A great line!

Hemp!

Friday, January 27, 2012

My Dog Lifts His Leg When He Pees...

This is just a ramble of complaints, issues, brags and life-stuff.

Brag:  While I was out walking the dogs this morning, Ozzie lifted his leg to pee on a bush for the first time.  I think that I was as proud of him at that moment as I was when he received his Puppy Graduation Certificate.  Ozzie will be 10 months old on Feb 8th.

Issue:  While I was out walking the dogs this morning, I pooped my pants.  Not a lot, just a little...but really, the reality is that even a little is a lot when you include the words "poop" and "pants".  Actually, any time you poop off of the toilet, I would consider that to be a lot.  This icky-poop issue isn't getting better.  My Chemo NP put me on the BRAT diet and, though I hated it, after a day I seemed to be getting better.  So on her advice, I cut back the prescription that I was taking for said icky-poop issue.  Clearly, not a good move.  

Complaint:  Who decided that walking 60 or 39 miles was a good thing for breast cancer?  I've been watching these commercials for Komen with the 60 miles and Avon with the 39 miles and just think that seems ridiculous.  I can't even walk a mile without pooping my pants.  What on earth is happening to these people walking 60 miles?  Blisters.  I don't want the guilt of blisters on my conscious.  What is wrong with a 5k?  Promote the hell out of that and include a fantastic goody bag at the end.  You'll still get your money and people will have less need for orthotic inserts post-fundraiser.

Life-Stuff:  I've lost my girlie-identity.  Before getting the diagnosis, I was a girlie-girl.  I'd like to think that I still had some sex appeal.  Once I got the diagnosis, I ate and drank myself into another size. I'm now living in sweats & headcaps (I have quite an impressive stack of both). I sit around crocheting and I don't put on make-up if I don't have to.  I've got a scar/dent on the side of my right boob (I used to love my boobs...now, not so much) and I'm bald.  I can't even kiss my boyfriend because of my low white blood cell count.  I'm feeling rather androgynous these days.  I need to get my mojo back.  Maybe I should take the sock monkey hat off to start this process.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Pooper, not a Puker

I have moved my FaceBook notes over to this blog.  Mostly because I wanted the two things to be separate.  FaceBook is a daily thing for me and I somehow have accumulated a friend list that includes folks that maybe don't want to read about the hazards of chemo.  By creating this blog, those that WANT to read the guts and glory words that come from my head may choose to subscribe.

Basically, consider yourself warned.

My third round of chemo has by far been the worse.  I knew that this was going to be, but didn't really understand how it would manifest itself.

Basically, I pooped myself into dehydration.  Shat myself dry.  Yup.

See?  This doesn't belong on a FaceBook timeline.

For whatever medical/physical reason, I don't puke with chemo.  It could be because I'm a gastric bypass patient.  I don't know if that's the reason why, because there are too few of us out there to pay for a study.  Komen does the three day walk to raise money for breast cancer, Avon has a two day walk find a cure, Ford even gets in on the Warrior thing...but nobody cares about the former obese girl that ends up with cancer.  I swear, I'm constantly telling the staff at the clinic that I'm "gastric bypass".  It's almost like turrets for me.

"Kimberly, are you diabetic?"
"No, I'm gastric bypass."

"Kimberly, I'm going to give you a prescription for the pain."
"I'm gastric bypass."

Unless you're a gastric bypass patient, you won't understand any of this.  I swear, you sign up to lose weight and then are tied to a future full of stipulations/modifications/questions.

Okay, so on to pooping and not puking.  I had horrible diarrhea following this treatment.  (we will now refer to diarrhea as the icky-poops...I hate the word diarrhea)  No sooner than I would eat or drink, it would come flying out of my backside.  I had a fever (which I had to call the emergency line about during the big game on Sunday) and spent the night Sunday sitting on the toilet with a thermometer in my mouth and two dogs at my feet.  They really are the best friends during this sort of ordeal.  They find it to be something that they can relate to.

I went in to the clinic to have blood drawn, following the on-call oncologist's directions first thing Monday morning.  I dragged my sore ass in to the clinic...in the rain.  As they took the blood, I started to get hot (fever) and then all sounds were muted.  I looked around and blinked really hard.  Why it is that I thought that blinking would help my hearing, I don't know.  I took a deep breath, took my coat off...which got tangled in my purse strap...which got me sweatier.  After this passed, I thought, "this is probably a good place to share this sort of information".  I made note to tell the nurse if it should happen again.

