Chapter 19 March 2004, My 48th Birthday
March 2, 2004, today is my 48th birthday! Let's hope there are many more of these in the future. My hair is about an inch long so I decide to lose the scarf. My appreciation for this moment flows though me like a white light of energy. It brings me a physical reaction of a smile coupled with a light spring in my step. Birthday celebrations are important, especially in light of my current health situation. My gift to me today is a small shopping spree, small because I'm so cheap, but I let go of the purse strings just enough to purchase a few items to update my wardrobe for my new, healthier look. In my younger days I was an absolute slave to style. Now that I have children, their fashion needs are more fun to feed.
Today however is all about me, I can't believe I'm saying that, but it is true. I'm going to do something that will bring me frivolous fun. I decide to dote on myself rather than everyone else for a change. I need to rejuvenate and lift myself up.
When I was going through chemo I would visualize myself as a healthy, strong, fit and fabulous woman walking tall. Now, I feel that I am here in my new, more fashionable clothes. Visualization has been extremely important to me in realizing my goals and dreams when it comes to my illness. I picture myself healthy and happy doing something in the future, whether it be tomorrow or 5 to 10 years from now. Remember, your thoughts are precursors to your actions. Think big. Visualization not only gives me a daydream like escape but also hope that I can survive. Continually believe in the power of your mind. Positive thoughts, along with positive images and beliefs help in how I deal with being sick. I much prefer holding onto the belief that something inspiring is going to happen with this illness rather than something negative.
Today I can honestly say that, terminal illness and all, my life is good, my life is great! The tumors are still present but they have been mentally pushed back to the recesses of my mind while I enjoy this moment of being 48 years old. When I woke up I started my day by saying; thanks for letting me wake up in this nice, warm bed. Thanks for my home, my family, the food in my cupboards and refrigerator. I have been truly blessed. Count your good fortunes, because there are many. Instead concentrating on my illness I concentrate on all that I have to be grateful for.
Life's upsets happen to us for a reason. Our difficult situations end up bringing the most growth and possibly the most joy. I would not wish my situation on anyone, but I would also not wish that they never had to deal with adversity. Adversity is what brings us our strength and helps us grow. It shows us what we are made of. Let your own tragedies lead you into a more positive, uplifting light.
Today is April 1, 2004, I continue to feel healthy. My tumors are stable. People can't believe that I have a stage four cancer. It's amazing, but it seems as though the common cold can take you down faster than cancer. When you have cancer and you are not going through chemo you don't necessarily feel or look sick. Your energy level may be less than normal, but it's the cure of chemo that drags you down. There is a precarious balance between giving you enough chemo to kill the bad cells without killing all of the good ones.
Currently I am in my last semester of school and working at a gym teaching strength and conditioning classes. At 48 and full of cancer I am in better shape than many of my class participants. Exercise has become an important factor in helping me cope with my illness. Exercising puts you in a better mood. It helps increase your energy level and strength which helps you get through physically difficult times. Exercise also makes you stronger mentally. Pushing yourself to exercise, especially when you don't want to, gives you the mental courage to accomplish even more difficult tasks.
I am one of those people who likes exercise. Not all the time, there are many times that I don't want to take the time to exercise and I have to force myself to do so, but I always feel better after I do it. Keeping the end result in mind, like a healthier, better looking body helps with adherence. As a kid I was athletic. And it came easy to me. Gym was one of my favorite subjects. Academically I didn't shine, but athletically I did. Gym was an easy A.
Since high school I've remained intermittently physically active. While in school I was a gymnast and a cheerleader which increased my appetite. After high school I kept the appetite but stopped the activity. This was a mistake. My 5'4" frame amassed an excess of 150 lbs, which made me miserable. Unable to afford the continual rotation of increasingly larger sizes, coupled with the last draw remark my older brother Brendan made about me resembling a linebacker for the Green Bay Packers, I decided to change my eating and exercise habits.
My roommate and I went on a strict diet. We ate healthy foods, counted our calories and made a big production out of our meals. The table was set each evening with china and wine classes filled with lemon water. At the time we lived in Minneapolis near three beautiful lakes in the city. We walked every summer evening around Lake Harriet which was 2 to 3 miles. Our exercise and social needs were all met at the same time because there was an abundance of cute guys running, skating, biking or walking as well. We met a few prospects, lost some weight and best of all, gained an appreciation for exercise and healthier eating habits.
I kept exercising on and off throughout my life, stopping and starting during pregnancies and child rearing. When I was about to turn forty I decided to train for a 10K in honor of my brother in law Chuck who I spoke of earlier, passing away at age 38 from lung cancer. Getting in shape for the race wasn't easy but I was highly motivated, soon after the race I started to slack off and not exercise. It was just 6 months later when my troubled brother Kevin, also 38, passed away from an obesity related disease.
Experiencing the death of a loved one can transform your life. I wanted their deaths to mean something. A positive change was in order for my life to honor them. This is when I decided to look at exercise as a ritual, like brushing my teeth. How many people go three months without brushing their teeth? That would be gross wouldn't it? The body needs to be maintained with exercise just as badly as your teeth need to stay healthy by being brushed. This thinking was not only the catalyst for me to stay active, but to go back to school as well. My new career goal was to teach people to exercise, help them learn to love it and treat it as a fun activity rather than something they dread.
Advice
Get involved in your own happiness. It's all up to you.
Learn to dote on yourself. You deserve pampering
Start your day with positive affirmations. It will set you in the right frame of mind.
Visualize the future in a positive light.
Exercise, your body desperately needs it.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Chapter 18 January 2004, The Oil and Protein Diet
Chapter 18 January 2004, The Oil and Protein Diet
It's New Years Eve 2003, soon to be 2004. I am at home with my husband and daughters, ready for a new year to begin. It has been six month since my diagnosis. As I look back, it has been a difficult time, but it has also flown by. My friend Bonnie from down the block has been bugging me since my diagnosis to do this eating regimen called The Oil and Protein Diet by Dr. Johanna Budwig. Western medicine is not offering me much hope. I want to try a holistic approach along with the Femara to hopefully improve my chances for a longer life. This is the time to start it. I muster up the courage to commit to it. It is a strict diet, but I have decided to give it a shot.
Dr. Budwig's theory is "When you use highly unsaturated essential fatty acids (like those found in flax oil), and combine them with high quality protein, (which makes essential fats easily soluble in the body), it will counteract toxic and poisonous accumulations in all tissue. Basically the diet is good for many types of ailments. She believes that the bad oils and preserved foods that we consume create toxic and poisonous accumulations in our bodies which lead to disease.
My friend and I make the mix recipe together for the first time because the book is translated from German and the foods are called by different names. For example, quark is cottage cheese and Linomel is a muesli type cereal. Bonnie is kind enough to bring all the ingredients to my home to teach me how to make the mix which is an essential part of the diet.
First, we combine one cup of organic cottage cheese with three tablespoons of flax oil. Then, we add one teaspoon of vanilla and one tablespoon of organic honey. To that you add two tablespoons of ground flax seed, three tablespoons of sugar free muesli, 1/4 cup of organic raisins, 1/4 cup of organic raw walnuts and 1/4 cup of organic raw almonds. Then you add about 1/2 cup each of organic fresh or frozen fruits such as bananas, strawberries, grapes, cherries, blueberries, etc. You can add any type of fruit that you like. It doesn't have to be the above choices, but, they should be organic. This recipe may not sound appetizing, but it is actually delicious, filling and extremely satisfying. You can't taste the cottage cheese or the honey; it's almost like a cake batter. Once I started eating it, I got addicted. You eat this mix everyday for breakfast and lunch. For dinner, you may have salad made up of organic greens, nuts and flax oil dressing. The dressing is made up of flax oil, milk and mustard for flavor. This is actually very good as well.
You may eat any type of organic vegetables, and you can eventually add fish or organic chicken. No red meat. There is an entire cookbook, but I am too overwhelmed to cook separately for myself and then again for my family. If I am going to be successful at this I need to make it as simple as possible. Basically I eat the same thing every single day. It sounds boring, but this is all I can handle right now. Some days I eat a baked potato with melted parmesan cheese along with fish or poultry for dinner, and my dessert typically consists of God's dessert, an orange. My diet may vary just a tad from what the book suggests, but I do what I think I can. If I can't find organic fruit I use regular, but one should use organic.
As 2004 starts, the cancer diet is working for me. The mix addresses my sweet cravings. The honey sweetens everything and is better than processed sugar. Everything I've read indicates that sugar is bad for you. It is supposed to increase blood insulin levels and depress the immune system, which is what fights disease. It is also supposed to cause liver cells to divide and increase in size. I've never had a Doctor tell me that sugar is bad for cancer, but I've sure read many negative things about it. The problem is I love sugar! It has always been a constant in my diet. Sugar is addictive and I'm addicted to it. At least a quarter of my diet comes from sugar. I'm not sure why I like it so much, perhaps it is because we didn't get a lot of sugar growing up. Halloween was the time to eat sugar at our house. We filled our bags as full as possible and tried to eat it all in one night.
My Mom's parents were both obese. Her 8th grade teacher told her that this would be her fate as well, but she would prove her wrong. Ruth O'Brien is not one to be told how her future will present itself, especially if it is in a negative light. Thank God I got some of my determination from her. One of the many reasons I am so mentally strong.
