!</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Return trip to Mayo is complete and I live to tell the tale.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And the tale goes as thus:</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One month and some change post-surgery, I found myself airborne. Destination: the frigid, flat lands of Minnesota. Saving grace: Sherp in tow. Attitude: favorable.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In true Mayo fashion they run a tight ship, so we powered through five appointments in one day like rock stars. Sherp aided our spirits throughout the day with laughing fits (ouch- tummy muscles are still sore.... but it was SO worth it), food/water deliveries, and hair stroking when I just couldn't hold the tears back any longer. First up was blood tests, then a chest x-ray since I've been having trouble breathing, followed by an MRI, a meeting with my surgical team and finally the oncologist. Dr. Nagourney and Dr. Paul, the chief resident, confirmed my liver has grown and regenerated as expected. It's basically back to the size it was before surgery. When a liver regenerates, it's not an exact replica of the liver before operating. The analogy Dr. Paul used was this: it's not like a tree growing a new leaf, it's more like the tree is bushier. I'm not sure I get this because I'm not sure there is a difference between those two things. But I'll go with it because he has a medical degree and I do not. </span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Things were running as smoothly as a bobsled shooting down an Olympic track until the very last appointment. I like to compare it to the first play of this year's Super Bowl. Something good must come from that ludicrous debacle so I redeem my Broncos by allowing them to provide me with yet another analogy.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>It's the big game. The game of my life, if you will. I've got my gear and #18 jersey on; the back reads Drahota-Manning. I've just won numerous awards like the "I Can Sit up by Myself," "Showering Doesn't Hurt and Completely Drain All my Energy Anymore," and "Walking Upright" to name a few. As I step onto the field I'm feeling better than I have in weeks. All pre-game tests are done efficiently and on or even before (!) their scheduled times. I step up to take the first snap. In my mind I see how it all ends: I slow-motion lift the immaculately polished trophy over my head as the raining confetti sticks to my face and I don't care because I just won the freaking Super Bowl!!! In reality, the ball is hiked over my head while I'm looking the other way and I bumble like a fool in an attempt to catch it.... but alas, I do not.</i></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Again, in true Lindsey-blonde-cancerbrain fashion, I completely put the lingering tumors out of my head. Apparently I'm very good at this. If you have any radical secrets you need to get off your chest, I'm your gal. Tell me anything! I'll have it forgotten in no time flat. Well these little _</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><i>(insert word of choice)</i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">_ are not going to be forgotten. They're growing like the Seahawks' defense: aggressively. In an effort to halt this growth, Dr. Rubin's recommends I begin using Sandostatin in the form of a monthly shot. I do not like this idea. The sole purpose of this medication is to block the gastrin (secreted from my tumors as they're neuroendocrine carcinomas) and possibly (a good possibility but still just a possibility - as is everything in the cancer world) stop the growth of these tumors. This medication will NOT shrink or eliminate the tumors. Now the disease has been surgically debulked and the half dozen surviving tumors can be addressed with this drug. We'll see if it blocks their progress. I guess I will oblige and give it shot (pun intended) for a few months. Sigh.... sigh.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My gallant return to Mayo ended up not being so gallant.... Sigh (again). For me, surgery was the cure and I was done and the future was sapphire skies full of lemon sunshine. Negative, Ghostrider.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Time to rework my view of reality... once again.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">*This is not a real website. It is an attempt at humor.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-27514828368153282192014-01-07T15:15:00.001-07:002014-11-01T16:06:51.036-06:00Chopped LiverIt takes a village to raise a child. <br />
<br />
No truer words have ever been uttered, especially when it comes to this <i>[tall, slightly older]</i> child. People have been insanely generous with their donations <b>*** </b>pause for proper recognition of this amazing outpouring which will not only save my life because I'll have my surgery at Mayo, a center of excellence... but save me from financial ruin <b>*** </b> There have been messages and hugs and love and offers of help in so many ways. People have offered assistance with my taxes, help when I run out of sick days at work, and of course the fundraisers! <br />
<br />
My favorite California girl and teacher extraordinaire, Amy Salinger, decided very early this school year she would be taking over for me when I needed to be gone from school. This little lady was taking the year off but didn't hesitate one bit to return to Brown when she made her proclamation as my long-term substitute. HUGE burden lifted from my shoulders. She took over teaching while I was out for my second round of chemo and is currently somewhere at Brown right now, probably wrangling Kindergartners... one of my favorite things about my job! Have I mentioned I love my job? I know everything in our classroom is running smoothly and kids love seeing her everyday. This is brilliant, Elder Sal! Thank you (times one zillion).<br />
<br />
In a stroke of grandeur and angelic compassion Kim Patton, a mother at my school, sent me an email with a suggestion of some insurance I should look into. I had no idea this option even existed and my Colorado residency pays off once again as it's only offered in the Centennial State. Her message was very detailed and even included accounts of what happened when she called to inquire on my behalf. This wonderful woman has substantially cut my impending medical debt and saved me from a growing mound of stress. Kaiser denied my referral to Mayo and the appeal... rendering me without coverage. <br />
<br />
I have purchased the additional insurance Kim suggested. I did so by the proper deadline and my coverage began January 1, 2014. Hip, hip, HOORAY! I called to give Mayo this information. When the business office called back, I was hesitantly told my new insurance would only provide 50% coverage. To which I jubilantly exclaimed, "That's wonderful!" Fifty percent is leaps and bounds better than <i><b>nothing</b></i>! My reaction of merriment was again met with surprise when she stated I will have a significant deductible. "Okay! No problem!" Instead of walking in the door with the quoted amount of $57,000 or be turned away (and that was just the downpayment, not the total for surgery and subsequent hospital stay), now I can let the bills roll in and pay them as they come with the assets gained from the fundraisers. I believe we can now stop throwing around the "B word" as well. That's <i>bankruptcy</i>, but the way, in case you were thinking of the other B word.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So, the time is now. We met with the Mayo surgeons today and I couldn't be more convinced I'm in the right place. If you are particularly attached to any of my internal organs, speak now or forever hold your peace. Come tomorrow, I'll be a little thinner in the midsection. My aunt Deb suggested they install a zipper so if we have to go back in, it's easy access. I picture my belly looking like a tub of ice cream with a bunch of scoops missing. <i>Is anyone taking this seriously???</i> I hope not, it's going to be brilliant! Laughter truly <i>is</i> the best medicine.<br />
<br />
<br />
Catch ya on the flip side!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This post is dedicated to you, the readers of this blog. When I came up short again and again, in the words of the great Theodore Roosevelt, you <a href="http://www.theodore-roosevelt.com/trsorbonnespeech.html" target="_blank">entered the arena</a> with me and together we dared greatly. My face was marred with dust and sweat and blood (and tears), but this week I rise in triumph and it's because you stood with me and now hold my arm up like a boxing referee as we declare victory.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-4393932487836661642013-12-16T19:54:00.000-07:002014-11-01T16:06:10.708-06:00Farmer's Market You know that radiant, effervescent feeling you get on a sunny stroll through the farmer's market? Your face is warm and the air smells earthy like days of long ago. Or the feeling of sheer awe when you first glimpse the colors of a brilliant sunset and your breath catches at the impossible beauty. Or the moment of accomplishment at the end of a daunting task which was certain to fail but didn't and you're euphoric with jubilation. The past month of my life can be described as far exceeding the combination of all these. <br />
<br />
It began with my eyes blinking in disbelief as a smile parted my lips and spread across my face… and over all the land. This of course was my reaction to the Mayo doctor's explanation of the surgery he can perform that will give me, in his words, "a long life." My head detached like a child letting go of a balloon and it floated into the sapphire sky; smile permanantly affixed. Amazement mixed with elation and I time-lapse bloomed into a new person at that very second. My future was returned to me. I will live.<br />
<br />
After my balloon head euphorically floated throughout the galaxy for 24 hours, the attached string was nabbed and brought gently, lovingly back to the best place on Earth, Brown International Elementary School. It was revealed to the Brown community I've been working on this little cancer thing for a bit now and without blinking an eye: <i><b>ACTION!</b></i><br />
<br />
A party.... for me???? Surely you jest. <br />
<br />
Jest they do not and PAR-TAY we did! Drahota Lives grew overnight from a miniature seedling to a colossal beanstalk. <b>Nicole and Steph, you are magical.</b> You two are like the (good) witches in Practical Magic. I'm totally on to you! The things you're making happen are supernatural and brilliant. Thank you for stretching your light, love, energy tentacles out into the world and wrapping them around me.<br />
<br />
