the bamboozle...

I know. I have neglected my post!

technical updates: finished last chemo. good grief, talk about a love-hate relationship. PET scan results came back: cancer free, ladies and gents. Now I don’t get too excited about the stuff docs tell me because they gave me a lot of false hopes in the beginning of all of this, but yay!

just joined Imerman Angels as a way to connect to young adults currently undergoing treatment, diagnosis, etc…  I think it may wind up being more therapeutic for me than the care receiver. 

Daniel, my 14 year old brother, is in a phase.  He rides his 4 wheeler all over the neighborhood at an alarming speed; and performs some alarming stunts (sans helmet!) all of which he assures me are perfectly safe.  I hear myself sounding like a parent when i chide him for being irresponsible.  Oh let us think back on all the ways i have assumed my invincibility!  immaturity, say what you will.  In a way, i still believe i’m invincible. and in this same way, i still find myself doubting what the doctors say about the cancer.  I mean, i’m beginning to believe it enough to follow through with the chemotherapy.  i haven’t decided to treat myself with crystals or wheat grass enemas or magic chinese needles (or noodles!).  However, I’m still solidly cemented on the platform that i WILL NOT experience any side effects to the treatment.  Side effects mentioned are surely just the reports of complainers, right?  

Au contraire.. I report to you, fellow readers, that on the 14th day, as predicted by all medical journals and alarmist cancer blogs alike, the hair loss has begun.  

No matter how cute i was as a bald baby, no matter how many cool scarves i buy, i just am not prepared.  

especially not for the complete cold lack of understanding that comes from a gaggle of 14 year old boys. 

Well..  I finished college today (yesterday, technically)! And tomorrow (today, technically) I start chemo. Poetic, isn’t it? 

Anyway we will leave for Schumpert in about 6 hours and I, of course, cannot sleep. i’m trying to play like this is a super fun and wacky adventure.  but right now i kind of wish i could opt out of this chemo business and instead move to the Maldives, bathe in coconut oil, and drink fancy cocktails from a pineapple shell. 
that’s really only appealing though because i have to do something challenging.  I’m sure all those vacation resorts are sad and touristy.

What i’d really like is a ranch out west in the mountains.  My birthday is in 6 days.  just sayin’ :) i would also be willing to accept a farm for humble vegetable cultivation.

I thought I’d do a brief little pre-diagnosis timeline for those interested:

September 2010: I moved back from Chicago to finish up school in Ruston, Louisiana.  As many of you know, I had lived in Chicago for 15 months doing an exchange program through Louisiana Tech as well as working at an investment bank.  I came back to Ruston reluctantly with hopes of returning to Chicago after finishing the few months of school I had left.  During my time in Chicago and upon my return, I had become the healthiest I’ve ever been.  I was running 6 days a week, doing yoga, and eating a very veggie-centric diet.  I had finally stopped obsessing about my weight.  Little did I know.. angry little cancer cells were in cahoots with each other under the surface. 

In mid-October, shortly after I returned to my parent’s house, I developed a rash that looked like bug bites.  At first I thought I had brought back bed bugs from Chicago! Ew.  Shortly after that I felt a lump in my right breast, and as any good worrier would do: I freaked.  I had an ultrasound done and the doctors seemed to think the lump was innocuous. 

Shortly after Halloween some flu-like symptoms came upon me.  I had a persistent fever as well as sharp pains in the right side of my head.  I continued to go to class with the help of 4000 mgs of Acetaminophen a day. :)  One day in class I found an alarmingly large swollen lymph node behind my right ear.  I consulted the advice of a few friends; Amelia said it looked like an alien!  Cancer was the furthest thing from my mind.  And at this point, the breast lump and the lymph node were entirely unrelated to me. I saw a doctor who told me the node was probably a manifestation of an infection. 

Over Thanksgiving break I went to Chicago to see Brent and Amelia.  I wound up being sick the entire week; it was so strange during this time period because I would go from feeling great to feeling sick in a matter of days.  While I was up there I went to see my favorite doctor, Dr. Sharon Vocino at Northwestern, and she advised having the lymph node removed to assess it for cancer. Cancer, what!?

But look how healthy I look!

December 23, 2010: Dr. Kevin Marler at Christus Schumpert in Shreveport removed the lymph node behind my ear.  As I was coming out of Anesthesia he told me that the lymph node looked cancerous. 

January 5, 2011: Appointment at MD Anderson for a second opinion

January 7, 2011: Mom had a car wreck and spiraled into depression.  Fortunately my dad had been through this before with her 22 years ago when I was born.

January 9, 2011: 8:30PM: phone call from Dr. Samaniego at MD Anderson.  My dad and I listened hovered over my cell phone as he told me the diagnosis: Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma ALK pos. Treatment: CHOP chemotherapy every 21 days for 6 rounds. 

January 12, 2011: Dad and I went to appointment with Dr. Scott Boniol in Shreveport.  Dr. B gave the very same diagnosis as MD Anderson with the same treatment plan.  He explained in great detail T-cell lymphomas and my specific kind.  But the prognosis is good!

January 19, 2011: PET scan.  PET scans are kind of fun.  You get a boatload of sugar with a radioactive marker through your veins.  Unfortunately you don’t get to consume the sugar the fun way.  Because cancer cells love sugar (just like their host, yours truly) they are much more active like a bunch of ants.  After letting them percolate for an hour, you head to a machine that takes pictures of your insides.  Similar to an MRI. 
The PET scan results showed that I have activity in my neck, throat, stomach and bone marrow. 

January 22, 2011: Went to St. Francis North Monroe Hospital for pain in my belly.  fever: 103.5. won’t ever go there again. terrible nurses.

January 24, 2011: Appt with Dr. B to assess the next steps

January 28, 2011: Bone Marrow biopsy! not bad at all thanks to Dr. B and his great team.

And that pretty much brings you up to date.  I had my medi port surgery yesterday.  It is painful but that’s to be expected for a couple of days.  It is basically a device surgically installed under the skin, sewn into a large vein for easy access to the veins.  Which means no more IVs for me! Thank goodness!

If anyone’s curious as to how one reacts to 50mgs of Demerol administered intravenously, I’ll tell you.  This is the same drug Michael Jackson was self-medicating with for “insomnia”.  I reckon withdrawals to any serious addiction to this drug would result in some insomnia.  These are the things I did yesterday post bone-marrow biopsy:  slept, woke up, ate some chocolates, went back to sleep, woke up again, ate some ice cream, made hummus, made egg salad, called some friends and made no sense, went back to sleep. 

I was just told by dr. B that I have to have a bone marrow biopsy so I went out afterward and bought a bunch of gummy vitamins to feel better about the sad news.

ode to insomnia

I was awake for all the darkness. For all the dreams, the snores, the creaking bed frames.

I was awake for the sleepy shuffles to light switches

I was awake for the clanging of dishes, and cracking of eggs

I was awake for all the alarms, ringing and chirping at dawn.

I was awake for all the shuffling papers and blowdrying hair.

I was awake for the door slammed shut and the engine running.

I am awake in the silence again.