Advice:
If you are not offered much hope through conventional medicine, keep trying new, holistic measures. What can it hurt?
Think about the things that you put into your body. Are they good for you? Try to slowly rid yourself of bad habits.
It's New Years Eve 2003, soon to be 2004. I am at home with my husband and daughters, ready for a new year to begin. It has been six month since my diagnosis. As I look back, it has been a difficult time, but it has also flown by. My friend Bonnie from down the block has been bugging me since my diagnosis to do this eating regimen called The Oil and Protein Diet by Dr. Johanna Budwig. Western medicine is not offering me much hope. I want to try a holistic approach along with the Femara to hopefully improve my chances for a longer life. This is the time to start it. I muster up the courage to commit to it. It is a strict diet, but I have decided to give it a shot.
Dr. Budwig's theory is "When you use highly unsaturated essential fatty acids (like those found in flax oil), and combine them with high quality protein, (which makes essential fats easily soluble in the body), it will counteract toxic and poisonous accumulations in all tissue. Basically the diet is good for many types of ailments. She believes that the bad oils and preserved foods that we consume create toxic and poisonous accumulations in our bodies which lead to disease.
My friend and I make the mix recipe together for the first time because the book is translated from German and the foods are called by different names. For example, quark is cottage cheese and Linomel is a muesli type cereal. Bonnie is kind enough to bring all the ingredients to my home to teach me how to make the mix which is an essential part of the diet.
First, we combine one cup of organic cottage cheese with three tablespoons of flax oil. Then, we add one teaspoon of vanilla and one tablespoon of organic honey. To that you add two tablespoons of ground flax seed, three tablespoons of sugar free muesli, 1/4 cup of organic raisins, 1/4 cup of organic raw walnuts and 1/4 cup of organic raw almonds. Then you add about 1/2 cup each of organic fresh or frozen fruits such as bananas, strawberries, grapes, cherries, blueberries, etc. You can add any type of fruit that you like. It doesn't have to be the above choices, but, they should be organic. This recipe may not sound appetizing, but it is actually delicious, filling and extremely satisfying. You can't taste the cottage cheese or the honey; it's almost like a cake batter. Once I started eating it, I got addicted. You eat this mix everyday for breakfast and lunch. For dinner, you may have salad made up of organic greens, nuts and flax oil dressing. The dressing is made up of flax oil, milk and mustard for flavor. This is actually very good as well.
You may eat any type of organic vegetables, and you can eventually add fish or organic chicken. No red meat. There is an entire cookbook, but I am too overwhelmed to cook separately for myself and then again for my family. If I am going to be successful at this I need to make it as simple as possible. Basically I eat the same thing every single day. It sounds boring, but this is all I can handle right now. Some days I eat a baked potato with melted parmesan cheese along with fish or poultry for dinner, and my dessert typically consists of God's dessert, an orange. My diet may vary just a tad from what the book suggests, but I do what I think I can. If I can't find organic fruit I use regular, but one should use organic.
As 2004 starts, the cancer diet is working for me. The mix addresses my sweet cravings. The honey sweetens everything and is better than processed sugar. Everything I've read indicates that sugar is bad for you. It is supposed to increase blood insulin levels and depress the immune system, which is what fights disease. It is also supposed to cause liver cells to divide and increase in size. I've never had a Doctor tell me that sugar is bad for cancer, but I've sure read many negative things about it. The problem is I love sugar! It has always been a constant in my diet. Sugar is addictive and I'm addicted to it. At least a quarter of my diet comes from sugar. I'm not sure why I like it so much, perhaps it is because we didn't get a lot of sugar growing up. Halloween was the time to eat sugar at our house. We filled our bags as full as possible and tried to eat it all in one night.
My Mom's parents were both obese. Her 8th grade teacher told her that this would be her fate as well, but she would prove her wrong. Ruth O'Brien is not one to be told how her future will present itself, especially if it is in a negative light. Thank God I got some of my determination from her. One of the many reasons I am so mentally strong.
Advice:
If you are not offered much hope through conventional medicine, keep trying new, holistic measures. What can it hurt?
Think about the things that you put into your body. Are they good for you? Try to slowly rid yourself of bad habits.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Capter 17 Christmas 2003 in Minnesota
Chapter 17 Christmas 2003 in Minnesota
Mike, the girls, and I are traveling to Minnesota to celebrate the Christmas holiday with my family. It has been several years since we've been home for Christmas so we are looking forward to the trip. Albert Lea is the name of the town I grew up in. The population is around 18,000 and there is not much to do at the height of winter, besides skating, skiing or sledding. We do manage to make it up to the Mall of America to do a little last minute Christmas shopping. This mall boasts an indoor amusement park along with the many stores so it is easy to spend a warm day in the middle of the coldest season of the year. As always we meet up with my other siblings and their families for a day of Christmas shopping and amusement park fun.
Christmas Eve was upon us, this year will be especially nice because my oldest brother Brendan, not so recently divorced and his son Mike make the long trip from San Francisco to be with us. Brendan's other two children Christine and Amy were unable join us. I have not seen Michael since he was a young boy. The circumstances motivating their visit, my health, are sad, but seeing them both makes me happy. Brendan has lived in San Francisco for the last twenty years. He runs his own landscaping business and can never get away, so consequently, he and his family have missed our summer family reunions in Minnesota Brendan has always been special to me. He is the first born, the prodigal son, in high school he was a great at everything, straight A student, accomplished track and cross country star and a bit of a ladies man. I believe he still holds the record at our high school for the mile run, set in 1968. I've always admired him. College life in the late 60's opened his eyes to a different way of thinking and living. He joined a Commune, so to speak, and left everything behind for the hippie lifestyle in Northern California. Brendan is a gentle, kind soul who plods away at his work without complaint and I respect him for that.
When we first see Mike he seems a bit shy, the O'Brien's are an overwhelming group. He is a handsome kid, a good mix of his mother and father. His eyes are big and wide taking all the O'Brien family antics in. There is laughter and bickering and political conversations going on. When we are all home in my parent's house there is chatter all around. You don't know which conversation to dip into next.
That night we went to Midnight Mass. My dad is the choir director at the church and my mom sings in the choir. My feelings about the church were mixed. This was the church where I made my First Communion and Confirmation; it was also the church where my younger brother's funeral was held. Memories flooded my mind as I walked in.
St. Theodore's is also the church where my siblings and I would spill into muffled laughter during sermons. Tonight was no exception, even though we are all adults. My sister Paddy, who hasn't been to church in years, went to Communion and as the priest lifted the host to her she took it out of his hand. Generally you wait for the priest to put the host in your mouth or your hand. He looked a little shocked when Paddy grabbed it from him. Paddy is my highly successful, older sister, by three years. She made the trip with her daughter Samantha, her husband David and Step daughter Sarah have stayed home. Paddy is a Radio Sales Representative in Los Angeles and could sell boats in the desert. When she was little, she was going door to door selling Girl Scout cookies, upon reaching a neighbors house ready to knock, the door flew open as a woman flew out in excitement yelling, "Your Mom just had her baby," Paddy's response was, "My Mom 's always having babies, you wanna buy some cookies?"
Paddy's antics may have set the tone for our chuckling, but the animated priest brought it home. As he makes the sign of the cross, his arms fully extend and he completely exaggerates, pointing to the north, south, east and west, as he yells out, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, this made us laugh under our breath even more. During the sermon he would pause and turn his head slightly upward like he was listening intently to someone, and then he would look back at the parishioners with great enthusiasm and delve back into his story. Need I spell it out? This behavior brought around many smiles to the badly behaved O'Brien's in the first three rows at church. You'd never know we were all in our forties and fifties. The light laughter mixed with love and warmth carried through the entire service.
After mass we said hello to a few familiar faces. Everyone knew about my condition; word travels fast in a small town. They were all praying for me. There was no shortage of tears and hugs. It was nice. I saw a grade school friend, Jim Hockinson, a boy I bit in the arm and held on like a dog with a bone after being called flatso one too many times. I was teased relentlessly about my 28 A bra size in the 6th grade. He never teased me again after that incident, or let me forget it.
Afterwards we went home for a Christmas Eve celebration filled with good food, cocktails, and as always, a dose of controversy. My nephew Mike was surrounded by family members he had not met or couldn't remember. His big eyes roamed the crowd. All of his cousins were interested in getting to know him so for the remainder of the evening he was peppered with questions and conversations. It did my heart good to see him bonding with his relatives after all these years.
Christmas day was a typical O'Brien get together. Most of us were home. We missed my brother Brian and his family, Maureen and John's children and my sister Alice. Brian is a great guy. We love having him at family events because he is a wonderful cook and a fun, loving guy. He, his second wife Rhonda and his kids, Heather, Joe and Ryan stayed in Denver for the Holiday. My sister Alice and her life mate, Martin, live in Iowa. They prefer quiet Christmases so they stay in Iowa, but are always home for Thanksgiving. Maureen's children Tony who lives in Colorado and Angie and her family who live in Arizona were also unable to make it home.
The morning was busy with food preparation. First there was coffee, breakfast and conversation, nothing about my illness, just light talk. That was followed up by dinner preparation. My Mom started making her usual 22lb turkey early in the morning.