Lead by the talented and ever so cool DeWayne Even, Edgewater Live rocked the party. A silent auction with weekend getaways to Breckenridge, Broncos tickets, Nuggets tickets, art by the ridiculously talented Barth Quenzer, plus <i><b>tons more</b></i> captivated even the young ones who guarded their merch in an effort not to be outbid. Good work Kalie and Kenzie for snatching up my painting! The massive food spread kept everyone nourished and the volunteer bartenders got 'em saucy. The evening was a HUGE hit in so so many ways. Money was raised, laughs were shared, smiles radiated, hugs were given out by the droves, we danced and sang. This is what life's about, sharing a miraculous evening with phenomenal, illustrious humans. <br />
<br />
As I said that night, I was not going to cry. I should have been a blubbering idiot at the sight of everyone who came out to help me. I simply couldn't cry; I was happy. I felt hopeful for the first time in a LONG time. The evening was magical. The life-extending news from Mayo and my adventure since is magical. Besides, I have cried far too many tears about this ordeal. I've been in the black trenches of agony/grief/suffering and I will not return. I recall one particularly heavy night I couldn't stop the tears... just days after my second chemo treatment I was trying to hid out when mom came to check on me. My attempt to wipe my eyes so she didn't see was futile. I had to fess up, "I'm just feeling sorry for myself." Talk about a dramatic shift in perspective. My mind is working overtime to contend with the torrent of emotions and information it's been slammed with over the past year. And now the pendulum has swung the opposite way and I'm inundated with joyous emotions. Sure there are days when I awake in the fog of reality and sadness creeps in. Those are the days I think back to my party, hug my friends, laugh with my students and it's instantly better.<br />
<br />
I choked up when I had a moment alone with Shelley and told her, "You realize we're friends forever, right." Shell played an integral part in organizing the party... and in being <i>right by my side</i> through this whole journey. <br />
<br />
And the tears came when this happened: two years ago I had a student we'll call "I." "I" was, for lack of a better word, challenging. I'm laughing just thinking about it! I love good challenge and I love "I" to infinity and beyond. His aunt, whom I got to know very well during "I's" tenure in my class tells me, "'I' has been working very hard and saving his money. He has something he wants to give you." He handed me a brand new one hundred dollar bill. <br />
<br />
The past weekend was dedicated to "Helping Lindsey Lick It." Basha's brainchild started Friday evening at the local ice cream shop, Little Man Ice Cream. They sold ice cream and kids came out to carol in their pj's in my honor. I desperately wanted to join but my body decided to remind me what all this is about and I was quite ill Thursday evening. I missed work on Friday and the Christmas party I was supposed to attend as arm candy (sorry, Bets). <br />
<br />
They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and Saturday proved this to be true with the weight of the moon. Not only did Niya, without having met me, donate the space in her rad establishment, Local 46, she told me she stayed up all night reading my blog. (I'm calling for an end to this blog causing a loss of sleep -- that goes for you too, Jenny!). Niya, thank you! I'm so lucky to have a new friend. Trent dressed as Santa and Artivore showed up to take pictures with the kids. A huge layout of breakfast foods filled our bellies and the kids sang songs. There was another silent auction. I put Lola Drahota down for the opening bid of $5 on a 2014 "Cat Lovers Against the Bomb" calendar (Cat Lovers Against the Bomb- what? hilarious). She won! I'm still laughing at Nicole announcing the winner by meowing into the microphone. <br />
<br />
A few students spoke. Lucy read the poem she wrote for me. (I hope you don't mind I'm sharing, Lucy, this is too angelic to keep to myself.) <br />
Just try and keep a dry eye, I certainly couldn't:<br />
<br />
Feeling scared and unprepared are the feelings we all share.<br />
And whatever you do I'll always be there for you.<br />
You mean a lot to me.<br />
And you make me feel like I am who ever I want to be.<br />
I love dogs and you're a crazy cat lover, but that doesn't matter.<br />
Miss Drahota you are a determined, hekava good teacher on a mission to amaze everybody.<br />
You are awesome, strong-hearted, and beautiful.<br />
I love you Miss Drahota you are my favorite teacher ever.<br />
<br />
<b>I have the best job in the universe.</b> <br />
<br />
Saturday afternoon in the Highlands, while doing a little shopping and grabbing a chai with Vivek, I walked out of a store and exclaimed, "That's me!" I was staring at the "Help LINDSEY Lick It" poster hanging in the storefront. As we strolled down the street, we discovered this poster adorning many of the boutiques' windows. I constantly struggle with the words to express my deep and ever-growing gratitude, I will never find them to express how it feels to have your name on posters all over north Denver. Stunning, unbelievable, humbling, wild, stirring. That's a start.<br />
<br />
Basha, you better be resting in bed! I demand you sleep. You have far exceeded the call of philanthropic work with all the events of last weekend! Thank you for taking on my cause,<b> you extraordinary, enchanted woman</b>! <br />
<br />
The weekend ended at Jolene's house where the masses convened to have their jewelry cleaned... and I'm sure the wine lure a few too. Monica and Jolene, tirelessly returned the sparkle to the diamonds that adorn the women of Brown so they can shine even brighter! <br />
<br />
I'm not a natural receiver, so taking in all this attention, concern, and money (especially the money) is a new development for me and I'm really trying. I work every moment on processing the monumental outpouring of love I've received over the past several months. I'll be processing and applying it for years to come. I will ride this love tsunami right over cancer's stupid head and beyond. <br />
<br />
I'm loving my life full of yoga, acupuncture, painting, writing, reading, juicing, friends, new friends, family, school, love and happiness.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm missing names and I'm sorry. I don't know the extent of who has done what. Please know that your dazzling display of kindness will not go unnoticed. <b>I <i>will </i>pay every cent and good deed forward. </b> I've got a few ideas about how to do this. I might have the doctors clone me so I can make it all happen. They can do that at Mayo, right? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-21861957012183410852013-12-12T16:04:00.002-07:002013-12-12T16:04:49.191-07:00Olive BranchAfter riding high on the rainbows and moonbeams of what has been the past month and probably the best of my life, I'm on the verge of full-on Godzilla mode (again). <br />
<br />
It would seem as though I have developed a vendetta against medical professionals but this is not the case. Doctors who a) speak to the wrong person during my <b><i>cancer treatment</i></b> consultation (<a href="http://havecancermustblog.blogspot.com/2013/10/bananapants.html" target="_blank">see Bananapants</a>) and/or b) decline to write me a referral quickly from my favor. I've favorably mentioned a certain Kaiser surgeon several times in this lil blog o' mine. I can no longer do so. <br />
<br />
It all started Tuesday morning when I put in a little call to Kaiser. I assumed it would be quick and relatively painless.... I should have known better (dang my internal optimism). I was inquiring into the status of my referral to Mayo for my surgery, which is slated for January 8th. Everyone I've spoken with is certain a referral will be denied but <b>sheer refusal</b> to write said referral??? That was completely unexpected. The aforementioned surgeon, without giving me a heads up, noted in my file that no referral would take place because he thinks they can perform the surgery I need at Kaiser. The answer is no, you can't. Mayo has been doing this for years and pioneered the treatment for my type of cancer. I need a neuroendrocrine expert. This has been my mantra for months and I'm not going to stop chanting it now. The hospitals with neuroendrocrine expertise are Mayo and John Hopkins according to my research. Mayo wins because it's closer than the east coast. Kaiser and UC Hospital ruled out live donor liver transplant (down the road), Mayo put it back on the table. Mayo will ablate the liver tumors, Kaiser chemoed them before and without concern for the primary tumor in the pancreas. Everything they say at Mayo makes sense. It is clear, concise and precise. It's what I've craved all along.<br />
<br />
The Kaiser surgeon talked me into an invasive surgery, the Whipple, that would have completely altered my life. Both UC Hospital and Mayo agree that is <b>not</b> the best treatment. Both UC Hospital and Mayo agree the primary, pancreatic tumor is in the body of the pancreas and can be<b> saved in part</b>. The Kaiser surgeon repeatedly explained it's in the head of the pancreas and must be fully removed. <br />
<br />
A few tears, massive stress, and one zillion phone calls later.... Mayo is sending the request for the surgery referral. Victory! A measly victory but a victory nonetheless. I'll take them any way they come! Plus, I've been winning a lot lately so this little bump in the road isn't going to impede my army as we continue the march into battle. <br />
<br />
After Mayo sends the request, Kaiser can approve or deny it -- something I thought was already in the works. At least the process is now started. If we're denied we can appeal. Since Kaiser is an HMO, a fantastic idea for health care until you get a rare cancer, they will probably not cover my surgery. We called the Mayo business office and asked for an estimate on my surgery and subsequent hospital stay. They quoted numbers that don't exist in Teachersalaryland where I live. We are to walk in the door with an amount that is well above what I make in an entire year or I will be turned away. Okay, laugh it off. Whatever happens will happen. Plus, my army is on fire right now and they are rocking the fundraising house! <br />
<br />
(Quick side note: Every ounce of my being rejects <i>any</i> idea of <i>anyone</i> giving me <i>any</i> money. This is probably the hardest part of having cancer, honestly. I'm learning that receiving the gifts people are willing to sacrifice from their own hard work is a lesson in deep humility and gratitude. My fruitless search for the words to thank everyone continues in amplitude. They will come someday, somehow, someway.) <br />
<br />
