Taking fanny for a walk

Me and my fanny

• Appointment with Dr. T and treatment at Siteman South County

As expected, today was a short day at the cancer center. I'm going home with my 5-FU fanny pack for the next two days and I had a 30 minute infusion of Avastin. I haven't had it since before my surgery since it can affect healing. We discussed it with Dr. T today and the research is really inconclusive. Short term studies seem to show effectiveness but longer studies of 3-4 years seem to show no difference.

We talked about the Undy Run and Dr. T thinks I should patent our team name and slogan, he really likes it. Kickin It - showing a red card to cancer. I don't disagree! Team Kickin It is pretty awesome.

Change is hard

• Appointment with Dr. K at the Siteman Counseling Center at BB

When I changed from Mercy to Siteman in December, it was hard. Changing to a new psychologist was hard. And finding out this afternoon that this new psychologist is leaving at the end of next month brought me to tears.

Taking it (s)low

• Bloodwork at Siteman West County

The results are in and my numbers are too low for FOLFOX tomorrow. I spoke with a nurse from Dr. T's office, we're keeping my appointment for tomorrow and I am going to have a reduced treatment. No oxaliplatin for sure.

Kickin It

I am awesome

Me and my I am awesome socks played soccer tonight for the first time since last June. It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable but worth it.

More waiting

• Bloodwork at Siteman West County

It's official, no treatment tomorrow. Another week of Neupogen shots to try and help my wbcs recover. Disappointed. Without these delays, tomorrow would have been FOLFOX #12. Instead, we wait another week to try for #11.

The moment before

Right after I was diagnosed with cancer last June, I heard all kinds of things. One of most memorable was during a visit with a friend of a friend who just happened to have done the Ironman in Hawaii the year after a very similar diagnosis. As in, she was training, for the Ironman, through her chemo and radiation treatments. Amazing. Anyway, we agreed to meet for the first time on a sunny July Sunday morning, one of us in a walking daze and the other still sweating from a morning bike ride. And go figure, the pastry place was closed. Nobody around here likes pastries on Sundays? So we just plopped ourselves down in their outside seating and started talking, like we'd known each other our whole lives. I shared things with her that I hadn't been able to share with anybody else yet. She said to me, "you can never go back to that moment right before you knew." It seemed all at once to be a simple statement of fact and very powerful. That moment right before I found out that I had stage IV colon cancer at 38 was the loss of my freedom from worry. Sure I had "problems" that I was worried about, I was getting married in two months, what color were the table cloths going to be? But now I had THE problem, the life-altering, future-changing problem of advanced cancer. And it sucked. Even in my most care free moments now, it's there. Just hanging out.

The crazy thing is that if I could go back to that time, just before, what would I even tell myself? Would I have done something differently? Gone to Paris the weekend before? Filled myself with Hacienda margaritas? Played soccer at the park with friends every day from dawn until dusk? Nothing can prepare you for that kind of moment or make you feel like you're ready. Nobody says to cancer, "bring it on!"

When I met with my psychologist last week, I was telling her that I was thinking about making a list of all of the not exactly appropriate questions that people have asked me recently and she was all for it. That is one of the reasons that there are SO many books out there written by cancer patients. You find yourself in all kinds of awkward situations and you can't help but want to share your stories. It also got me thinking about the meaningful messages, and about that moment before. For me, I'm trying my best to keep my brain focused on each moment going forward. (But it still sucks.)

Cha-ching

I got paid today from Wash U! I'd completely forgotten that one of the clinical trials during my surgery was going to pay me! Lookout, I've got $165 to do something fun... what to do, what to do.

Medal of Hope

Today was the first of four Neupogen shots scheduled before my next treatment. When I walked into the cancer center I ran right into Teri. She was there with a friend to give one of her medals to a patient receiving treatment today. She invited me to go back with them... and I can see myself doing something like that in the future, but maybe today wasn't the right day. I'm not feeling good and although I held it together and didn't cry, I didn't really add anything to the conversation. But, someday.

Let's do this

• Appointment with Dr. T and FOLFOX #10

My neutrophils are up, but only to the lowest possibly number that allows me to have treatment. Dr. T is reducing my treatment today, although he reassures us that it does not reduce the effectiveness. Yesterday's ct shows no signs of metastatic disease, a welcomed positive sign in this craziness, but we're still a long way from cartwheels.

Today is another slow chemo day to avoid a reaction and it is 6 p.m. by the time we leave for home.

Mindfulness practice

So to be fair, I signed up for this class before I knew that today was going to be a day full of other appointments. But I still wanted to go. The class is titled Mindfulness-Managing Stress with Present Moment Awareness. It took place at the Cancer Support Community office and I enjoyed it for the most part. Sometimes though, you just don't connect with somebody the right way, and that's how I felt about the instructor. I just didn't connect with her in a way that made me feel comfortable sharing what I would want to share in this type of situation. And part of that has to do with the fact that I stayed after the mindfulness class for her colon cancer support group. I did see that support group listed on the calendar for tonight, but the subject listed specifically for tonight didn't apply to me AND I'm not really a support group kind of person. What I'm trying to say is that I had ZERO intentions of staying. It turns out that the support group is usually just one other lady, and she joined us about 15 minutes late. I just didn't connect to them, it's that simple. And it has just been a super long day.

Hello friend

• CT scan

Is it a good sign or a bad sign when the CT tech recognizes you from previous visits? Today's scan was super fast, one quick trip in each direction and I'm done.

A brunchless brunch

I met Teri and a group of her survivor friends for brunch today. With a CT scheduled for 1:45, I couldn't do any actual brunching, but it was good to meet more inspiring ladies and to continue growing my hope that I can keep living through all of this. 

Just what I needed this morning

• Appointment with Dr. K at the Siteman Counseling Center (West co)

I'm came into today's appointment feeling kind of beat down, but I left feeling more positive. Dr. K reminded me that I am DOING this. And she thinks that I am doing it well.

Unexpected pink coyote sighting

• Lab work at Siteman West County

The waiting room is crowded this morning and I find a seat on the far side with my back to the entryway back to the lab. I hear my name, pop up and turn around and start walking towards....... Carla?

Ut oh. "Hi? Carla?" You know when you see people out of context and sometimes it takes a few minutes to put it all together. Well it only look a second. I've known Carla for probably 6-7 years and it's from playing soccer (usually) against her. She's always been super nice to me and Hector both and I like her a lot, regardless of the fact that she plays goalie for our Thursday night "rivals". I don't think rivals is really the right word to set the scene, based on the years of battles and not-so-friendly exchanges between my teammates and hers. But we'll go with rivals for now.

Clearly my cancer diagnosis is news to Carla and after she accesses my port and draws today's blood samples, we talk for a minute and I'm out the door of the lab. As I'm walking out, I can hear her start to talk to her co-workers "I play soccer...", and I'm out.

Colon cancer awareness dress in blue day

Rough day for this guy

I've never claimed to have a green thumb but we actually have a plant-care company that comes into work to take of these guys. Maybe he just missed me.

NOTE: Within 30 minutes of watering/my arrival, he was much happier.

The Starfish Story

Here we go again

• Appointment with Dr. T

Let's face it. The last round was tough, I had more side effects than I had any time before and I felt bad, really bad for longer than I would have liked. But today is a new day, and .......

Time out. My body is trying to tell us something. My blood counts have not recovered from treatment two weeks ago and today is a no-go. The cumulative effect of the treatments is catching up with me, even with my surgical break. I think I can see my tiny white blood cells waving tiny white flags. Even though I've already had three Neupogen shots in the past week, the little guys need more help. I'll have three more shots this week and we'll try again next Tuesday.