Opening Christmas gifts is an early ritual because the kids are too anxious to wait. At the O'Brien house we move slowly around the room watching one person at a time open their gifts so the moment and statements can be cherished.
Dinner is served after all the morning and afternoon hustle bustle. We set up a buffet style for the big crowd, Dad quiets us all down, which isn't easy so he usually gets a little testy and then he thanks God for all of us getting there safely, this year he adds a special prayer for me and my health which brings tears to a few eyes and finally we eat.
When you have twenty or more family members together in a small space for an extended period of time, with or without alcohol, there is bound to be drama. There has never been an O'Brien function without it. Dad, or another family member makes a comment that offends someone, not on purpose, but it happens then feelings are hurt and an argument ensues. Two of my sisters lightly bicker about who was doing more cleaning up after dinner. Some people in my family sit around and relax after dinner and others have to get up clean right away. Disagreements arise because of this. There is rarely a dull or quiet moment at the O'Brien's.
On such holidays, it is good to see everyone and good to go home. We left the day after Christmas. Everyone stopped at Mom and Dad's for breakfast and goodbyes. The mood was quiet and loving. Eyes glistened with tears. We all hugged one another a little tighter. Hugs for Mom and Dad were a little tighter than usual to assure them I was strong and ready to fight. Gone were the memories of any squabbling from the day before. My girls, fond of their new found friendship with their cousin Mike, made him promise to stay in touch. Mike told Alex he'd be around to take her out for her 1st drink at 21.
On our way home we made a brief stop in Chicago, the town where our two older daughters were born. It's also the town where two of my best friends, Jeanne Rivard and Della Garcia, godmothers' to my daughters, live. I met Jeanne about a year after I moved to Chicago. We worked for a crazy guy named Paul Stuck, he was the owner Recycled Furniture. The man spent most of his time ranting and raving or calculating ways to screw people. It was an interesting job. Jeanne and I became fast friends in 1984 and have remained so ever since.
1984 was also my first encounter with Della, but it was just over the phone. She was forced by her boss to buy some furniture from us, she was not happy about it and she wasn't afraid to tell us. When she called our company we would all yell "It's Della!" I was afraid of her because she came across as an angry woman over the phone. Della was an absolute perfectionist but Paul Stuck's Recycled Furniture was not. Little did I know, Mike Wetzel, my future husband whom I had not met yet, also an absolute perfectionist was the person who sold Della and her company all of their brand new, nice furniture. It was a huge account for Mike and he and Della had a good working relationship, hence the anger spewing from her voice every time she called.
It wasn't until a year later that I met Della in person through none other than Mike Wetzel. I met them both at the same time. I was working at a different company, one that cleaned office furniture. Mike had called about a client that had some smoke damage to their office furniture and needed our services.
Della's company was the client, and I was scared to death to meet her! I met Mike first, in the lobby of Della's building, he was cute and I could tell he thought I was cute. This made me a little less nervous. Once we sat down with Della and I met her big, brown, warm eyes with mine I could see that she was a puppy dog and not the angry bear I had once witnessed over the phone. We eventually became great friends. Mike and I started dating a few weeks later as well.
Della and Jeanne have been in our lives sharing all of our ups and downs. They were at our wedding our special occasions, the birth of our daughters, birthdays, and anniversaries. I was hospitalized three months after Alex was born with a kidney infection. Jeanne came to the hospital with Mike while Della took care of Alex. Not only did Alex scream the whole night, but Della came outside to find her car stolen. Jeanne and Della have always been there for me.
Mike and I spent many good years in Chicago and made many friends. We did not have time to see all of the people we love and care about, but we did stop to see Della and Jeanne. They are like family to us and we don't see them often enough. They are devastated by my illness and again offer whatever we may need in the form of love and help. I assure them as well that I'm ready for a fight.
Advice
Make time to share special occasions with family you don't see often.
Make it a priority to see old friends, their love and support will motivate you.
Let your kids or loved one's see how important relationships are.
Share fun times with your family when your sick so they see that life goes on even in, or especially in difficult situatons
Mike, the girls, and I are traveling to Minnesota to celebrate the Christmas holiday with my family. It has been several years since we've been home for Christmas so we are looking forward to the trip. Albert Lea is the name of the town I grew up in. The population is around 18,000 and there is not much to do at the height of winter, besides skating, skiing or sledding. We do manage to make it up to the Mall of America to do a little last minute Christmas shopping. This mall boasts an indoor amusement park along with the many stores so it is easy to spend a warm day in the middle of the coldest season of the year. As always we meet up with my other siblings and their families for a day of Christmas shopping and amusement park fun.
Christmas Eve was upon us, this year will be especially nice because my oldest brother Brendan, not so recently divorced and his son Mike make the long trip from San Francisco to be with us. Brendan's other two children Christine and Amy were unable join us. I have not seen Michael since he was a young boy. The circumstances motivating their visit, my health, are sad, but seeing them both makes me happy. Brendan has lived in San Francisco for the last twenty years. He runs his own landscaping business and can never get away, so consequently, he and his family have missed our summer family reunions in Minnesota Brendan has always been special to me. He is the first born, the prodigal son, in high school he was a great at everything, straight A student, accomplished track and cross country star and a bit of a ladies man. I believe he still holds the record at our high school for the mile run, set in 1968. I've always admired him. College life in the late 60's opened his eyes to a different way of thinking and living. He joined a Commune, so to speak, and left everything behind for the hippie lifestyle in Northern California. Brendan is a gentle, kind soul who plods away at his work without complaint and I respect him for that.
When we first see Mike he seems a bit shy, the O'Brien's are an overwhelming group. He is a handsome kid, a good mix of his mother and father. His eyes are big and wide taking all the O'Brien family antics in. There is laughter and bickering and political conversations going on. When we are all home in my parent's house there is chatter all around. You don't know which conversation to dip into next.
That night we went to Midnight Mass. My dad is the choir director at the church and my mom sings in the choir. My feelings about the church were mixed. This was the church where I made my First Communion and Confirmation; it was also the church where my younger brother's funeral was held. Memories flooded my mind as I walked in.
St. Theodore's is also the church where my siblings and I would spill into muffled laughter during sermons. Tonight was no exception, even though we are all adults. My sister Paddy, who hasn't been to church in years, went to Communion and as the priest lifted the host to her she took it out of his hand. Generally you wait for the priest to put the host in your mouth or your hand. He looked a little shocked when Paddy grabbed it from him. Paddy is my highly successful, older sister, by three years. She made the trip with her daughter Samantha, her husband David and Step daughter Sarah have stayed home. Paddy is a Radio Sales Representative in Los Angeles and could sell boats in the desert. When she was little, she was going door to door selling Girl Scout cookies, upon reaching a neighbors house ready to knock, the door flew open as a woman flew out in excitement yelling, "Your Mom just had her baby," Paddy's response was, "My Mom 's always having babies, you wanna buy some cookies?"
Paddy's antics may have set the tone for our chuckling, but the animated priest brought it home. As he makes the sign of the cross, his arms fully extend and he completely exaggerates, pointing to the north, south, east and west, as he yells out, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, this made us laugh under our breath even more. During the sermon he would pause and turn his head slightly upward like he was listening intently to someone, and then he would look back at the parishioners with great enthusiasm and delve back into his story. Need I spell it out? This behavior brought around many smiles to the badly behaved O'Brien's in the first three rows at church. You'd never know we were all in our forties and fifties. The light laughter mixed with love and warmth carried through the entire service.
After mass we said hello to a few familiar faces. Everyone knew about my condition; word travels fast in a small town. They were all praying for me. There was no shortage of tears and hugs. It was nice. I saw a grade school friend, Jim Hockinson, a boy I bit in the arm and held on like a dog with a bone after being called flatso one too many times. I was teased relentlessly about my 28 A bra size in the 6th grade. He never teased me again after that incident, or let me forget it.
Afterwards we went home for a Christmas Eve celebration filled with good food, cocktails, and as always, a dose of controversy. My nephew Mike was surrounded by family members he had not met or couldn't remember. His big eyes roamed the crowd. All of his cousins were interested in getting to know him so for the remainder of the evening he was peppered with questions and conversations. It did my heart good to see him bonding with his relatives after all these years.
Christmas day was a typical O'Brien get together. Most of us were home. We missed my brother Brian and his family, Maureen and John's children and my sister Alice. Brian is a great guy. We love having him at family events because he is a wonderful cook and a fun, loving guy. He, his second wife Rhonda and his kids, Heather, Joe and Ryan stayed in Denver for the Holiday. My sister Alice and her life mate, Martin, live in Iowa. They prefer quiet Christmases so they stay in Iowa, but are always home for Thanksgiving. Maureen's children Tony who lives in Colorado and Angie and her family who live in Arizona were also unable to make it home.
The morning was busy with food preparation. First there was coffee, breakfast and conversation, nothing about my illness, just light talk. That was followed up by dinner preparation. My Mom started making her usual 22lb turkey early in the morning.
Opening Christmas gifts is an early ritual because the kids are too anxious to wait. At the O'Brien house we move slowly around the room watching one person at a time open their gifts so the moment and statements can be cherished.