So, Godzilla transformation adverted (again). I don't hate doctors or the surgeon referenced several times in this post (see other posts for info about him, Mayo, and all things Lindsey/cancer related). I'm simply trying to get cancer out of my body. I'm not on the warpath against surgeons, Kaiser, or the medical system. Although, it would be a lie if I said I hadn't thought about it a time or two or twenty. My motives are to figure out how to have cancer. How do I cope with this entity in my body which causes me daily discomfort and pain? I've learned there is no clear process or list of procedures. All I can do is listen to my body/heart/soul/mind. They say Mayo is the best place for me to receive the treatment and surgery I need. I will listen as I have done before.<br />
<br />
I'm just a girl who wants to get better.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-67157191876196100102013-11-18T21:10:00.001-07:002014-10-11T17:52:37.516-06:00Humble Pie <div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I'm a fairly private person. My introvert side whipped into a frenzy when I opted to come out of the cancer closet last week. Word is spreading in the community and to our families at school. It was no easy task, but coming out has made me privy to the grandest event I've ever witnessed. Everyone is exuding the most brilliant energy. There is a golden aura encapsulating the world emulating from people’s love and light. A whirlwind of human greatness swirls around me and I’ve got the best seat in the house. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cancer, you may have bested me before but now you're down in the count. Prepare to be defeated. You gained the upper hand when it was just me and my small band of Merrymen. We’re <b>not</b> easily conquered. <i>AND</i> now we have an army. The people by my side has multiplied ten fold. Checkmate. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A Turkish proverb states, "Tell me who your friend is and I will tell you who you are." In this essence, I am Jenn's brilliance, Sarah's exuberance, Tiff's animation, Lyndsey’s generosity, Betsy's empathy, Shelley's vivacity, Dad's strength, Susan’s tenacity, Aunt Deb’s consideration and the Brown Moms' fervor. PLUS the millions of traits bestowed upon me by everyone I didn’t name... and so desperately want to name. I’ll start a new blog and call it: I Want To Thank Everyone Personally But Can’t So I’m Writing Your Name On This Blog Which is Not Even Close to Being Good Enough But I Don’t Know How Else to Thank You and I’m Getting Buried Under a Mountain of Indebtedness. That has a nice ring to it. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The outpouring of love from the Brown community has been purely epic/monumental/heroic. The masses are rallied to my side and the flood gates opened. Students are starting to hear about me from their parents. With a gentle tone and loving smile I ask the kids who have “that look” if there is anything they want to talk to me about. Their precious and perfect answer, alongside an expression of concern and compassion, is a variation of, “I’m sorry to hear you have cancer.” Questions about how I’m feeling follow. I assure them I'm doing GREAT. “I’ve found some really good doctors who are going to help me.” I receive lots of hugs. Today, I was excitedly handed an envelope. Upon opening it, I found a handmade card with a picture of a kitty that reads, "I hope this will help".... and six dollars. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Jenn Stuart, marketing revolutionary and graphic designer extraordinaire, has secured my place in history with the dawn of Drahota Lives and <a href="http://www.drahotalives.com/"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">www.drahotalives.com</span></a>. Anyone who doesn't know what to do with a few extra bucks can get rid of them <a href="http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/drahota-lives-/106968">here</a>. Rest assured, this body you're helping me fix will be amply taken care of. I'm very good about my diet, with the occasional exception of a mini Snickers self-propelling itself into my mouth. I can’t control that. I always wear my seat belt. I recycle. I can't wait to get back to regular workouts and yoga.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Aside from school/work, I’m officially out in social media. I act like Facebook is ridiculous, and it is, but I gotta say it's shown me a lot of love recently. Thank you for taking the time to reach out to me. Your words are heard. Friends <i>and</i> friends of friends shared the link to drahotalives.com and urged facebookers around the globe to donate. The power of social media is quite mind blowing. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Whilst enjoying my favorite app in the universe, Spotify, "Who's Thinking About You Now" began crooning in my eardrums. I froze. <i> Everyone.</i> The realization I had in that moment is: Everyone is thinking about me. Not <b><i>just</i></b> thinking but donating and organizing and being brilliant and caring and <i>FAR</i> too generous. I will simply continue to sink into a debt of gratitude towards half of the planet for everything that's happening. I don't deserve any of this but I'm reveling in the miracle of it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-3818294404641690262013-11-13T16:48:00.002-07:002014-11-03T15:59:23.386-07:00Extra Mayo, Please!<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Give me all the mayo in a five hundred mile radius!!! I don't even eat dairy! Is mayo actually dairy or just synthetic? Who cares! What am I rambling on about when I have the <b>BEST NEWS EVER</b>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_23018">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The Mayo Clinic can fix me!!!! Ask and you shall receive! <a href="http://havecancermustblog.blogspot.com/2013/11/corn-maze.html" target="_blank">(see previous post)</a> I didn't get a dashing, young doctor but what I <i>did</i> get is one trillion times better: <b>life</b>. At my appointment terms like "long life" and "decades" were being thrown around. I basked in their glory. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_22945">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dr. David Nagorney, the surgeon we met with and my new hero, can operate to remove the vast majority of my disease. </span><i><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy dance, h</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">appy dance, h</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">appy dance</span></i><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>! Shout from the rafters, sing songs of joy, dance in the streets!!!!</i> On the chopping block is the primary tumor,</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">located in the pancreas,</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> part of my liver, gallbladder and spleen. <i> Peace out!</i> Left behind will be the pancreatic head or about 40% of the organ. This is enough pancreas for me to live normally, I will not need insulin or enzymes. <i>More dancing!</i> The pancreatic body and atrophic tail will be resected. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> T</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">he left side of my liver or the worst looking part, will also meet its maker.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Then, any</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">left over liver</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> tumors </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">will be ablated</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <i>Burn baby, burn!</i></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> </i> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Since the cancer has micrometastasis in the blood, there is the strong chance of returning incidents. Following surgery, I will be monitored over the years for tumors that may crop up. These will be put on watch if they aren't causing any problems or ablated if they are.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_23010">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Surgery isn't scheduled yet. First, I must clear up a few pesky details like work</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> stuffs and</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> how to pay for any of this. Then, </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Rochester, Minnesota here I come... again. New favorite place, right Tiff? </span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_23012">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_23015">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Finally, a plan! Better yet, a plan that makes sense! I didn't know it but this is what I've been looking for over the past 8 months. Even better is a plan involving an abundance of living time afterwards! Saying I'm happy would be an immense understatement. But still true. It's now Wednesday and this news was delivered Monday, I'm still floating on cloud nine. Life is good again. Stress released. Smile returned and multiplied seventy jillion times. </span></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_23015">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dad, I couldn't have done this without your quiet company as you tirelessly criss-crossed the Midwest to haul me back and forth to Minnesota, often in snow and the dead of night. Sherp, #PIC. Mom, we got our plan. Deb and Kendall, watching Lola is no easy task but you have prevailed remarkably. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You, readers of this little blog o' mine, <b>we did it</b>. It was your prayers, love, light, cards, thoughts, messages, lunches, late nights that held me upright when I was crumbling Now, we just sit back and let the experts at Mayo take over. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My beautiful people here in Denver are planning a fundraiser in my honor. Wild, yeah? A younger me would have silently backed away with raised eyebrows thinking they are coo-coo for Coco Puffs if someone had said there'd be</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">fundraiser</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> held for me at 32 years of age.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Stay tuned for more details. It's going to be a big, fat party and you're all invited!!! </b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
<b><i>Let the good times roll!!!!!!!!!!!!! </i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1384259999538_23015">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-77621318474513879052013-11-09T09:17:00.001-07:002014-11-03T16:05:59.972-07:00Corn Maze <br />
I'm going to tell you what I want. I don't feel as though I'm asking too much. And I certainly don't see why I'm NOT getting what I want. <br />
<br />
Here goes.....<br />
<br />
An exceedingly experienced and handsome doctor strides purposefully into my assigned hospital room. He shakes my hand, knows I'm the patient, and is quite taken with my youth and vibrance. He's poured over my medical records for hours. He is desperately sorry this is happening to me and he has a plan. He lays out said plan and I'm whisked away to be fixed accordingly. <br />
