Let me start by saying thanks to all who expressed their sympathies about little P. We are all still adjusting. While I usually quite practical about these sorts of things his death has caused me a lot of sadness. I cried a lot. I realised I was not just crying for Peanut, I was crying for me. I had not really done that. Gone there. His death was the catalyst I needed to let myself cry for myself. I was not having a pity party but I realised there were a lot of emotions all caught up in there. Sometimes as Moms we put on a pretty tough front - this gave me an permission to lower my defences.
I wrote the post the night we said goodbye and the following morning the vet called with some follow up - some pathology results had come back. You can imagine my surprise when the vet told us that Peanut had a very aggressive form of Lymphoma. Even if we had of caught it earlier there would have been nothing we could have done for him. I asked how long he had it and the vet's estimation was right about when the doctors figured mine started as well. Strange. Two ways to look at it I guess; either we both got into something (although in humans at least Lymphoma is a hard one to pin down) or as I prefer; Peanut took one for the team. My little cancer angel - we will know soon enough as we are about to get a whole lot more information.
We have passed the half way mark. (treatment three) and this Friday will mark my 4th chemo. Not only are we on the home stretch but after #4 there is a change in procedure. I get information. Much of this process has been one of hope - hope that the chemo is working, hope that we are doing the right thing, that I have the right chemo cocktail. We are about to find out. After this Friday's treatment and recovery in the following weeks I will go in for both a CT scan and a PET scan. These will determine the status of my treatment and help to identify how much cancer is left and how successful chemo has been up until this point. The good news is that 75% of people at this stage have had great success. The odds are in my favour. IF everything is going along as it should then I have chemo # 5 and 6 as planned, same cocktail. If I am in the 25% that the tumour is not shrinking as it should then we have to mix things up a bit. Change my chemo to a new type (called RICE) and add on a couple of sessions - so I will have RICE #5-8. I am not going to worry about it now, what happens, happens, I am committed to this journey no matter what it takes - but I wont pretend I have not got my fingers and toes crossed for good scan results. I am feeling pretty good about it - the doctors feel good about how things are going so I am sticking with that.
I am writing this post from my Mom's computer in Victoria. I have come over here to say my goodbyes to my Dad's longtime best friend, my uncle by proxy. B. I have known B my whole life, he was there the moment my Dad passed and now he is waiting for his time - struck with the exact same disease that my dad had. Liver cancer. It seams this last week or so has been wrought with sadness. This is the unfortunate part of life. It just reminds us once again. Hug your kids, call your Mom or Dad if you are lucky enough to be able to, mend fences, forgive. This life is all too short.
Many thanks again for play dates, soup, flowers. Generous gifts in memory of P, prayers, emails (i promise i am trying to get back to you all), patience, FB notes (so good to hear from old friends - again, I promise i am trying to get back to you), walks and most importantly LOVE.
PS. Please say a prayer for my friend A.A is beautiful, vibrant mother of 4 (eldest is 6) who has just started chemo for stage 4 colon cancer. She is only 35. A is in a good space ready for the fight ahead of her and full of positive energy but I know any extra vibes like the ones I was so lucky to receive (and continue to receive) will help. Thank you.
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Thursday, 22 March 2012
The Mighty Pea
This post was supposed to be up earlier than this. It was supposed to be about treatment number three. The halfway point. I would go on about how my symptoms - how they affected - me or didn't. A regular update with perhaps a dash of a story or a silver of self enlightenment that I may have been graced with on this journey.
Once again however my curve ball got a curve ball.
Many of you have met Peanut - our feisty 7 lbs of thunder Yorkshire terrier/Pomeranian cross. He has the heart of lion and a personality larger than life. He turned 11 on Dec 30. He was my doggie in the window - my I really should NOT buy a dog from this store but cant help myself - my most wonderful present from my most wonderful (and new) fiance.
He was a ball of fur. Three black dots - two eyes and a nose were all that confirmed he was in fact a dog. He slept under the covers between our feet or on our pillow between our heads. At least until the kids arrived. Initailly he was not a big fan of kids - would not let them touch him - but he never strayed far. He would circle them at the playground to make sure they were staying close to me and place his bum firmly on the ground if I tried to walk somewhere without them. He defended them fiercely (often too much sometimes) and eventually grew to trust them and allow them to bestow him with tummy rubs and ear scratches.