Dinner is served after all the morning and afternoon hustle bustle. We set up a buffet style for the big crowd, Dad quiets us all down, which isn't easy so he usually gets a little testy and then he thanks God for all of us getting there safely, this year he adds a special prayer for me and my health which brings tears to a few eyes and finally we eat.
When you have twenty or more family members together in a small space for an extended period of time, with or without alcohol, there is bound to be drama. There has never been an O'Brien function without it. Dad, or another family member makes a comment that offends someone, not on purpose, but it happens then feelings are hurt and an argument ensues. Two of my sisters lightly bicker about who was doing more cleaning up after dinner. Some people in my family sit around and relax after dinner and others have to get up clean right away. Disagreements arise because of this. There is rarely a dull or quiet moment at the O'Brien's.
On such holidays, it is good to see everyone and good to go home. We left the day after Christmas. Everyone stopped at Mom and Dad's for breakfast and goodbyes. The mood was quiet and loving. Eyes glistened with tears. We all hugged one another a little tighter. Hugs for Mom and Dad were a little tighter than usual to assure them I was strong and ready to fight. Gone were the memories of any squabbling from the day before. My girls, fond of their new found friendship with their cousin Mike, made him promise to stay in touch. Mike told Alex he'd be around to take her out for her 1st drink at 21.
On our way home we made a brief stop in Chicago, the town where our two older daughters were born. It's also the town where two of my best friends, Jeanne Rivard and Della Garcia, godmothers' to my daughters, live. I met Jeanne about a year after I moved to Chicago. We worked for a crazy guy named Paul Stuck, he was the owner Recycled Furniture. The man spent most of his time ranting and raving or calculating ways to screw people. It was an interesting job. Jeanne and I became fast friends in 1984 and have remained so ever since.
1984 was also my first encounter with Della, but it was just over the phone. She was forced by her boss to buy some furniture from us, she was not happy about it and she wasn't afraid to tell us. When she called our company we would all yell "It's Della!" I was afraid of her because she came across as an angry woman over the phone. Della was an absolute perfectionist but Paul Stuck's Recycled Furniture was not. Little did I know, Mike Wetzel, my future husband whom I had not met yet, also an absolute perfectionist was the person who sold Della and her company all of their brand new, nice furniture. It was a huge account for Mike and he and Della had a good working relationship, hence the anger spewing from her voice every time she called.
It wasn't until a year later that I met Della in person through none other than Mike Wetzel. I met them both at the same time. I was working at a different company, one that cleaned office furniture. Mike had called about a client that had some smoke damage to their office furniture and needed our services.
Della's company was the client, and I was scared to death to meet her! I met Mike first, in the lobby of Della's building, he was cute and I could tell he thought I was cute. This made me a little less nervous. Once we sat down with Della and I met her big, brown, warm eyes with mine I could see that she was a puppy dog and not the angry bear I had once witnessed over the phone. We eventually became great friends. Mike and I started dating a few weeks later as well.
Della and Jeanne have been in our lives sharing all of our ups and downs. They were at our wedding our special occasions, the birth of our daughters, birthdays, and anniversaries. I was hospitalized three months after Alex was born with a kidney infection. Jeanne came to the hospital with Mike while Della took care of Alex. Not only did Alex scream the whole night, but Della came outside to find her car stolen. Jeanne and Della have always been there for me.
Mike and I spent many good years in Chicago and made many friends. We did not have time to see all of the people we love and care about, but we did stop to see Della and Jeanne. They are like family to us and we don't see them often enough. They are devastated by my illness and again offer whatever we may need in the form of love and help. I assure them as well that I'm ready for a fight.
Advice
Make time to share special occasions with family you don't see often.
Make it a priority to see old friends, their love and support will motivate you.
Let your kids or loved one's see how important relationships are.
Share fun times with your family when your sick so they see that life goes on even in, or especially in difficult situatons
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Chapter 16 - Going Off Chemo - October 2003
Chapter 16 - Going off Chemo, October 2003
By October 2003 the chemo side effects are getting to be too much for me to handle. Frustration is settling in, I am exhausted most of the time; this, coupled with all of the other negative side effects is wearing me down physically. Emotionally I still feel brave and I continually pray to God for help in holding on. There are so many people close to my heart struggling, so I try to keep my own feelings at bay.
Being strong for my supporters is almost a selfish act for me. When I am strong, they are strong. My mental tenacity is empowered by knowing I am setting an example for everyone. My strength comes out in subtle ways; first of all I have not crumbled up into a ball and wallowed in self pity, maybe because I am too frightened to do so for fear of what would happen if I did. If I react with fear or panic would this illness take a hold of me and swallow me up?
On the day of and the day following chemo I lay around more, this makes the kids and Mike panic a little. I continue to explain to everyone that it is the chemo and not the cancer that is making me sick. Other than chemo days I get out of bed early, before everyone else to perform my daily ritual of drinking tea and having a conversation with God in my living room or on my deck, or even standing in the woods behind my house. I make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for my family like clockwork.
My strength manifests itself by being a participant in my ordinary, everyday life. If I get depressed, I work hard at lifting myself up by thinking of all the good that I have in my life, I don't stay in bed all day long. I just march along like a little soldier. And believe me, on some days that alone, takes strength, but, you push yourself and push yourself and then one day you realize you don't have to push so hard. However, I reiterate, it is becoming increasingly more difficult to be a rock in the light of these side effects. I pray to find some other source of power. I need to find something for me. Day after day I put one foot in front of the other and trudge on. When I go to bed, my new and most favorite time of day, I pray for strength and a break until I fall asleep. Just when my situation seems to be the darkest, a little ray of light appears and I can feel hope streaming through. My tumors in the liver have shrunk a bit and have stabilized. Because of this, as well as, the doctor's concern that some of the side effects, like the neuropathy, the numbness in the hands and feet, might become permanent, the oncologist decides to take me off chemo and put me on a hormone therapy. How do ya like me now? Is all I have to say to myself. This is right up there with any of the great joys I have experienced in my life.
Femara is an oral chemotherapy drug which doesn't allow an enzyme called aromatase to convert androgens into estrogen. My cancer is estrogen receptor positive which means it is fed by estrogen. Without estrogen present the tumor can't grow and will hopefully shrink. The side effects for me are nothing. My hair has started to grow back. I don't have any bone or joint pain, nausea or hot flashes like some woman do with this drug.
I am thrilled. Thanksgiving is just around the corner and I am looking forward to actually tasting those wonderful foods like; turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and pumpkin pie, my absolute favorite dishes. Suddenly I have so much more to be thankful for.
If the hormone therapy works, the doctor tells me, I can stay on it indefinitely. The longest anyone, with my diagnosis, has survived on Femara is five years. I hope to break that record. My immediate goal for survival is nine years-- that will put the kids through high school-- but I'm working on short term goals right now; like surviving on a daily basis and then monthly basis. When I reach a goal, I set another and keep on going. Who knows? I might be here to see my children make their own lives; graduate high school, college, have careers and eventually families of their own.
When you're fighting for your life, it's important to have goals. Write them down, and look at them every day. Visualize yourself being healthy. This just helps keep you on track, once you've written a goal down you've made a commitment, keep it in a place where you'll see it every day reminding you of what you are trying to achieve. "If you can see it and believe it you can achieve it."
By mid-November, my hair has covered my head like a scruffy, short beard. I still wear a rag on my head, something I'll do until it gets to an acceptable length. The first time I went through chemo I took the scarf off as soon as I had a little growth covering my entire head, this garnered some very shocked looks from people. I was at my daughters' school picking them up. Upon walking into Katie's classroom I was welcomed with surprised looks. This was not just from the kids but adults as well. Their stares made me feel uncomfortable, but there was one little boy with red hair and glasses from Frankie's first grade class that walked past me, pointed and yelled out, "Nice haircut Mrs. Wetzel." (All the kids call me Mrs. Wetzel because it's my husband and daughter's last name, I kept my maiden name, O'Brien) leave it to a little kid to make everything better. I love that kid, he made me smile.
My eyes and nails are clearing up. I am beaming. You can't imagine how fortunate I feel to have normal nails and eyes that don't constantly water. My survival, I know, is enhanced because I cherish the positive aspects of this fight, I appreciate feeling better even if it is just a little bit. It's important to be grateful for every little crumb because positive feelings not only build on one another they make you focus on all the good things that are happening and not the bad. This helps you slowly become mentally stronger.
Thanksgiving is a perfect holiday to share one's gratitude with their family, but this Thanksgiving is special for me. I am alive and off chemo. And, because of my disease, I've honed the skill of appreciation. Chalk another one up for the cancer card. Growing up, Thanksgivings were always hectic. I came from a family of twelve, so it was crazy. My mom always bought a 22 lb turkey which was devoured by the next day. We loved the meal complete with all the regular trimmings. She also made fresh cranberries, which I hated. One year I took a spoonful and spit it back in the bowl. My Dad got so angry at me and sent me down to the basement to eat with the dog. Consequently, I never include cranberries at my own Thanksgiving celebration.
This year, our Thanksgiving would be quaint. We celebrated with my immediate family and Mike's father. Mike's Mom and her friend Chuck stopped over in the evening for a late dessert. I enjoyed the quiet day, but I missed my Mom, Dad and siblings, too. We were especially grateful so we each took a turn expressing our thanks, crying and holding hands. It was a meal that was perfect, void of the usual bickering between the girls. Just perfect!