<br />
Warning: prepare for full-on ranting.<br />
<br />
The week prior to my trip to Mayo was spent gathering the medical records they requested. Did they ask for a copy of one thing I could easily obtain? Nope. The list was long. Could any of it be found in the same place by contacting one person? Nope. Day after day I made phone call after phone call to place after place. The report and <i>slides</i> from my biopsy, all of my scans and the accompanying reports, notes from each chemo treatment, my full medical record and surgical report and notes from my physicians. Were the slides they'd given me the correct ones? Nope. The day I was getting on a plane for Mayo, I copied all of the records I collected. I'm obsessed with knowing all there is about what's happening to me. While doing this, I discovered the error. One meltdown and three hundred ninety-two phone calls later, my slides were found at the University of Colorado. So I PT Cruised over there to pick them up. Alright, I was all set! The stress was worth it because I was finally going to Mayo! Hooray!<br />
<br />
After flying into Minneapolis Tuesday night and driving to Rochester in a snow storm, we awoke early Wednesday morning so I could have blood work done and a CT scan. The rest of the day was spent in Rochester. Dad found a great lunch spot serving gluten free selections (and wine!). The best part was girl time with my sis! What would I do without you, Fry? You are my Sherpa, my rock, my twin, my BFF and partner in crime.<br />
<br />
Remember the aforementioned wants? I was ready. Thursday was the big day, time to kick ass and take names! What <i>actually</i> transpired was a brief, highly unfulfilling meeting with an oncologist and then I spent the weekend in Nebraska. All they told me I needed to meet with a surgeon after having an MRI. I'd nearly thrown up in the waiting room before my appointment. After checking in and finding a seat on one of the couches, I became abruptly, terribly nauseous. I wasn't sick. I was overwhelmed, fervent, anxious, exhausted, insane, petrified. My Sherp hassled the nurses for some H2O and I started chugging water. It was all for not, though, because nothing happened. There are three ways to treat cancer: surgery, chemotherapy, radiation. The liver is not typically radiated, leaving surgery and chemo as my options. <br />
<br />
Exiting my appointment with zero answers, Mom and Tiff headed to Minneapolis to catch flights back to Denver. Dad and I sat waited out the hours before my MRI time which was 6:30 pm and when I finished around 8:00 pm, we started the 6 hour drive back to Nebraska. The other options would have been staying in Rochester over the weekend or flying to Denver and then back to MN. It was a lose/lose situation. Rochester is not exactly a hopping place. Dad drove through the night and we finally sank into bed around 2:30 am. <br />
<br />
What confuses me, among every single thing in the health care system, is this: why didn't the surgeon just come to my appointment? If they knew I needed a surgical consolation, why wasn't he or she there to consult? Why wasn't an MRI ordered in the first place instead of a CT scan? Why did they take up my time to tell me they can't tell me anything? Clearly I'm not running the health care system because it would not be this disjointed. Everything about it is wrong. So now I sit in the Midwest, waiting for a Monday appointment with the surgeon to see if surgery is a possibility. Preceded by a 6 hour drive <i>back</i> to Minnesota, it should take about 1.5 milliseconds. The answer is either yes or no. <br />
<br />
UGH! It's getting harder and harder to contain my Godzilla side. Perhaps it's just time to let it go. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm sorry to my Nebraska people for not being in contact. My trip to Nebraska was literally last minute. I simply need some down time. I also do<i> not</i> want my pent-up rage to be unleashed unnecessarily on the wrong people. Please except my deepest apologies. I truly love you all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-88144843808489521232013-11-04T18:06:00.000-07:002014-10-11T17:49:30.916-06:00Mayo on the Side I finally get why they call it a fight. I'm in quicksand fighting my way out. Little known fact: you're not supposed to struggle should you find yourself in quicksand as it causes you to sink faster. But struggle I am. In my skewed perspective of how things work, I envisioned doctors and nurses gracefully, magically appearing at my bedside with reassuring smiles as they inject new and improved drugs into my IV. Meanwhile, a lovely cocktail of pain meds keeps a blissful grin on my face as I slip into peaceful slumber. The drugs devour the cancer cells and pain medication brings hazy, enchanted dreams. Birds land on the windowsill and sing cheery tunes while bunnies and squirrels change the bedding and fluff the pillows. <br />
<br />
Apparently, this is not the case. <br />
<br />
I called the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota last week to, as I can only find one way to explain it, beg them to save my life. I had no idea how much work it is to have cancer. <b><i>I</i></b> called Mayo for an appointment with a nueroendrocrine specialist. <b><i>I</i></b> am constantly researching. <b><i>I</i></b> am reading book after book about cures, symptom containment, herbal remedies, and more. <b><i>I</i></b> have to decide what to do. <i><b>I</b></i> have to adjust this straight jacket because it's a bit difficult to type.<b><i> I</i></b> emailed my Interventional Radiologist this week and <i>ASKED</i> to be chemoed. I'm officially looney bin material. If we are putting surgery on hold for awhile, I decided to do another chemo treatment to the liver. There are new tumors on the right side and they did not ask nicely to hang out in my abdomen. No "please" means you meet Dr. Johnson and his little bag of tricks.<br />
<br />
I feel great and I'd say it's mostly attributed to the fact I now weld the control. Power is exhilarating. All the movies I've seen with a power-hungry lead character who must destroy anything in his way are totally true. Move over Thor and Captain America! There's a new superhero in town. <br />
<br />
I must specify: move<i> into my place</i> Thor and Captain America. <br />
<br />
So, I'm off to majestic Minnesota. I hear it's lovely this time of year. The doctors at the Mayo Clinic better have their game faces on, otherwise you'll hear my Godzilla-portioned tirade from your respective location on the planet. Maybe someone should warn them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-71346924737226216182013-10-19T15:20:00.000-06:002014-10-11T17:47:28.600-06:00Sour Grapes<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Time out.</b> I'm calling time out and throwing a penalty flag. Too many men on the field. So far, I've been advised about my treatment plans by a male surgeon, a male interventional radiologist, and a male oncologist at Kasier. Now we've thrown into the mix another surgeon and oncologist from the University of Colorado Hospital. Both male. Where are the women in this mix?!?! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My team and I are regrouping after being handed a bit of a shock from the doctors at University of Colorado Hospital. A good shock, don't panic, but a shock none the less. I think it's time for me to reassert myself as the official in this game. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And what a <i>game</i> it is. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">After extensive anxiety and hesitation about the Whipple procedure, I was strongly convinced by my surgeon at Kaiser it is the best course. <i>We Could Go All The Way!!!</i> Win the championship and take home a shiny trophy. If it were up to him, I'd already be cut up and recovering as he wanted to schedule my surgery for mid-October. The single appealing aspect of this is my reunification with my beloved Morphine Pump (see <a href="http://havecancermustblog.blogspot.com/2013/09/through-grapevine.html" target="_blank">Through the Grapevine</a> for explanation.) Wait, I lied, there are two appealing aspects, I would also be minus one pancreatic tumor, a foggy daydream at this juncture. I abandoned my "<i>the Whipple removes so much of my insides, redirects my digestive system, requires a long recovery and renders me diabetic.... ALL of which can't be undone and I'm only 32</i>" path at the paradoxical fork in the road. I took up course on the "<i>I'm SO strong and this will be SO HARD but I can do it, I can do ANYTHING! No Katy Perry, you hear ME roar!</i>" trail. Full speed ahead.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Whistle blows. The referee waves his arms. The previous play is under review.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I want a second opinion. What we heard at the University of Colorado Hospital was what I've wanted to hear <i>ALL ALONG</i>. It was a strategy right from my own playbook. As I said, I am not a fan of the Whipple, so hearing what we did was good..... HOWEVER, I could barely see straight enough to listen to anything. <i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A team of doctors with different specialties reviewed my case. This pack included a surgeon, oncologists , ect. The surgeon lost me straightaway when, milliseconds after entering the room, he asked, "What is this?" and gestured to the iPad I set up to record our conversation. How dare you vilify one of my Apple products. And who doesn't know what an iPad is?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"An iPad," I replied in a tone dripping with its own disdain and a chalk full of scorn. I knew what was to follow....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Please turn it off. It alters the tone of our conversation." While stopping the recording, I turned to my sister and mouthed, "Pissed!" <i>Who are you to tell me I can't record a conversation about my body!</i> Since I was caught off guard, I couldn't think coherently enough to get my way or just leave the damn thing on. <i>I understand you don't want to be sued but what would you say differently while being recorded? </i> Makes me wonder. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The doctor's misfortune continued when he commenced his spiel. Although I was perched atop the thin layer of paper adorning the patient's table, he began to address my mom. He told her they have reviewed her scans and labs, a panel of doctors have come to a consensus about treatment options, but first, we'd like to hear about her symptoms, what first made her think something was wrong? My mother motioned to the<i> <b>actual</b></i> (crossed-armed, visibly furious) <b><i>patient,</i></b> yours truly, and explained coolly she doesn't have cancer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Allow me to digress: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sooooooooo, sir.......... when you and this alleged panel of alleged doctors were allegedly reviewing my scans and all other things medical.... it never came up that I'm 32 years old? From what I've heard, cancer treatment varies quite a bit depending on the patient's age and <i>several</i> other factors, so age would/should be discussed. How did you just walk into a room and not know who is the patient? I markedly look 32. In fact someone just the other day said I look 25! So there! (I had to throw that in my rant.) Did you get high at lunch? YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT MY LIFE! L-I-F-E. Here's a little idea. I came up with it right off the top of my head: get the patient's name before you walk in their room, introduce yourself to the humans in the room, make a match between human and name. Mind-blowing, I know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As I sat atop my paper covered perch, shaking from distress and desperately trying to make my notes legible, we learn of a <i>magical</i> chemo pill used specifically in cases like mine to shrink the tumors. <i><b>WHAT?!?!?! </b></i> I was diagnosed in May, it's now October and this is the first I'm hearing of this? Excuse me for being more than a little exasperated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">If we were to do the Whipple operation to resect the pancreatic tumor, all treatment of the tumors in the liver would halt during recovery. Most of the tumors </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">in the liver </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">treated during the chemo embolizations have responded (yay!) but there are still some residual tumors. It could be very dangerous if these tumors were to grow or spread. This chemo pill will target the spread and growth. So very technical of me to call it a chemo pill, yes? Guess I don't have that medical degree just yet... but I'm close.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Something told me I needed to talk to someone else. I listened and earned my spot in the Hall of Fame for it! Even though I was not incredibly happy with who I talked to, I heard the opposite of what the Kaiser surgeon was telling me. I <i>knew</i> there was something wrong with the Whipple surgery. I'm not in the end zone just yet. Not even near the 50-yard line. There is still a surgery in the mix. Truthfully, the Whipple is still a possibility. The hope is after the magic beans do their tricks, my pancreatic tumor will be cut out along with my spleen. Sorry Spleeny, I don't know who you pissed off but I guess your karma is on the same playing field as mine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Another point of contention came up when we were told part of my pancreas could be saved. The people at UC Hospital say the <b>head</b> of the pancreas could be saved. The <b>body</b>, where the tumor is located, would be removed along with the tail which is basically atrophied at this point. The surgeon at Kaiser says the <b>tail</b> <i>might</i> be saved, if <i>any</i> of my pancreas can be salvaged. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>These statements do not match.</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My head is spinning. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Upon completing some research on the chemo drugs in question, I have VERY strong doubts. Until I hear from a <i style="font-weight: bold;">credible, neuorendrocrine specialist</i>, I have several reasons to abstain. I know my cancer is very rare but there has to be a neuroendocrine specialist <i>somewhere</i>..... I'm just like Fievel, wearing tattered clothing and singing to the moon, "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dan6g5a3Dgg" target="_blank">Somewhere out there....</a>" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">First, according to the drug's very own website, <a href="http://www.sutent.com/sutent-and-pnet.aspx" target="_blank">only 9% of people</a> experienced any shrinkage (why does this word make me giggle?). Clearly I'm not a mathematician. I couldn't even spell mathematician. If I were to make wild guess, 9% isn't very high.....? </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This chemo pill sounds fine and dandy when the doctors are pitching it, but, upon reflection, that's exactly what it felt like: a sales pitch. Who is in the background telling the doctors to tell me? What's in it for them? Excuse me for sounding like a conspiracy theorist. Did I mention this medication just so happens to be around $3,000 a month? Plus, there are extreme risks associated with it. So, it begs the question: who benefits from this pill? It certainly doesn't seem like it would be </span><b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>ME</i></b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So here goes..... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sutent ("the chemo pill") metabolizes in the liver. The first of many intense side-effects being damage to the liver. <a href="http://www.sutent.com/more-you-can-do.aspx" target="_blank">There is a huge risk to the liver and it says so <i>several</i> times on the drug's website</a>.* According to my latest blood tests taken on October 2nd, my liver is showing signs of damage. This is the first time my blood tests have come back abnormal, meaning my liver is being impacted by the chemo embolizations. Results from the Oct 2nd blood tests show my alkaline phosphatase levels to be 182. The normal range is 28-111. My ATL (76) and AST (67) levels were also high. These tests determine liver damage and high numbers indicate damage. If you peruse through the drug's website, it warns of the liver damage (and death) several times.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm of the opinion </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">more damage should <i>NOT</i> be done to my liver. <i>Shrug, </i></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>shrug, eyebrows raised.</i> I can apparently live and function without a pancreas, but replacing my liver would be much more harrowing. According to UCH, a live-doner transplant is off the table and i</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">t's not promising</span><span id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382200605442_3517" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to be on the transplant wait list. As much as possible, focus should be on keeping my current liver as healthy as possible. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382200605442_3496"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The side effect inventory continues. It includes issues with heart function. I've been down this road before, my heart has already undergone a </span>procedure<span style="font-size: small;"> to "fix" it. I found this on the Mayo clinic's web-site, (see the 6th and 7th paragraph-- and all the paragraphs): </span><a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/drug-information/DR602399/DSECTION=precautions%2D" target="_blank">heart side effects</a><span style="font-size: small;">. As with my liver, I'm going to advocate for my heart. She has been through quite enough and doesn't need a chemo pill, with a measly 9% chance of shrinking my pancreatic tumor, messing her up again. Plus, I kind of need a heart for, you know, living. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I also noticed on the side-effect list </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"can cause liver problems" is immediately followed by</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> "including death."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Liver risks=scary</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Heart risks=scarier</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Death risks=scariest</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Cancer, you have me an impasse. I don't know what to do. I'm sure I'll figure it out but right now, I'm stumped. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Cancer 1, Lindsey 0</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">*Reminder: while you read on the websites linked above or any website, keep in mind my cancer is pancreatic NET (neuroendocrine tumor.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">This post is dedicated to my mom, Jennifer Drahota. Mom, you could easily pass for someone much younger! Please don't misconstrue my anger at this man who walked into <i>my</i> appointment and started talking to you as though you are the 32-year-old patient as anything but a human who made a mistake with the wrong Cancer who can't let it go. You have been really wonderful during all of this. I can't imagine doing any of it without you taking care of me, your little girl, as you always have. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-29892717432835038162013-10-06T04:09:00.000-06:002014-10-11T17:50:33.968-06:00Busy BeeMy to-do list: <br />
<br />
1. <b>Buy a walker now that I'm 90 years old</b>. <br />
<br />
By no means do I intend to offend any person advanced in age. In contrast, I'm quite jealous and applaud your strength. Congratulations on achieving old age. Our commonalities are not things most people my age find routine. Like, for example, walking slowly or riding the elevator. Eating like a bird and doing so around 4:00. Going to bed around 8 o'clock. Or even 7.... alright, alright, <i>OR</i> even earlier sometimes. The time we arise is probably comparable as well if you're getting up before the sun... and your alarm. Oh, you don't have to set an alarm since you're retired? Retirement. Here is something we do not share, much to my dismay. How lovely to attend appointments by the thousands, face treatment after treatment, sleep when exhausted, and rest when in pain without the constant anguish of using sick days. How does one get money without having to work? <br />
<br />
2. <b>Figure out how to get money without having to work.</b> <br />
<br />
3. <b> Buy tennis balls for my walker.</b> <br />
<br />
4. <b>Invent a new word for thank you.</b> <br />
<br />
At the risk of sounding redundant, I have a lot of people to thank. However, I lack adequate means to accomplish this task. <i>"Thank you."</i> Ack- boring. It's Marty McFly's fading image in the photograph he carries in Back to the Future. I'm over it. I need a shiny, new method of showing my gratitude! <br />
<br />