People were drawn to him - he could calm the fears of the most dog shy child and charmed women on his walks who always commented on his hair colour. All you had to do was bend down and Peanut would wiggle his way to his favourite spot between your feet for a little love. He would climb into any visitors lap - wanted or not - and paw at you until you paid attention to him. He was fast - the fastest dog at the beach in his prime - we nick named him sweetfeet - he could outrun anyone. Especially Don and I. He slowed down the last few years but his tenacity and zest never did.
There are many stories I could tell you about Peanut - like the time he got a way from Don and walked out on the ice at Jericho pond. He fell through of course and Don learnt very quickly why no one uses it as a swimming hole. Or the time I was 9 months pregnant and had to chase Peanut around bawling my eyes out certain he would die because he was gobbling down the huge back leg of some poor departed rabbit he had found in the scrub at the beach. Peanut has been hit by a car, gone toe to toe with a German Shepard and and eaten (and pooped) an entire chicken leg. Every time he has battled back like a champ.
Since my diagnosis Peanut has not left my side. No matter where I was he wanted to be there. He always wanted to be touching me and if i was lying down he wanted to be on me. Right on my chest - right on my tumor. He has been my constant companion and has listened to me say all the things i have needed to say, voice all those thoughts I dare not voice and share all my fears that I have chosen not to share.
Peanut had to go in for emergency surgery on Tuesday to remove a blockage in his intestines. The blockage turned out to be a growth the size of a ping pong ball. He was recovering well and I was able to bring him home on Wednesday night. He was groggy and uncomfortable but OK. I gave him his meds at midnight and tucked him in. By Thursday morning it was clear something was very wrong. He had gone into shock.
The vet and clinic staff cleared their appointments and did everything they could. Finally stabilising him. We waited for a few hours to see if his condition would improve. It unfortunately did not.
This afternoon Don and I made the very difficult decision to let him go. We said goodbye to our wonderful, faithful, funny friend. The love and comfort he has given me over the last two months will continue to comfort us but the memories of the last 11 years will sustain us.
R.I.P Sweet Pea.
Once again however my curve ball got a curve ball.
Many of you have met Peanut - our feisty 7 lbs of thunder Yorkshire terrier/Pomeranian cross. He has the heart of lion and a personality larger than life. He turned 11 on Dec 30. He was my doggie in the window - my I really should NOT buy a dog from this store but cant help myself - my most wonderful present from my most wonderful (and new) fiance.
He was a ball of fur. Three black dots - two eyes and a nose were all that confirmed he was in fact a dog. He slept under the covers between our feet or on our pillow between our heads. At least until the kids arrived. Initailly he was not a big fan of kids - would not let them touch him - but he never strayed far. He would circle them at the playground to make sure they were staying close to me and place his bum firmly on the ground if I tried to walk somewhere without them. He defended them fiercely (often too much sometimes) and eventually grew to trust them and allow them to bestow him with tummy rubs and ear scratches.
People were drawn to him - he could calm the fears of the most dog shy child and charmed women on his walks who always commented on his hair colour. All you had to do was bend down and Peanut would wiggle his way to his favourite spot between your feet for a little love. He would climb into any visitors lap - wanted or not - and paw at you until you paid attention to him. He was fast - the fastest dog at the beach in his prime - we nick named him sweetfeet - he could outrun anyone. Especially Don and I. He slowed down the last few years but his tenacity and zest never did.
There are many stories I could tell you about Peanut - like the time he got a way from Don and walked out on the ice at Jericho pond. He fell through of course and Don learnt very quickly why no one uses it as a swimming hole. Or the time I was 9 months pregnant and had to chase Peanut around bawling my eyes out certain he would die because he was gobbling down the huge back leg of some poor departed rabbit he had found in the scrub at the beach. Peanut has been hit by a car, gone toe to toe with a German Shepard and and eaten (and pooped) an entire chicken leg. Every time he has battled back like a champ.
Since my diagnosis Peanut has not left my side. No matter where I was he wanted to be there. He always wanted to be touching me and if i was lying down he wanted to be on me. Right on my chest - right on my tumor. He has been my constant companion and has listened to me say all the things i have needed to say, voice all those thoughts I dare not voice and share all my fears that I have chosen not to share.
Peanut had to go in for emergency surgery on Tuesday to remove a blockage in his intestines. The blockage turned out to be a growth the size of a ping pong ball. He was recovering well and I was able to bring him home on Wednesday night. He was groggy and uncomfortable but OK. I gave him his meds at midnight and tucked him in. By Thursday morning it was clear something was very wrong. He had gone into shock.
The vet and clinic staff cleared their appointments and did everything they could. Finally stabilising him. We waited for a few hours to see if his condition would improve. It unfortunately did not.