After I was seen and issued an order for a few tests, a bag of IV fluids and some Zofran, the desk manager came over to me and said, "I need you to give me a urine sample.  The cup is in there."  She pointed to the bathroom.  What a relief that she didn't expect me to give it here in the infusion area.  Then she comes over to me, hands me an envelope, and says, "Have you ever done a fecal test?".

I blink again.  Apparently, blinking seems to be my solution to all things bad.

"Uh, no.  Well, maybe a long time ago, but I'm sure that I mentally blocked all of it.  What do I need to do?"

She pulls out FAR too many pieces to this little kit and tells me something about putting a tissue into the toilet and then using a stick to scrape two different areas.  Three separate times.

I say, and I promise you that this is verbatim, "Okay, but what if the poop is flying out of my ass with the pressure of a fire hose?"

Poor thing.  Now she was blinking.  And shaking her knee a bit.  She thought about it, while twirling one of the scraper sticks, and finally says, "I don't know how to answer that."

End scene.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Club Chemo: Vacation #3

I've been dreading #3.  Dreading it.  So much so that I was awake at 1:30am and that was after taking 2 Ambien.  I really think that the medical profession frowns on that sort of thing.

Why have I been dreading it?  Because I've learned, by self-discovery which was then confirmed by my Chemo CheerLeader (Nurse Practioner), that the side effects get worse because it's cumulative.  So round 2 was worse than round 1 and now round 3 was going to be worse than round 2.  I much prefer to float in the clouds of not knowing.  Whatchya don't know, won't hurt you!  A great saying...especially regarding this sort of thing.

Okay, so I get to my appointment with one minute to spare (I've mentioned how I have a hard time getting to my appointments seeing as how it's only a half mile from my front door).  My appointment is with Mr. Big.  THE oncologist.  I've only met him twice, both for long consults.  It's like he's just so dang smart and I get the feeling that he's trying to dumb it up for me...which I TOTALLY appreciate.  So sitting in his presence is a bit intimidating.  He was really happy with my progress and I felt like I walked away with an A+ on my medical file.  Ah, and I've lost 4 pounds since three weeks ago, so I'm pretty sure that I get extra credit points for that.

On my way over to the Club.  I'm a regular now.  Pretty much what I would guess owning a TimeShare is like.  You see the same faces, but you're there to do your own thing and don't really want to party it up with them, but need to be cordial since you'll see them again.  I see Sandra and say, "Welcome back from vacation!  I missed you!"...Nicole is at her computer and she looks up and says, "Hi Kim!  Love your scarf!"...New Nurse smiles...New Guy doesn't even acknowledge me (note to self...new guy is weird)...and then I see my chair.  MY chair is free and waiting for me.  Just as I go to claim it, Nicole says "oh, before you start, they need to see you back at the front desk".  My face fell.  "But my chair!" (and I point at it)  She tells me that I can set my stuff down first.  Saving my seat is important stuff :)  So I plunk down my things and draw a pretend chalk line around it to claim it as my own and then make my way back to the desk.  Apparently, the new year has arrived and my paid deductible for the year is zilch.  So Club Chemo/Time Share is a pretty pricey joint and I'm ever so thankful that the State of CA put money in my bank today.  

I rush back to my chair and discover that more people have come in.  HA!  MY chair was saved.  I see Roy/Ray and he waves.  IckyDirtyMan is there.  I see a lady that is on her last round.  I want to give her a high five, but then I think...germs.  How about a fist pump?  No, possible bruising.  This chemo crap makes it really hard to celebrate.  So I opt for the "thumbs up".  No harm done.


New Nurse is Gina.  She is friendly enough and I splatter off what I want and how I want it.  She says, "oookaaayyy" in that, "whateveh" sort of tone.  I'm just happy that I didn't get Weird New Guy setting me up.  He surely wouldn't have been as accommodating and then I would have had to get all ChemoCrazy on him.  Everything goes in well and good with no pain in my port.  "SEEEE!!!",  I say with glee.  Gina smiles and walks away, leaving me hooked up with my drip.  Nicole walks over to me with fresh batteries for my headphones (that made me giggle) and popped them in for me.  I was set.  I had my water, my snacks, and my crochet project all spread out.  

Now I had to pee.  Damn coffee.