A Turkish proverb states: <i>thorns and roses grow on the same bush.</i> This is the most accurate reflection of my current situation. One of my bright, cheery roses is a slimmer body in a size I haven't been since before middle school! I'm definitely not bragging. I'd much rather be my usual shape and healthy... but it's freaking fantastic to buy jeans in the same size as your girlfriend who you look at thinking, "Dang she's skinny." Another colorful rose is remaining healthy looking and keeping my hair. I'm incredibly grateful for this. I sound shallow and frivolous but having no control over the happenings in your body where cancerous cells are rapidly dividing and obliterating your internal organs will do this to you. I'm very often in pain or feeling discomfort so at least I can look well on the outside. Finally, the colossal, exceptionally fragrant rose is the uncommon opportunity to find out how many people in this world love you. Truly, I don't think people stop to realize how much love surrounds them at all times. Presently, I know. And I'm thankful. __<u>(insert new word here)</u>__ for the cards, love, hugs, prayers, thoughts, care packages, love, chats, presents, prayer quilts, love, blog-reading, flowers, smiles, and love.<br />
<br />
5. <b>Create zillions of cards with my new word for thank you. </b><br />
<br />
Become a zillionaire. Cross off #2. <br />
<br />
6. <b>Blunder into a cartoon-like situation where the zany, scientific character creates a way to enhance brain power thereby giving me the capacity to make life-altering decisions with ease. </b><br />
<br />
I'm Gollum-like obsessed with the few remaining brain cells I posses. <i>My precious</i> lone troopers and I are faced with some pretty harrowing decisions. It's taken some time, major convincing <i>AND</i> a trip to meet with the "experts in their fields" at the University of Colorado hospital (one of the best hospitals in the nation has apparently just been sitting right under my nose this whole time.) but I'm going to go ahead with surgery. I had hoped to be referred to Mayo or John's Hopkins. No, I'll simply drive to Aurora, a Denver suburb not exactly known for its aesthetics and tolerance, a trip typically only reserved for passage to the airport. During my consolation, the leading expert in all things pancreas Dr. _______ (I forgot his name), several other doctors and my surgeon, Dr. Weinfeld, will form a panel and review my case. Since I have a wildly rare cancer, it's good to hear what everyone has to say on the matter. The process will last the entire day so I shall don a tiara and sash reading, "Queen for the Day" and assume everyone is at my whim. <br />
<br />
The surgery in discussion will considerably alter my life. <i>Surprise! </i> Maybe at this point I should just be used to having life-altering news flashed in my face. My surgeon doesn't think there will be enough of my pancreas to salvage. If there is, it won't be much and not enough for it to operate at normal capacity. I was reverently assured you can live without a pancreas, a large hurdle for me to leap as I was convinced of the opposite. Following this extraction, I'll be rendered diabetic. A diabetic is a person with a pancreas that doesn't function or functions poorly. I'll be a person without a pancreas that doesn't function. After my pancreas checks out, I'll take over its job of providing the digestive process with insulin and enzymes. I'm already taking enzymes every time I eat so this won't be new. I had hoped to discontinue this practice post-cancer but I guess I'll just find new love for my little enzyme friends. The insulin thing will be all new to me. <br />
<br />
7. <b>Tackle insulin obstacle when I get there. </b><br />
<br />
The surgery is tentatively being placed sometime at the beginning of November. Dr. Weinfeld, who just recently started sporting a goatee, and I will be in the operating room for 8+ hours. I assume he'll head home after this to watch football and eat wings on the couch while I hang at the hospital for awhile. More to come on this as I don't know the all the details of what happens after surgery, for Weinfeld or myself. Maybe instead of wings he'll have popcorn and watch the Voice. Perhaps it will be a sandwich and a John Hughes movie. I just won't know until I can investigate further. <br />
<br />
8. <b>Check into Weinfeld's post-survey routine.</b><br />
<br />
First up is the panel at University hospital, then figuring out time off of work, then surgery. Baby steps. Just like Bob.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This post is dedicated to Joseph Davis. He lost his mother to cancer yesterday. I write a lot of words about myself and yet I have none to give him. In the absence of the right words, I offer these. Jos, I love you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since you gave me the news earlier today. And I will not stop thinking of you. Betsy put it best when she said you have an ability to handle things in a higher way than we do. You do. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-43866470697215349932013-09-24T17:21:00.001-06:002014-10-11T17:30:34.043-06:00Through the Grapevine<div>
Round two of chemo is in the bag. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
This time, at least, I didn't terrify my nurse at 3:00am by breaking down in tears.... Instead, when I awoke through the night, I was able to snuggle up to my new best friend, give him a little squeeze, and drift peacefully back to sleep. This ally I speak of, this supporter, giver of light, and companion is a stop-light green button which dispenses morphine. Oh Morphine Pump, my comrade... how I miss thee.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Morphine Pump and I were introduced shortly after I was delivered back to my room. My liver's second chemo embolization was complete. From what I can remember through the pain and drugs, the situation was as follows. I emerged from the anesthesia. Shards of searing pain ripped through my abdomen like a high-speed train tearing its way across the terrain, fiery sparks flying from the wheels as they barely retained their grip on the tracks. I vomited. Clear liquid filled the forest-green bag they held to my face. A strange, tingling in my legs could only be construed in my not-so-cognizant state as, "<i>SOMETHING IS SO SERIOUSLY WRONG I'M BECOMING PARALYZED</i>." Pain. I may or may not have been little hysterical. More pain. Epic thirst levels. A bright light appeared and I started to walk towards it. More pain. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Before I reached the warm, white glow, it was decided a morphine drip would be put in place. So, I remained, for the time being, a member of Earth. The chemo (probably) wouldn't have killed me but since it was trying it's damnedest to do just that, Morphine Pump intervened. Insert super hero anthem here. Round two has proven infinitely worse than his predecessor. MP kept me from doing my best Bond villain and popping the syaniade capsule hidden in my hair. After round one I napped a little, ate dinner courtesy of my sis, read until midnight, tried unsuccessfully to sleep, and went home grumpy in the morning. Not so much this time. <br />
<br />
I slept straight through the post-procedure hours I must spend lying still so my vein clots. Anytime I awoke, Morphine Pump was there with a smile to gently chuck me under the chin and guide me back to dreamland. This was a perk as these hours draaaaaaaaagggggged by the first time. Another perk of this drugged-induced slumber is not using the bed pan.... ugh, enough said. Any time I needed to get up, which wasn't often, it was quite a production. The odd little pumps on my legs to correct the tingling had to be detached, my oxygen nose piece removed, the IV pole rolled with me, etc. I could not eat. At a certain point, my father lovingly told me I was <i>going</i> to eat. A banana seemed like an innocent choice. One bite and I vomited. Another forest green bag was filled with clear liquid. What didn't make it into the bag was promptly whisked away once the nurse was buzzed and my bedding/gown changed... again. Although it didn't seem like I would, I made it through the night.<br />
<br />
I have yet to figure out how or why people use pain medications recreationally. I experience unrelenting side effects when I take prescription pain meds. My post-chemo pain levels were apocalyptic and even facing this ominous suffering, I hesitated to use the Oxycodone prescribed to me. This is the alternative to the Dilaudid I was given the first time around, which I staunchly refuse to ever take again. This alternative has proven to be an epic failure on my rating scale of pain meds. I only want medications that do not metabolize in the liver. Of the three I've experienced so far my rating scale is as such:<br />
<br />
BEST PAIN MEDICATION EVER = Morphine. Ahhh, I have warm-fuzzies just thinking about it.<br />
WORST PAIN MEDICATION EVER = anything else. <br />
<br />
I know I'm biased since Morphine Pump and I became so close but I still think this scale is fairly scientific. So, upon my release from the hospital and an agonizing good-bye with MP, I was forced to use the Oxycodone to attempt to alleviate some of my pain. At one point I wondered if I had an 'Aliens' situation on my hands. Was an extraterrestrial being mutilating my insides as it prepared to claw it's way out of my midriff (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRX2ntm2rXQ" target="_blank">click here if you don't know what I'm referencing</a>)? Did they do the chemo wrong and all of my internal organs were dissolving? Had I been sawed in half during a magic show gone wrong? My only hope of some respite from this torment was to pop a pill. Following this action I would have to find a quite, dark space where I could wait out the incapacitating migraine. Sleep was my reprieve so I took long naps. And this is how I passed my days. Pain, pill, wait out the side effects. Lather, rinse, repeat. This medication is a narcotic, the same category shared with meth. Forget any desire to eat. Forget the end result of eating as narcotics notoriously cause constipation. Interestingly, I felt itchy while taking this medication which explains why meth users are always scratching and are riddled with open sores- I was coming close to the same look. Eventually the pain lessened enough I could just tough it out. Or perhaps I just decided the pain medication was no longer for me. <br />
<br />
Disclaimer: to those who were actually around during these events, if I've misreported them in any way I apologize. I'm merely giving the account as I recall and let's face it, I heavily drugged. I'm not trying to enter into an Oprah vs. James Fray situation so we'll just pretend this is <i>exactly</i> what happened. </div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Following chemo I'm ten years old. During recovery, I regressed to being driven around, cooked for and generally brought anything I needed to remain alive. I barely had to lift a finger (by doctors orders- I'm not allowed to lift more than 10 pounds for two weeks while the clot in my vein heals.) And now I no longer know how to be a grown-up. Where will my next lunch come from? How do I get water in this cup? What pj's should I wear to bed? The Disney Princesses ones? I agree. <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-65470947511659352842013-09-06T21:17:00.000-06:002014-10-11T17:14:13.586-06:00Fruity<br />