This afternoon Don and I made the very difficult decision to let him go. We said goodbye to our wonderful, faithful, funny friend. The love and comfort he has given me over the last two months will continue to comfort us but the memories of the last 11 years will sustain us.
R.I.P Sweet Pea.
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
Change of Plans aka Learning to go with it...
The dates have been etched in my calendar since I started on this little trip. One chemo every three weeks; always a Wednesday in my case. In chemo school (yes that is what is called, also known as chemo 101) they tell you two really important things... Watch out for infection - if you even get 1 degree of a fever call the doctor - and don't miss your treatments dates, the schedule is really important. I have taken both very seriously - a dear friend even had a hand sanitising machine set up at my front door - the kids on our block have the cleanest hands around. So one can imagine my surprise when I got a call last week informing me that my appointments had been changed.
Instead of Wednesday, my chemo had been moved to Friday. I won't get into the logistics here of childcare, husbands work schedule, mom coming from out of town etc. that I could more or less handle. What I was not prepared for was the emotional impact it had on me. I realised how tightly I was holding on to this one date in the calendar, a date that my life is planned around. Every three weeks.
One would think I was sort of getting used to the idea but every round of chemo is bringing up new thought processes and feelings. This was one I was not prepared for. I felt like the rug had been torn out from under me. Even more than when I got my diagnosis. I think it may have been because even though I have tried to take this all and go with the flow I did have a very structured framework for how I thought this was all going to go.
One chemo every three weeks - always on a Wednesday. I knew I could handle that. Yes, yes in retrospect it is only a difference of two days, but my mind started racing - what about my schedule? Did they realise they were messing with my treatment? Was the nice teacher nurse lying in class? A few calls to the doctor and I was put on the waiting list for Wednesday. I was assured that the two day change would not in fact have any effect on my progress. I did not however find out why they changed my appointment (Don thinks it may have something to do with the timing of a test I am going to have in a few weeks). I went into this past weekend still holding on to the idea that nothing had really changed, I would get in on Wednesday as planned and all would be right int the world.
Monday morning. Called in to see if I had moved up on the list. Tried to pry out of the nurse multiple times how many we're ahead of me, what my chances were. She understandably got annoyed, and pointed out quite clearly that I had an appointment for Friday. I was about to formulate the request one more time when something told me to shut up. I hung up the phone and thought about things for a few minutes. I called the nurse back and asked her to take me off the wait list - Friday would be fine.
When I was in the hospital, I had excellent care. The nurses were great and I felt well attended to by the doctors. The thing that really stood out for me was how hard the doctors worked to get me in and tested and treated. As fast as possible. It was ten days. From the first sign that something was wrong to my first chemo appointment, just ten days. I would like to think it was my winning smile that prompted them to move quickly but I know that more likely it was my age, the type of aggressive cancer I have and the fact that it had not - beyond the medical probability - spread. I also know that on the first Wednesday when I got prioritised for treatment, I bumped someone else off, if not two people as the first round took two days.
By all accounts things are going really well. If they needed my Wednesday for some other mom or dad, sister or brother, daughter or son to get a round under their belt. To give them a chance to catch it early or even to give them a chance at another few months, or even weeks then that is as good enough a reason as any to embrace my new day. Friday it is!
I am not trying to be all altruistic, nor am I saying that some other persons health is more important than mine. I am just trying to share with you the story that led me to my latest little piece of discovery. We all know that life can throw us curve balls. My discovery is that even curve balls get curve balls. I had convinced myself that I was just going with the flow, when in reality I was holding on so tightly to something I had failed to see what it really represented to me. I could not control what was going on in side my body but damn it every three weeks on a Wednesday I could control what I did to it. Reality is I can't control any of it. (to a degree - yes diet, meditation & all that other stuff I am doing helps but just go with me here for a minute). It was only by recognising that, that I was able to recognise Patient X who got bumped from their spot so I could get on my road to healing.
There was power too in taking the waiting game out of the waiting list. Embracing the change and my new day. Friday. So cheers to Friday - it IS arguably the best day of the week anyways. Get ready cancer we have a new date. - At least for now...