I take all the stuff off of my lap, unplug my coat rack (which I'm happy to report no longer had the Christmas ornament on it) and headed towards the bathroom.  Sandra looks up from the desk and says, "You just got here!".  I respond, "I'm doing the coffee shuffle".  She started to laugh and was saying something in return, but I didn't have the time to listen.  Potty, potty, potty.  I come back and she continues on with the conversation as if I never left the room.  "Ha-ha-ha"...another thumbs up from me and it appears that I gave a good enough response to her funny quip.  For all I know, she could have told me that I had my pants on backwards.  

I check my pants.  I'm good.

I go through the plug in process, get all situated and then decide that I really should try for sleep since I only had 3 hours last night.  I close my eyes.  I'm listening to The View and then I think I've bumped the volume.  But noooo...there is a little party going on right next to me.  The lady seated next to me has four guests and they are loud.  Good grief. 

Ignore it.  Just ignore it.  Listen to Elizabeth on The View.  Crap, she is more irritating than The Tailgaters seated next to me.  

Eyes open, chair upright, crochet in hand.

Queasy comes quickly with this round, so I start in on my saltines.  After about 4, I notice that I'm covered in crumbs.  That's hot.  So I dust them off and make a better effort at containing my mess as I crunch the crackers into oblivion.  Once the Benedryl bag gets pumped into me, the groggies hit and I close my eyes.

Now I had to pee.  Damn coffee.

Sandra is with another patient, so I am free from having to worry about her referencing something that she said earlier.  Whew, dodged that bullet!  Do the potty thing and re-hook up.  Now I shall close my eyes.

And sleep comes.  I sleep sound through the first bag of chemo and am so disappointed that I still have a second one to go when my eyes open.  

There is no more sleep to be had here, I'm queasy and my batteries have run out.  So I do more crocheting and I start listening in on conversations.  The lady in the corner with the red, white and blue blanket is simply White Trash.  Her friend isn't as bad, but I feel more confident about my character call on White Trash as I listen to what she has to say.  Her friend leaves to buy cigarettes (really?) and White Trash eats out of her fast food bag while playing Electronic Slot Machine with the volume on.  We all get to hear her hit the pretend jackpot.  Thumbs up.  Her husband/boyfriend calls (ringer on full volume) and she says to him, "I don't get my money until tomorrow and I can't be buyin' you beer every day!"  It's amazing how cancer touches so many different sorts of people.  IckyDirtyMan is done and leaves.  Roy/Ray hasn't stopped talking to people since he arrived.  The Tailgaters have left and The Lady is left alone with her daughter.  She is quite old and frail.  This is her first treatment and my heart goes out to her.  She said to me, "My friend died last year and I've got to tell you that I was kind of glad to see her pass.  She was only still my friend due to years of being connected.  Well, then I got this cancer thing and my first thought was, "good God, now I've got to go be with her again!"".  That made me laugh.  Her daughter looked mortified and that made me laugh more.  Weird New Guy goes home and the nurses start talking about him...they don't like him either!  Then Gina goes over to where IckyDirtyMan was sitting to change his pillow cover and says, "Holy cow!  All these crumbs, it looks like a mouse has been eating over here!"  

I quickly dust my saltine crumbs off of my chair.  Did anyone see that?

It's finally over...the last bag beeps that it is empty.  I'm disconnected by Sandra and I pack up my things, do a final crumb check and I'm outta there.

Club Chemo visit #3 is history.  One more to go!

2011 Comes to a Close

I must say that this year of 2011 has been full of heart ache, stress and pain.  I had to help my boy dog Bogie cross over to the other side, my sweet Typsie cat ran away from home and then I found her lifeless body under a bus bench, and then there was the diagnoses of my breast cancer along with all the treatments, recovery, and insurance woes.  Dealing with all of the emotion has been such a growing experience for me.  Receiving the kindness and loving help of others has been simply overwhelming.  Simply.

All that being said and done, when you ask me what happened in 2011, I will tell you that I had a bright light brought into my life.  A rambunctious boy dog named Ozzie who was delivered to me on a cloud.  I will tell you that I had a strong and loving man at my side.  A caring, sweet hearted man named Richard that has been my emotional sponge.  I spill it all out and he wipes it all up.  I don't know how he does it.  Thank you to the big Universe that sent him my way.  I will tell you that I have the best friends that anyone can ask for...full of more love.