It's been a month since my first chemo. The ups and downs of the past 5 weeks share altitudes with the Himalayas and depths of the Mariana Trench. Single-handedly, I faced down soul-pulverizing sadness and despair. Hand over hand I crawled out of
that dark hole, regained my optimism, and reworked my entire
thought process. It's a bit of an endeavor to be in constant battle with your body and an uncooperative mind. The thing about cancer is, if you have cancer, you don't ever think about anything else. Thoughts might share some head space momentarily but really all you're capable of seeing, hearing, breathing, tasting, feeling is cancer. Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer.<br />
<br />
For a maddening two weeks, I was utterly lost in sorrow. I couldn't do much besides cry and think about dying. Weakened from chemo I was unable to lead my normal, active life. A sentence from the internet burned like the Eternal Flame behind my eyelids every bitter moment of the day. Yes, I broke my own avoid-Google rule. I refuse to give any credence to said sentence so I will not repeat it here. On the other side of this harrowing episode, I picture a Sunday morning newspaper cartoon. The image is just a black circle with a stick figure climbing from the hole looking frazzled but smiling. I've emerged! I guess that was what you would call a rough patch. The one and only I will endure. It was horrendous and I'm <b><i>not</i></b> doing it again. <br />
<br />
My rise from the cavern has brought about a restored attitude. I feel so great. I continually focus on thoughts of being healed and what I will do now that the cancer is gone. The only statements allowed in my realm must all reflect positive sentiments as though we're on the other side everything is swell. Now I'm picturing 1950's suburbia: vivid green grass, brilliant blue sky, children laughing and playing as a stroll along in my pink, poodle skirt and perfectly coiffed hair. <br />
<br />
This weekend I was able to walk around the park. Wait for it.... not once, but twice! A nominal feat just half a year ago. Now, at 32 years of age, a huge accomplishment. Let me tell you, it felt amazing. A-MAZE-ING! Equally amazing: Acupuncture. New obsession. Also, I started my new job (same school) and I'm madly in love with it. <br />
<br />
Countdown to round two of chemo has begun. T-minus two weeks. Ready or not...... <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-41650097527054937932013-08-18T15:24:00.000-06:002014-10-11T15:09:22.784-06:00A Cherry On Top<div>
Prologue: This blog has taken on a form of therapy for me. This post, in particular, is very therapy-y. So, get your wool sweater on, reading glasses down to the tip of your nose, and legal pad out. I'm laying on the couch in your office, blabbering ....<br />
<br />
Since I was can remember, which in my brain is about the age of 20, I've suffered from depression. Not the kind of depression where you feel sad because something sad just happened. The kind of depression where you feel forlorn/tired/overwhelmed/despondent but <i>nothing has happened</i>. <b>This is weird thing.</b> It's impossible for "normal" people to understand and just as impossible to avoid the stigma that goes along with it. In today's Western age of over-diagnosed/over-prescribed anti-depressants, I suppose the stigma has lessened but when I first began my journey with this, I felt helpless and alone. Depression isn't cancer for example. People don't empathize with you when you're depressed. They say things like: cheer up, it will get better, and my favorite: hang in there. Since you can't <i>see</i> depression it's easy to keep it hidden. Which is what I did. And if I could just pat myself on the back for moment, I believe it did pretty well. <br />
<br />
Depression is a strange and unpredictable beast. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Around hour 14 of laying in bed (a common place for me when the big D reared it's ugly head), I would begin wondering: what about people out there who have it <i>WAY WORSE</i> than me? A majority of my twenties were spent grappling with embarrassment and shame. I was ashamed to feel sad when larger problems are actually <i>sad</i>. I often found myself thinking about the world and the enormity of it. The magnitude of human suffering is so vast and atrocious... and here I was, a girl who had everything I needed: access to more food than I could ever eat (thank you America), shelter- which wasn't being bombed, my village wasn't overrun with disease, a plethora of family and friends who love me... <i>why the hell am I sad?!</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
So, what happened to change all this: aging. Sound the trumpets and sing joyous tunes. The sliver-lining to aging is knowing yourself. As I entered my thirties just a short 24 months ago, I began to really understand and know myself. I was no longer lost in the excitement and constant rush of my twenties. The depression began to abate. Life became more tangible and coherent. The coping mechanisms I used were needed less and less. It is in this vein, my depression and I reached an understanding. I recognized he was going to stick around but he realized that I'm on to him. <i>Insert evil laugh.</i> I'm no longer blind-sided by bad days/weeks/months. I'm in control. While these days still exist, they are now comprehensible and manageable instead of agonizing. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
You may be thinking, <i>why is she taking about depression? I</i><i>sn't this blog about cancer</i><i>?</i> The answer is simple. Since cancer has been bestowed upon me, things have changed. Perspective is a word thrown around a lot but it actually has meaning to one such as myself. You would think depression is the first thing that someone feels when learning they have cancer, but not in this case.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When a doctor says the word cancer after you've been though a gamut of testing, nothing is the same again. N.O.T.H.I.N.G. Your face is unexpectedly jerked to the right because you've been slapped with a word no one is ever ready to hear. You're immediately reeled the opposite direction as unknowns of universal sizes spread out before you. And simultaneously, an impenetrable wall with the word MORTALITY graffitied across it manifests a mere two centimeters from the tip of your nose. Your mortality stares you in the face and you can't out-stare it, or run, you just have to look directly back at it. It's about this time you start to think, <i>how the hell am I supposed to deal with this? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Clearly, I don't know the answer to that. Nor would I ever claim to. I've tried some things that work and some that don't. For example, retail therapy. Yes, this is a fun way pass the time and it sure takes your mind off the fact you have cancer when you have to decide between the mint green or orange tank with these skinny jeans.... but then Capital One comes a calling and you realize that hiring a human therapist would have been cheaper. Traveling was a great time! I know how lucky I was to have a trip <i>already</i> booked two weeks out from receiving word that all my pain and suffering is cancer (not just a something silly as I assumed it would be). This was great way to escape... for a bit. Side note: a huge thank you to Dr. Eadens for giving me the okay to partake in my trip. Not that I would have skipped it, but I know it made my mom feel better to have the doc's approval. (After she was initially mad at him for saying yes-- you should have seen her face, priceless.) <br />
<br />
I'm taking time to realize who I am and what I want and enjoying it. I live in a city nestled up against the mountains. When not doing one of the million things Denver has to offer, you head up to the Rockies to for the endless activities offered up by Mother Nature. I love hanging out with my friends in ANY capacity. Whether its climbing mountains, sitting around a pool, drinking wine on a rooftop, or picnicking in the park. I find this amazing clarity around my people and it's electric. I'm no longer adrift at social events, I <i>feel</i> how much people love me and how much I love them! It's beautiful. It's powerful. I wish for you to experience this but since I had to get cancer to obtain this perspective, I won't do so. The school I work at, am a part of, is overflowing with incomparable, remarkable people who are beyond the words I could put here. My landing at Brown was so crazy and random and it was <b>absolutely</b> meant to be. </div>
</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The silver lining to cancer is falling in love with yourself. I love me. </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-1501003095295090432013-08-08T22:08:00.000-06:002014-10-11T15:06:07.493-06:00Just Peachy: Part 2 <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>235</o:Words>
<o:Characters>1340</o:Characters>
<o:Company>Denver Public Schools</o:Company>
<o:Lines>11</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>3</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>1572</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>14.0</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>697</o:Words>
<o:Characters>3973</o:Characters>
<o:Company>Denver Public Schools</o:Company>
<o:Lines>33</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>9</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>4661</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>14.0</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Apparently a vacation four days after chemo is ill
advised. However, it is great way to spend some time at the Kaiser ER in
San Diego. If that place isn’t in the travel guides, it really should
be. </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I'm
awakened at 6:00 am to the harshest pain I’ve ever experienced in my
life t</span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia;">he day we’re headed to the beach and a baseball game</span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia;">. Okay, worst pain </span><i style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia;">ever</i><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia;"> might be a slight exaggeration but
I’ve been with Tiff for the past week so all I know is embellishment – she’s
rubbed off on me. I couldn’t lie down, I couldn’t sit up, I couldn’t do
anything. I was overcome by sharp, driving
pains in my abdomen. I literally cried out every time one shot through my
midsection. It was awful. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I called my oncologist’s office. I explained to a nurse what is going on and after finding my oncologist she
says, “You should go to the emergency room.” I'm astonished.