Advice
If you are a believer, pray, if nothing else, it creates a calming effect.
If you can't fight the fight for you, fight it for someone else, it helps bridge the gaps.
Learn to push yourself even when you don't want to, you soon find you don't have to push so hard, or even at times, at all.
Be grateful for every morsel of good.
By October 2003 the chemo side effects are getting to be too much for me to handle. Frustration is settling in, I am exhausted most of the time; this, coupled with all of the other negative side effects is wearing me down physically. Emotionally I still feel brave and I continually pray to God for help in holding on. There are so many people close to my heart struggling, so I try to keep my own feelings at bay.
Being strong for my supporters is almost a selfish act for me. When I am strong, they are strong. My mental tenacity is empowered by knowing I am setting an example for everyone. My strength comes out in subtle ways; first of all I have not crumbled up into a ball and wallowed in self pity, maybe because I am too frightened to do so for fear of what would happen if I did. If I react with fear or panic would this illness take a hold of me and swallow me up?
On the day of and the day following chemo I lay around more, this makes the kids and Mike panic a little. I continue to explain to everyone that it is the chemo and not the cancer that is making me sick. Other than chemo days I get out of bed early, before everyone else to perform my daily ritual of drinking tea and having a conversation with God in my living room or on my deck, or even standing in the woods behind my house. I make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for my family like clockwork.
My strength manifests itself by being a participant in my ordinary, everyday life. If I get depressed, I work hard at lifting myself up by thinking of all the good that I have in my life, I don't stay in bed all day long. I just march along like a little soldier. And believe me, on some days that alone, takes strength, but, you push yourself and push yourself and then one day you realize you don't have to push so hard. However, I reiterate, it is becoming increasingly more difficult to be a rock in the light of these side effects. I pray to find some other source of power. I need to find something for me. Day after day I put one foot in front of the other and trudge on. When I go to bed, my new and most favorite time of day, I pray for strength and a break until I fall asleep. Just when my situation seems to be the darkest, a little ray of light appears and I can feel hope streaming through. My tumors in the liver have shrunk a bit and have stabilized. Because of this, as well as, the doctor's concern that some of the side effects, like the neuropathy, the numbness in the hands and feet, might become permanent, the oncologist decides to take me off chemo and put me on a hormone therapy. How do ya like me now? Is all I have to say to myself. This is right up there with any of the great joys I have experienced in my life.
Femara is an oral chemotherapy drug which doesn't allow an enzyme called aromatase to convert androgens into estrogen. My cancer is estrogen receptor positive which means it is fed by estrogen. Without estrogen present the tumor can't grow and will hopefully shrink. The side effects for me are nothing. My hair has started to grow back. I don't have any bone or joint pain, nausea or hot flashes like some woman do with this drug.
I am thrilled. Thanksgiving is just around the corner and I am looking forward to actually tasting those wonderful foods like; turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and pumpkin pie, my absolute favorite dishes. Suddenly I have so much more to be thankful for.
If the hormone therapy works, the doctor tells me, I can stay on it indefinitely. The longest anyone, with my diagnosis, has survived on Femara is five years. I hope to break that record. My immediate goal for survival is nine years-- that will put the kids through high school-- but I'm working on short term goals right now; like surviving on a daily basis and then monthly basis. When I reach a goal, I set another and keep on going. Who knows? I might be here to see my children make their own lives; graduate high school, college, have careers and eventually families of their own.
When you're fighting for your life, it's important to have goals. Write them down, and look at them every day. Visualize yourself being healthy. This just helps keep you on track, once you've written a goal down you've made a commitment, keep it in a place where you'll see it every day reminding you of what you are trying to achieve. "If you can see it and believe it you can achieve it."
By mid-November, my hair has covered my head like a scruffy, short beard. I still wear a rag on my head, something I'll do until it gets to an acceptable length. The first time I went through chemo I took the scarf off as soon as I had a little growth covering my entire head, this garnered some very shocked looks from people. I was at my daughters' school picking them up. Upon walking into Katie's classroom I was welcomed with surprised looks. This was not just from the kids but adults as well. Their stares made me feel uncomfortable, but there was one little boy with red hair and glasses from Frankie's first grade class that walked past me, pointed and yelled out, "Nice haircut Mrs. Wetzel." (All the kids call me Mrs. Wetzel because it's my husband and daughter's last name, I kept my maiden name, O'Brien) leave it to a little kid to make everything better. I love that kid, he made me smile.
My eyes and nails are clearing up. I am beaming. You can't imagine how fortunate I feel to have normal nails and eyes that don't constantly water. My survival, I know, is enhanced because I cherish the positive aspects of this fight, I appreciate feeling better even if it is just a little bit. It's important to be grateful for every little crumb because positive feelings not only build on one another they make you focus on all the good things that are happening and not the bad. This helps you slowly become mentally stronger.
Thanksgiving is a perfect holiday to share one's gratitude with their family, but this Thanksgiving is special for me. I am alive and off chemo. And, because of my disease, I've honed the skill of appreciation. Chalk another one up for the cancer card. Growing up, Thanksgivings were always hectic. I came from a family of twelve, so it was crazy. My mom always bought a 22 lb turkey which was devoured by the next day. We loved the meal complete with all the regular trimmings. She also made fresh cranberries, which I hated. One year I took a spoonful and spit it back in the bowl. My Dad got so angry at me and sent me down to the basement to eat with the dog. Consequently, I never include cranberries at my own Thanksgiving celebration.
This year, our Thanksgiving would be quaint. We celebrated with my immediate family and Mike's father. Mike's Mom and her friend Chuck stopped over in the evening for a late dessert. I enjoyed the quiet day, but I missed my Mom, Dad and siblings, too. We were especially grateful so we each took a turn expressing our thanks, crying and holding hands. It was a meal that was perfect, void of the usual bickering between the girls. Just perfect!
Advice
If you are a believer, pray, if nothing else, it creates a calming effect.
If you can't fight the fight for you, fight it for someone else, it helps bridge the gaps.
Learn to push yourself even when you don't want to, you soon find you don't have to push so hard, or even at times, at all.
Be grateful for every morsel of good.
Chapter 15 - My School Year Begins Fall 2003
Chapter 15 - My school year begins Fall 2003
The kids are back in school and it is my first day of the fall semester. I walk into my Group Exercise class and meet the eyes of my classmates, some are recognizable; some are not. Most of them are young, but a few are older. I'm scared and shaking in my tennis shoes for fear of the unknown. My head scarf feels like a bright beacon of light. I pull my shoulders back and make my way to an empty seat and greet everyone with a smile and hello.
I summon up the courage to pull off a look of normalcy and act as though nothing is wrong and everything is in place. This behavior puts my classmates at ease. Some of them have heard about my condition from the teacher. The school I attend is small and it feels like a family. The Instructors are all very nice and caring. When asked, I tell everyone that I'm doing well. And really, other than the side effects, I am. If I weren't feeling well, I'd probably lie and say I was fine. Both classes were filled with lectures and doing paperwork so no physical activity today. At least I got the initial class over with. Now I can relax and just do the best I can.
School, for me, is a welcome diversion. My husband is working and the kids are at school. If I didn't have to go to school I'd have too much idle time with thoughts of my illness running through my head. If I didn't have somewhere to go I'd be tempted to go back to bed. Another key to survival, staying occupied with work, school, volunteering, anything that takes your focus away from your illness; anything that gets you out of the house. I'll push myself more in front of a crowd than I would by myself probably because I care so much about my image. A schedule and some structure is a life saver for me.
Alex's Freshman Volleyball Team needs a parent to volunteer to makes lunches for away games. The job consists of collecting money from the parents and making the meals for the girls. I put a lot of effort into making the food. I want Alex to be proud of what her Mother does for her and her teammates. I cherish every opportunity I have to do something for my kids. Right now they are my key to survival. I get such pleasure out of doing things for them. Take yourself out of your own thoughts and fears and concentrate on the things that give you satisfaction, another key to survival.
I've heard many people say that when they were given a death sentence, they wanted to do something they had never done before. Travel the world, jump out of an airplane, meet some celebrity, or just be challenged in a way that they never had before. I have no desire to do any of that.
My wish is to keep my life as normal as possible. Cherish the moments I get to watch Frankie at gymnastics, or Katie and Alex playing volleyball. Those times fill my life with joy. I even look forward to helping my youngest with her homework. Now that's a challenge, since homework isn't her favorite subject! But it is important time that I get to spend with her.
You'd be surprised at how your life can change on a dime when you get life threatening news. You'd also be surprised at how easy it is to change in those circumstances. I'm not sure how much I've changed in regard to material possessions, I've always known that they can't make you happy, or if they do, it’s a fleeting moment. My relationships with my family and friends are the only things that give me meaning now. When I received the news of my illness I didn't think about the size of my home or the kind of car I drive, I wondered what kind of Mom, wife, sister, daughter or friend have I been.
Improving my relationship with me is another item on my agenda. I need to take better care of Kristy and her feelings. I tend to put other people first. My self esteem isn't as high as it should be. Self deprecation has accompanied me my whole life. I never wanted people to think I was full of myself or boastful, so I put myself down. Being sick has helped me work on those character blemishes.