Thanks to Patient X, emails, spaghetti sauce, minestrone, funky mac & cheese and hearing about my friend doing the worm. Thanks to chats over coffee, walks in the sun, play dates, the generosity of people I barely know and the love of those I know well. Thanks for good wishes, prayers and getting to watch my 6 yr old sound out a really, really big word! Thanks for assistant coaches who stepped up when Coach Sara went on hiatus and managers who came in mid season and helped team Thunder shine - thanks to my soccer kids - you made your coach proud. Thanks to my 9 yr old's DI coach and team -The Magic Monkeys, I am so grateful I was well enough to see your competition and cheer you on to your first place finish - I can not wait to cheer you on at provincials. Thank you universe for this opportunity to grow and see the small important things in life. And most importantly, thank you, all of you for your LOVE. (whew that was a long one)
Instead of Wednesday, my chemo had been moved to Friday. I won't get into the logistics here of childcare, husbands work schedule, mom coming from out of town etc. that I could more or less handle. What I was not prepared for was the emotional impact it had on me. I realised how tightly I was holding on to this one date in the calendar, a date that my life is planned around. Every three weeks.
One would think I was sort of getting used to the idea but every round of chemo is bringing up new thought processes and feelings. This was one I was not prepared for. I felt like the rug had been torn out from under me. Even more than when I got my diagnosis. I think it may have been because even though I have tried to take this all and go with the flow I did have a very structured framework for how I thought this was all going to go.
One chemo every three weeks - always on a Wednesday. I knew I could handle that. Yes, yes in retrospect it is only a difference of two days, but my mind started racing - what about my schedule? Did they realise they were messing with my treatment? Was the nice teacher nurse lying in class? A few calls to the doctor and I was put on the waiting list for Wednesday. I was assured that the two day change would not in fact have any effect on my progress. I did not however find out why they changed my appointment (Don thinks it may have something to do with the timing of a test I am going to have in a few weeks). I went into this past weekend still holding on to the idea that nothing had really changed, I would get in on Wednesday as planned and all would be right int the world.
Monday morning. Called in to see if I had moved up on the list. Tried to pry out of the nurse multiple times how many we're ahead of me, what my chances were. She understandably got annoyed, and pointed out quite clearly that I had an appointment for Friday. I was about to formulate the request one more time when something told me to shut up. I hung up the phone and thought about things for a few minutes. I called the nurse back and asked her to take me off the wait list - Friday would be fine.
When I was in the hospital, I had excellent care. The nurses were great and I felt well attended to by the doctors. The thing that really stood out for me was how hard the doctors worked to get me in and tested and treated. As fast as possible. It was ten days. From the first sign that something was wrong to my first chemo appointment, just ten days. I would like to think it was my winning smile that prompted them to move quickly but I know that more likely it was my age, the type of aggressive cancer I have and the fact that it had not - beyond the medical probability - spread. I also know that on the first Wednesday when I got prioritised for treatment, I bumped someone else off, if not two people as the first round took two days.
By all accounts things are going really well. If they needed my Wednesday for some other mom or dad, sister or brother, daughter or son to get a round under their belt. To give them a chance to catch it early or even to give them a chance at another few months, or even weeks then that is as good enough a reason as any to embrace my new day. Friday it is!
I am not trying to be all altruistic, nor am I saying that some other persons health is more important than mine. I am just trying to share with you the story that led me to my latest little piece of discovery. We all know that life can throw us curve balls. My discovery is that even curve balls get curve balls. I had convinced myself that I was just going with the flow, when in reality I was holding on so tightly to something I had failed to see what it really represented to me. I could not control what was going on in side my body but damn it every three weeks on a Wednesday I could control what I did to it. Reality is I can't control any of it. (to a degree - yes diet, meditation & all that other stuff I am doing helps but just go with me here for a minute). It was only by recognising that, that I was able to recognise Patient X who got bumped from their spot so I could get on my road to healing.
There was power too in taking the waiting game out of the waiting list. Embracing the change and my new day. Friday. So cheers to Friday - it IS arguably the best day of the week anyways. Get ready cancer we have a new date. - At least for now...
Thanks to Patient X, emails, spaghetti sauce, minestrone, funky mac & cheese and hearing about my friend doing the worm. Thanks to chats over coffee, walks in the sun, play dates, the generosity of people I barely know and the love of those I know well. Thanks for good wishes, prayers and getting to watch my 6 yr old sound out a really, really big word! Thanks for assistant coaches who stepped up when Coach Sara went on hiatus and managers who came in mid season and helped team Thunder shine - thanks to my soccer kids - you made your coach proud. Thanks to my 9 yr old's DI coach and team -The Magic Monkeys, I am so grateful I was well enough to see your competition and cheer you on to your first place finish - I can not wait to cheer you on at provincials. Thank you universe for this opportunity to grow and see the small important things in life. And most importantly, thank you, all of you for your LOVE. (whew that was a long one)
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