So to the year 2011, I say "Thank you."

Taken BC...still had my hair, still had a puppy that I could hold!

Round II

Let me just start out with my hair. After it started to fall out in clumps, Richard was sweet enough to shave it for me. That was last week. Today, I found myself using an eyebrow brush to comb my remaining hairs. It was a good move until I realized that I was just shaking more loose and my face was covered with 1/4 inch hairs. It was like a bad Super Cuts experience. C'mon, you know that we've all had one of those. I then get the brilliant idea to take a piece of tape to my head in order to pull out all of the loose buggers. Guess what? The grey ones are not budging. Black hairs came out nice and soft...grey are sticking straight out. Up close, my scalp looks like a worn out dish scrubber. I think I'm safe for use on Teflon.

I got to my appointment early. Well, three minutes early. That's my best yet. The center is a block from my front door and I've been 2 to 5 minutes late to every appointment. I hauld in my Club Chemo gear and started to head back to the room, when I was told that I needed to wait because I had an appointment with Miss Chemo USA. A beautiful fill in nurse practioner that had to review all of my stats. This meant the dreaded WEIGH IN. I found myself blabbing on and on to her about how I've gone crazy with food this past week and I'm sure that the number that was about to appear on the scale is just due to bloat. Salt. Okay...over consumption! She just flashed her pearly whites at me and I found myself green with envy that she had long flowing hair. Up 9 pounds. I rolled my eyes and stepped off, head hanging...as we trudged over to Cabana Room number 7. She did her thing and then I asked her about the moles on the top of my head. Now that I can SEE them, I have concerns about them being there. I took my hat off and she looked. She said that they all looked normal, but one that was dark should be checked out just in case. She wrote out a referral to the dermatologist and then said, "I must say, you have a very nicely shaped head!"

This is my new claim to cancer fame. The shape of my head.

Off I went to Club Chemo for my cocktails. I sat myself down in my chair. Yes, MY chair. It's the one that I sat in three weeks ago and it's going to be the one that I sit in three weeks from now. If anyone is in that chair, I'm going to bump them out. I was a pro this time and knew what to expect. The nurse got my meds pumping through my port and I took out my yarn and started my project...asked the nurse to replace my headphone batteries...and set out my crackers. Wait. Someone brought in donuts. OMG! I looked up at my coat rack and saw that the ornament was still hanging there (time to transition people...) and checked to see if I had enough slack to walk over to the box. Yes, I just found out that I gained 9 pounds, but the donut box was singing the most sweet song to me. I walked over and found the most glorious assortment. Grabbed a maple old fashioned...with a Kleenex...and went back to my chair. Looked at my crackers. Looked at my donut. Ate the donut.

Once that was done, I had to go to the bathroom a million times. Stupid coffee.

I got myself situated again, peepers on my nose, TV on "The View" and my yarn project had begun. An older man, in his 60's I'm guessing, sat down in the chair next to me (HA! SUCKER!! Had you got here an hour ago, you coulda had this prime chair! Don't even look at it.) He says, "Hi there. I'm Roy. What brings you here?" I looked at him over my peepers and said, "It's the only place I can go to crochet in peace." He laughed. Then I said, "No, really, it's all about holding the remote control. I don't get to do that at home." He laughed again. Then I got worried. His face said, "I really want to know why you're here" and I knew that he just wanted to have the opportunity to share what he was in for. I didn't really want to know. Ugh. Finally, I said, "I'm getting chemo for breast cancer." He said, "That's what I was guessing, but I didn't want to assume." Just because I'm a woman? Or did my boobs look weird? Was he looking at my boobs? Quit it!!! Then he proceeded to tell me about his stuff. Prostate, liver, lung cancer. He has to go in every week for a chemo cocktail. He just had a small bag and was gone after an hour. Poor Roy.

I fell asleep for an hour and woke up with about half a bag of chemo left to drip. My headphones died again, but didn't want to ask for more batteries. I might have to pay a co-pay for that. A lady that was leaving loaded up a plate with donuts, candy and Ensure. Rockin' diet. I bet that even with all that, she didn't gain 9 pounds. Pfft...whatever.

Another treatment done. Only two more to go!