My education and the kids sporting events have made the fall fly by. The Elementary, Jr. High and High School Volleyball season is coming to an end. All three of my girls play volleyball for their schools. We are at volleyball games at least four times a week. If we are not at games we are driving to and from practices. Frankie not only does volleyball, she has gymnastics practice three times a week. Throw in a little school and homework and you have a recipe for busy lives. The routine keeps us physically busy and our minds occupied. Our schedule doesn't leave time to think about our reality, which is o.k. for now.
Advice
Face your fears, keep your head held high and do what you need to do. The looks people give you when sporting a scarf are most often looks of compassion.
Stay as busy as your health will allow, not to pretend that your illness isn't happening, but to take your mind away from your illness for a little while.
Concentrate on things that bring you satisfaction.
If you want to do something you've never done before, do it, do whatever you feel is going to make you happy.
The kids are back in school and it is my first day of the fall semester. I walk into my Group Exercise class and meet the eyes of my classmates, some are recognizable; some are not. Most of them are young, but a few are older. I'm scared and shaking in my tennis shoes for fear of the unknown. My head scarf feels like a bright beacon of light. I pull my shoulders back and make my way to an empty seat and greet everyone with a smile and hello.
I summon up the courage to pull off a look of normalcy and act as though nothing is wrong and everything is in place. This behavior puts my classmates at ease. Some of them have heard about my condition from the teacher. The school I attend is small and it feels like a family. The Instructors are all very nice and caring. When asked, I tell everyone that I'm doing well. And really, other than the side effects, I am. If I weren't feeling well, I'd probably lie and say I was fine. Both classes were filled with lectures and doing paperwork so no physical activity today. At least I got the initial class over with. Now I can relax and just do the best I can.
School, for me, is a welcome diversion. My husband is working and the kids are at school. If I didn't have to go to school I'd have too much idle time with thoughts of my illness running through my head. If I didn't have somewhere to go I'd be tempted to go back to bed. Another key to survival, staying occupied with work, school, volunteering, anything that takes your focus away from your illness; anything that gets you out of the house. I'll push myself more in front of a crowd than I would by myself probably because I care so much about my image. A schedule and some structure is a life saver for me.
Alex's Freshman Volleyball Team needs a parent to volunteer to makes lunches for away games. The job consists of collecting money from the parents and making the meals for the girls. I put a lot of effort into making the food. I want Alex to be proud of what her Mother does for her and her teammates. I cherish every opportunity I have to do something for my kids. Right now they are my key to survival. I get such pleasure out of doing things for them. Take yourself out of your own thoughts and fears and concentrate on the things that give you satisfaction, another key to survival.
I've heard many people say that when they were given a death sentence, they wanted to do something they had never done before. Travel the world, jump out of an airplane, meet some celebrity, or just be challenged in a way that they never had before. I have no desire to do any of that.
My wish is to keep my life as normal as possible. Cherish the moments I get to watch Frankie at gymnastics, or Katie and Alex playing volleyball. Those times fill my life with joy. I even look forward to helping my youngest with her homework. Now that's a challenge, since homework isn't her favorite subject! But it is important time that I get to spend with her.
You'd be surprised at how your life can change on a dime when you get life threatening news. You'd also be surprised at how easy it is to change in those circumstances. I'm not sure how much I've changed in regard to material possessions, I've always known that they can't make you happy, or if they do, it’s a fleeting moment. My relationships with my family and friends are the only things that give me meaning now. When I received the news of my illness I didn't think about the size of my home or the kind of car I drive, I wondered what kind of Mom, wife, sister, daughter or friend have I been.
Improving my relationship with me is another item on my agenda. I need to take better care of Kristy and her feelings. I tend to put other people first. My self esteem isn't as high as it should be. Self deprecation has accompanied me my whole life. I never wanted people to think I was full of myself or boastful, so I put myself down. Being sick has helped me work on those character blemishes.
My education and the kids sporting events have made the fall fly by. The Elementary, Jr. High and High School Volleyball season is coming to an end. All three of my girls play volleyball for their schools. We are at volleyball games at least four times a week. If we are not at games we are driving to and from practices. Frankie not only does volleyball, she has gymnastics practice three times a week. Throw in a little school and homework and you have a recipe for busy lives. The routine keeps us physically busy and our minds occupied. Our schedule doesn't leave time to think about our reality, which is o.k. for now.
Advice
Face your fears, keep your head held high and do what you need to do. The looks people give you when sporting a scarf are most often looks of compassion.
Stay as busy as your health will allow, not to pretend that your illness isn't happening, but to take your mind away from your illness for a little while.
Concentrate on things that bring you satisfaction.
If you want to do something you've never done before, do it, do whatever you feel is going to make you happy.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Chapter 14 - August 2003 -The School Year Begins
Chapter 14 - August 2003 - The School Year Begins
We have yet to go school shopping, a tradition my children love. They like buying backpacks, shoes, socks; you name it, if it's new they like it, even school uniforms.
This year Alex will be a freshman in High School, Katie will be in seventh grade, the Junior High years, and Frankie will be in the fourth grade. Living with the fear of losing a parent isn't something these young kids should have to think about. They have grown-up a lot over the past few months. Alex tried out for the freshman volleyball team and made it. She felt guilty because she prayed to make the team when in her mind she should have prayed for me to get well. I told her that one prayer doesn't cancel out the other.
My illness has changed all of my kids. Alex deals with it by trying to be as good as she can. Katie doesn't like to think about it or talk about it; she has begun to keep her feelings even closer to her vest, because what she feels just hurts too much. And Frankie clings to me like glue for fear of losing me. This illness will be paramount in shaping their lives. Alex carries the fear that she'll have to be mother to her two younger siblings, Katie, thinking she's the strongest one, also feels like she is going to have to be the rock for everyone if something happens to me. And Frankie is already showing signs of separation anxiety. I pray that I can be here long enough to raise them.
School starts in a few days for me as well. I have been working on an Associates of Applied Science Degree. I have just two classes left; one of them is a group exercise class which means it will be a physical class. I'm fearful about my energy level because of chemo and my ability to participate in the class, but I want this degree whether I use it or not. I've resolved myself to just doing it.
At the beginning of a school year there has always been excitement in the air, whether for me or for my children. It is the start of something fresh. I like schedules, and organization, school or work fit that bill. As a child I didn't see many friends over the summer so the new school year meant seeing old friends and perhaps meeting new ones. The end of summer soon leads to the beginning of the fall with football games, crisp sunny weather and leaves turning all sorts of beautiful, brilliant colors. This time of year brings back many wonderful memories for me. Now I wonder how many more times I will witness the fall of a year or see my kids off to school. My daily prayer starts with the request to get them all graduated from high school. I know I say that a lot, but in my opinion you have to state what you want over and over and over again and keep it in the forefront of your mind to realize it.
Today we have a mandatory parent, back to school meeting. I'm feeling apprehensive about going because of the scarf I'm wearing. I feel conspicuous. People stare at me in sadness or shock or in confusion about what to say and do. I still have the $1,000 wig from my original Breast Cancer, but it is hot, uncomfortable and awkward to wear. I wore it about ten times because it is adhered to the head with double stick tape which created a hassle when putting it on, and when you sweat there is nothing to stop the perspiration so it drips down your forehead. Not to mention, I look like Joan Collins on a bad day in it.
Harm is not meant by the stares, it's just unusual to see someone in a scarf. When I meet a person's staring eyes they quickly look away. Generally, I try to make people feel comfortable around me by pointing out the obvious, or making a joke, but that behavior, even though it is all me, is tiring and I don't have the energy. I continually try not to care so much about what others may or may not think of me.
Losing one's hair through chemo is one of the many difficult aspects of this disease. Your hair frames your face. It has a personality of its own. Eyebrows and eyelashes also come in handy to complete your look. When you don't have these things people know immediately that you are sick. It is hard to hide behind the "look" of chemo. However, I do try with make-up. The other day I was putting on mascara but my lids kept getting black. I looked closer in the mirror and realized I only had one eyelash left. I decided to spruce it up with a little mascara. If I ever write a book I may title it; I had one eyelash left, but it still had mascara on it. Remember, humor is a necessary ingredient to my survival.
Chemo can save your life so you put up with it. Some chemo is worse than others. My current chemo is the most difficult to date. As I've stated, food has lost its taste. The Macrobiotic diet is gone and has been replaced by Ramon Noodles, baby food and Swiss Miss Pudding, the only things that my mouth, full of sores, can tolerate.
My weight loss is getting more noticeable. I look like a refugee from a concentration camp. Forcing myself to eat is a daily grind and I can only eat until my hunger is somewhat satisfied, partly because it is a painful process and partly because I have try to maintain my weight. This convinces me that eating, dieting, having to eat, is all a mind game. When I was young and overweight, trying to diet, all I could think about was food and how much I wanted it. Now, I know I have to eat to keep my weight up and it is the last thing I want to do.
When I had the original breast cancer I knew I would be on chemo for a short period of time. My Doctor is telling me now that I'll probably be on some form of chemo for the rest of my life. Is this how I'm going to feel all the time? If so, my life's quality will be diminished. This is the time that I need to get my mind around how to survive. It is much more difficult to fight for your life when you feel like crap most of the time, so right now I'm doing it for my loved ones.