She retorts, “You sound surprised.” <i>Uhh,
yeah I’m surprised! </i><i> I’m on
vacation, I don't want to spend any of it in a hospital, and I don’t want to pay for a trip to the ER.</i> I decide to see if the pain worsens and if it does, go to
the ER. I also call Rene, nurse extraordinaire from my Interventional
Radiologist’s office and leave a voicemail.</span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">My pain meds have some adverse side effects so I avoid
them. In my fifth hour of "toughing it out," Tiff and I are
bikini-clad and headed to the beach. I cave and take a pain pill to make
it through the rest of our fun-filled day. We’re mere moments from the
beach, sand in sight, and I feel too awful to continue. Tiff flips a
U-turn and we're headed to the ER. </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">When in the ER with cancer, you get one of those blue,
surgical masks to wear. So as I sit in
the ER, still wearing my swimming suit (plus cute cover-up... I wasn't 95% nude
in the waiting room), looking like someone from the SARS epidemic that
never happened, Rene calls back. She informs me these pains are to
be expected and I will have them for up to a year. <i>Ah, yes, sounds
great. So, should we leave? No, stay and be sure everything is
okay. Alright.</i> </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">My name is finally called, I'm taken back into the abyss,
blood is drawn, and I'm placed in a bed. I'm given an IV and some more of
my pain medication intravenously. It makes me feel icky and I don't
like it but the pain ebbs. I receive my 90th CT scan of the past 4 months. Minutes or hours pass, I'm too drugged to understand time. Around
8pm I'm of the philosophy I'll stay in this hospital room
forever, continue to receive pain meds and live a happy life in the San Diego
Kaiser. The doctor returns to report the
pain I’m experiencing is from the tumors emobilizing or breaking down. The chemo is working. (The next person who
says, "That's great!" is getting punched in the face. Not really but you get my point. I'll agree that it is in fact good news, but
the pain these dissolving tumors are causing me is otherworldly.) <i> </i>We are to pick up a prescription for Percocet </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia;">at the pharmacy before we leave and I'm going to get some intravenous morphine before they discharge me. I
think these are greatest the things I've heard in my life, shake his hand,
and smile as he leaves me forever. I wonder as the nurse enters shortly there after and takes out my IV but about but I just let it happen. He returns
with some paperswork apologizes, "The doctor ordered some morphine but I
didn't see it. Sorry, I took out your IV too soon." No morphine for
me. Sad face. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">As Tiff wheels me down the hall towards the pharmacy, I'm feeling terribly ill. The pain meds are making me nauseas and
incredibly dizzy. When we finally arrive at the car, it's dark outside. I ask Tiff where the time went. Upon arriving at the hotel, I
notice the Percocet bottle reads: contains acetaminophen. I'm not
allowed acetaminophen because it metabolizes in the liver
and clearly my liver is already in distress. M</span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia;">y trip to the
ER yielded these results: pain meds that made me
sicker.... a pain script I can't take.... another bill…. an entire day of
my vacation wasted. Double sad face. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Lesson learned from my mistakes: don't travel
immediately after chemo. Who knew? Guess this blonde didn't get the
memo. All was not lost in the end. We still went to the beach and a
Padres game, just 24 hours late. Then we drove to Vegas to say with our third sister, Jenn. Day after ER=success! </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12pt;">Cancer/Chemo,
you can't keep this girl down. So stop trying. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">This post is dedicated to my sister, Tiffany. Best Sherpa Ever. Thank you will never be enough for hauling around my luggage, taking care of me, and generally ignoring how crazy I am. Also, for putting up with cancer-hieghtened OCD for an AMAZING trip. I love you more than you'll ever know. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-69551425523922931202013-07-29T10:06:00.000-06:002014-10-11T14:48:52.694-06:00Just PeachyRound one of chemo is in the bag! Whooo hoo! I'm not really this excited, it just seemed like I should cheer. Have I lost my mind? A bit. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chemoembolization" target="_blank">chemo embolization</a> treatment was applied to the right side of my liver, targeting about 6 tumors. They will treat the left side when I go back for round two in six weeks, . <br />
<br />
It's been about a week and I feel like I was hit by a MACK Truck. I've gone on and on about how my "<i>special"</i> chemo will have "<i>minimal"</i> side effects... talk about speaking too soon. I'm getting my ass kicked here. BUT, this isn't a pity party so put your tiny violins away. Let's just put it this way: I've never been so tired in my life and yes, there are side effects. My treasured friend, Melissa, put it best, "It's a good thing you feel like you're getting your a** kicked. That means the chemo is working it's magic." If that is the case, then indeed it is. <br />
<br />
With that being said, I'm off to the Grand Canyon. How have I gone this long in life without seeing it? Time to remedy that! What started out as a road trip with my sister, Tiff, is now flanked with two flights. Mom would not have her freshly-chemoed daughter cruising through hundreds of miles of desert, sleeping in the car when needed. Hahaha. I'm okay with this. My only hope is I can hang long enough to enjoy some hiking. After the GC we're off to the coast for some beach time. This trip is short and sweet, one last hurrah before summer ends and it's back to school! And round two of chemo and then surgery.... eek! <br />
<br />
Hug someone you love. Give a person in need a hand. Be happy. Smile.... I am.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496599438393537720.post-22536136974962086002013-07-20T14:41:00.000-06:002013-09-24T17:26:12.765-06:00Passion Fruit To date or not to date.... that is the question. <br />
<br />
Poor Will Shakespeare. He writes an amazing line and yahoos like myself continually adapt it to meet our needs. He's rolled over so many times in his grave he's probably burrowed a hole to China by now.<br />
<br />
After my most recent debacle (short version: an icky person made a swift exit from my life following the news.... in hindsight, I dodged a bullet), I decided that dating while having cancer isn't a good idea. It just doesn't seem fair to the other person. <br />
<br />
Imagine this scenario <i>(close your eyes... but keep reading)</i>:<br />
<br />
I meet a fella. We begin dating. Everything is running smoothly. This fella and I are spending a lot of quality time together. He's tall, incredibly good-looking, and has a great job but isn't married to his work. He texts me all day long and calls "just to say hi." We hike when we're not at yoga or throwing a frisbee in the park. He always pays for dinner when he isn't home-cooking meals with fresh, organic ingredients. <i>Enough yet? </i> He loves to give massages, shoe shop, and thinks I'm the most gorgeous creature to ever walk this planet. <i>Enough now.</i><br />
<br />
One day a conversation transpires:<br />
<br />
The Fella: Lins, I really like you, we get along great and things are so fun! <br />
Lindsey: I know! Me too! <br />
The Fella: Should we make things official?<br />
Lindsey: That would be wonderful!<br />
The Fella: Great.<br />
Lindsey: Great. Ummm... just one tinsey thing.... I have the Big C....<br />
The Fella: ...... <i>(sound of air blowing in my face as he runs the opposite direction)</i><br />
<br />
With all that said, I have a date on Saturday. Haha! I just can't help myself. This chick has a lot of love to give that special someone. He just has to show up. <br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09853284452044638489noreply@blogger.com0