Chemo-Schmemo

've got to tell you, chemo so far has not been bad.  Sure, it made me a little queasy for a few days.  However, compared to how I've felt after eating a bowl of ice cream, it was nothing.  For those that don't know, ice cream makes me the kind of sick where I don't want to be touched/looked at/talked to/alive.  Chemo has given me a lousy taste in my mouth along with a soreness very similar to the day after getting a bunch of dental work done.  Honestly, for anyone that is trying to lose weight, this is quite the gift.  All dieters should experience what it's like to eat to live.  You know how you hear that nonsense..."Eat to live, don't live to eat."  I say "pfft" to that!  Well, I used to say "pfft" to that.  Much easier now to see how brilliantly easy it is when food doesn't send one into a seratonin high.

What has been sheer HELL is the day after shot that is supposed to fire up my white blood cells.  Neulasta.  Neulasta=EVIL HELLACIOUS PAIN.  The website for this little gem says that a common side effect is "aching in the bones and muscles" that can be fixed with some Tylenol.  I'm calling bullshit on this.  

The only thing that keeps me from firing off an email to the FDA is that this awful pain is telling me that it's working.  Right?  Right.  

That's it for now.  I've got to go and take my Tylenol.  *insert crazy laughter*

Club Chemo

I had my first visit to Club Chemo this morning.  The last time I was here, it was for a preview and I thought it was the most miserable place I could ever go.  I felt so sorry for the teenage girl that was curled up and asleep in her chair.  I felt sorry for the women without hair, wearing odd hats.  I felt sorry that the people were so sick.

Turned out that Club Chemo is THE place to be for a girl like me.  

Going in, I didn't have a clue as to what the protocol or procedure was.  I just knew that there would be lab work done, premeds and then the chemo.  I was told to bring my own snacks and beverages since their snack bin "sucked".  The nurse's words, not mine.  In actuality, the snack bin did suck.  It looked like people dumped all of their leftover Halloween candy in there and then someone tossed in a few plastic wrapped pastries.  I sat down, and waited for Sandra to prep all my stuff.  Got the lay of the land, and took a visitors chair for some of my baggage.  I don't think that I've packed this much for an overnight trip...and I was only going to be here for 5 hours or so.  Better to be prepared.

As Sandra did her thing, I powered down half a sleeve of saltine crackers.  Nerves=need to crunch.  I'm sure that it was impressive to watch, but nobody commented on my ability to eat this many dry crackers in such a short amount of time.  Polite group of folks.  

It was time to get into this port of mine.  I was really surprised that she was able to feel exactly where to put the syringe!  I've been feeling this thing daily trying to guess.  Sandra says, "A little blood!"  I panic and tell my body to quit bleeding.  Does anyone else do this?  Talk to your body?  Anyhow, this was a mistake on my part.  She was trying to draw blood OUT to do the lab work.  My body quit bleeding.  No blood for the labs.  Sandra has me take a big breath.  Then has me take a big breath with a slow exhale.  Tilted my head back.  Then tilted my head forward.  Raised my arm.  Nothing.  Was I going to have to stand on my head next?  Close.  I decided to go into one of my bags for a water.  This one was sitting on the floor.  As I'm leaning over and to the right digging, Sandra announces, "I GOT SOME BLOOD!  DON'T MOVE!"  Seriously?  Am I going to have to be here like this for the next 5 hours?  

No.  Once she got her vials of blood, she sent them off to the lab to see if I was clear to receive treatment.  It's like getting your Chemo Club clearance.  Sure enough, all was fine.  So the pre-meds start flowing and then after about an hour, the chemo was administered.  I'm thinking, "so, this is what it's like to get poisoned.  Not terrible."

After the first bag of chemo, I dozed off.  The next thing I knew, the second bag was empty and it was time to go home.  Sandra says, "You took a good nap."  All I could think of was that I must have been snoring something terrible.  Oh well.  Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  

Note to self:  Don't drink 4 cups of coffee prior to treatment.  Going to the potty is a pain in the arse with that IV coat rack.  However, they did have an ornament hanging from it, so at least I was a seasonal rack dragger.

I've been home for 4 hours now and don't feel awful.  I'm drinking lots of fluids and am waiting for it to hit.  It being the sick part.  I'm thinking that I'll be fine.  Just fine.


New blog

I've decided to move my Facebook Notes over here to my personal blog.  I have a few friends that don't waste their time with Facebook (imagine that!) and I wanted to be able to share with them.  So for those of you on FB, this is all just a repeat!