My first thought is to live for my children and husband. If I can stay alive for them, I'll eventually be able to stay alive for me, I'll find a way. I keep the thought in my mind that there are other chemo therapies out there. There are advances in medicine all of the time. If this one gets too bad, I'll try another. There is always hope.
Keeping my head held high, whether I feel like it or not, is imperative to me. Everyone around me feels more confident about my survival, which puts them at ease and it makes me feel better as well. Being strong in this fight is not just a show for my loved ones. A thought is a precursor to an action. Therefore, positive, strong thoughts create positive, confident actions. This is my motto.
Today I have another round of chemo and an appointment with my Oncologist. We discuss the less than positive side effects of the drugs. He tells me that I need to stay on the chemo as long as it shrinks the tumor, if it stops doing that, he'll put me on a hormone therapy. In addition to my mouth sores, my nails are separating from their beds and they smell, really bad. I told one of my sisters that my nails were dying and she informed me that nails are already dead. I told her that they were deader now. My eyes are also watering constantly so I have to bring my fingers with my dead, stinky nails to my eyes to dab them with a Kleenex. So Gross!
The only good thing I found from this condition was getting out of a moving violation from my friendly neighborhood Police Officer. I was in a hurry and little lost. In my confusion, I didn't make a complete stop at a stop sign. He pulled me over, he was a young fellow, and slowly walked up to my van. When he got to my window, he took one look at my scarf, my watering eyes and my dead nails, got a look of shock and pity on his face, and said, "miss, are you aware that you made a rolling stop back there at that stop sign?" I replied, "I realized it when I saw you driving after me." He told me, in an, oh so polite manner, to be more careful next time and sent me on my way. Chalk one up for the cancer card.
Advice
A serious illness will change the dynamics of a family; do the best that you can to acknowledge this by keeping all lines of communication and love open, this will help.
Chemo is a tough pill to swallow, realize that there are different medicines out there that may be better suited for you. Talk with your Doctor.
Hold onto anything positive that you can to get you through the roughest patches. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel.
Find the humor in your situation because it is there. It all depends upon how you look at things.
We have yet to go school shopping, a tradition my children love. They like buying backpacks, shoes, socks; you name it, if it's new they like it, even school uniforms.
This year Alex will be a freshman in High School, Katie will be in seventh grade, the Junior High years, and Frankie will be in the fourth grade. Living with the fear of losing a parent isn't something these young kids should have to think about. They have grown-up a lot over the past few months. Alex tried out for the freshman volleyball team and made it. She felt guilty because she prayed to make the team when in her mind she should have prayed for me to get well. I told her that one prayer doesn't cancel out the other.
My illness has changed all of my kids. Alex deals with it by trying to be as good as she can. Katie doesn't like to think about it or talk about it; she has begun to keep her feelings even closer to her vest, because what she feels just hurts too much. And Frankie clings to me like glue for fear of losing me. This illness will be paramount in shaping their lives. Alex carries the fear that she'll have to be mother to her two younger siblings, Katie, thinking she's the strongest one, also feels like she is going to have to be the rock for everyone if something happens to me. And Frankie is already showing signs of separation anxiety. I pray that I can be here long enough to raise them.
School starts in a few days for me as well. I have been working on an Associates of Applied Science Degree. I have just two classes left; one of them is a group exercise class which means it will be a physical class. I'm fearful about my energy level because of chemo and my ability to participate in the class, but I want this degree whether I use it or not. I've resolved myself to just doing it.
At the beginning of a school year there has always been excitement in the air, whether for me or for my children. It is the start of something fresh. I like schedules, and organization, school or work fit that bill. As a child I didn't see many friends over the summer so the new school year meant seeing old friends and perhaps meeting new ones. The end of summer soon leads to the beginning of the fall with football games, crisp sunny weather and leaves turning all sorts of beautiful, brilliant colors. This time of year brings back many wonderful memories for me. Now I wonder how many more times I will witness the fall of a year or see my kids off to school. My daily prayer starts with the request to get them all graduated from high school. I know I say that a lot, but in my opinion you have to state what you want over and over and over again and keep it in the forefront of your mind to realize it.
Today we have a mandatory parent, back to school meeting. I'm feeling apprehensive about going because of the scarf I'm wearing. I feel conspicuous. People stare at me in sadness or shock or in confusion about what to say and do. I still have the $1,000 wig from my original Breast Cancer, but it is hot, uncomfortable and awkward to wear. I wore it about ten times because it is adhered to the head with double stick tape which created a hassle when putting it on, and when you sweat there is nothing to stop the perspiration so it drips down your forehead. Not to mention, I look like Joan Collins on a bad day in it.
Harm is not meant by the stares, it's just unusual to see someone in a scarf. When I meet a person's staring eyes they quickly look away. Generally, I try to make people feel comfortable around me by pointing out the obvious, or making a joke, but that behavior, even though it is all me, is tiring and I don't have the energy. I continually try not to care so much about what others may or may not think of me.
Losing one's hair through chemo is one of the many difficult aspects of this disease. Your hair frames your face. It has a personality of its own. Eyebrows and eyelashes also come in handy to complete your look. When you don't have these things people know immediately that you are sick. It is hard to hide behind the "look" of chemo. However, I do try with make-up. The other day I was putting on mascara but my lids kept getting black. I looked closer in the mirror and realized I only had one eyelash left. I decided to spruce it up with a little mascara. If I ever write a book I may title it; I had one eyelash left, but it still had mascara on it. Remember, humor is a necessary ingredient to my survival.
Chemo can save your life so you put up with it. Some chemo is worse than others. My current chemo is the most difficult to date. As I've stated, food has lost its taste. The Macrobiotic diet is gone and has been replaced by Ramon Noodles, baby food and Swiss Miss Pudding, the only things that my mouth, full of sores, can tolerate.
My weight loss is getting more noticeable. I look like a refugee from a concentration camp. Forcing myself to eat is a daily grind and I can only eat until my hunger is somewhat satisfied, partly because it is a painful process and partly because I have try to maintain my weight. This convinces me that eating, dieting, having to eat, is all a mind game. When I was young and overweight, trying to diet, all I could think about was food and how much I wanted it. Now, I know I have to eat to keep my weight up and it is the last thing I want to do.
When I had the original breast cancer I knew I would be on chemo for a short period of time. My Doctor is telling me now that I'll probably be on some form of chemo for the rest of my life. Is this how I'm going to feel all the time? If so, my life's quality will be diminished. This is the time that I need to get my mind around how to survive. It is much more difficult to fight for your life when you feel like crap most of the time, so right now I'm doing it for my loved ones.
My first thought is to live for my children and husband. If I can stay alive for them, I'll eventually be able to stay alive for me, I'll find a way. I keep the thought in my mind that there are other chemo therapies out there. There are advances in medicine all of the time. If this one gets too bad, I'll try another. There is always hope.
Keeping my head held high, whether I feel like it or not, is imperative to me. Everyone around me feels more confident about my survival, which puts them at ease and it makes me feel better as well. Being strong in this fight is not just a show for my loved ones. A thought is a precursor to an action. Therefore, positive, strong thoughts create positive, confident actions. This is my motto.
Today I have another round of chemo and an appointment with my Oncologist. We discuss the less than positive side effects of the drugs. He tells me that I need to stay on the chemo as long as it shrinks the tumor, if it stops doing that, he'll put me on a hormone therapy. In addition to my mouth sores, my nails are separating from their beds and they smell, really bad. I told one of my sisters that my nails were dying and she informed me that nails are already dead. I told her that they were deader now. My eyes are also watering constantly so I have to bring my fingers with my dead, stinky nails to my eyes to dab them with a Kleenex. So Gross!
The only good thing I found from this condition was getting out of a moving violation from my friendly neighborhood Police Officer. I was in a hurry and little lost. In my confusion, I didn't make a complete stop at a stop sign. He pulled me over, he was a young fellow, and slowly walked up to my van. When he got to my window, he took one look at my scarf, my watering eyes and my dead nails, got a look of shock and pity on his face, and said, "miss, are you aware that you made a rolling stop back there at that stop sign?" I replied, "I realized it when I saw you driving after me." He told me, in an, oh so polite manner, to be more careful next time and sent me on my way. Chalk one up for the cancer card.
Advice
A serious illness will change the dynamics of a family; do the best that you can to acknowledge this by keeping all lines of communication and love open, this will help.
Chemo is a tough pill to swallow, realize that there are different medicines out there that may be better suited for you. Talk with your Doctor.
Hold onto anything positive that you can to get you through the roughest patches. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel.
Find the humor in your situation because it is there. It all depends upon how you look at things.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Chapter 13 The Greywitt's Arrive, The Last Visitors of the Summer
Chapter 13 The Greywitts's Arrive, the Last Visitors of the Summer
Angie and I, out of all my siblings, lead the most similar lives. We both married over achievers with a little perfectionist on the side. They can be somewhat obsessive about things like the yard, cars, shoveling, the house, you name it, whatever it is, it has done just right. Because of this, there is a bit of yelling that goes on around our homes, wanting things done in a particular way creates a lot of work and sometimes, tension. Angie and I share a similar sense of humor, we are amused by the same type of antics, we are more comfortable with organization than we are with disarray, we love to laugh and we like to be in shape, she is a runner and I like strength conditioning. The Greywitt family is made up of all boys, two are Angie's biological sons and two are her step sons. Their boys are handsome with an extremely quick wit, as well as amusing. Alex, Katie and Frankie love interacting with them, whether it be laughing, playing or fighting. When we go to Minnesota for a visit, the excitement is palpable but after a few days they start to fight, just like siblings.
Angie was willing to take charge the moment she stepped in the door, but they had just made a twelve hour trip and were tired. We hugged, cried, relaxed, visited during a nice dinner, and then she got to work cleaning up the kitchen with Mike and Rico. The next day, there was laundry to be done, breakfast, lunch and dinner to be made, dishes to be washed and she tried to do it all. Her husband Rico is not one to let any grass grow under his feet so he was also busy doing whatever he could to help. The kids were satisfied to be entertained by Michael, Rico's youngest son from his first, marriage who is an exact replica of Jim Kerry, he looks a little like him and can copy his jokes and mannerisms to hysterical perfection. Sean and Charlie, Angie's youngest sons join in on the joking until the house is roaring with laughter. Laughter is such a beautiful gift at this time, it makes your troubles disappear for the moment. This is a time to be grateful and cherish.
I was due to have my third chemo treatment during Angie's visit. Accompanying me to the clinic was not an easy feat for her because she is uncomfortable with hospitals, clinics, any type of medical facility or procedure. Angie faints at the drop of the hat. She takes a look at a cut or blood and she hits the floor faster than I can eat a meal when I'm starved. There are a number of stories I could tell about Angie fainting at a Dr. visit, but one in particular, she went to the hospital when her step son Ricky crashed on his bike, he did some major damage to his nose and mouth, he was bleeding and in rough shape. She apprehensively walked into the exam room with Rico and Ricky, the Dr. arrived said a few words, started looking at the damage done to Ricky's face and Angie went down before the words, "I'm going to faint, " finished coming out. She is a trooper for trying.
I went in to get my blood drawn before chemo and to get my port accessed. They draw your blood prior to chemo to make sure that your counts are high enough to be able to have the drug administered. The Technician sticks a needle into your port, it's like an IV, but much easier than trying to find a vein, and tapes it up so it will stay during chemo. When Angie witnessed this she got a little queasy and couldn't look at it, but she didn't faint. We had a good day at chemo. When we arrived home everyone pitched in to make dinner while I rested. After dinner we retired to the family room for a movie and then we all went to bed.
It is Wednesday, another healing mass awaits me. Angie is a spiritual person and she attends a non denominational church so she has an open mind about God and healings, etc., she just isn't a Catholic any longer. The two of us ventured out for my fourth and last healing from the Sister Monica. We sat behind an elderly woman who had a severe gas problem. Every two minutes she farted loud and clear. This made it quite difficult to concentrate at the task at hand, improving my health. First it was, "Oh, the poor lady," then it was, rolling eyes with an, I can't take this look, then it was, " Oh my God it stinks in here," until finally it became hands over the face in prayer position dropped head, muffled laughter. It reminded me of what it was like going to mass with my siblings. There would be anywhere from eight to twelve of us sitting in a pew and someone would do something to make us all giggle. We could barely contain our laughter and then one of us would bust out and unfortunately get the attention of other parishioners as well as our parents, and get in trouble. We were always in trouble at mass.
Needless to say, I didn't get much out of the last healing, other than joyous camaraderie with my little sister, as I've called her all my life. I refer back to the little Irishman, who said that you really have to believe that each healing will help you and you have to take it seriously, as well as come often. I don't think I was in the right frame of mind going into the last three healings. I believe that becoming well takes a certain mind set. You truly have to focus in on what you want and need, and you have to believe it can happen for you. Sitting next to a farting machine is a bit distracting, at least for me. I've decided to stop going to the healing. I might return someday when I have more faith.
Angie and her family left today. We were sad to see them go, but the summer will be over soon and it is time for the kids to get ready to go back to school. Our lives need to get back to a normal, steady pace.
Advice
Enjoy your relationships one at a time If you have many family members or friends. Have them spread their visits out. Spend one on one meaningful time with them when you feel up to it. Don't have people come over when you are not well, if it's too taxing on you.
If you have extended stay visitors, let them help you, that is why they are there. Don't feel guilty about lying down when you've had too much.
Laugh, Laugh, Laugh! Laughter is extremely healing do it as often as you can. Find the humor in life cause there is so much of it.
Angie and I, out of all my siblings, lead the most similar lives. We both married over achievers with a little perfectionist on the side. They can be somewhat obsessive about things like the yard, cars, shoveling, the house, you name it, whatever it is, it has done just right. Because of this, there is a bit of yelling that goes on around our homes, wanting things done in a particular way creates a lot of work and sometimes, tension. Angie and I share a similar sense of humor, we are amused by the same type of antics, we are more comfortable with organization than we are with disarray, we love to laugh and we like to be in shape, she is a runner and I like strength conditioning. The Greywitt family is made up of all boys, two are Angie's biological sons and two are her step sons. Their boys are handsome with an extremely quick wit, as well as amusing. Alex, Katie and Frankie love interacting with them, whether it be laughing, playing or fighting. When we go to Minnesota for a visit, the excitement is palpable but after a few days they start to fight, just like siblings.
Angie was willing to take charge the moment she stepped in the door, but they had just made a twelve hour trip and were tired. We hugged, cried, relaxed, visited during a nice dinner, and then she got to work cleaning up the kitchen with Mike and Rico. The next day, there was laundry to be done, breakfast, lunch and dinner to be made, dishes to be washed and she tried to do it all. Her husband Rico is not one to let any grass grow under his feet so he was also busy doing whatever he could to help. The kids were satisfied to be entertained by Michael, Rico's youngest son from his first, marriage who is an exact replica of Jim Kerry, he looks a little like him and can copy his jokes and mannerisms to hysterical perfection. Sean and Charlie, Angie's youngest sons join in on the joking until the house is roaring with laughter. Laughter is such a beautiful gift at this time, it makes your troubles disappear for the moment. This is a time to be grateful and cherish.
I was due to have my third chemo treatment during Angie's visit. Accompanying me to the clinic was not an easy feat for her because she is uncomfortable with hospitals, clinics, any type of medical facility or procedure. Angie faints at the drop of the hat. She takes a look at a cut or blood and she hits the floor faster than I can eat a meal when I'm starved. There are a number of stories I could tell about Angie fainting at a Dr. visit, but one in particular, she went to the hospital when her step son Ricky crashed on his bike, he did some major damage to his nose and mouth, he was bleeding and in rough shape. She apprehensively walked into the exam room with Rico and Ricky, the Dr. arrived said a few words, started looking at the damage done to Ricky's face and Angie went down before the words, "I'm going to faint, " finished coming out. She is a trooper for trying.
I went in to get my blood drawn before chemo and to get my port accessed. They draw your blood prior to chemo to make sure that your counts are high enough to be able to have the drug administered. The Technician sticks a needle into your port, it's like an IV, but much easier than trying to find a vein, and tapes it up so it will stay during chemo. When Angie witnessed this she got a little queasy and couldn't look at it, but she didn't faint. We had a good day at chemo. When we arrived home everyone pitched in to make dinner while I rested. After dinner we retired to the family room for a movie and then we all went to bed.
It is Wednesday, another healing mass awaits me. Angie is a spiritual person and she attends a non denominational church so she has an open mind about God and healings, etc., she just isn't a Catholic any longer. The two of us ventured out for my fourth and last healing from the Sister Monica. We sat behind an elderly woman who had a severe gas problem. Every two minutes she farted loud and clear. This made it quite difficult to concentrate at the task at hand, improving my health. First it was, "Oh, the poor lady," then it was, rolling eyes with an, I can't take this look, then it was, " Oh my God it stinks in here," until finally it became hands over the face in prayer position dropped head, muffled laughter. It reminded me of what it was like going to mass with my siblings. There would be anywhere from eight to twelve of us sitting in a pew and someone would do something to make us all giggle. We could barely contain our laughter and then one of us would bust out and unfortunately get the attention of other parishioners as well as our parents, and get in trouble. We were always in trouble at mass.
Needless to say, I didn't get much out of the last healing, other than joyous camaraderie with my little sister, as I've called her all my life. I refer back to the little Irishman, who said that you really have to believe that each healing will help you and you have to take it seriously, as well as come often. I don't think I was in the right frame of mind going into the last three healings. I believe that becoming well takes a certain mind set. You truly have to focus in on what you want and need, and you have to believe it can happen for you. Sitting next to a farting machine is a bit distracting, at least for me. I've decided to stop going to the healing. I might return someday when I have more faith.
Angie and her family left today. We were sad to see them go, but the summer will be over soon and it is time for the kids to get ready to go back to school. Our lives need to get back to a normal, steady pace.
Advice
Enjoy your relationships one at a time If you have many family members or friends. Have them spread their visits out. Spend one on one meaningful time with them when you feel up to it. Don't have people come over when you are not well, if it's too taxing on you.
If you have extended stay visitors, let them help you, that is why they are there. Don't feel guilty about lying down when you've had too much.
Laugh, Laugh, Laugh! Laughter is extremely healing do it as often as you can. Find the humor in life cause there is so much of it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)